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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

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God, Your Mama and Me (Jake Seresin x Reader)

A/N: told y'all I listened to country music and it inspired me. Inspired by and quotes God, Your Mama and Me by Florida Georgia Line. I'm not religious but that song gets me all heart-eye emoji every time.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader (I'm 99% sure I kept reader GN the whole time with no mentions of appearance)

content/warnings: reference to God via the song (the line is "no one's ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me"), Jake being adorable and trying his best to be romantic but he's more awkward than he wants to be bc he doesn't do PDA, brief references to potential character death (I promise no one dies)

word count: 1.6k

Jake took you by the hand, running playfully through the sand. Coronado Beach was where he’d taken you for your first date. It was where you’d met, where you spent every free weekend, where you’d meet with his friends at The Hard Deck for drinks on Friday nights and where you’d sit and watch the planes taking off from North Island as you waited for him to come home, not knowing what each day would bring but hoping and praying he’d come home to you safe and sound every time.

For the last three years, Coronado was an integral part of your life. It was where you’d held Jake’s 35th birthday party, a spontaneous beach gathering complete with a cooler of chilled beers and a portable speaker belting out country tunes. Despite the groans from others, the music had a magical effect on the usually reserved Jake, prompting him to join in with spirited, off-key singing every time.

It was where you and Jake had shared your first kiss, where he’d first told you he loved you - a sentence he admitted he never thought he’d say to anyone, swearing up and down he’d lead the bachelor life until he either died or retired, whichever came first. He’d always claim it was because he just “wasn’t the settlin’ type”, but his friends always saw right through it.

“He’s just scared,” Bradley had assured you one day over a beer while Jake tossed darts effortless at the board a few feet out of earshot.

Reading the puzzled look on your face, Natasha hummed playfully as she sipped her drink before raising an eyebrow at you.

“He doesn’t want to settle down because he’s scared,” She and Bradley nodded in unison.

“Yeah, doesn’t wanna leave behind a war widow kinda thing,” Bradley shrugs, “You’d think it’d be me who feels that way considering my dad died when I was literally a toddler, but no, apparently it’s Blondie who’s got the commitment issues.”

The first time Jake referred to you as his girl, the usually chatty Bradley had been rendered speechless, mouth agape while Natasha had choked and sputtered on her beer as she looked wide eyed at Bradley and back at Jake. Jake shrugged it off as if it was nothing, but everyone, even you, knew it was uncharacteristic of him.

The following weekend after stunning his Navy buddies, he’d been called away to the first mission since you’d started dating. You weren’t expecting it, but you got a heartfelt, emotional goodbye from Jake, one that was genuine and raw, a side of him you’d never seen before. He’d hugged you tightly and kissed you slow and sweet, making it last, permanent on your mind in case he didn’t make it back. As he promised you he’d return, you could hear his normally velvety smooth Southern drawl crack as his voice caught in his throat.

When he came home a few weeks later, you’d greeted him with a warm embrace, and he held you tighter than he ever had before, his first true public display of affection towards you. Bradley and Natasha could be heard whispering, while Bob simply looked on smiling, knowing how in love Jake really was, watching as it mirrored Bob’s own relationship with his girlfriend.

“Jake, where are you taking me?”

You laughed as you snapped back to the present, raising an eyebrow at him as he continued to lead you across the sand. His cargo shorts were hugging his hips perfectly, golden-tanned skin from the California sun illuminated in the light of the setting sun. His green eyes were full of a child-like excitement, his signature grin plastered on his face, looking like it couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried.

“Just trust me, ok? You trust me, don’t ya, Sugar?”

“Alright, alright, I trust you.”

“Atta girl, c’mon, almost there.”

You shook your head and shot him a playful eyeroll as he continued to guide you along the shore. Your mind flashed back to when you and Jake had first slept together - instead of the playful arrogance, overwhelming confidence and cocky egotistical attitude he gave off around his friends, he was the opposite when it came to loving you. He was gentle, caring, passionate and considerate. He checked in with you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it. He was selfless in the way he loved you - making sure you were taken care of in all aspects before he was, and if for whatever reason, his climax came before yours, he made a point to bring you to yours by whatever means necessary.

When Jake asked you to move in with him, the look on your face was one of pure shock and disbelief, you were sure you were dreaming it. Your wide-eyed gaze and raised eyebrows were enough to make Jake laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Now that’s not how I thought you’d react, babe.”

“I’m sorry…I just…can you say it again?”

“Ask you again?”

“Yeah, please?”

“Ok, Sugar, you’re losin’ it, but sure, I want you to move in with me, that sound alright to ya? We both complain we don’t see each other enough, and well, I just feel like it’s time we do somethin’ ‘bout it, right?”

You nodded your head and simply threw your arms around him, letting Jake embrace you tightly as he kissed your cheek. He had his friends help you pack and by the end of that week, you were moved in with him, sharing the little house on base together. His Cowboys jersey hanging in the closet next to your Commanders one - your teams were bitter rivals, and Bradley, who had come from Virginia, your home state, was beyond shocked to see Jake allowing you to wear a Commanders jersey to their Sunday night football watch parties. Bradley, forced to wear a jersey for another team, pouted at Jake.

“How come when I wear my Commanders jersey, I get told to fuck off and stay outside?”

“You don’t look cute in Washington’s colours, Bradshaw,” Jake replied matter of factly as he kissed you on the cheek, leaving Bradley to pout once again.

Jake stopped in front of you, turning his body to face you, bringing you back to reality for another moment. His unwavering grin still on his face, smiling at you as if you were the only sight around him for miles. Your heart melted when he looked at you - it always did - the love he had for you was always evident on his face, his gaze full of admiration and affection for you.

Your eyes widened as Jake went down on one knee in front of you. The sounds of the waves crashing against the sandy coast echoing softly around you. The odd passerby gawking as they went for their stroll in the dusky glow of the beach as the sun began to set on Coronado. Jake beamed up at you from where he stood on bended knee, his eyes matching the seafoam that was pooling around you, inching closer and closer to where you stood.

“Darlin’, remember that date I took ya on, where you made me dance with ya on the beach, after I swore I never would? That song you made me dance to, the one by Florida Georgia Line?”

“I remember,” you said, gazing at him with tear soaked eyes.

“Sugar, you know I’m not good at this kinda stuff - it’s more Bradley’s thing, being all sentimental and shit, but I’m gonna try my damnest, ok? You know how that song goes, “Baby you know my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty, now until the day I die, unconditionally,”

Jake’s cheeks blushed a soft pink as he tried his best to carry the tune, serenading you by the oceanside, “then it’s like, “You know I’m always gonna be here for ya, no one’s ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me”? Guess that’s what I’m tryin’ to say here, no one on this earth is gonna be able to love you, or anyone else more than I do. I’m sure of it. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to love you as much as I do, but Baby, do I ever love you.”

“Jake,” you started, feeling yourself becoming breathless with excitement as he spoke.

“Babygirl, will you do me the greatest honor ever, and become Mrs. Seresin? I never thought I’d ever marry anyone, but I’d be a fool to not marry you, darlin’.”

Speechless, you nodded your head quickly, unable to make any sound other than an excited squeal of delight as he slipped the ring onto your finger. As Jake stood upright, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a loving embrace, his lips crashing against yours as he kissed you passionately.

From behind you, you could hear familiar voices cheering - you broke the kiss and turned to see Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bradley, Natasha and Bob standing there, all beaming at you. Bradley wiped a single tear from his eye in his usual dramatic fashion, while Bob gave a proud thumbs up to Jake. A congratulatory smile formed on Natasha’s features, while Javy, Mickey and Reuben all applauded you both. You were overcome with emotion as you shared this moment with Jake and your friends.

“You all knew?”

“Of course we knew, Jake can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Natasha grinned, shrugging her shoulders.

“I get to be best man, right?” Bradley grinned as he clapped his hand onto Jake’s shoulder in a congratulatory substitute for a hug.

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mhahaikyuus · 24 days

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You're back

wc:; 1.6k

tags:; angst to fluff, izuku x reader, aftermath of a fight, domestic izuku x reader, established relationship, pro-hero Izuku, very fluffy end

a/n: hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.

You’re breaking his heart with one sentence and sad eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Can you just look at me.” Izuku said desperate trying to catch your eyes.

You avoided his eyes looking down with teary eyes and wobbly lips.

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” He said watching as you turned into yourself trying to be as small as possible.

“I never-never-God I didn’t mean it I was mad.” His stomach turning and eyes watering at his mistake. Taking a stressful day out on you.

You nodded your head just wanting to leave. Unable to, your green haired boyfriend earlier picking you up and driving you to his house.

“I understand…I’m going home.” You whispered.

“Okay I’ll drive you.” Izuku said. Going to grab his keys. Driving you home he could get you food and have you in a close space.

Begging you for a kiss and forgiveness and you would roll your eyes before kissing him back. He could fix things, he could make you remember how much he loved you.

“ Im walking.” You said weakly watching the sunset from his window reaching for your bag on the floor.

Izuku felt his heart drop.

You wouldn’t even be in the same car as him?

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry. I-I…I get that you’re upset but it’s getting dark please let me take you home.”

You shook your head, meaning what you said.

Walking out the door he deflated. Izuku knew following you home would anger you more.

You walked home as he checked your location breathing a sigh of relief at you making it home.

He cried like a baby wondering how he had screwed up so badly. What if you never wanted to speak to him again? He wouldn’t blame you but it would destroy him.

The look on your face as he begged you to talk to him crushed his spirit.

You needed time. You loved Izuku more than anything but you needed space from him. Time to heal from what he had said to you.

While Izuku was breaking apart with each passing second. You were trying to piece yourself back together.

It had been about a week of your break. Izuku wasn’t sleeping or eating and not going to the gym. Barely making through the numerous patrols and meetings.

You left Sunday night and didn’t come back to the apartment til Friday night. He had taken all overnight shifts, not being able to stay in the apartment without you there. The smell of you on the comforter made him nauseous. Only thinking if you never came back that would be the last thing left for him.

Entering your shared apartment you pulled off your shoes, and let down your hair. Noticing the apartment looked exactly the same.

The bowl you ate a snack in before the fight still in the sink, the couch still covered in a laundry session. The apartment was completely dark and untouched.

Sleeping in an empty bed you fell asleep fast happy to be out of a hotel room. Not hearing your exhausted boyfriend come in at 5am from a long shift. Finally coming back to the apartment after so long away. Izuku couldn’t spend another night on his office couch. He needed to smell your pillow and cry. He took off his shoes and paused at the differences in the apartment from when he had left it.

Your keys in the bowl by the door, the lamp in the living room on, your bag and jacket placed in the living room and the A/C running.

You came back.

You were home.

He rushed down the hallway to see your figure buried under blankets on your side softly sleeping.

Izuku broke down in tears. Unzipping his hero suit to be only in his boxers.

He climbed into bed tugging you into him. Tears wetting his face and the top of your head. You let out a small groan still deep in REM cycle but cuddled into your boyfriend and his strong chest.

“You came back to me.” He whispered almost crushing you in his grasp not wanting to let go.

You woke up a couple hours later around 10am to your ribs unable to expand to their fullest making it hard to take a full breath. Squinting your sensitive eyes you recognized wild green tuffs of hair buried in your neck and his buff heavy body laying on top of you.

Bringing a hand up you begin to rub his scalp.

He groaned before tightening his hold on you.

“You’re back.” He whispered

Nodding your head you tried to move from his hold.

“Im hungry,” You grumbled trying to loosen his grip and slip from underneath him.

“Okay.” He said pulling his head from your neck. Sitting up on his knees and picking you up from your arms.

“Oh- my.” You gasped at him lifting you easily and carrying you to the kitchen. His big body able to hold you at the waist and stride into the kitchen.

“I can walk.” You said holding onto his neck trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes

“I know you can. I don’t want to be away from you.” Izuku said in his gravely deep morning voice sitting on the kitchen chair. Sitting on his lap facing him in the chair. You leaned forward your forehead on his shoulder.

“Can I get up or are you going to hold me down.” You asked after a couple beats of silence as he rubbed your back.

He nodded but the second you got up you had a shadow following you. Izuku following you like a lost puppy.

Standing at the stove you felt him leaning into your back.

“What do you want for breakfast?” You asked looking up at him.

“Im not hungry.” He said with hand holding the back of your shirt with his thick fingers. Like a child gripping the back of your shirt. As though he was afraid you were going to disappear.

But he was lying.

Your boyfriend could eat 3x the average man with his regime and routine as a pro hero. What you didn't know that in your absence your man had lost his appetite for food and hadn't been eating.

You hummed at his answer still pulling out food from the fridge.

“Do you need help?” He asked shyly as though he was afraid to upset you as you started.

“No Im okay.” You said stirring in the pan

He hovered by you the entire time you cooked. When you finished cooking the obscene amount of food for both of you, you began to plate the breakfast.

Izuku let go of your shirt to grab your favorite mug and fill up your drink.

You sat down and nudged his plate to him even if he said he wasn’t hungry.

He hesitated at the pile of food you had just made for him.

Not that he wasn’t hungry. He was starving.

Not that he didn’t want to eat your cooking. Trying to figure out how to apologize for what he had done.

He missed you so badly his chest physically ached with every breath. Now you were back in his arms with the same warm smile you only had for him and back in your shared apartment. Trying to fix what he had broken because you loved him that much.

“You made me breakfast.” He said in a small voice

“Yea.” You said taking a sip of your steaming drink

“You made me breakfast…thank you” He said placing his head in your neck. You gently rubbed his nape as he held onto you hand coming back for your shirt.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I missed you…so much” Izuku mumbled gripping your shirt pulling you closer to him dragging your chair closer to his.

“I know, I know. I needed time. But I still love you okay? Im not going anywhere.” You reassured him knowing he was hurt.

He nodded into your chest.

“Come here.” He said pulling you into him now sitting on his lap again. You both sat there in silence staring into each other’s faces. Rubbing your thumb against his cheek just how he liked.

Initiating the kiss he had been desperate for all week.

Slipping a bit of tongue into your lover’s mouth, he sighed in relief. You still loved him, still kissed him like you always did.

“Eat, its going cold.” You said and he nodded as you wiped his face for him.

You sat in his lap drinking your warm drink as he ate the mountain of food you had prepared for him. Taking what you didn’t finish from your own plate.

Sitting in his lap enjoying your drink when you felt your shoulder become wet.

Your boyfriend was sniffling with wobbly lips and running eyes.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying baby?” You said gently wiping his face as he cried.

“I’m sorry. I hurt you and you still came back and now i’m eating your breakfast. I don’t deserve you. I didn’t think you would come back.”

“You made a mistake, and I know you are sorry. Stop apologizing. I just needed time okay? I still love you so much.” You said gently running your hands through his thick curly green hair.

He nodded and you stretched his cheeks to make him laugh.

“There’s that cute smile.”

“I missed you.” He said with wet freckled cheeks sniffling

You leaned up and gently bit his cute freckled cheek.

“Did you miss my bites?” You asked soothing his pink skin with a light peck.

He nodded, “I love your bite marks.”

“Good because you’re going to be covered in them by tomorrow.” Kissing his face as he happily took whatever affection you offered him. His large arms wrapped around your body never wanting to leave you.

#mha #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha scenarios #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #ao3 izuku #izuku x y/n #izuku x you #deku #bnha scenarios #deku x y/n #mha izuku

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ghostbsuter · 6 months

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Magicians way

A Zatara meets a Drake before the Young Justice-fication of Danny!

1/4 previous interactions

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The portal closes, and waddling in comes a teen in his PJ's, a space themed blanket thrown around his shoulders and hair dishevelled.

In all honesty, he looks like he'd just worked up and dragged himself here.

Probably what happened.

"Oh, so you get to call me at 4 am on a Friday night and when I do it it's suddenly a crime?" The teen scowls, glaring daggers at Constantine, who'd had told the big Bat he was going to call in reinforcement.

He didn't expect a child.

"Get over her shrimp," the man waves the teen over, throwing an arm around the blanked clad shoulders.

"Batsy, meet Danny. He's my kid."

Ah.

"Nice to meet ya," the kid yawns, literally dozing off on John's side. "'m gonna sleep."

At least the man seems somewhat regretting for pulling the kids from his impromptu nap?

"Sorry, kiddo, need some help here. Did Zee go hard on you during the day?"

Danny whines, but answers despite the disturbance. "Mom had to leave for a show, I didn't go along, ended up on an adventure that took a bit too much out of me."

John snorts, ruffling unruly black hair.

"One of the bat's birds will join us shortly. I needed a second opinion, minx helping?"

Interested, Danny peered up at his dad, raising a brow in question.

"There is a powerful entity currently free, I'm having difficulties identifying it." He explains. "Did anyone mess with Pandoras box? This feels like something not supposed to be on our side of existence."

Brows knitting together, he thinks. "No, I was the last and most recent one to have accidentally messed with her box." He admits. "But every monster has been contained. There shouldn't be one free, we would have noticed."

John hums, picking through his well used brown leather bag, grabbing a sack of ash.

"It doesn't feel like a demon, lest a fallen angel. It's unique in its own kind that I had to get you for help, it shares the same feeling as the curses inside of pandoras box."

Catching on, Danny stares. "You think one of her curses got away and formed a humanoid form, not much different from city spirits."

Nodding, golden glow follows the words the laughing magician speaks, answering his question with the usage of ash.

Danny looks away, knowing the spell already and meets the whites of a domino mask.

That's not batman.

Squinting, he recognises the vigilante.

That's Red Robin!

"Red Robin, right?" He asks, just to make sure.

Red Robin nods.

"Nice to meet you, heard some stuff, pretty cool in my opinion."

"What exactly did you hear."

"Stuff here and there." Is the vague answer, the bird only continued to watch him, slightly unnervingly.

"Well—"

"Kid! Got an answer!"

"Let's talk again, okay?"

He couldn't answer before danny left to go to constantine.

That was... weird.

"B, what just happened?"

Batman only shakes his head. Huh.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #Danny is the kid of John and Zatanna #fire meeting between Danny and Tim.#this is a prewuel if you will #he will have solo meetings netween thr core 4 #we start with tim #watching young justicr purely for cassie and barr #i need to stay true to her cant write badly knowing i could have doond better ay #ill sleep n9w #i should stop making so many stories oof #maybe thinking of finsihedimg ONE at least

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yelenasdiary · 5 months

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Maybe for Fluff Friday. Any chance of seeing maybe y/n overworking herself to the point of exhaustion, forgetting to get her vaccines and ending up with the flu but insists on working through. Cue Natasha stepping in to take care of her to the surprise of the team since Nat’s been cold towards her ever since she joined the Avengers not long ago?

Holiday Spirit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Avenger! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Christmas was approaching and with the stress of being an Avenger and trying to remember to keep up with things outside of work such as vaccinations, you became sick with the last person you thought would take it soon themselves to take care of you.

Warnings:Fluff/Comfort, No Warnings | 1.1K

AC:Something a little different for the holidays! Thank you for sending this 🥰

Holiday Special Masterlist

It wasn't like you to forget to keep up with your vaccinations but this year just slipped through your fingers, apparently there were more aliens wanting to threaten earth than ever before. You were able to get most yearly vaccinations but missed one that you now wish you didn't forget.

With Christmas just a week away, you come down with the flu. Body aches, blocked nose, headaches, fever, sore throat, chills, congestion & fatigue all rolled into one, taking its toll on you, but you swore not to let it stop you from doing your job. Since joining the Avengers, you've worked your arse off in training and missions to prove yourself to the team. Everybody loved and trusted you, there wasn't any reason to prove yourself but you never felt like everybody was on board with you joining the team.

Natasha Romanoff, aka, Black Widow. She was rather cold towards you, sly looks thrown your way whenever you spoke up in mission briefings, barely taking to you whenever working together and would often leave the room shortly after you entered. Everybody told you that Nat just takes some time to warm up, to adjust to a new member and that she'd come around eventually but that was well over six months ago and you were sure the assassin just simply didn't like you.

You started your day with a hot mug of tea, something you always enjoyed better whenever you were sick, you had some oatmeal for breakfast before hitting the gym for a very slow and painful training session before taking a hot shower that felt like heaven on your aching body. Next it was time to catch up on a load of mission reports that you'd been too busy to get too, you made another tea and made yourself as comfortable as you could be in the compounds study.

It wasn't long until your eyes got heavy and you were struggling to keep your head up, weak and tired you began to feel how exhausted and burnt out your body was. Natasha had watched you all morning, following her eyes at your stupidity for not spending the day in bed. She noticed that you hadn't eaten since breakfast and decided to make you something.

"Since when did you cook something that wasn't microwaveable?" Clint asked when he saw Natasha stirring a large pot of soup on the stove. Nat rolled her eyes, "Y/n's sick" she replied. Clint frowned slightly, "so you're making them soup?" He asked.

"Soup helps, they're sick, pretty sure it adds up" the assassin spoke rather bluntly.

Clint quickly picked up that Nat wasn't open for discussion on the topic, she had never expressed her thoughts about you besides the fact she didn't think the team needed a new member but Clint knew that Natasha was impressed with your skills, she just wouldn't admit it.

"Okay, enough of that, get up" you heard Natasha's voice behind you.

"Huh? Oh, no, I have so much left to do" you replied, trying to shake the tiredness in your voice.

"You're not doing anybody any favours by working yourself to the ground. You're sick, you've got the flu. Let your body rest" she explained before placing a bowl of hot soup in front of you, "eat this then it's off to bed" she added. You felt rather confused on her odd behavior, why out of everybody did Natasha care that you were sick?

"Thanks Nat, I really appreciate this but I'm not really hungry" you slightly pushed the bowl to the side.

"You've barely eaten, this isn't up for discussion" Natasha replied sternly, her arms crossed over her chest. From what you could smell through your stuffy nose, the soup smelt delicious and made your stomach grumble. You looked up at Natasha who wasn't going to take no for an answer, grabbed the spoon and started eating.

The warm goodness hitting the back of your throat gave an almost instant relief to your swollen tonsils and it had just enough spice to it that you felt your nose begin to run. Natasha handed you a tissue and placed some cold and flu tablets on the table before taking a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room. She watched to make sure you eat everything you could that was in the bowl. Wiping your mouth on a fresh issue, you looked over to the redhead.

"Thank you, I guess I really needed that" you smiled softly.

"Your body needs rest, why are you fighting that?" Natasha asked.

"I've never left a silly cold get the better of me, besides I have things I need to catch up on" you explained but Natasha could see through your words.

"You've already earned your spot in the team y/n, you don't have to prove yourself" she spoke, your eyes dropped to the unfinished mission report in front of you.

"But I do" you replied, "to you, I do" you added. Natasha frowned at your honesty, "you have nothing to prove to me, not anymore"

Slowly, your eyes looked up at her trying to read if she was just saying that to make you feel better. "You've ignored everybody telling you to stay in bed and recover, you've ignored your body's need for rest, you put everything else before yourself. You work hard, you train hard, you don't leave anybody behind, for once, let somebody take care of you" the assassin went on.

"If I'm being honest, Nat, I've always felt like you don't like me or even what me on the team" you replied before blowing your nose and downing two tablets, washing them down with water.

"Maybe it's just holiday spirit from all the decorations you and Wanda put up but, I don't hate you. I worried that maybe the team wasn't a good fit for you, that you could be off enjoying your life, but I was wrong and I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. Now will you please just go get some rest?"

Your eyes dropped back to the mission report once more, sighing as you felt defeat. "The reports will still be there when you're better" Natasha reminded you as she stood up, her hand reaching for yours, "I'm not taking no for an answer" she added.

——

"Whoever made this needs to make it again!" Steve commented before taking another mouthful of soup, Tony nodded in agreement.

"Nat made it for Y/n" Clint replied, cleaning one of his newly made arrows.

"Yeah right" Thor chuckled, Tony agreeing with him.

"Have you seen Y/n all afternoon?" Clint asked the others with a raised brow, they shook their heads, "Nat made them go to bed, she's out right now getting other things for them" the archer added.

"Sounds like Natasha finally found some holiday spirit" Wanda smiled softly.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #christmas #Fluffmas

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noosayog · 1 year

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[exactly where you wanted me] in which Oikawa asks you to be his fake girlfriend and isn't expecting to be swept off his feet

wc: 2.3k

warnings/content: she/her!reader, minimal angst, mostly fluff, love triangle-ish (as I had forewarned), pining

It’s a Friday morning, when Iwaizumi, accompanied by a very excited looking Oikawa, pulls you aside before homeroom starts.

Suspicious, you think. But if Iwa-chan is on board, it can’t be too bad.

After lots of flowery words and floundering from Oikawa, Iwaizumi explains that Oikawa wants you to pretend to date him to deter his fangirls from crowding practice afterschool in less than two sentences. He uses an additional sentence to say it’s stupid but probably effective.

You’ve been friends with Iwa-chan since your first years in high school and you generally think Oikawa is amusing, so you agree.

There’s not much to fake dating that’s different from real dating. You spend time together and there’s no way Oikawa’s heart stood a chance against getting this much alone time with you. He’s enjoyed being able to hang out with both you and Iwa-chan together before, but now, as your fake boyfriend, he’s allowed to indulge in all of your attention. He likes that.

So in the spirit of playing the role of a good fake boyfriend mixed with some selfish intentions, he asks - begs - you to come to cheer him on at a friendly practice match between Seijoh and Shiratorizawa, because that’s what people who are dating do. You agree.

On the day of the match, there you are, dressed in his spare turquoise blue jersey. He doesn’t realize he’s grinning like a maniac until Iwa-chan smacks him upside the head to tell him to start warming up.

He’s still having trouble focusing when he notices you making your way down to the court. Instead of going straight to him, though, he watches you make your way to the Shiratorizawa side of the court. He’s about to stop you, out of concern that straight-arrow Ushiwaka would reprimand you for interrupting warm-ups, but to his surprise (horror), Ushijima meets you in the middle and starts chatting with you.

Okay, what’s going on here? Is Ushiwaka… trying to flirt with you?

Rationally, he knows it’s unlikely. Chronically, Oikawa is an overreactor and overthinker.

So he storms up to you and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you away from the enemy captain. He hides your entire frame behind his and puffs his chest up, arms crossed defensively.

“Ushijima,” he greets with false bravado. “Do you need something with my girlfriend?”

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says in his calm voice, and nothing else.

Nothing else? Okay, he was used to carrying the conversation with this brick wall of a man anyway. “Ready to lose today?”

Ushijima’s head cocks to the side, “Who, me?”

Oikawa’s eyes twitch. “Do you see anyone else here? There’s no way I’d lose with my girlfriend cheering me on.”

Ushijima’s eyebrows raise. “Girlfriend?” he questions, looking at you.

“Yes,” Oikawa asserts. He doesn’t like the look Ushijima is giving you. Like he knows something, knows you.

“Wakatoshi,” you start.

First name basis?

Oikawa’s uncomprehending but there’s no time for explanations because Coach Washijo is calling Ushijima and Iwaizumi is calling him. You give both him and Ushijima a little wave and say nothing else as you return to the stands.

Seijoh wins with Ushiwaka sitting out for 2 of the 3 sets played. You had cheered for him as promised. After the match, his teammates give him a hard smack in the back, Iwa-chan adding a glare and warning to stay focused regardless of official or practice match next time.

As you’ve been doing every evening since you started fake dating, you wait for Oikawa outside of the gym to walk home together. However, unlike any other day, Oikawa does not wound his arm around your shoulder nor does he clasp his hands in yours. He puts a respectable 2-feet distance between the two of you. Adrenaline from the game subsiding, thoughts of you and Ushijima surface again.

“Oikawa?” you peer at him. “What’s wrong?”

“What is your relationship with Ushiwaka?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant. “You call him by his first name.” So much for that.

“Wakatoshi is a friend I grew up with. My parents are friends with his.” You’re casual, as if there is nothing more to the story.

“And he always lets you interrupt his warm ups to talk to him?” his voice heavy with implication.

Your quick replies come to a halt. The pause is heavy and awkward, but this time, when you respond, you meet his eyes evenly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oikawa shrinks at your narrowed eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbles. He doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer anyway. “Thanks for coming today,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you on Monday then.”

You allow him to lean in and give you your usual peck that comes with any goodbye with Oikawa, today on the cheek. “Bye, Oikawa.”

On Monday, he updates Iwaizumi with all the details. Predictably, Iwa-chan slaps the back of his head.

“Oww! Why did you do that?”

“Why does who she’s friends with matter to you?” Iwaizumi starts walking away but pauses to crane his head back to level Oikawa with a stare. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Figure it out yourself, idiot.”

Oikawa’s left rubbing the back of his head.

Mattsun and Makki are next.

“Well, just think about it,” Makki says.

“Why does it bother you so much that Ushiwaka is involved with her?” Mattsun finishes.

“Well, she’s my-”

“Fake girlfriend.” Mattsun interrupts.

“Fake.” Makki echoes.

“Fake.” Mattsun nods.

Oikawa reminisces about the first time you called him Toru. It had been the first time the two of you had walked home together after you had started fake dating and Oikawa had thought that you would start calling him Toru all the time.

You didn’t. Even though you call Ushijima by his first name.

Contrary to Iwa-chan’s constant labeling, Oikawa isn’t an idiot. He knows that this jealousy and greed for more of you – your time, your attention, your affection – all point to one thing. He is self-diagnosing lovesickness. He has a crush on you.

Logical next steps would be for Oikawa to take full advantage of all the alone time he gets to spend with you as your fake boyfriend, sweep you off your feet, seduce you, the works. Not that he hasn’t already been doing that.

Luckily, as your fake boyfriend, a big perk is that it’s literally in Oikawa’s job description to scare potential suitors away. Not that it was hard with how popular and good-looking he is, if he does say so himself.

However, tricking your childhood friend proved more difficult than he had hoped. In fact, it seemed the two of you didn’t have to, because the next time he sees you and Ushijima, somehow your childhood friend seems to already know.

It’s later that night when Oikawa decides he wants to go on a late night convenience store run for some ice cream with you. You had responded, jokingly, “Fake boyfriends don’t ask me out on dates.”

“Who said it was a date?”

You laughed and agreed.

So he meets you at your front door, dreaming of skipping to the store, swinging hands with you, and looking forward to an ice-cream induced sugar rush. Those dreams are quickly dashed when your front door swings open with a guilty looking you.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa,” you start but before you can elaborate, your front door opens again to reveal Ushijima. You turn your head back and nod lightly in Ushijima’s direction, as if that explains the situation.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima greets, his usual stoic mask unchanging.

Oikawa turns his cheek at him and ignores the greeting. He leans in conspiratorially with a hand over his palm and whispers obnoxiously, “what’s he doing here?”

You slap his hand away and turn to Ushijima. “Wakatoshi, I don’t need a chaperone. You can just go home.”

“Your parents asked me to accompany you to the store if you wanted to go.”

“Oikawa can take me.”

“Your parents asked me,” he says simply.

You apologize to Oikawa for Ushijima’s bullheadedness, and he knows you intend to assuage him, but all he can think about is why on earth are you apologizing for Ushijima? But all he does is nod and make towards the convenience store. When you fall into step with him, he does not skip with you and swing your hands. He also doesn't think he's going to be feeling any sort of sugar rush anymore, mood soured.

Oikawa can’t help but drop a comment as the three of you are walking home. “Kind of insensitive of you to be third-wheeling a date, don’t you think?”

Ushijima’s eyes flip over to you. “I didn’t realize you needed to be on the job during the weekends too.”

Oikawa’s smile drops. On the job? He turns around to face you, watching your face carefully as you flash Ushijima a sheepish smile, eyes flickering between the two captains.

“Don’t call it a job, Wakatoshi.”

Oikawa’s stomach twists when he hears you call him by his first name again.

Ushijima ignores your comment and turns to Oikawa. “I’ll walk her home. You can go home.”

You shake your head at him. “No, Wakatoshi. Oikawa will walk me home. I’ll see you later.”

Surprisingly, Ushijima concedes and listens to you. “Bye, Wakatoshi,” you say.

The two of you watch Ushijima’s back recede further and further and don’t say anything even when he’s long gone. You start walking in the direction of your home, but Oikawa takes hold of your wrist.

“You told him?”

“Who? Told what?”

Oikawa levels you with a hard look that you’re not used to.

“No!” you deny. You’re avoiding eye contact.

“Then how does he know?” He can’t help the accusatory tone slipping into his voice. He’s scared that if he isn’t on the offensive, he’ll let the hurt slip out.

“Well, I… You know I’m a bad liar! He just… found out!”

You wait, maybe for Oikawa to laugh it off and tell you it’s okay as he normally would, but he doesn’t.

“It’ll be okay,” you explain. “Wakatoshi doesn’t go to our school and even if he does, he would never talk about other people's problems.”

There’s a lot Oikawa wants to ask. Like why you’re vouching for him, why you call him Wakatoshi, when he’s just “Oikawa.” But instead, he just nods robotically and you seem relieved that he doesn’t seem mad. When you arrive at your front door, Oikawa stuffs his hands in his pockets and waits for you to go. You don’t, but he doesn’t know what to say. Maybe he’s the only one feeling this thick tension and awkwardness in the silence. He opts for a quick goodbye but before he can walk off, you grab his arm and yank him back.

“Oikawa,” you say.

“What? You might as well have pulled my whole arm off! I need my arms, you know,” he jokes.

“Toru.” Your eyes are steady looking at him. “What’s wrong?”

Oikawa’s smile drops and he breaks eye contact first. He can only look at the floor while he thinks about what he can say.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, but I’m your friend right? We may not be really dating, but I still want to be there for you if you’re having a hard time.”

Silence.

“Is it Wakatoshi? I know you don’t like him but-”

“Do you?”

You blink. “Do I what?”

“Do you like him?”

“No!” you exclaim, taken aback. “Where did that come from?”

“You call him by his first name.”

“Well, yes. We’ve known each other since we were children, though! There’s no special meaning.”

Deep breath.

“So when you call me by my first name, is there special meaning? We’re not childhood friends.”

Your eyes widen like saucers and you’re the first to break eye contact, face to the floor.

There’s a long pause and he feels stupid for even asking, for hoping. Oikawa sighs and takes a gaping step back, away from you. “Forget I said anything.”

“What if it did,” you whisper. So quietly, Oikawa almost missed it. And he would’ve, if he isn’t in a constant state of hanging onto every word you say, every sign you give.

You meet his eyes, and repeat, “what if it does?”

Oikawa isn’t processing this information quick enough, but he can already feel his hopes welling up to fill his chest. He’s so scared that he might be misreading the situation, fitting meaning into your words. “When I say special meaning, it means special.” He says dumbly. He emphasizes the word special, in hopes that you would understand the entire slew of suppressed feelings in that one word.

“I do understand,” you say simply.

It was a feeling akin to when it was simultaneously his service point and match point. The simplicity in which you delivered your meaning left no choice but to flood his chest with hope. He doesn’t even realize that he has a massive smile plastered on until you’re mirroring his expression. He waits no longer in stepping into your space, fingers intertwining with yours. He gives you your usual parting kiss, on the forehead, and lingers a few moments longer.

“Good night, then, girlfriend.” Even if you can’t see his face because of how close he is to you, he makes sure you can feel the curve of his grin and every word whispered against your temple.

He’s feeling good, satisfied, as he turns around to make his own way home (to squeal and roll around in glee in private), when you grab his arm once again.

Shameless, he gloats, “still haven’t had enough? I’m happy to-”

In true fashion, you humble him by pressing your lips against his, effectively shutting him up and wiping the smirk off his face. When you pull away, he chases your lips, eyes still closed. You giggle, give him one more gentle peck, and skip inside, leaving him there, red as a tomato.

2K notes · View notes

essenteez · 2 years

Text

𝐑 𝐎 𝐎 𝐌 𝐌 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄 || m i n g i

"She is rare and real. I'm not letting her go."

"He was attracted to rawness and realness, to sharp edges and straightforwardness. And when suddenly, you dropped the act of perfectionist he, in fact, disliked and revealed your true nature, you became all what he needed in a woman that his hands, lips and tongue were so eager to worship."

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : after failed attempt to impress your handsome roommate, you decided to stop making a fool out of yourself and went back to the old, unimpressive you. Lack of dress code around the house and general chaos came back for good. Little did you know, the "hard-to-impress" roommate began to see you with very...very different eyes.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t , explicit language, fingering (f/recieving), intense cunnigulins, doggy style, cum on a back, unprotected sex, mdom, hair pulling.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Mingi x (f)reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut, little fluff, body imperfections appreciation

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5k

07.35 pm. Friday evening. Everyone's favorite.

A moment of relief and appreciated freedom. A precious time of your boss having no power to control you. Your annoying coworkers are nowhere to be found to screech above your head. A piece of paradise where you can begin to enjoy the weekend to the fullest.

Of course, it depends on people and their individual understanding of what "to the fullest" means. To you, it meant laying in bed, in the most comfy clothes, binge watching anime while devouring not so healthy food, drinks and snacks.

You craved McDonald's today. No, you actually had been craving it since the early hours of Monday. And now it was time for you to treat yourself, give in to pure indulgence. No one could oppose this polygamy relationship between you, BigMac, chicken nuggets, fries and Sprite tonight.

Thankfully, you could skip the usage of the restaurant app, many a times they screwed up your order. You overheard your roommate talking something about leaving to help his friend with something. He could easily pick up your food on his way back and bring it right into your gluttonous arms. What a lucky day.

You giggled in pure happiness.

The man's movements stopped abruptly. His arm hung midair with half of it already in the sleeve of the black jean jacket.

Your sudden disgustingly adorable giggles caught Mingi's attention as he stepped in the living room, trying to get to the hall. He unconsciously gazed in the direction of the sounds of joy. His sight was flooded by the light inside your room, door opened just enough for his eyes to almost see your bare bottom on display.

Only God knew how much he wished he didn't look.

"Fuck." He mumbled as quietly as he could, thanking the noises coming from your laptop for hiding the growl his throat pushed out.

The rapid increase of his pulse and need for deeper breaths, made him throw spirited curses to his own self. Nevertheless, the black eyes studied you in silence.

He seemed to examine you like one of the paintings on the Sistine Chapel's ceiling, even though you laid there on your belly, only in your oversized, gray T-shirt and cotton panties with some pink ribbons on it. You were kicking the air with your feet hidden in socks that dazzled eyes with bright yellow baby chicks.

With resistance, his arm finally submerged into the jacket's sleeve, but still, Mingi didn't move from his spot. His legs simply refused to listen to their master. Boldly watching you, he seemed to be studying your uncovered parts by heart.

Your full thighs that looked as if they were inviting him to grab a handful of them. The slight cellulite that only proved how juicy your flesh was. It was almost painful to watch you, so unaware that you were fulfilling all his kinks and fantasies.

He clenched his teeth at the sudden throb between his legs.

He had to leave. Now. Of course due to business to tend to, but mostly because he was a heartbeat away from falling on his knees, crawling to you and begging you to let him touch you.

Despite the rational realization, he did not move an inch.

Your stretch marks glistened in the lamps light like translucent tattoos. He couldn't stop the sudden images of him kissing each one of them in his head.

The worst was yet to come as his eyes landed on the folds of your ass emerging from underneath the panties. The rolls of flesh where your thighs connected with your butt awakened a destructive urge to sink his fingers around them, to kiss and bite.

The unforgiving pulsing in his pants almost made him storm in your room. He needed to try to gain control again, he was not a wild beast after all.

Pinching the skin on his forearm, Mingi hissed at the unpleasant feeling.

"I'm leaving! I'll be back in two, three hours!"

He yelled this information more to remind himself rather than you. With clenched fists, he forced his legs to walk up the door.

"Mingi!"

No, please stay where you are, he thought panicked.

He didn't dare to turn around in case you jumped out in front of him

"Yeah?" No one knew how much effort he put in that one word.

"Could you buy me McDonald's on your way back? The usual!?"

Thank God, you were too lazy to leave the room but the sweet tone you had made him wrapped around your finger, made the devil on his shoulder laugh like a Disney villain. You must sound absolutely heavenly when you begged for other things in your mouth.

"Ok!" he agreed, voice slightly breaking but firm. He shook away the thoughts before he turned back around and said them aloud.

***

Mingi's tone sounded somewhat annoyed, making you think.

"Maybe I should've used the app instead."

Feeling bad, you looked in the darkness outside of your room after hearing the door begin to shut. You didn't manage to see him but what you did notice was your door being way more opened than what you remember it was.

Your frowned eyes lowered to your lower body. Slightly judging your naked legs, you realized your shirt was rolled up your waist which revealed your whole ass and your favorite panties.

"Oops."

Mingi either walked right past your room and didn't notice anything or he saw you with all of your grace. It took you a long second laying in stillness, trying to look for some sort of embarrassment in yourself, but eventually you rolled back on your belly.

"Ah, never mind" you shrugged and went back to drool over the tattooed Sukuna on your laptop screen.

Mingi had never shown any interest in you for all these years of living under the same roof. He was nice and a great friend but that was where it ended. Nothing more.

Oh well.

When your friend moved out to live with her boyfriend, you had a hard time finding a new roommate. The house, despite being an amazing place, was pretty far from the city center. Not a lot of people would decide to take long journeys to their workplace.

You lived alone for six months until one day you got a call. The man on the other side was interested in the room beside yours as he worked from home and liked being away from the city noises.

You had to admit, you preferred to live with another woman but that time you were desperate so you offered him to come and talk about the deal.

The memory of his frame still roamed in your mind, as it took up almost all the space of the entrance. You loudly gulped before even greeting him. And you were nervously swallowing for the next few months when he officially became your roommate.

At the beginning you tried to shape his view of you as the best. You changed your "house outfit" to more covered and neat, to make him think you have class and to hide the unattractive marks of your body. Meals you made were more sophisticated, and you followed a more healthy lifestyle. Even the gym lived to see you within its walls. Your room was cleaner than the ones in the ads of cleaning products. And most of all, everything about you had to look and smell like a volcano of femininity.

How lame of you.

To those days, you still wondered why you were doing all of that, to impress a dude that had absolutely no obligation to fall for you. All just because you were single and he was hot? Well, he was more than hot and you were basically covered in dust from singlehood. Still, it was unnecessary and you wasted time on doing things you didn't even enjoy.

After realizing your own stupidity, you went back to your old habits which actually allowed you to get more comfortable around him and in your own house. As the ties of attempting to impress someone disappeared, you quickly slid back to your messy, untamed, normal self.

For his misfortune.

The change of your aura around him was rapid and it took a 180° turn. One day you seemed to calculate every step you took and the next day the scheduled life was gone. It gave its place to chaos.

Truly, he disliked your visible chase after perfection and social media influence victimhood. It made you look almost robotic. You also seemed to force yourself to do most of it, especially going to the gym.

He did not know what dictated the sudden change but Mingi was glad that somehow due to it you finally became more relaxed and looked more like yourself.

However.

While you quickly found your comfort, he began to fall into a void of crushing lust and decreased self control, more and more everyday. The views like the one he just saw, were now on a daily basis. It was exhausting - pretending he was unaffected while in reality it trapped him entirely.

He was attracted to rawness and realness, to sharp edges and straightforwardness. And when suddenly, you dropped the act of perfectionist that annoyed him and revealed your true nature, you became all what he needed in a woman that his hands, lips and tongue were so eager to worship.

The way you moved, unaware of how feminine you were with something so simple like reaching for a coffee cup. The way you smelled, even after you stole his shampoo since you forgot to buy yours. The way you were all blushed after the steamy shower and paraded in only a towel around the apartment. The way you laughed out loud without trying to hold it in. Mingi melted at the sight of how excited you got for food, or when you got a text the postman was on their way with the new books you ordered. Or that a new season of your favourite show was out. Everything now was like sweet bait for his bee-like mind.

Mingi halted beside his car and looked at his reflection in its windows. Despite the twilight, he still saw the flames in his own eyes as all these thoughts of you flashed before them. The flames were just a tiny portion of the hellfire devouring him from inside.

Did he officially reach his limit? Somehow his mind kept fighting his body, however it began to realize it was outnumbered.

The first thought is the best.

Instead of the car keys, Mingi reached for a phone in his pocket. He didn't wait long for his friend to pick up the call.

"Sorry, man. I won't make it. You need to find someone else to help you with furniture." He informed the man on the other side with no words of greeting.

Hearing the need for explanation, he sighed like all he carried were troubles.

"Old case came up. I have to deal with it at last."

***

Fictional men. Book ones or 2D ones, it didn't matter. Your all time guiltiest, of guilty pleasures. Oh, how you wish they suddenly came to life, knock at your door and solve all your problems and fulfill all your fantasies.

"Ganbare, ganbare." you heard from the speakers as one of your new anime daddies spoke up.

"What the fuck, Sukuna?" You whined at the scene, burying your face in the pillow placed under you. You wanted to whine some more at the perfectly matched dubbing but the sound of doors abruptly opening and shutting caught you off guard.

Mingi left not whole five minutes ago. It had to be him. You hit the space button to stop the video.

"You forgot something?" you asked, listening closely, hopefully you were right.

"Yes."

The slight panic and insecurity that began to shape disappeared at the voice of your roommate. You turned your head back to the screen and restarted the video.

The music and a fight scene was loud enough to mute the sound of steps that entered your room. Only the sudden weight, pulling the bed down made you realize someone was indeed inside there with you.

You tried to look at Mingi, expecting to see him sitting on the edge of your bed for some unknown to you reason. But before you could even turn your head around, out of nowhere his arm appeared above your head, closing your laptop with his finger.

You couldn't look up but you felt it with all your being. Mingi hung above your entire frame, his arms on both sides of you, your legs trapped between his. His mouth, dangerously near your ear.

"I forgot to make something clear." He let out a growl he didn't have to control anymore, sending chills that were like a rifle series, from your head to your toes.

You were too stunned to form a word, feeling the temperature rise incredibly fast. Mingi took it as a chance to continue.

"If we're going to live together, we have to compromise, (y/n). I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, being so careless around me. If you wanted to seduce me, you succeeded. Congratulations."

Seduce him? No, you stopped trying three months ago. Now you were just living your life. How could he get it all backwards? Was it possible that the you being comfortable in your own skin, the chaotic you kept him awake at night?

You would scoff from the irony but, the position you were in and the whole man above you — with his lips so close to your neck, did not allow you to do anything but lay there like a mouse snared in a trap.

"If you didn't then please have mercy on the poor me and restrain yourself a little, so I could eat, sleep and coexist with you in peace and not fight the urge to pin you down to the first surface in sight and beg you to let me worship every inch of your body."

You were still silent, which made him spread his arms further and lean closer to you.

"Got it?" He asked, which sounded more like a threat.

Mingi had seen you in your most vulnerable position, and that had him speaking like he was a slave to your body. You smiled to yourself, at the confidence boost.

It was time to make a move.

He flinched at the unexpected touch on his crotch. He looked down to see your feet in bright socks brushing his clothed dick in wave-like motions.

"So, no McDonald's then?" You asked, pulling your head back to show him the fake disappointment on your face.

"(y/n)..." he begged, fighting the need to grind his hips.

"What can I do?" You shrugged, still not letting go of the act.

You did have him in your hands.

You suddenly turned around on your back and positioned yourself more comfortably as he pulled away a little in surprise. He looked you up and down, at your hands playing with your shirt, legs spreaded as if they were inviting him in. His grasp on the sheets tightened, trying to maintain maximum control.

"And what if I told you that I won't restrain myself?" You taunted with a pout, holding his dark gaze that came back to your face.

You were challenging him. He licked his lips at the lavious sight. The tightness in his pants bothered him more with every second of the view underneath him.

Your smile faded, giving its place to sultry expression. One of your legs raised and began brushing on his side.

"What if I also told you, you can pin me down to the first place you see and do whatever you want to me?"

The joy of having an upper hand didn't last for long. His move was fast and decisive — Mingi grabbed your flirting leg, stopping it from escaping as he lowered himself down onto you, pinning you to the bed with his weight.

The man's lips brushed yours, "I have a rule, you know."

"And what rule is that?" You battled the impulse to lick his plum mouth.

"No sleeping with roommates just for the sake of a peaceful life under the same roof." He enlightened you, putting your legs on his hip, next grabbing a handful of your plushy thigh. You inhaled sharply at the power he did it with, "But you make it absolutely impossible to follow."

You smiled devilishly, "So, you had a rule."

His lips felt juicier and softer than you imagined. And you imagined them an ungodly amount of times. It felt like biting onto the ripest fruit with all the juices exploding. It would've been a salvation on a hot summer day. But in this case, an unforgiving heat fell onto your body, burning your veins and showing on your cheeks.

The kiss quickly turned from delectaing, getting familiar to a violent clash of teeth, tongues and mouth, all of it accompanied by loud wet noises. The kiss broke as every ounce of oxygen left your lungs. You grabbed your shirt to finally get rid of it but he halted your plans.

"Leave it. I'm fucking you in this." He promised, at the same time groaning as his eyes filled with your breasts falling out of your only top piece.

He'd seen them unbrotherly bouncing under your oversized shirts almost everyday. Most of the time with no bra. Many times with erected nipples. They were teasing him while covered, which definitely woke a fetish in him. A fetish he never knew he had. A fetish he developed because of you.

"Why?"

Seeing you like this everyday got him laid in his bed and spent many nights imagining these scenes. Too many to not let it come to reality.

"Don't ask." He breathed out, while pulling the pillow from underneath you to put it on a side.

You didn't even have time to be confused as your nipples caught in his attention. One grabbed by his teeth and lips, the other twisted between his impatient fingers. Your back arched giving him all the access he needed. Mingi got the sweetest of whimpers out of you while kissing, sucking and massaging your tits that desired to fit in his big, untamed hands.

With kisses down your belly, he left your soft breasts, pulling your down shirt onto them. You squirmed in disappointment when your bosom lost his attention. But then he got dangerously close to your clothed cherry.

"I always admired your underwear collection but that is something else", he grinned, with his face hanging above your pussy like a cloud with a heavy rain over thirsty ground, "I thought these were ribbons…"

Once again he looked at the little pink tits painted all over your pelvis.

"I also have a version with little vaginas. Wanna see?" You grinned back and grabbed a string of your panties on your hip. Pulling it, you quickly let it go which made a sound from a contact with your flesh.

His grin faded away at that little gesture of yours. Why did the bare minimum have him raging in lust? What kind of sorcery did you use?

"Maybe later."

He grabbed the side of your underwear as you and pulled all of it down. Your cute panties landed somewhere behind him.

You were all exposed to his darkened, lusty eyes.

"I have a real one to look at…" with every word he made sure his hot breath embraced your throbbing pussy. "...as well as lick, suck and fuck."

"Mingi…" you immediately responded with a moan to his taunting. Your hips began to slightly twirl in front of his face when he positioned himself between your full thighs. They went up the next second, held by his decisive hands. He revealed every inch of your quivering womanhood to himself.

"Fuck, (y/n)" he whined at the sight of you, "Stunning. "

You felt cold air blowing on your folds. This little fucker. Your eyes darted onto him. Your roommate seemed to have fun, watching you struggle and wiggle while all he used was just air.

"Mingi, please" you begged shamelessly, "Hold on to your words, would you?"

"...as well as lick, suck and fuck." Oh you were funny.

"Right." he scoffed in amusement.

His giggles were muted by his lips attaching with your dripping pussy. Air got caged in your lungs, fingers immediately tangled in his fluffy hair.

Tongue lapped at your poor clit, mouth mercilessly sucked it in between. Raw sounds of your juices blending with his building saliva resonated in the room as well as deep in your soul.

"Fuuck." You were melting at the touch of his warm muscle, wandering around your folds.

Mingi was quickly advancing with his actions. His left hand went around your right thigh, fingers reached to the upper part of your pussy.

Your folds were spread, reminding him now of butterfly wings. He licked his lips at the vision of the source of all the nectar he was tasting. You were wet beyond his expectations.

The index finger of his free hand now traced around the edges of your soaking hole, that were closing and opening under his touch.

You spasmed at the quick, single and almost dramatic licks that were gracing your opened clit. His eyes fed on the lewdness, glowing in yours.

"You won't let me cum so quickly, will you?" You almost cried out.

Damn that grin of his.

"Oh no, baby. I will make you scream in a second."

Sudden invasion of his finger made you raise your hips, however he quickly pinned back down. The movement was slow at first as if he was doing a recognition of your interiors.

"So soft and warm, as I imagined it to be." He complimented you with a hum, "So inviting."

The middle finger answered the invitation, and join its neighbor inside you. There were no slow movements this time, no teasing. The pace was brutal, accompanied by your clit being violently sucked by his plumb lips.

"Mingi, fuuuck!" You screamed as loud as you were allowed in this condition.

The flood of pleasure, as much as it was welcome, came unexpectedly fast and powerful. It detuned your senses, took your breath away, controlled your body and whole being. You didn't know what to do with your hands, what to grab onto. Eventually they landed on your breast, adding more fuel to the fire happening between your legs.

His fingers pumped in and out of you, your rich juices made it much easier for them to move. Mingi sucked on you mercilessly, hamming loud which sent vibrations in the spot he was sending all his attacks towards.

With the last ounce of sanity, you quickly registered the knob forming in your abdomen and that it was about to come undone, brutally.

"I'm cum-ming" you intended to scream but all you could master was a whisper.

At those words his fingers gave up on leaving your walls and stayed deep inside them. You felt them curl inside, gluing to your core while rubbing and pushing onto it.

"Yes! Yes, right there!" You grabbed his head again to keep him in place, "Right fucking there!"

"Give me all of it, baby!" he said and reattached with your clit again, quickly shaking his head to have you absolutely crashing, "All of it!"

Legs, framing his face began to tremble. Cumming intensively, you were crying out the curses of pure euphoria. Your vision blurred. You saw no shape, no color as his fingers hadn't stopped. He led your orgasm in all the directions he wanted.

You had always been loud during sex but his skills made you reach new volumes. Your essence flooded his fingers, leaking out onto his mouth and chin. He began slowly moving inside you again to ride your ecstasy.

Mingi took his time before finally leaving your throbbing cunt. Fingers slowly slid out of you, all wet, glistening in the light. No drop was left as the man collected everything off you and of himself, ending the act with a loud pop sound. You used this moment to calm down and regain your breath control.

You didn't say anything as he climbed up on you with kisses and your heated faces aligned. Both breathing heavily, you looked at each other. You didn't stay silent and still for long but those few seconds were worryingly intimate. There was something between you two. You couldn't say what it was but it was there, tangible. You saw it in his eyes, that he in fact noticed that too.

Mingi allowed you to strip him off his black shirt and take your time to touch his chest, shaped abs and veiny hands that now rested on your sides. He felt his ego grow, seeing you worship his sun kissed muscles with awe.

"How do you want to take me?"

He raised his brows at your sudden question.

That reaction of his made you smile. Maybe he wasn't that hard to impress after all.

"You want to tell me you've never seen me in certain positions?"

"I have." He spoke before even the thought of other options of answer occured. However, Mingi didn't feel embarrassed with his honesty. Oh yeah, he'd seen you in many positions, but there was one specific simple fantasy that constantly appeared in his mind.

His hand reached for something above your head and next second you heard the sound of anime resonating in the room again.

Now you were surprised.

"Turn around, on your belly." He uttered, his eyes looking at you but his thoughts were somewhere else, deep in the dark corners of his brain.

You bit your lip as you realized.

Mingi wanted you in the position he had seen you almost everyday. In the position he saw you also today before leaving and coming back to take the business in his hands. He wanted to fuck you while you lazily laid before the screen. In your oversized shirt, colorful socks and your ass up on display.

How many times did he have to control himself to not let everything go loose when he saw you like that? How many times did he fight his corrupted mind while you walked and laid around the house unaware? You would never know.

Turning around, obeying him, you let him know you take all of it – all his needs and fantasies.

He helped you position the pillow underneath your pelvis and with the kiss on the back of your head, he got up to get rid of his jeans.

You felt familiar excitement as you looked at the anime going off but all you heard was a sound of an unbuckling belt. Wetness between your thighs increased along with the temperature, and you felt dizzy. It seemed like you were about to stand in flames.

His weight sunk in your bed again and you shivered at his mouth close to your ear.

"What you're doing, baby? Just keep watching your show."

The man's act of confusion was too good, his unearthly deep tone making you swallow a moan. Was it a punishment for you being so mindless about what you were doing to him?

His still wet fingers sunk in the flesh of your ass. He was massaging, squeezing and smacking it until he was satisfied. You looked at the screen but you saw nothing, entirely focused on his touch and sensation. You bit on the collar of your shirt as you felt Mingi sitting on your thighs like on a cushion. He put most of the weight on his hand but you still felt his hot skin pushing onto yours.

"Mingi…" his name in your mouth carried heavy pleas.

But he didn't answer. Instead you found yourself gasping at the velvet touch of his tip, rubbing between your cheeks and folds.

Up and down.

Up and down he spread his precum on all of you.

You couldn't see it but you felt his impressive width. You dig your nails in the sheets as your hips begin moving. You needed him inside, demolishing you.

"You're so soft and wet." He praised you. "All for me to finally enjoy."

"I'm begging you…" you mumbled with your shirt still between your clenched teeth.

He seemed to like bringing surprises as he slid into you without a warning.

"Aahh." You whimpered at the sudden stretch of your walls.

He went into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. Mingi felt you were engulfing him more and more with every push.

"You're adorably tight." He wanted to sound playful but failed as your walls cramped around him and a set of pleasure went through him. "Shit."

He raised up a little on his knees and used your waist to support himself. Your lower body was caged, he could've done and was doing anything he wanted. He rolled his body at an even pace while going in and out of you. The bed rocked along with you, the frame hitting the wall behind it.

You face dropped from the screen as you tried to look at the cause of your state. Your loud moans, now drowned the sound of the anime in the background. They became even louder as his hand suddenly wrapped your ponytail around its wrist, pulling your head back.

You were facing the screen again.

"Watch. The. Show, (y/n)." He hissed.

And you were. You couldn't focus on the graphic, characters and especially not on the plot. All that filled your mind was the absolutely superior pleasure as your roommate was bulldozing you from behind. But still, your eyes were glued to the screen.

The tempo fastened as he let go of your hair. He pinned into you crazily, his balls smacking your sensitive clit from behind. Skin to skin, birthing clapping noises at an even pace.

The grab on your waist tightened. His moves became desperate, chasing the promising high. Mingi began to lose it. So did you.

"I'm clo-ose" you breathed out, shutting your eyes.

The laptop closed again, cutting the irritating noise. All he wanted to hear was your moans and mumbling, signs he owned you.

"Cum all over my cock." He demanded.

His hand was now positioned on both sides of your head. He raised up and with all his weight he fell onto you, sinking deeper than ever. His thick cock and every pulsating veins, adorning it, rubbed all the right places to make your sanity go to sleep and sexual madness to wake up. The power he was invading now you was too much for your body's ability to control.

"Min-gi, aah!" You came undone once again because of him and with the way he made you feel, you knew it wouldn't be the only time.

Heavenly bliss made your eyes roll in the back of your head as it fell on the bed from withering pleasure. A string of saliva oozed from your parted lips. You grabbed firmly onto his wrists and just let him ruin you until he felt like the work was done.

"Fuuuck!" he moaned as your walls grabbed his hard cock in whole, sucking him mercilessly, "Fuck, (y/n). Fuck, fuck aah!"

He quickly pulled out of you as a part of his fantasy was finishing on your naked back. Humping himself onto your ass, he took his time to shoot all the hot load, painting your skin in white as well as watch you laying there, nicely fucked up by no one else but him.

Leaning his forehead to the back of your head, he inhaled your scent as if he breathed comfortably for the first time in a very long time.

"There's no way I'm keeping my hands to myself from now on." He said, having a hard time speaking from the tempo he graced you a minute ago, "No matter what you or I will be doing."

You stroke his forearm, enjoying his closeness. You had no strength to open your eyes so you just smiled.

"Same."

He kissed your head, having dozens of butterflies going crazy in your stomach.

"What are we gonna do?" He broke the comfortable silence. Mingi tried to hide it but you picked it up - the worrying hue to his voice.

The bridge was burned, true. There was no return from what you two did. But you had a choice and made it. You chose to accept your needs and desires.

"We'll figure something out." You hoped, keep smiling as every cell in your body was telling you it might be a start of something beautiful.

After all, he saw the real you. The imperfect, flawed and raw you and it made him let his armour break. You were not letting him go that easily.

He smiled in the crook of your neck.

"Does it mean you will be walking naked around the apartment from now on?"

You recreated the same joyful giggle that made him look inside your room and began it all.

"Maybe."

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Heartbeat / Chapter 1

Same pairing as I got you and Picture.

Simon Riley/female reader 3.6k words - part of the Sassy series - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnant reader, pregnancy, anxiety, vomiting, PTSD, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort, Protective Simon, Possessive Simon, oral sex - female receiving, explicit sex, breeding kink, praise kink. Mentions of violence. Trauma. Blood. Angst. Hurt/Injured reader. Simon made up his mind.

“But not the thick crust kind. The thin kind, well done. Tell them-“ He shut the truck door with a firm push and pressed the phone back up to his ear.

“I know, Sass. I know.”

“that I want it with black spots top and bottom. And extra cheese! Last time they forgot it and-“

“Sass.”

“Yeah?”

“I got it.”

“Erm, right.”

It’s been a month since Simon showed up on your doorstep. A month, since he took his mask off in front of you, showed you who he was. A month since he started to try to earn your trust back. It was slow, and you were wary of him, and he tried not to hold it against you, even though it frustrated him to no end. Some days, you still slip away from him. Distrusting, and angry. Hurt. He rides it out with you, as patient as possible, no matter how rough it is. He has no other options.

The first week was the worst. You fought him tooth and nail. Ferociously. Viciously. True to your spirit. The morning after he had showed up on your front step at night, you didn’t let him in your house for almost two hours. You spoke to him through the crack in the door until he convinced you to open up, and then once you did, you spent three hours putting him through his paces. Pushing him about why he had you put on leave, why he disappeared on you, why he ran from you at every turn.

“You put an intimate relationship with a superior down on my record.” You hissed at him, spitting poison with every word.

“I didn’t. Price and I, we talked. It wasn’t on record.” He was surprised when he watched tears gather in your eyes, his mouth moving but no words coming out except; “Sass, please, I-“

“You and Price decided to get rid of me!” you screamed at him, and he stood there and took it from you. Took everything you threw at him because you were right. In the end, that is what happened. He implored Price to put you on leave or transfer you out because he couldn’t handle it.

He’d never been a coward before that moment. Not a day in his life. But you, you had reduced him to rubble and ash. Left him helpless in your wake.

That night, he drank a bottle of bourbon in the emptiness of his hotel room. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know how to do this, navigate this situation, or you. He didn’t know how to be a father. He couldn’t tell you the first thing about what a healthy father-son relationship looked like, or how to be a good dad. What was he going to do? Stay with you? Play house? Mow the lawn and drink beers on Friday nights, change diapers and wash baby clothes covered in puke?

“I can do this. I have it all handled.” The words twisted in his gut, and he turned them over and over in his mind. Did he want you to have to do it alone? Did he want his kid to grow up without him?

Maybe you both would be better off. He could watch, from the shadows. Keep the two of you safe. Succeed where he failed before.

“You’re off the hook.” You had told him, and he was surprised at how much he didn’t like the sound of that. Or how it felt.

A memory, the sound of your laughter, tugged at him. He remembered watching you play a round of cards with Soap, nestled in a safehouse the night before a particularly difficult op. He can still hear the exact tone of your voice, the chime of your amusement. When you looked up from across the table, your eyes found his immediately. He wasn’t surprised, you always knew where he was. The two of you always found each other, in a crowded room, in a fire fight, in the dark of night. At first it had unsettled him, but then it just turned into… home.

The last of the liquor burned when he swallowed it.

He made up his mind. He had to try.

The next day when he showed up, you weren’t there. Eight in the morning and your car was already gone. His heart hammered in his chest as he sat in his truck and ran through every worst-case scenario he could think of. Someone had forced you into the car earlier this morning, and then ditched it once they got you far enough away. Someone had killed you in the house, and then pushed your car off a bridge or a cliff with your body inside. Someone had stolen your car and you had tried to chase after them, resulting in them kidnapping you as well. You went somewhere earlier, and were in a car accident but he sure as hell wasn’t listed as your emergency contact so he would have no idea… The list went on and on, and his pulse thundered in his ears until you pulled into your driveway an hour later, trunk full of groceries. You had tensed when his driver’s side door closed, turning in a panic with a carton of eggs in your hand.

“Jesus, Simon. You can’t sneak up on me like that.” You pressed your hand over your heart, and he frowned. He hadn’t been trying to be stealthy. He was even parked in front of your house, just on the other side of the street. You moved to grab another bag, but he reached for it first.

“Let me help you.” The resigned sigh was all he got out of you in response.

He came back later that night, at your request. You’d make him dinner, you said, the two of you could talk.

“What do I have to do to get rid of you?” you asked him outright, over a plate of pasta that you were pushing around. He ate most of his. You hardly got three bites in.

“You can’t.” He told you simply, watching your face shift from stress to irritation, confusion and then to wariness, concern. “I’m on leave. Extended holiday.”

“You… you’re what? You never take leave.”

“I do now.”

“For how long?” ‘For as long as you’ll have me’ got stuck in his throat so he went with,

“Awhile.” You groaned his name, ready to launch into a full diatribe of protest when he held his hand up to stop you. “Sass, I know. I’m not too dense to realize I broke your trust. I know I hurt you. But I’m here, I want to be here for you, with you, now. As much as I can, as much as you’ll let me. I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. But I want to try.” He held his breath as you stared down into your plate, knuckles white around your fork. When you spoke next, your voice was different. Small. Broken.

“I’m scared.” You whispered to your lap. “That last bomb, when Soap almost died, it…took a piece of my brain, I think. It all caught up to me Simon, and now I, I’m going to have this baby, this thing that needs me and it’s been hard already and I don’t know-“ He watched you break apart until he couldn’t, pulling you from the chair and into his chest, lowering the two of you to the floor so his back rested against the wall.

“I’ve got you. I’m right here.” He hushed you while you wet his shirt with your tears and mumbled incoherently into him. He held you there for hours, until you were limp with exhaustion, eyelids slipping shut.

It didn’t get easier after that though. Whatever headway he thought he made with you was gone by the next day, and you were back to fighting him, dragging him through the mud as much as you could. He sat in your driveway for two days straight, until the third, when you finally opened your front door and let him in because ‘you didn’t want your neighbors to talk’. You steeled yourself against him, telling him your breakdown the other night was a moment of weakness, and that you were fine. You didn’t want him around; you didn’t need him.

You weren’t fine. He knew it, and he knew you knew it. But even if you were, he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving.

“I have a scan, today. In an hour.” You announced one morning almost two weeks after he showed up. A scan? You looked up at him, eyes a little nervous, like you were unsure.

It was a strange thing for Simon to see, considering how you worked. You were always confident in the field, strong and assured. You knew bombs, you had told him, knew them like the back of your hand. You even taught Soap a thing or two.

“Where the hell’d you learn to do that, lass? That’s not military spec.” Johnny asked you, practically amazed, and you laughed at him, nodding in agreement.

“Family tradition.” You had quipped with a grimace and left it at that.

“To see the baby… do you want to come?” He blinked in surprise before quickly agreeing, offering to drive.

“When’s the last time you were in a doctor’s office?” you asked him quietly.

“Been awhile.” Since Tommy got clean. When Joseph was born. His fist tightened on the wheel unconsciously. “You?”

“Like two weeks ago.” Oh, right. You shifted in the seat and winced, rubbing your belly placatingly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. He’s just… moving around, kicking me.” You surprised Simon by reaching for him, cupping his palm over the swell of your belly, letting him feel the little vibrations inside moving under his hand.

The office had been hell, at least until you got in the room. He stood beside you while you checked in, the stares of everyone in the waiting room burning into his back. He was too exposed, in unfamiliar territory, blind to any threats. Even with the face mask, ‘the civilian one’, as you called it, he still felt extremely uncomfortable. He sat next to you in the pink pleather chairs, back stiff, fingers curled over his knees, body practically vibrating with stress until you put your hand on his.

“Hey.” You leaned over with a whisper. “Everything’s okay.” Your thumb rubbed a pattern into the skin of his wrist. “We’re going to hear the baby’s heartbeat.” You had said gently, giving him a squeeze. The heartbeat. He turned to look at you, and you were smiling at him, tenderly. He could see the fear and nervousness that was wracking his own body reflecting in your gaze, but you had pushed it down, forced it away to give him comfort. His throat had felt tight with emotion in that moment.

When they finally called your name, brought you back, he relaxed slightly. The room you were in was dark, and it calmed him to the point where he felt in control again, his posture relaxed slightly as he watched the technician closely while they squirted some clear gel onto your skin.

“Wow!” they had commented brightly, “That’s a big baby!” and you had groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a second while you took a deep breath. They showed you images of hands, feet, a little nose, technician moving the probe around your belly, and Simon stared at the screen, terrified to pull his eyes away in case he missed anything. Then they turned on the audio, and he heard it.

The heartbeat. A soft swoosh of a sound, steady and strong. He reached for your hand without even realizing, holding your fingers between his and bringing your palm to his face. He heard you laugh, a teary, watery thing, and he pressed his lips from behind the mask to your skin and closed his eyes. Swoosh swoosh swoosh.

Things changed, after that. You started to soften towards him more, letting your guard down bit by bit. You let him massage your feet at night and hold your hair back in the mornings when you spit bile into the toilet. He was a light sleeper, like you, and always knew the moment you rolled out of bed, stumbling for the bathroom, pressing your hand to your mouth.

“This is your fault.” You’d gasp as you vomited, face dotted with a light sheen of sweat.

“You’re right.” He’d console you and rub your back until you finished, little pieces of guilt burning in the pit of his stomach. He would press a damp washcloth to your face while you coughed and sputtered, murmuring to you softly until you rocked back, slumping against the tub and pulling his hand against your belly.

“Tell him. To knock it off.” He’d laugh, but oblige you, pulling you into his arms while you rested your face against the cool tile. He didn’t mind taking care of you. He secretly cherished it. Taking care of you allowed him some semblance of control, some ability to plan and execute in a way that was familiar to him. He thinks you knew that though.

“I’m nervous.” You gulped one night, toes tucked under your thighs on the couch. “You’re so… big. And so is he, already. It’s going to suck so bad.” You giggled a little, apprehensive smile on your face, and he did his best to reassure you.

“They’ll give ya good drugs. And I’ll be there. You can scream at me all you want, until you feel better.” You turned towards him on the couch in surprise, lips parted, eyebrows raised.

“You’ll be there? You want to be there?”

“I’ll be there, Sass. I promise.”

He feels like he’s in a dream sometimes, when he looks at you. Like this all can’t be real, that he’s going to wake up any moment in a tent somewhere, or a safehouse, listening to Johnny snore and Price whistle. He can’t stop himself from staring at you, eyes tracing the curves of your body, the swell of your belly the proof that you’re his, that he’s got you, now and forever. He realizes he likes you like this. He liked you before too, just as much, when you were lithe, fast and lethal. When you were easily foldable under him, ready for anything at a moment’s notice. He liked you when your nimble fingers would plug and pull wires, when your strong legs would creep silently down dimly lit hallways. You had the body of someone who killed, someone who watched him kill, someone who killed beside him. Now though, in these moments, when you’re heavy with his son growing inside of you, soft and tender, your edges softened, he has a hard time believing he’s not actually dreaming.

It was a few nights ago, when you rolled over in the dark, hands snaking across his stomach to reach in his sweatpants for his cock, that he finally tasted you again. He laid you on your back in the dim light of your bedside lamp, running his hands over your body, pressing his mouth to your belly. He couldn’t get enough of you like this; body spread open for him, sleeping in his t-shirt, having his baby. He’d keep you here forever if he could, keep you safe. Keep you both safe.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, spreading your folds to press a thumb to your clit.

“I’m a whale.” You whined with a gasp. His cock was painfully hard against the bed, dripping into your sheets, your whimpers and moans filling his ears.

“No, you’re not.” You were so wet, soaked, he slipped a finger inside you easily, stroking against the sponge like-spot in your cunt. “You’re having my baby, Sass.” He lowered his mouth to your clit, raising its hood with a thumb so he could lick your swollen nub over and over, until you were clenching around him and crying his name.

“Fuck, Simon. Shit-“

“That’s it, sweet girl. Come on.” He felt the muscles in your legs tense, and your body pressed against his face, seeking more friction. “Come for me. I know you can do it.” And you did, hard, straining against the bed while your thighs closed around his head. He pulled you on top after, guiding your hips gently to sink downwards, your face pained from the stretch. It had been a while, since you’d taken him, and you were slow to work your way onto his cock. “Take your time.” He told you through a gnashed jaw, the feeling of your hot cunt gripping him nearly sending him hurtling over the edge before he was even all the way inside.

“Look at you, my good girl. Sittin’ on my cock, carrying my baby.” He curled forward, teeth grazing your nipple, the sensitive peak hard between his lips. “Wanna keep you like this.” He wrapped his arms around you as you rode him, body moving up and down on his cock lazily. “Fuck you full of my come, give you another.” You tightened, liquid heat dousing him, and he stroked your clit again, fingers moving in time with your hips until you became frantic, hurried, and he knew you were close.

“Come on my cock like a good girl, Sass. Let me feel it.” You squeezed him when you came again, and he followed you shortly after, filling you so much it was dripping out of you while you panted on top of him.

Afterwards, you looked over at him suspiciously.

“Since when has that been a thing?”

“Since now.”

“I double checked the amount of cheese for ya before I paid.” He says, depositing the two boxes onto the kitchen table. The house is silent in response. “Sass?” He calls louder. Nothing. His stomach flips. Maybe you’re asleep. You have been sleeping more, taking cat naps on the couch, or crawling into bed earlier than usual. He takes the stairs two at a time and calls your name again when he gets to the top. “Sass!” The light is on in the bedroom, and he relaxes slightly. Definitely fell asleep.

When he pushes the door open, the metallic, tangy smell is the first thing that hits him. It floods his senses and his heart drops into his stomach when he sees you.

You’re on your side, on the floor, in one of his t-shirts and little cotton shorts that sit snugly on your hips. You’re lying in a pool of bright red blood that is coming from between your legs, your color off, almost dull, and your cellphone lying face down five feet from your outstretched fingers. He says something, or shouts something, but they’re not words. They’re sounds. Hoarse, horrified, panicked sounds that echo in the dead silence of the room.

“No no no-“ He rolls you on your back, pushing your hair away from your face and cradling your cheeks between his palms. “Sass. Sass, wake up. Wake up Sass, come on.” Then he tries your real name, over and over to no avail. Your chest is moving, just barely, breaths rough and shallow and he swallows the scream that’s threatening to erupt from inside his diaphragm. Your head rests limply in his hands and feels darkness ebbing around the sides of his vision. This can’t- This isn’t- He can’t breathe. The fear spreads through him like an infection, threatening to immobilize him. “Come on sweet girl. Wake up for me.” He shakes you, just a little, but you don’t respond, and he actually screams this time. Shouts at the top of his lungs, hands fumbling in his pocket for his cellphone.

The next ten minutes pass in a blur. He keeps a hand on the side of your neck to count your too slow pulse as he talks to the operator on the other end of the phone. They try to give him instructions, but his head is buzzing so loud he can hardly concentrate. The smell of your blood is too strong, and it makes him think of Belize, makes him remember that time he almost lost you before he even had you, the day that guy shot you in the ribs. He nearly killed you right in front of him and he remembers holding your body against his in the truck, his hand pressing hard, so hard, to your wound as red ichor ran beneath his fingers. You were in so much pain, so confused, and all he could do was sit there with you, running his fingers through your hair as Price drove like a madman through the streets.

He didn’t lose you then. He couldn’t lose you now. Couldn’t lose either of you.

He’s still counting the beats of your heart when he hears commotion downstairs and he yells, desperation bleeding into the crackling of his voice. “You’re alright.” He tells you. Says the same thing he told you again and again that day. “You’ll be fine. You’ll both be fine.” He sees the flash of yellow, a backboard, at the top of the stairs and somewhere beneath his panic there’s a tiny feeling of relief that help is here. “I’m here. I’ve got you, Sass.” He murmurs before forcing himself to step away so they can take his place, a portable monitor counting the beats of your heart now instead of him. He stares at it the whole time, all the way down the steps, while they load you into the back of the ambulance, and then he watches two monitors, the baby’s, and yours, while the ambulance speeds down the road. He presses his hands against the metal bench he’s sitting on, gripping it tight and trying to breathe, the images of you unconscious and bleeding burning into his memory.

He can’t lose you. He can’t lose either of you.

He closes his eyes, and clings to the steady beep of the heartbeats on the monitor.

The next work in this series is here.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #peaches writes #female reader #pregnant reader #tw pregnancy #sassy series

1K notes · View notes

cowgirlcherrie · 9 months

Text

𓏲 APPLE OF MY EYE ᵎᵎ secret admirer! abby anderson

synopsis: love is a free spirit; crushing is even harder. It all started with a special delivery of anonymous treats at your door. While you were yearning that it would be your best friend sending them to you.

song(s): apple cider by beabadoobee

*LYRICS ARE BOLDED

content: takes place in game universe. follows the events leading up to seattle day 1. violence. death. repetitive mentions of apples; eating them, imagery etc. mutual pinning. implied character death by end. blood. right person, wrong time. missed connection. kinda implied fem! reader. Joel death mention. death foreshadowing. intuitive knowledge of death. Closely follows the song.

WE BOTH LIKE APPLE CIDER

Crush and Crunch.

Crunching with your crush.

It all sounded the same to you, the cracking of your vocal cords at the back of your throat pushing at enunciating every syllable in crush sounding like crunch; which were your teeth poking into an apple every Tuesday. Shiny Granny Smiths, on Tuesdays, Honeycrisps on Wednesdays, and Fuji on Fridays.

You weren’t sure when the kitchen started getting apple deliveries; perhaps the never-ending garden of trees grown them with the perfect analytics to make sure they weren’t poisonous or synthetic apples but you weren’t complaining. The first time you tried an apple sounded ridiculous to say. Your first ever. You took the finely cut slice; detached from its core to your mouth, groaning in satisfaction as the flavors mixed together in your mouth like a rollercoaster. Juicy and bitter with a tinge of sweetness. Just how you liked it.

Abby said they were even better with cinnamon. Rambling on about how sugar and spice equate to everything nice and the best finger-licking of your dreams. On apple days, during breakfast you found yourself sitting at a secluded table with Abby in front of you slicing the apples so they were easier to consume. Shared amongst the two of you as your hands reached for the same slices; Abby pulled her hand away to let you have the last.

BUT YOUR HAIR BE SMELLING LIKE FRUIT PUNCH

You enjoyed these bittersweet moments; like the apples of course. The sun beamed on Abby’s face in marigold and marmalade, as her blonde locks blew in the air slightly disheveled from when she went on patrol that day. Her fresh scent of pine, and fruit blend from her hair which was refreshing and comforting you. She took a final bite before flipping the knife down to take it back to the utensil bin for washing. Where then the two of you would part ways. It was never awkward. Eating apples in silence; you mean — because Abby had a schedule more vigorous and deathly than yours and you had other businesses to attend to. But she never would miss out on an Apple time with you.

AND I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU THAT MUCH

You’ve grown suspicious in recent meters. You weren’t one to talk about love either but it somehow found some way to bite back at you like the juices of the apple splattering on your lips when you would eat them.

WAIT, I DO, FUCK.

It started with suspicious packages revealing themselves outside of your door, wrapped in a delicate ribbon, with a brown paper box tied off with the most absurd cursive handwriting that you could hardly read. But somehow making out, the delicate notion of

An apple a day keeps the doctor away. Xoxo, eyes from afar.

CALL ME, AT MIDNIGHT.

So as anyone else would, at midnight, you stomped your way to Abby’s door pounding your fist into the wood until she slammed it open looking at you in bewilderment. Toothbrush in between her lips scratching her teeth; scrubbing away at any build-up as she watched you. Notioning with her hands for you to speak. She looked carefree, laidback her hair was down and she looked as though she freshly showered.

“Thanks for the gift” you smirk, holding up the box with randomized love and self-care books with an intact nail polish set that was on top. It was a variety pack, swishes of different shades of pink and white, and even nudes to go for a clear coat; like a puff of cotton candy.

You were flattered, naturally, it was a sweet gift like a candy cane in the sweet summer breeze you wanted to just rip it out of the packaging and have a go. You also never had someone be so considerate of you. Thinking to bring you back something so pure and valuable that surely wouldn’t collect dust but you would bring out every month. You would make sure it wasn’t forgotten.

Abby furrowed her eyebrows, holding up her pointer finger motioning – one minute, running to the sink and spitting out the toothpaste rinsing her mouth off.

“I didn’t give you that.” Abby specified, taking a washcloth to wipe at her hands and around her mouth as she let you inside.

“C’mon Abs, even if you did that’s—”

“I didn’t give that to you.” Abby’s voice was more serious this time, stern and strict with some urgency. Not that she was being rude about it, but she was trying to get you off her case. After a long day of patrolling where she did find goodies you would like along with some ribbons from a craft store along the way, Abby got to work making you a sweet delivery. After all, you deserved it.

“But who else would know I like apples besides you!”

“Manny, Mel, Nora, Ow–”

“Okay I didn’t ask for names.” You hushed, fiddling with the box in your hand as you looked at the treats inside. Biting at your lips, it was like being given a hug but the person who gave it to you disappeared before you can offer one better, or even fully wrap your arms around them to give one back.

“This was really sweet I just wish I could give something back.” You mumbled, tilting your head down to look at the books yearningly. Amidst the violence, the blood, and the chaos, you still loved and that was what pushed you forward. That was what erupted a fire in you; triggering your passion and jumpstarting your heart like cables to a car.

“I think you shouldn’t worry about it,” Abby suggested, not looking at you but folding her laundry to put away for safekeeping.

“What?”

“What.” Abby shot back, acting as if she didn’t say anything prior, but you heard her well. Your friend, heart, and soul were being shifty with you; acting as if she didn’t care about your treats or that you were being admired from afar by someone with a sweet gentle heart.

“Nevermind I’m being silly” You confessed, taking your words back and turning on your heels to leave her room.

Abby wasn’t going to let you leave. Lips parted as she watched your feet get closer and closer to the exit of the door.

LETS GIVE, THIS, THING A TRY.

“Show me.”

You stopped walking, turning around slowly on your heels. Part of you wished it was Abby, though she would never really know. You watched the way she looked at Owen with appreciation but also disgust. How her love turned to hatred and pain. Abby wasn’t focused on you, you would think.

Abby wasn’t focused on you.

“What?”

“I said show me,” Abby confessed, her voice as clear as day, “C’mere…” Abby patted the side of her bed where she sat comfortably.

“G‘head tell me about it. I wanna see it too” Abby gave a smile. Truth is, behind her push n’ pull — rigid love and aggression she still hoped for you. Amidst her passive-aggressiveness, she was giving the love she felt as though she would never feel again. The permanent hole in her heart that you kept on refiling and you didn’t even know.

She didn’t want you to slip through the cracks of her fingers just yet. Hiding behind a mask, cowardly shying herself away from you. Owen wasn’t on her mind but having you think that especially as she set off on a spree for the man who killed Jerry, would fix that. You were a liability, she wouldn’t let you go.

You made your way down the steps, to her bed tucked in the corner nook, sitting down as you opened the package. With that you started rambling, tossing the paper apart like a kid on Christmas, showing Abby the hardcover copies with a dopey smiley on your face. Abby couldn’t contain her own smile either. Watching as you went through each nail polish shade.

“Can I try these on you?” You held up a baby pink, it was in a ballet slipper shade, which would make a good neutral against her bright skin.

Abby wasn’t going to resist, shrugging up her shoulders against her black long-sleeve shirt, pushing the shirt up on her arms, “Sure”

So you proceeded further with painting her nails that evening, toxic paint brushing on her fingers like a canvas — while the two of you whisked away in laughter. It was like a red string wrapped around the two of your fingers, webbing you together and pulling you closer and closer until there was no gaps or lack of air.

It was pure and for the moment you really valued it. What you didn’t know you had until it was gone. You wished you could have hugged her a little bit longer, and learned more about her besides what she was showing you at a service level. You wanted to know Abigail, not Abby. Before it was snatched away from you with the snap of the fingers. Get the gunpowder dust off the sea salt it was time for war.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

YOU SAID YOU LIKED MY HAIR, SO GO AHEAD AND TOUCH IT.

I like your hair today, and your necklace xoxo, eyes from afar

Maybe it was the validation or the comments but you loved receiving the little notes wrapped in different color ribbons. Maybe you were looking forward to catching your second set of eyes. Lingering outside your door to see if they would show but it was always as if they knew your schedule. Catering to the perfect moments that you were gone to slip the delight at your door.

The note of this week – bringing joyous to your being made you wear the delicate jewelry even more. At first, when you wore it, it was just a careless decision that you did for fun. Spontaneous and last minute as you untangled it in between your fingertips pulling out the birthstone necklace that was gifted to you from no other than Abby herself; weeks before the arrival of your secret admirer. But the moment you remembered, clasping it on around your neck was the moment you truly valued it even more. You were certainly never going to take it off.

YOU SAID YOU LIKED THE JUMPER I WORE, SO I ALWAYS WORE IT.

But your bright radiating aura, evidently in hues of pink and purple; signs of love and wisdom was shortly dimmed by the chatter during your afternoon meal. You were set to follow Jordan to the Serevena, patrolling being the last thing you wanted to do of the evening. Endless pit in your stomach nothing felt right. The snap before everything fell apart.

Out for blood, out for vengeance was Abigail Anderson who returned with blood on her hands. Murderer!Murderer! Red-handed girl with fury in her eyes and a golf club sharp at the end splattering everything into two.

Wrecking havoc; causing destruction.

That was all you heard from Jordan as you chewed through the same-old burrito that evening. That was enough to make your eardrums bleed. You could feel your heart in your ears jumping out of your chest at the whispers of Abby’s name, eyes darting from table to table to hear if anyone had caught wind of such a subject:

I heard she…

Can’t imagine that…

That’s terrifying…

No Abby mention.

Coincidentally amongst Abby’s absence; the snarky girl was gone with the wind, and so was your secret admirer. The deliveries stopped coming, you were alone, with a set of eyes ‘watching you’ and apples to now peel on your own. . . you found it odd, but one thing for sure was that Abby would hear from you later, where you would gush about this admirer of yours and what you imagined them to be.

IT’S REALLY NICE TO TALK TO YOU, IT’S REALLY NICE TO HOLD YOUR HAND

“Abs on a scale of 1-10 how attractive do you think my admirer is” You pondered, hands entangled in the pages of a fashion magazine. Fingers dusting away at the thin layer of grime and grey from the dust and dirt; signs of age.

“Probably like a 3” Abby confessed bluntly as she walked around her room moving vastly to pack away her belongings.

Abby’s side of her room was neater in comparison to Manny’s, her laundry was folded, memories stored away for safekeeping, and everything was where it needed to be. Including your ribbon and the scissors she used — the bad duct tape she stole for security.

“Really?”

“Okay, maybe a 5, it could well off be a creep,” Abby muttered as she continued to push different survival items into her bag, jacket first, followed by flashlights and extra batteries.

“I don’t think it is though,” Abby froze, panicking instilling in her, it was like a vicious game of hot and cold, you creeping closer and closer to her and it was time for Abby to fall back and bring on the passiveness.

“What?”

“I mean imagine this, they send me a final letter asking me to meet by the gardens where they reveal their identity to be no other than —”

“Save that for a fantasy, I’m leaving” Abby spat, cutting the happiness in the air with a thick knife which was her voice that evening. It felt like a safety net for her to drop off bad news right after you gave the good ones, almost debunking it creating a hostile environment, and shattering the rose-tinted glasses off. Then you remembered who you were talking to, what you were doing. A flower in the middle of an apocalypse, Abby being covered in thorns.

“Is it because you killed that man”

“What makes you think it’s…who told you?” Abby furrowed her eyebrows stopping her movement to let you get a good look at her face. Abby was looking you up and down like you ripped the bandaid off her arm like you were digging your fingers into a cut infecting it with your fingertips and any active bacteria.

“Word travels around here pretty fast, this isn’t knew information”

A beat. And then another.

“Are you satisfied” You perk up, not breaking eye contact with the blonde in front of you. The fresh azul orbs dilating under the words that left your mouth. She looked at you with such admiration, but the mention of Jerry was enough to make Abby swing hard as she was back in the room holding her weapon of choice. Who was she to play god? Be the bearer of death? Call of evil? Abby thought back to what she was fighting for: was she satisfied? It wouldn’t bring her father back but there was a price on her head. Preferably until her life was obliterated and gone with her head.

“Hmm”

“Because you don’t look satisfied” Your voice cracked, you were cutting into her skin and Abby was growing steadily uncomfortable, shifting her weight. Cracking her knuckles and rolling her head as she looked at you. Like a pretty Jem stone in a dimly lit room; all eyes on you she didn’t want to talk about this with you. Someone she was so emotionally connected with, god — anybody else but you.

“I…I need to go.” Abby stood up, swinging her backpack in her arms as you followed suit in the silence.

You stood up mimicking her actions taking your magazine in between your fingers and holding it close to your chest.

“When will you be back?” you whispered, picking at the skin surrounding your nails as you rubbed your lips against each other as you rocked your body forward and backward. Abby’s eyes softened, looking at you up and down as she stuck her tongue in her cheek, clenching her jaw tightly. It almost pained her to say.

AND EVEN IF WE’RE JUST FRIENDS, WE CAN BE, MORE THAN THAT.

“Soon…I hope, I’ll be back soon” Abby asserted. Abby bowed her head, cusping your cheeks in between her hands as she gave a chaste kiss to your cheek. Calloused fingers rubbing at your soft skin, It was a friendly thing, right? Nothing more?

She didn’t even like you that much.

But you on the other hand weren’t sure of your own feelings.

Like a tough game of tug-of-war, you wanted her, then you didn’t, then you couldn’t shake yourself out of it. You liked her and you wanted her. You wished and hoped that the admirer of yours would be her. The person you had sleepovers where you would laugh about your events and enjoy the delicacies delivered by your admirer you would have it no other way.

When she pulled away you struggled to find the words, hands jittery somewhere between reaching to grab your cheek or to wipe off her kiss with your hand. You weren’t sure how to feel. It was as if someone held a gun to your head telling you the right pill or blue.

“May your survival be long” you reminded, holding a hand at your arm scratching at your sleeves.

“May your death be swift”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

CALL ME AT MIDNIGHT, LETS GIVE THIS THING A TRY.

If you could do it all again you would.

ASK YOU IF ITS OKAY,

You were alone, deep into your ocean of thoughts as your happy moments were coming to an end? Did you take it for granted?

TO HAVE A SLEEPOVER,

The burrito you ate that evening wanting to come up, mouth sticky with bile. You suddenly didn’t want to patrol the Serevena and help Nora move supplies. It felt wrong – almost impractical like you were in the wrong place. Foot cemented into the floor as you stood at your bed. Shoving supplies into your backpack, tying a strand of the ribbon from your admirer's box around the handle of your bag. You wanted to be back at the base with Abby where the two of you would have your sleepovers, cut your apples, and have competitive matches in the shooting range where you would tell Abby she missed a shot and she would tell you, you held the gun wrong.

Preparing to leave, doing one final spin at your place of comfort. Freshly made bed and sorrowful grey sheets, you wished for a happier time and a great release. Opening your door, you were met with one box before you would go. Picking up the lightweight box it almost felt impractical to even be wrapped.

TO DRINK SOME APPLE CIDER, OR MAYBE SOME FRUIT PUNCH

Parting gift for the one I stole these for… don’t forget me Xoxo, A. Anderson Your eyes always

You smiled to yourself, it was all you ever wanted. Your best friend really was your admirer and you just hoped you could reach her before she was gone and it truly could have been your last time seeing her. Unwrapping the terribly wrapped paper object revealed a shiny sharpened knife with a brown handle. It was Abby’s knife, the one she savored and used only for your apples that she would cut during your lunch breaks. Tears brimmed your eyes moving the object around as if it were malleable, smiling gently to yourself at the irony of it all. Quickly locking the door and throwing the paper that was used to wrap the gift away in the hall trash you ran to try to catch Abby who was already on the truck, across from Mel as she set off on her journey. As the sun was getting low, so were you who had to travel adjacent from your new fount lover.

What were you gonna say?

Besides: I knew it, of course, you wanted her to know that you felt the same; in fact even more.

AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT HOW WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER THAT MUCH.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“There’s no real you are real right now”

“Shh– baby, I’m real” Abby hushed bringing up her hand to your mouth to silence you. “I’m real.”

You were currently carrying a tray of med supplies but soon it all crashed to the ground; metal tin hitting the floor as Abby backed away into a corner. She looked disheveled different than you had last seen her; whispies around her face. Like she cared a little bit more, but maybe it was because she was with you.

You couldn’t help but bring Abby into a tight hug head against her shoulder, resting your eyes in full solitude. You were home amidst the violence and her going AWOL that had made Isaac angry with all of you. You lied thickly through your teeth when Isaac dragged you in asking questions about the location and conspiration Abby had going on.

All you could say was you didn’t know.

And it wasn’t a lie but in fact the truth there was not much you really did know.

Abby held onto you as if you were going to be snatched out of her hands as the both of you cried. Sobbs shaking the both of you. Abby couldn’t stop herself from applying gentle kisses to the side of your head and holding at the nape of your neck during the hug.

“You look like shit!” you acknowledged pulling at the sleeve of her jacket to which Abby rolled her eyes and pulled your hand away.

“Ahh could be worse”

A beat. And another; comfortable silence filling the air between the two of you. You didn’t wanna ask but for your newfound knowledge, you had no other choice but to. You wanted her to know, hell you haven’t seen her for very long and this well could have been the last time you would ever.

“So it was you? All along” you sputtered, snickering under your breath as you brought your hands across your chest, licking the base of your lips as your eyes wandered off.

“It was – hey! You opened the letters” Abby gave you a look of disbelief, half of it was due to her being scared shitless, others it was the fact that Abby could feel her own hands getting clammy as she rubbed them against the base of her jeans to get it to stop.

“It said 2 —”

“Weeks I know” “I was desperate”

There was silence again.

“I could just kiss you right now I can’t believe you are alive” You blurted out, giving Abby the most gentle smile. Abby for a second felt her world move in slow motion as she stared with such unconditional love.

“Then do it”

So you did, rushing forward, throwing your body against Abby’s as the two of you leaned in for a swift kiss. Her lips were chapped, slightly rugged but you didn’t mind applying your smooth ones to her as the movements of your body synched together in eternal sunshine. Nothing in this moment mattered, besides her lips on yours and her hands against your body. Abby’s fingers stroked at your cheeks eventually moving down between your jaw and your neck as she continued. No breaks; no air, until the sound of boots stomping closer to the room rang your ears, forcing you to pull away.

“Okay, I need supplies miserably Nora brought me to you, I have to go, I don’t know if this will be my last time seeing you: I hope it’s not, I’m not exactly in Isaac’s good graces – I think we both know that” Abby spoke with urgency, distrust but also sadness. Abby wasn’t sure but recently she’s been feeling as though things were slipping in between her fingers. She wasn’t sure how long this ecstasy and rapture would last, or the longevity of her contentment. Abby was certain the girl from the room; with the golf club and joel would show her face again.

“It’s okay” you assured, hands now at Abby’s biceps, lips rubbing against each other as you turned your head away from her face, shaking it slightly.

“But don’t forget. . .” “I’m so incredibly infatuated by you” Abby whispered as she moved in closer to give a swift kiss to your forehead.

Now wasn’t the time for formalities or titles, but you wished with your fingers crossed and your eyes closed shut, that she would return for the conversation worth having. Full honesty and confessional where your girl that smelled of pine would tell you all her rushes of thoughts that nagged at her as she closed her eyes.

“Knife to the chest sweetheart, swing with your right not your left…it’s your better arm” Abby cautioned, pretending to bring her arm up to swing, giving a final squeeze to your cheek as she was headed for the door preparing for ground zero.

“Bye Abby”

That was the difference, it was as if your body knew. Saying Bye instead of a see you later or, playfully threatening her to come back to you in one piece. Your eyebrows furrowed; your face scrunched as you cringed at your words, as mediocre as they sounded. You caught yourself doing that a lot and you weren’t sure why. Going from present tense to past tense. “I am” to “I did” to “I was” , this happened after you started dreaming. Dreaming that your body was against a cold tile, scrunching into a ball as you let out your last breath alone.

You knew.

“This is not goodbye — don’t say that, it’s see you later!” Abby snapped, giving you a hand motion as she swung the door open, crouching down as she moved steadily through the room as it closed behind her with a loud CLICK! From the lock.

“I’ll see you later” Your hand went from waving to at your side as your smile dropped and abruptly the warm room felt cold. Very cold.

But you weren’t going to see her later. Body paralyzed to the floor as the bullet wound in your stomach bled crimson all over the floor. As red as the Honeycrisp apples you ate on Wednesdays. An auburn-haired girl rushes past you following the footsteps of Nora. You were crashing and your body was failing you. Whimpers of pain escaped your lips as you held onto your stomach like you had a bad stomach ache, rolling onto your side as your vision became a nuisance and blurry mess. During your last few moments, you thought of Abby and her bright smile, all the plans she had for the two of you, and how you were finally happy that you got your happy ending,

But at what cost?

You weren’t going to get to drink apple cider with her or hug her again, and that’s what destroyed you the most as a salted tear fell from your eye. Apple was placed on the table rotting from the inside out, With Abby’s knife poked into its core. Death has met its match.

You were the apple of her eye, and you were destroyed and eaten whole indefinitely.

taglist

@beforeimdeceased @starologist @destielcore @rarestdoll @luvrgalore @ellsss @zahraaziza @emluvselandabs @abbyily @elliestrwbrry @mossc0vered @spacewlf @as2rid @ariianelle @spaceshipellie @lottiematthewsceo @emonopolyman @imamybubbles @mikasbby @trulygnomed

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ccbunnv · 2 months

Note

omg hi i need rough bill smut !!! love ur writing btw take ur time hun <333

this is for 2013 bill btw teehee i needed to show some love for that era of his <33

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader smut

the alarm clock beeps and you're forced to wake up to endure yet another day of work. you work in white-collar positions, which is just bullshit term for working in corporate.

you force yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes groggily before looking out the window. the same Los Angeles city skyline greets you and you sigh, taking in the view before having to leave for work.

you look beside you, and a better view graces your eyes. your fiancé, Bill. his peaceful face, set upon the soft pillow, his blonde hair strewn about yet decorating his face perfectly.

combing his locks back to see his face properly, you can't help but press a kiss onto his forehead, just for good luck. you soon flip the blanket off your body and get off the bed.

but as you're standing, you suddenly feel Bill's hand grab ahold of your waist and pulls you back into the sheets. like a horror movie, he tugs you back into his embrace.

"don't go." he says softly.

"I have to." you mumble back.

"just take a day off." he says, pressing a kiss against your back.

"I can't do that." you say, turning your head over to kiss his temple.

"please?" his voice is soft, as if begging you to stay.

"no, love." you sigh, turning around so you can hug him properly.

your arms hold him close, your face promptly buried in his chest, "I'll be home before you know it."

"no, it'll feel like ages." he groans.

"you can always watch movies while I'm gone. walk the dogs, maybe you can go pester Tom?" you say softly.

"I don't want to do that. I wanna laze around with you today. it's a lazy friday." he mumbles, pressing his lips on the top of your head.

"it's just a day left, then tomorrow you'll have me all to yourself." you say, trying to lift his spirits.

"I want you today, though." he says, still trying to convince you to stay back in bed with him.

"as much as I'd love to, sweetheart." you say, "I can't."

he grumbles, keeping you in his arms for as long as he could, "then why don't I show you why you should stay in bed with me?"

you're curious, until he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hand creeping into your shirt. you can feel his tattooed hand cup your breast, his thumb pressing onto your nipple.

your breath hitches and you whine softly, arching your back. his teeth find placement on your shoulder, digging his canines in just slightly.

he pulls away, brushing his tongue against the bite mark he left you. a quiet whimper leaves your lips as you try to respond, "Bill, come on, not now..."

"just be quiet," he whispers, "and let me pleasure you, hm?"

you think about it, hesitating before you nod. he smirks and kisses your lips, "atta girl."

he presses his lips against yours once more, this time he slips his tongue in without a warning. you could feel his tongue prodding at every inch of your mouth, taking claim of what's his.

a muffled moan finds its way out of your mouth and he returns it with a groan, rolling your nipple betwixt his thumb and his index finger. it's early in the morning, but you needed him. badly.

his hand leaves your breast and trails its way down your waist, towards your hips, where you wear nothing but your own panties. he slides his hand under your panties and presses his fingers against your clit, making another sultry moan leave your lips.

he pulls away slowly and trails kisses down your chin, to your throat. his index and middle finger find their way down, rubbing your clitoris in circles, teasing you relentlessly. you buck your hips, trying to find some friction to soothe the desire in between your thighs.

with a laugh, he pulls his hand back which makes you snap your eyes open, wondering why he would do that. he pushes himself up and sits on his knees, finding placement in between your thighs.

you notice his hard-on, quite literally straining his grey calvin klein boxers. his hand lifts the t-shirt you wore to sleep, one of his old shirts from 2009. your nipples stiffen as they're exposed to the cold air, and he licks his lips.

his hand returns in between your thighs, his index and middle finger prodding at your cunt before delving into your hole. he leans over and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, pressing his tongue against it while thrusting his fingers into your pussy.

the wet squelches that fill the room is accompanied by your whorish moans, your thighs trembling as you feel your own orgasm about to wash over. but as it's about to happen, he pulls away with a smile.

you pant, holding his forearms tightly, "why'd you do that...?"

he doesn't respond, instead he flips you over, your head against the pillow and your ass in the air. his hand tugs at his own boxers, pulling them down and freeing his cock.

he presses his dick against your slick, which entices a moan from your throat, muffled by the pillow. you can feel each vein on his shaft upon your heat, teasing you ever so slightly.

his tip presses against your entrance, and you wriggle your hips, trying to urge him to push it in. he laughs at your impatience, before finally entering. the way his shaft filled you up, the feeling was indescribable.

in one go, he pushes everything in, until he was balls deep within your cunt. you grip the sheets, sob-like whines leaving your lips involuntarily. you couldn't help it, he feels so good.

slowly, he pulls his hips away and with twice the speed, he rams it in, earning a choked moan from you. he repeats this action, his hand reaching over to grab a handful of your hair, tugging it as he fucked you ruthlessly. the tip of his cock would hit your g-spot, continuously abusing it and it made your thighs tremble.

your body is covered in sweat, the bedsheets are all wet, and you're sure to be late but you couldn't care. not when he was rearranging your guts like this. moans rumble out of your throat, your breath coming in short while he simply kept thrusting.

"fuck, good girl..." he grunts, "so tight...f'me."

your eyes roll back into your skull, your drool already staining the pillow case. you begin to move your hips back, in rhythm to his thrusting, and he only laughed when you did.

he praises you, "good girl, so cute...you want my cum?"

you nod enthusiastically, maybe you were just a little bit dick-crazy right now but you know, who cares.

his hips stutter as it continues to smack against your ass, filling you with his dick before pulling away momentarily, signalling that he's so close to filling you with his seed.

the thought of it arouses you even more and you could feel your own orgasm coming again. he pulls on your hair more, and whispers right into your ear, "don't you even think of cumming yet, schatz."

you abide his command with a moan, nodding stupidly.

he drives his cock furthur into you, prodding at the entrance of your womb. you let out another moan, unable to hold it in anymore. that's when he chuckles breathily, "cum with me, love, okay?"

you nod once more, whining into the pillow.

with one final thrust, thick ropes of his seed paint your gummy walls, leaving them in a milky white. your brain short circuits as you cum with him, leaving a thin sheen of gloss on the base of his dick.

he continues to thrust into you, though his movements much more sloppier. he drives his cum deep into you, seemingly set on making you pregnant. a circle of white froth forms at his base, and he pulls out finally.

he smiles upon seeing you all tired, and leans over to kiss your forehead. he flips you back over and looks at the clock, before smiling, "oh hey, you're late for work. guess you should take the day off, huh."

you grumble, punching his chest lightly, "screw you."

"you just did."

"horrible pun."

𓆩♱𓆪

a/n: heehee i fitted some of my kinks i hope you all liked that

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz smut

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spiralgirlblu · 7 months

Text

String of Unfortunate Events

It had been a rough week for Bri. It had started on Monday, when her boss let her know that she would be laid off and he ‘wouldn’t be able to help her find a job anywhere else’, so she was on her own. After a couple days and little help from anyone around her, her dog passed away. She was a complete emotional wreck and was completely reliant on her boyfriend to keep up her spirits. Unfortunately, Bri’s douchebag boyfriend of over 4 years thought this was the time to tell her he thought things weren’t working out, and she was left alone in her apartment. She was stuck wallowing alone for a few days until her sister would be able to fly out from Japan to Omaha.

Bri had spent her Friday morning meal prepping for the weekend, job hunting, and crying watching TV in her oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants that made her skinny but curvy body impossible to find the outlines of. After a long day of sorrow and disappointment, she decided she was gonna turn to her trusty hypnotic tape to calm her down and have a good orgasm. Bri sat down in her bed and shed her protective armor, down to just her bra and panties, which flew off after not too long as well.

Bri had gotten a couple texts from a couple people that she decided to answer before she went into her trance. Her sister had left her another “I love you” long message which she really appreciated. Her next door neighbor and best friend Rosie said that she was making cookies for her since she had a tough week. Bri answered her “Thank you my lovie. Either leave them on the doorstep for tonight, or I’d be able to come over and get them tomorrow if ya wanna have a chat too :)” She exited her messaging app and started the hypnosis file.

Over the course of the first few minutes of the file, Bri started to lul back into the trance that had been so familiar to her years ago, from the time before her ex-boyfriend. Even though it had been years since she last listened to the file, once she started to daze, the trance was just as strong as she remembered. She was finally happy, and let herself fade back into the trance she told herself she needed.

Her arms were nearly limp, just laying on her toned stomach as wave after wave of serenity and pleasure pulsed through her body. Bri audibly sighed, indicating she was ready to go into trance. In her last seconds of semi-clarity, she saw a text from Rosie that read “Oh girlie I know how bad you need these cookies, I’m coming over tonight. ” Her last thought was a simple “uh oh” before dropping into complete mindless oblivion.

___

When Bri awoke, she was extremely groggy. She had to blink a few times and stretch to fully get out of her subspace, and started to try to understand the world around her again. Everything seemed normal until she rolled over and saw the single most handsome, fit man laying next to her, equally as naked .

“Who are you?” She said, shocked to see a new person next to her.

“Stay calm.” He said, not addressing her question. Instantly as he said it, she felt all her fear and anxieties settle down. Still she was curious who the man who had seemingly broken into her apartment was.

“How did you get in here?” She finally got him to look at her with this question, and his face was just as gorgeous as his body.

“No more questions. On your knees, get off the bed.”

“Yes, Sir.” She answered, surprising herself yet again. She was quick to rise to her knees before the god-like stranger. As he stood up, she laid her first look on the 8 inch cock he carried between his legs, and couldn’t bring herself to look away from it

“Open your mouth and suck, slut.”

“Yes, Sir.” Bri’s mind raced with questions. Why couldn’t she control her body? Why couldn’t she say anything? Why was she listening to this rude man? And why did she willingly open her mouth and accept this man’s penis, thrusting deep into her instantly?

None of those questions would be answered, but she continued to take more and more of the mystery man’s cock down her throat. This went on for a few minutes, until he stopped fucking her throat quickly and cupped her chin, picking her head up to his level. She looked so submissive, pliable to his hand’s actions, staring up at him with her big doe eyes. “Good warm-up, now it’s time for doggy. Get on your hands and bark, pet.”

“Yes, Sir.” she quickly responded, getting down on her hands and pushing her plump ass and pussy out to her mental captor. She gave a quick “ruff ruff” before feeling the tool that had just been using her throat enter her pussy with vigor. She struggled to hold herself up with her arms as it took nearly no time for the man to get in a rhythm and make her feel even weaker.

As harsh as it was, Bri couldn’t fight the fact that it felt so good to be fucked by the mystery man. She thought that there was something that she was concerned about before the man had woken her up, but she wasn’t sure of much before she got on her knees. As a few minutes passed, Sir had worked Bri very close to the point of cumming, but as he thrusted, she wasnt getting up to the edge and she couldn’t figure out why. And then he spoke to her again.

“Ohhhh babyy. Fuck im getting close. Build yourself up to the brink and don’t cum until I snap, understand slut?”

“Yes-s, Sirr.” She answered as she finally got past horny and was fully on the precipice of orgasm, waiting for her master’s command. She heard a stark grunt behind her, followed by a snap which turned her world upside down. Her vision went fully black as the most violent orgasm of her entire life overtook her body. Her arms failed on her and her head dropped right down to her bed, eyes fully rolled back inside her head.

The man withdrew his still erect hammer from her dripping hole, and after giving her a minute to finish cumming, picked up her body and started to carry her downstairs. He sat her in a chair at her kitchen table, and put his mouth up to her ear. “Now fully wake up, Bri.”

Bri had to blink a few times in order to come back into the real world, but the first thing she felt was how absolutely blissful and used her body felt. This was immediately trailed by the smell of semi-fresh cookies. She groggily looked to her left to see the man, but actually saw Rosie smiling, naked with a strapon hanging off her waist. Bri simply stared at the attractive woman in awe of both the last half hour, and the body of her gorgeous best friend.

“Hi honey, you told me a few things when I found you with that file. And frankly, we BOTH needed that.”

After a few minutes of silence and shock, Bri responded. “And we need it again. But I want to obey YOU next time, mistress.”

______

I’ve been getting people asking for another story so here you all go ! Thanks to the few people who proofread it already !

#spiralgirlstories #spiralgirl #hypno fantasy #brainless #hypnok1nk

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happiest-hotch · 10 months

Note

Can you write something summer-y for Hotch? Maybe he comes home early from a case and finds Reader and Jack having fun in the pool? Or anything that gives that summer feeling lol

One of the best things about living with Aaron and Jack, aside from getting to live with your favorite people in the world, is the pool.

You didn’t understand why it was such a deal breaker for him since he and Jack barely used the one at his old apartment, until summer rolled around and with it, the heat.

DC’s heatwave would have killed you without a pool.

Jack had jumped in right after soccer day camp and after an hour of cooling off, he finally agreed on coming inside for dinner. The routine is a little more relaxed when Aaron’s away, even more so when it’s summer vacation.

That reason alone is probably why he easily convinced you to get back in the pool after dinner and TV, just before bedtime.

But it’s Friday and wearing him out means he’ll sleep to mid morning Saturday and hopefully it serves as a distraction from him missing his dad. Night time is usually when he misses his dad the most do you do what’s possible to ensure he’s asleep as son as his head his the pillow.

Aaron has echoed the same feeling when you talk to him on the phone, and he definitely has it worse, halfway across the country in Dallas where the weather is switching between thunderstorms and extreme humidity.

“You wanna play Marco Polo?” You ask Jack, distracting yourself from looking at the barbecue and remembering Aaron grilling just before he left.

He splashes some water your way before answering. “Okay, you go first. I’ve been practicing holding my breath though so you’ll lose.”

His identical competitive spirit to Aaron’s doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you grin as you splash some water back.

You cup your hand over your eyes, listening to him splash away from you. “Marco!” You call.

“Polo.” The reply came from a voice far too deep to being to an eight year old and you pull your hands off your eyes to see Aaron standing by the pool’s edge.

“Daddy!” Jack exclaims, jumping out of the pool and running over to hug Aaron. He’s soaking wet, dripping with chlorinated water, but Aaron don’t hesitate to hug him. He shed his jacket and tie, but you’re not sure how he’s coping with how hot it is in a long sleeve shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, bud.” Aaron greets him. “What are you doing up at…” He pauses to check the time on his watch, eyes darting to you still in the pool. “…8:42.”

You give Aaron your best puppy dog eyes, although you know he’s not mad. “Swimming, duh.” Jack replies, sassy as always.

You bite back a chuckle as Aaron does the same thing. “Yeah, I gathered that.” He says.

“Come in.” Jack insists. “You have to.”

“It’s late and you should probably be in bed already.” Aaron says, taking the firm line like you expected he would.

It’s okay though because you have a plan. “Can you give me a hand up?” You ask, swimming to the edge and holding your hand out.

Aaron frowns slightly, but he’s too excited to see you to ask why you won’t use the stairs. “Sure.” He reaches out to grab your hand but you pull hard, overpowering him easily since he doesn’t expect it.

You quickly swim out of the way, and he lands in the pool behind you, yelping- hilariously- when he hits the water.

Jack’s laughing with you, thoroughly amused by your mischief and enjoying seeing his professionally dressed dad in the pool.

When Aaron surfaces, he’s failing too glare at you. He’d fully commit to the bit of being annoyed if he wasn’t smiling so widely.

“You’re naughty.” Aaron says, waggling his finger at you.

You swim closer to him, brushing some hair off his forehead. “Welcome home.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fic

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juyeonszn · 7 months

Text

SAME DREAM, SAME MIND, SAME NIGHT

PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.60k

GENRES smut ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of crack tbh

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fawn when she can’t get enough of the brothers best friend trope, hyunjae and jacob are side characters that never actually make an appearance, younghoon is wearing a ghostface mask for 2 seconds 😵‍💫, reader is down bad, younghoon is also down pretty bad, size kink — the obvious yk, he’s big everywhere tbh, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, missionary/lowkey mating press towards the end LMFAOOOO i’m sorry i got carried away, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy drunk!younghoon (i lied he’s down horrendous), creampie, the couch is a paid actor, last scene is kinda silly kinda cute, lmk if i missed anything!!

SUMMARY hyunjae really shouldn’t have left you home alone.

MORE and day 3 of fawntober has made her entrance 😈 i’m curious,,, how do we feel about these so far? i feel like i’m focusing on this challenge more than i am my school work 😭😭

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Being home alone has never been much of an issue for you. All throughout high school, you stayed home by yourself when your parents worked late and your brother had practice. And even now, well into adulthood, you’d never really been afraid of being alone.

If it were up to you, you’d live all by yourself. But unfortunately, rent was way too expensive to afford on your own. More fortunately, your brother had a spare room in his apartment for you. Pros included low grocery costs, low monthly rent, and free parking. Cons included living with your brother, living with one of his best friends, and having to deal with two grown men who sometimes acted like children.

It was a Friday night and both Hyunjae and Jacob were out, attending a Halloween party one of their friends was throwing. The holiday was only a few days away, so almost everyone you knew was hosting parties this weekend. Along with being content to stay alone in your home, you were even more so to never leave it. Going out and getting black out drunk or worse didn’t sound very appealing to you.

Nights like these were the rare occasion you got to be with yourself and some movies, snuggled with a blanket on your couch. Living with only men did not provide any luxuries except maybe someone to kill a spider every now and then. So you were abusing the fuck out of the opportunity, dressed in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and some crew socks, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as you watch the second installment of the Scream franchise. (Might as well get in the holiday spirit.)

There’s a knock at your door, causing you to raise an eyebrow. It was half past midnight and your brother mentioned that he and Jacob would be crashing over at Sangyeon’s after the party. You were also very much single, so you weren’t expecting anyone to come over either. The only other possible explanation was maybe a food delivery, but you hadn’t ordered anything.

You assume it’s someone at the wrong apartment and choose to ignore it, putting your focus back on the movie. Your mug raises to your lips, taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink just as the movie’s plot begins to progress. Before you can fully revert into your concentration, there’s another knock.

A sigh escapes your mouth, setting down the mug and pausing the movie. Your sock-clad feet trudge over to the front door, expression flat as you undo all of the locks and swing it open. You jump at the sight in front of you, nearly dying of a heart attack on the spot.

A tall figure, dressed in all black and wearing a Ghostface mask stands on the other side, one arm resting on the threshold of your doorframe and their body weight leaning against it. When they realize they’ve almost killed you, they gasp.

“Oh my god, I forgot I was wearing this stupid thing.”

The person hurriedly removes the mask to reveal one of your brother’s other friends, Kim Younghoon. The tall male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, apologizing for nearly making you faint. You clutch at your chest as your breathing stabilizes and your heart rate returns to normal.

“Jesus, Younghoon. Couldn’t you have said something before I opened the door?” You hold the heel of your palm to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he bows slightly, his eyes drifting off to something behind you. “Woah, wait, are you watching Scream 2 right now?”

“Uh, yeah?” At that moment you notice the silly coincidence that his costume happened to be Ghostface. “Do— um— do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles, tucking his mask under his arm and following you into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to hit all the locks as well.

As the two of you sit at the couch and you resume the movie, you purse your lips in confusion. You were curious as to why Younghoon was here in the first place, seeing as your brother was not. He had to have known that information himself considering he was dressed like he’d just come from a Halloween party. It only made sense that it was the same one Hyunjae and Jacob attended.

“Wait, so what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. Shit, you weren’t wearing any pants…

“Oh! Right,” he nods, ruffling his hair a bit. “I woke up really early this morning and it was starting to catch up with me so I decided to leave Sangyeon’s party to head home. Hyunjae asked if I could stop by to check on you since it was on the way.”

A simple call or text from your brother himself couldn’t suffice? You guess the fact that Younghoon really did live close by coupled with Hyunjae’s intoxication might’ve been a factor in asking his friend for the favor. All you can do is hum in response.

You weren’t all that upset by Younghoon’s sudden appearance either, and you were more than happy to invite him into your apartment any time. Out of all of your brother’s friends, excluding Jacob, Younghoon was probably your favorite. Aside from having a little crush on his handsome face, he was the easiest to get along with and you felt comfortable around him. Sometimes you wish he was your other roommate instead.

But then again, the thought of him being so domestic around you was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, much like his accidental jumpscare from earlier. Just imagining waking up to him making coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, wearing your Hello Kitty apron, had your pulse quickening. Oh God, bumping into him exiting the bathroom after he’s showered? Nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and droplets of water decorating his no doubtedly sculpted chest?

Did someone crank up the thermostat?

“Y/N? N/N. N/N… Y/N!”

You blink, snapping yourself back into reality. Younghoon waves his hands back and forth in front of your face, a cute pout on his lips. He really was not making this any easier for you. You clear your throat, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Y-Yes?” Why did you have to stutter, you fucking loser? There you go, blowing your cover.

“I was just wondering if you’ve seen the movies before. But you kinda spaced out on me there. You okay?” He asks, face full of concern. It doesn’t do much to quiet the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. If anything, it makes it ten times worse.

“Oh… Um. Yeah, I have,” your voice wavers. “And I-I’m fine, I swear. Don’t even worry about me.”

Your efforts to convince him are futile and instead of de-escalating the situation, you just add further fuel to the fire. He leans in to you, permeating your personal bubble as he examines your expression. If he moved even closer, his lips could land on your own, and the idea of that has you shrinking in on yourself.

“Are you… nervous around me?”

Did he have any sense of self-awareness? Did he think he wasn’t intimidating in this proximity to you? Kim Younghoon’s new talent just dropped; driving you to the brink of insanity!

You swallow thickly, eyes a little wide like a deer caught in headlights. Your line of eyesight falters to his lips, even more kissable now that they’re so close to yours. You shake your head when you realize that you haven’t responded, praying and hoping you were keeping your composure.

“I don’t really believe you, Y/N,” he says, tone no louder than a whisper, but so voluminous in your empty apartment. “So, I’m gonna rephrase my question. Are you nervous to be alone with me?”

When you process his words, you come to the conclusion that, yes, you are nervous to be alone with him. Your brother and Jacob were usually around when he was, so you’d never been in this position before. You’ve never truly been alone with Younghoon. Perhaps that was because you knew you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself, afraid you might fuck up and say something stupid to him.

A few seconds pass with nothing but the noise of the movie still playing in the background, your lips pressed together. His eyes bore into yours, dark and swirling with something that looks a whole lot like lust. Your silence is a sufficient answer for him, one of his hands coming up to support his weight on the armrest of the couch behind you. The other trails up your thigh, the sheer size of it big enough to nearly cover the expanse of your skin.

Younghoon’s lips part when he slides under your sweatshirt and finds that you’re not wearing anything underneath. His eyes flutter shut with a sigh, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me no before I lose all of my self control and I can’t hold back.” He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, voice hushed.

The better, rational part of you wants to say no. It wants to tell him that you shouldn’t do this, because what would your brother think? Hyunjae would beat his ass if he found out about the two of you, especially on the living room sofa. Hell, he’d beat your ass for sleeping with one of his friends. But the part of you that was unhinged and has dreamt of this moment for years wants to say otherwise.

That part is what has you spreading your legs, taking Younghoon’s hand and leading it to where you need him most.

“Don’t hold back.” You breathe into his ear, your free hand coming up to the back of his neck and pulling his lips onto yours.

You whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your lace covered clit simultaneously. He’s by no means gentle, tongue tangling with your own roughly and desperately, as if he’s been dreaming of this just as much as you. He halts his motions, creeping further under your sweatshirt to palm your bare breasts and grind his hips into yours.

Your back arches off the couch, the feeling of his large hand on your chest goading your arousal. Younghoon presses open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking and nipping your supple skin, licking the abused area to soothe any pain. You can feel him even through the material of his black cargo pants, already hard for you. Without seeing it, you have an inkling of what you’re working with.

Younghoon’s always been tall, standing at six feet with broad shoulders. As long as you’ve known him, his height alone was enough to scare people away, despite the fact that he had the personality of a hyperactive puppy. But now, his body looming over yours and his touch all over your skin, you can’t help but feel turned on by his size alone.

“Can I finger you?” He asks suddenly, slowly pushing up your sweatshirt so he can expose your cute panties. You nod frantically, biting the hem of your top to keep it out his way as he pushes your underwear down your legs with one hand. “Wanna prep you as best as I can, baby.”

He smiles at you again, and in spite of being in such a compromising situation, he looks so stunning. You remember the reason why you’ve had a crush on him this long, because aside from his beauty, he was also doting and caring, willing to go above and beyond for those near and dear to him.

You squirm a bit beneath him when his middle finger glides through your folds with ease, you slick providing enough lubricant for him. He all but groans, inserting the digit into your entrance. Your moans are muffled by your sweatshirt in your mouth, his long finger so deep inside of you it brushes that one spongy spot you could never reach yourself.

Younghoon uses his thumb to circle your clit as his finger thrusts in and out of you, kissing along your jaw. He glances down and moans at the sight of your tits jostling around with each pump of his finger. He lowers his head to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

There’s so much going on, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his finger curls and his teeth scrape the swell of your breast. If his slender middle finger wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, then the sound of him being so vocal was, vibrations spreading on the surface of your skin. Younghoon adds the slightest amount of pressure to your clit when he sinks his pearly whites into your collarbone, coaxing your orgasm.

He swallows your whines, waiting until you’ve stopped spasming under him to slow his assault. He pulls his hoodie over his head, helping you remove your sweatshirt afterward. Your chest heaves, watching with heavy eyelids as Younghoon scoots himself further down the couch. He brings himself eye level with your cunt, experimentally blowing air on your core. You shiver, biting the inside of your lip and running a hand through his hair.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he makes eye contact with you, pressing a sweet kiss to your clit. “Can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

Younghoon pushes your knees up to your chest, hands digging into the fat of the backs of your thighs. The position gives him better access to your glistening cunt. He licks a long line from your hole to your pelvic bone, flattening his tongue against you and repeating once more.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you mewl, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. “That feels so good.”

He hums, lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a harsh suck. That particular action rips a loud moan from your vocal cords. He doesn’t get any gentler, sliding both his middle and ring fingers into you as he continues making out with your pussy. Your head feels light and airy, your brain incapable of producing any coherent thoughts aside from how badly you need his cock inside of you. His thick fingers aren’t enough, you need more. You need him to fill you completely.

The pads of his fingers continuously brush along your velvety walls, inching you closer and closer to your tipping point. You aren’t sure you can last much longer, especially with the promise of having him fully following this. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he wound you up and knocked you over the ledge again, like he was already so familiar with what you needed.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, alternating between curling his fingers and straightening them. It’s as if he’s doing a come-hither motion. Your whines are uncontrollable at this point, tugging at his hair with every suckle of your engorged skin. The sting on his scalp has him moaning against your cunt, the resonance shooting through your whole body.

“Shit shit, I’m cumming— I’m—“

Your hips buck up towards his mouth, his skillful tongue and fingers still working your overstimulated pussy until you’re begging him to stop. Good God, you already finished twice and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet. You’re a panting mess beneath him when he parts with your lower lips, chin shiny with your release.

“You can give me one more, right?” Younghoon licks his lips to taste the remnants of your sweetness, wrapping them around his fingers to do the same thing. You let out a strained moan, nodding and connecting your mouths to kiss him roughly.

He laughs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. His eyes resemble crescent moons, crinkled at the sides. His duality gives you whiplash. How could someone so sexy be so adorable at the same time? It was beyond you.

He goes to unbutton his pants, kicking them along with his underwear off his legs as he leans down to kiss you again. You gasp when you’re finally given the opportunity to see his dick, hard and flushed for you. You reach down to stroke him, reveling in the hiss he makes when your thumb glides over his sensitive tip.

You guide him to your entrance, but he pauses. “Wait, I don’t have anything on me.”

“It’s okay, Hoon,” you place a comforting hand on his cheek. “I trust you. I’m clean, I’m assuming you’re clean, and I’m on birth control. I wanna feel you— all of you.”

His head falls to your shoulder once more with a groan, his cock prodding your hole almost instantaneously. You exhale through your nose heavily, the stretch burning so good that you’re raking your nails down his back. Even the feeling of his broad shoulders and back muscles beneath your fingertips sends you into a frenzy. He’s just so huge. You’d never wanted to be ruined by someone as much as you wanted to be ruined by him.

Younghoon coos when you start to whimper, slowly pushing himself all the way in to his pelvic bone. He massages the back of your thighs, still pushed to your chest, pulling out gently before ramming his entire length back in. He does this a few more times to ensure your cunt has adjusted to his size, but the thought of you wrapped so tightly and warmly around him is enough to make him bust without going through the motions fully.

Your sweet pussy is so inviting, sucking him in like a fucking aspirator. He risks a glance down to where his hips meet yours, moaning so uncharacteristically at the sight of you enveloping his cock, coating it with your previous release. You clench when the sound hits your ears, provoking one of your own.

His thrusts are calculated, dragging them out so they’re deep rather than shallow. Despite not pounding into your brutally, like you were used to with past partners, you think you like this better. You can feel all of him this way. Every vein, every pulse, every fucking graze along your insides— as if he was meant to be there.

“You’re taking me so— fuck— so well, baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse in the crook of your neck. “Don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“G-God, you’re s-so b-big,” you cry, sinking your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I feel so— oh my god— feel so full.”

You look so pretty underneath him, he doesn’t even care that he might go to hell for fucking you. He’d let Hyunjae murder him any day of the week if it guaranteed his spot above you, cock buried to the goddamn hilt. He places his forearm behind your knees, pressing your legs flat and practically folding you in half so he can speed up his tempo.

Younghoon throttles into you at a near animalistic pace, skin slapping on skin echoing throughout your apartment. You’re fucked stupid, noises that you can’t comprehend leaving your mouth to punctuate every single drive of his dick in your cunt and eyes fluttering shut. His tip kisses at that one spot that scratches your itch each time.

One particular gyration of his hips snaps that cord in your stomach and you’re cumming a third time, jaw going slack as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. You produce no sound, the wave of your release cresting like a jolt of euphoria to your head, Younghoon following suit. However, his reaction is the opposite, so cacophonous and pornographic that it prolongs the twitching of your velvet-like walls, milking him dry of everything he can offer.

As both of you come down from your peaks, oxygen recirculating in your brains, Younghoon sighs and slips out of you. You wince, still so very sensitive from all three of your orgasms and how aggressively he was hitting it those last few minutes. You watch with choked groans as a combination of your cum flows out of your cunt onto the sofa.

Hyunjae was going to lose his mind.

“Shit, we gotta clean this up,” you panic, finally sobering up and moving into a sitting position. “I’d prefer to live long enough to tell you how much I like you.”

“Woah, wait,” his eyes widen animatedly. “Y-You like me?”

You gape at him, confused how after everything you just did together, he would think you didn't have feelings for him. “I just let you fuck me on the couch I share with my brother and Jacob. Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”

“I dunno. Maybe you were just really horny?” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck shyly, like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six ways to Sunday. You get on your knees, capturing his lips in a soft kiss that portrays all the words you could’ve ever wanted to say and more.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask, pecking them once again. “I like you so much, Younghoon. I have since, like, my freshman year of uni.”

He smiles warmly, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. “That’s funny because I’ve liked you since then, too.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. “Okay, now get up so I can deep clean this fucking couch.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz younghoon #tbz younghoon #kim younghoon x reader #kim younghoon smut #younghoon x reader #younghoon smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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