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#Season's Greetings MORE LIKE SEASON'S BEATINGS
masquenoire · 1 year
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“Oh look, mistlefoe... you know what that means? Season’s Beatings.”
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mockerycrow · 6 months
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Lately I've been dying with stress induced migraines and was wondering if I could request the 141 or any character of your choosing to take care of the reader suffering from them??
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MIGRAINES (Ghost x GN!Reader)
ghost masterlist
[WARNINGS; medicine/drugs, inaccuracy of medicine stuff, inaccuracy of military, fluff, physical hurt/comfort, mention of overdosing, it’s implied you do not have regular sleeping problems.]
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You know a migraine is about to come on when you’re looking down at the paper in front of you—something about a past mission—and you can’t see the lower right corner of the paper. You blink harshly and rub your eyes, the blotch not leaving which leads you to believe it’s a migraine aura. A heavy feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, a weird sensation blooming in the nape of your neck. You put the paper down for a moment and rub your eyes—it’s only Tuesday and this will be your second migraine. 
You feel frustration ebb at your nerves as tears threaten to spill, causing you to let out a shuddery breath. You stand up from the office chair you’re sitting in, near your desk in your barracks. You decided that you should warn the Captain about your aura and that you would need some rest for the incoming day and maybe even tomorrow.
You can already feel the light sensitivity setting in. It doesn’t hurt just yet as you open your door and you’re forced to be under fluorescent lights, but you can tell your tolerance is lower than usual. You offer quiet greetings to those who you pass in the hall, making your way across base to the offices. You squint a bit more, the muscles surrounding your eyes tensing. You can’t help but wonder why they use such shitty lighting in an office space.
You stop in front of a door with a name plate labeled “CPT. JOHN PRICE”, and you knock on the door a couple of times. You hear his gruff voice, saying something along the lines of come in. You open the door and close it behind yourself, looking at Price who is looking up from his paperwork; probably surrounding the last mission like yours is, too. “I feel another migraine coming on, Captain. I came to ask for the day off.” 
Price’s eyes narrow for just a moment in concern. He knows your history with migraines, and how they’re usually induced by stress. “Alright, but you make sure to go see medical if it persists, yeah?” Price says with a lifting tone, but it’s not a question, it’s an order. You go to open your mouth, but Price beats you to it. “I know they can’t do much for you, but those painkiller cocktails are very much worth it.”
You close your eyes as a wave of nausea passes over you, causing you to freeze for a moment. The man in front of you utters your name which prompts your eyes to open back up. His eyes are scanning your face. eyebrows lifting ever so slightly to prompt an answer. You press your lips together and give him a nod; those cocktails are lifesavers, but they don’t last as long as you need them to. You’re thankful for his suggestion anyway. Price gives you a firm nod. “Hope to see you tomorrow feeling better, sergeant.”
“Thank you, Captain.” You reply before leaving his office, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stave off that beginning twinge of pain beginning in the base of your skull.
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Something was off—Ghost could feel it in his bones. When you don’t show up for morning PT, he knows something is off, especially when for the second time in a few days, Price hands him a signed off medical emergency paper from you. It contained no details, nothing other than “1 day medical absence” signed by Price himself. It left Ghost feeling uneasy; you are not the type to do this type of thing, even when you had the seasonal flu, it was like the entire 141 had to lecture you to slow down, or maybe even rest a bit.
Ghost half expects you to show up anyway, but just like a few days ago, you are nowhere to be found. Ghost finds some free time a bit after 1500, so he makes his way towards medical. Perhaps you were physically injured? He steps into the infirmary and is met with a few pairs of eyes, a couple of them shocked to see him. “Lieutenant! How can we help you?” A medic at a cart parked against the wall asks, quickly packing up something he was doing. Ghost utters your name, glancing around. “Are they here?” He grunts.
“No, sir,” The medic replies. “They did stop by for some treatment, though.” Ghost’s eyebrows furrow for a moment; treatment? Treatment for what? Ghost doesn’t bother to ask, knowing the medics wouldn’t likely tell him anyway, so he murmurs a shirt thank you before leaving the infirmary. He racked his brain—what possibly could keep you out of commission willingly when not even a GSW would? Ghost then decides right then that he will head for your barracks.
He makes his way across base, going from the infirmary unit all the way across to the on-base barracks. Gears are turning in his head as he tries to not jump to conclusions—is there a physical injury he’s not being told about?—and Ghost is failing. You’re one of the couple of folks who don’t have a roommate, so he knocks with a purpose as there isn’t anyone else to worry about bothering. He waits for a few moments and is greeted with silence, so he knocks again with a loud and deep, “Sergeant?”
Ghost is met with silence again, which doesn’t soothe his nerves. He tries the doorknob and to his surprise—and concern—it works. Ghost slowly opens the door to find your room in complete darkness, the only light being the one from the hall which is illuminating your bed. He sees you hunched over in your bed, wrapped in your blankets with your face half buried into your pillow. Near your bed is a TV tray stand with two plastic bowls with separate washcloths hanging off of the side of the bowls. There’s an orange medicine bottle and a small white medicine bottle next to a half empty water bottle and another full unopened bottle.
Ghost closes the door behind himself as he walks over to you, narrowly avoiding the TV tray stand. He peels back the velcro of one of his gloves before removing it, pressing the back of his hand to the part of your forehead that is exposed. Your temperature feels fine at first so he turns his hand over and presses his wrist to the small part of your forehead and he receives the same result. Ghost blinks for a moment, noting that you have no fever. Immense relief floods over him; he’s not exactly sure why.
He calls your name and puts a hand on your arm, shaking you ever so slightly. You don’t move a muscle, but you’re breathing just fine. Ghost looks over at the bottles of medicine and leans over, grabbing both of them. He reads “Zaleplon” and “Rizatriptan”. With a quick google search on his phone, he finds out they are both prescribed medications, which makes his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You have prescribed medications? For sleeping and migraines? You’ve never mentioned this before.
Ghost puts them back down on the TV tray stand and he shakes your shoulder a bit more forcefully as it seems you’re really asleep. He feels bad, knowing he should just let you rest, but he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten. He has no idea if you have only drunk that one bottle of water all day, if you have left to go to the bathroom—nothing. He calls your name louder which still does not harbor a response from you, making his gut tighten once again.
He knows it’s the anxiety talking, that you would be careful with medicine, careful enough to not take too much—but he can’t help but still worry. Ghost doesn’t know that maybe you forgot you took a sleeping pill before popping another, putting you in a deeper sleep. Your breathing seems fine, so you’re definitely not struggling in that department. Maybe you’re just sleeping heavier than usual?
But what if you did take more than needed? What if this is you in the middle of an overdose? You are indeed turned over, your face halfway smushed into the pillow. That’s enough to strike anxiety into Ghost’s soul so he grabs your shoulder and forcefully rolls you onto your back, a heavy relieved sigh leaving him when he doesn’t see any vomit or excess saliva on your pillow or hoodie. Your skin is its usual color, as well as your lips. Ghost’s fingers grab your wrist to feel your pulse, counting the beats. Your heart rate is fine.
So why are you not waking up? And why is he so anxious about it?
Ghost calls your name even louder and his shoulders relax when he hears a quiet groan leave your lips. Your closed eyelids squeeze together for a moment before an expression of pain floods your face, causing Ghost to press his lips together underneath his balaclava. “There ya are,” Ghost murmurs, putting a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and they land on Ghost after a moment. “Ghost,” You breathe out, pain lacing your tone.
The room is dark so you’re both struggling to see each other, but Ghost doesn’t mind. If it helps your head, he will gladly squint. “Have ya eaten?” He grunts out, his voice rumbling and low in his chest. You let out a tired breath and rub your eyes, taking a moment to answer. “What time is it?” You croak, your hands moving from your eyes to your temples. Ghost pulls out his phone, it being too dark to look at his watch. “1321.” He replies, making you inhale sharply and let out a groan. “Shit, didn’t mean to sleep that long.” You slur ever so slightly.
“Did’ja miss a dose?” Ghost questions, and you let out a quiet “mhm”. You hear Ghost reach over to the TV tray stand, but you can’t tell what he’s doing. You hear one of the medicine bottles pop open. His hand finds yours and gives you a pill, and then you hear the water bottle crinkle. “Up.” He orders, and you comply, sitting up just enough to take the medicine. You wince at the change in angle so easily irritates your pounding skull, but you appreciate the soothing water running down your throat. Ghost caps the water bottle and puts it back. You hear water sloshing around and one of the washcloths being wrung out, and you flinch ever so slightly when you feel a cold washcloth being tucked underneath your head and against the nape of your neck.
“When did you start ‘aving migraines?” Ghost asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s clear he’s confused on why he was never let known. He’s also your superior next to Price, looked over the necessary files. You let your eyes shut, focusing on the cold feeling seeping underneath your skin. You appreciate the man keeping his voice down. “Always had ‘em, but they’re stress induced. They aren't constant.” You reply, your voice also remaining low, barely disturbing the silence of your room. “Had one a day or two ago, guess that shit never left.” You joke, earning a huff from Ghost. “Y’didn’t answer my question. When’s the last time you have eaten?” Ghost inquires, making you let out a sigh. “Mm, maybe 4 or 5 hours ago,” You hum. “I should go grab something soon, helps the medicine kick in faster.”
Ghost shakes his head even though you can barely tell. “No need, I’ll grab it. Are you experiencing nausea?” Ghost stands up from the bed, the mattress leveling out. “A bit, yeah. Could you grab something light on the stomach?” You request, your fingers grabbing your blanket as a warm fuzzy feeling in your gut begins to distract you from the pounding in your temples. “‘Course.” And with that, Ghost leaves you with your thoughts for the time being. You don’t understand why he’s being so nice and generous—it’s not like Ghost is not nice, but he’s usually more teasing and serious about getting shit done. 
To be fair, the last time you got injured, he also took care of you. You had earned a nasty brush with death after being too close to a large explosion. You had been thrown back into a wall, crashing through the other side, earning you a broken shoulder and a piece of wood through the major artery in your thigh—as well as the classic severe concussion, of course. This happened about a year ago and when your shoulder aches, Ghost somehow knows and offers to rub cream into it. It’s similar to Soap’s knee pain, so he knows what to do. Countless nights over a year of rubbing cream into the part of your shoulder that you can’t reach, the words left unspoken between you two? 
Ghost returns with a light meal for you as well as a cup of ice water, knowing it’ll help you more than your room temperature water bottles. Something about Ghost being so domestic over this past year up to now, taking care of you and bringing you food, rubbing cream into your shoulder when needed, when he took you to those temporary physical therapy appointments for your shoulder? Something snapped inside of you and you could never look at him in the same friendly way and by the way he looks and speaks to you, it seems to be the same for him.
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victoria-grimesss · 8 months
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Call the Doctor, I'm in Love
masterlist
->Paring: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Medic!Fem!Reader
->Words: 2.9k
->Warning: fluff & angst, mentions of injury/wounds
->Summary: Soap has a big ol crush on you, he’s not sneaky or quiet about it. Here are the many times he’s fantasized about you and the one time you answered his dreams.
->A/N: a little something because I love Foap!
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Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish is a pretty guy, a hunk if you will and he knows it. He has no troubles with the ladies and is highly experienced but he always feels like he’s lacking something, someone. Until you came along, pretty new medic. You’re his favorite. He always goes to you for a patch up even waiting for medical help until you come back from break. Johnny is a saint, he is a patient and giving man. 
But he wants you, desperately. He’s got a big fat crush and he’s not quiet about it. The 141 is exhausted hearing about what you did today and that Soap thinks you looked dreamy today, stitching up his arm. He saw you look at him a little extra that means you want to be with him right? They can’t wait until you either reject the poor fool or take him on a bloody date. Here are the times poor Mactavish has swooned over you:
The 1st Time: Your Introduction
Soap has found himself head over heels for you. He first saw you in the medical tent after him and an enemy went headfirst over a steep rockwall, he was fine of course, seems like that guy can bounce back from anything, you had nursed him back to health and he was done for. Your caring words and gentle hands were all he wanted now. And imagine his surprise and excitement when you became the team's new task-force medic.
“Alright team I hope you read over the file, we got a new member to our team. She's going to be our medic but don’t worry she can hold our own on the field. She’s reliable and damn good at her job. We’ve had too many close calls lately and I don’t want anyone dying of something that could have been prevented.”
Price ends his introduction and you greet your way around the room, everyone is nice enough for tuff military men. You find yourself sitting next to John, or Soap, or sometimes Johnny depending on who you ask. He’s a good looking guy, as are the rest in the room but you have a job to do so you don’t plan on messing up your place on the team by intermingling with one of them.
“Aye lass, do you carry one of those stethoscope things around with ya?”
He’s leaning on one arm, checking out the equipment you had brought with you.
“I usually keep it in the office, why is something wrong?”
You’re looking him over for anything obvious but nothing sounds any alarm.
“Ah no, it’s just my heart… it’s acting funny, beats a little faster when you come around.”
He’s smiling and you laugh not expecting a bad pick-up line but seems like he’s that kind of guy.
“I see. Well might want to try working on your cardio then that’ll improve that heart rate of yours.”
He pauses, thinking of what to say next to lure you in.
“You like bars doctor?”
“Not particularly..”
“Would ya mind joining me, I hate drinking alone.”
You smile, amused.
“Why not one of the other boys, someone you’re more familiar with.”
You’re looking into your bag and he drops his head lower so you’ll look him in the eyes.
“I’d like to be more familiar with you bonnie.”
You stop and put your hands on your hips pretending to think.
“Well I’m not so interesting, just a doctor after all. I’m sure Gaz would love to join you, you two seem the best of friends.”
He seems a little discouraged when you don’t play into his game but he looks at the small smile that plays on your lips and knows he’s just gotta keep trying. You won’t shake him off that easily.
The 2nd Time: The Flu Incident
Flu season. Your favorite time of the year, your inner monologue drips with sarcasm as you scrub your hands raw for the sixth time today. It’s late afternoon and the sun dips over the horizon as the rooms are casted with a honey soaked orange glow. The murmurs from the outside hallway peak your interest and you dry your hands and exit to the hall.
“I told you MacTavish I can help you just as easily as any other nurse or doctor, just come into my office and we’ll get you fixed up.” 
An older more seasoned nurse has her hands on her hips, gaze pointed at Soap with a motherly disapproved look at her face. You step out of the room tossing the paper towel into the bin.
“Troubled patient?” 
Soap lifts his head at your voice and he smiles, voice nasally and strained.
“Ah there ya are bonnie, been waiting for you. Think you can fix me?” 
“You’d be in better hands with her you know? Unlike me she knows what she’s doing.” 
Your tone is playful and Johnny stands weakly, hand on the wall.
“Yea but you’re my favorite, can’t feel better unless it’s you.”
The other nurse is called away shooting you a good luck look with her eyes, no doubt happy to not have to deal with the sickly man.
“Alright Johnny whatever you say. Let’s get you to a bed.”
“You’re a real saint hen.”
You place a steady hand on his back leading him to the bed in your office, away from the overflow so he can hopefully get some rest.
“Alright Johnny go ahead and lay down I’ll get your temp and let’s see if we can break that fever alright?”
He groans as he lays down obviously dealing with joint pain from the flu, it’s a nasty one that’s hit the base this time.
You run a washcloth under cool water, grab your thermometer, and sit next to him making sure he’s comfortable. You take his temp and frown, 
“Give it to me straight doctor, am I going to make it?”
He grips your hand dramatically and you laugh while patting his hand.
“I think you’ll just scrape by, it’ll be close though.”
“Oh thank heavens. Guess you’ll just have to take extra close care of me right?”
He’s giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes again as you place the washcloth on his forehead and place the back of your hand on his cheek to feel the temp there as well.
“I guess since I’m part of your team now I’ll have to make sure you live, so yes. I will take extra good care of you.”
You smile at him softly, you don’t like seeing anyone sick but sick Soap reminds you of a kicked puppy.
You miss the way his eyes shine up at you as you chart his info. How the thoughts in his head are those of you and him on dates, what ring he will propose to you with, where you’ll honeymoon and various other daydreams he has swirling around. He would do anything for you to be his, he would capture the stars for you.
You get up from your chair to put his info into the computer and he looks at the sad flowers on the side table, shriveled and needing to be tossed.
“These flowers aren't lookin so good.”
You glance over and frown.
“Oh yeah, it’s been so busy lately I haven't had a chance to replace them yet.”
He hums and you walk back over to him and give him some painkillers and electrolyte drink mix.
“Take these and get some rest please, it’ll do you good.”
He sits up, eyes on you as he takes the pills, handing you the little cup back.
“I’ll get you some new flowers, take you out too.”
You’re facing away from him, a smile gracing your features.
“Johnny, I-”
“You don’t have to say yes now lass, just please, for the sake of my well-being think on it.”
You move over to him and dab the cloth onto his cheeks and cool down his pulse points, heart growing slightly as you reply.
“Sure Johnny, I’ll think about it. Now sleep, doctor's orders.”
He sleeps quietly next to you as you finish your charting. The sight of him so calm warms your heart and it scares you a little bit, you wouldn't want to throw off the balance of the team or make any weird power dynamics by falling for him but he makes it harder and harder. 
The next week fresh flowers are left on the side table.
The 3rd Time: Award Ceremony Ball
Dressed to the nines each of you are. A very successful mission rewarded the whole team with a variety of medals and everyone was looking very nice all cleaned up.
Your dress was a floor gown with a slip up the leg and your back was exposed, the dress felt so silky and it was nice to not be covered in blood for once. Although you did manage to spill some kind of fancy jam on it and you were frantically dabbing at it with water when you were interrupted with Soap meeting up with you.
“Well don’t you look nice.” 
He’s lively tonight, eyes bright with optimism after the job and sporting brand new chest candy to show off.
Your eyes drift up from the new stain on your dress to him and he, well he looks damn good. A new pink scar graces his jawline but it looks good on him, he can wear scars well.
“Thank you, you clean up well yourself too.”
“Ah bonnie don’t make me blush now.” 
The rest of the team is chatting at a nearby table, Price is nursing a short glass of something dark, Gaz is going to town on the amazing food, and Ghost is engaged in conversation with the two of them.
“You wanna head back to the table?”
You offer, he shakes his head and offers his hand.
“I ask the fine lady to a dance.”
You blush, never asked to dance before, the ballroom floor filled with experts, couples swirling to the melody in the air.
You stew on it for a moment, and put your hand in his.
“Ok but if I fall you fall with me okay?”
“Always.”
Your hands are intertwined, one of his is on your waist and yours is on his shoulder. You both try to copy what the others do and the messy dance combined with the flutes of champagne you both consumed makes for quite the site. The mess of bumping feet and unsteady movements.
“For a sergeant you’re rather uncoordinated MacTavish.” Your laugh is light.
“I didn’t go to fuckin dance school, certainly didn’t learn this in the marines that’s for sure. What, did they teach this in medical school?”
“Does it look like they did? I can stitch up a bullet wound but lord help me I can't dance for shit.”
You bump into him again and his grip tightens slightly.
“I got ya bonnie.”
He could be living in a dream right now, you in such a pretty dress adorned in your well deserved medals, him with his. You’re gripping his shoulder and he’s got you in his arms, he can smell your perfume and see the small hairs out of place as the two of you spin but he loves it all the same. He wants it all the same.
“Johnny. Can you hear me?”
He blinks harshly, really sinking back in. You’re not his right now, he can’t take you back to his place after this and kiss each part of you, unzip the dress and let his fingers graze over the skin that's revealed to him. Watch how you move under the moonlight as he touches you just as he imagined. Not yet.
“Yea?”
“I said I think Gaz just devoured his fourth bowl of that dip I wanted to try.”
“Must be good then, should we head over before he finishes it all?”
You laugh and agree.
“Thank you for the dance MacTavish, you made me feel less silly for not knowing what I’m doing.”
His eyes sparkle at your admiration.
“I’m always happy to help.”
The 4th Time: Yes
This mission could not have been more fucked up. Shrapnel flies and bullets whiz by. The air is cold but your body is so hot, on fire from the adrenaline. 
The coms are staticy and choppy but you can make out the team. 
An undercover mission with Soap had you outside a pretty nice villa at dusk. It was meant to pose as a couple on a retreat to gain intel from an organization nearby but all hell had broken loose. You're cornered and Soap had been down to three bullets and you at two until you were able to take down someone else and gain the upper hand.
Communication with the team was hard, they had sent for backup now you just had to wait.
And Soap is shot.
He has taken a bullet for you and you’re frantic. 
“Fuck Johnny, shit.”
He grimaces as you rip your bag off of your back to grab for first aid. It’s not enough though, you had to pack light and it’s not enough.
“Stupid ass job, told them to find a way to get more equipment.”
You’re more muttering to yourself, ripping things out of the small bag you were allotted to patch him up.
“You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”
Johnny laughs and it sends him into a coughing fit, the bullet is in his side. You pray it hasn't done permanent damage but the gravel in his cough scares the hell out of you.
“Hold on Johnny, I’m gonna get you fixed up alright, just stay still.”
A bullet nearly misses your head and he shoots back hitting the guy before clutching his side again.
“You think that’s all of them?”
“Fucking hope so, I need- I have to clean it.”
He’s strong, so strong and sweet and kind and nice and charming and you can’t lose him. 
Not when you know you want him now. That you need him now. 
“Gonna lift your shirt ok? Just watch your breathing.”
“Aye, not even going to take me to dinner first.”
Your eyes are blurry as tears slip down, first one the two.
He wipes them away, his blood smearing onto your face and you choke back a sob.
“C’mon bonnie, don't cry. I hate seeing you cry.”
His voice grows weaker the more he speaks and you beg him to stop, but he rambles. 
He talks about how each morning he wakes up to see if you’re up yet. He waits for you at the gym, always goes to you when he feels unwell, gushes to the rest of the team about you when you’re not around. 
He flirts openly with you and what a fool you’ve been to not reciprocate fully, to reel into him.
The needle breaks his skin and his eyes grow heavy, the blood is still flowing freely and you almost feel it rushing out of you as well.
“I’m so sorry Johnny.”
You stitch and wipe and repeat. It’s a gaping wound and it makes you sick seeing it on him. 
You’re so focused on stitching him you don’t notice when his eyes close. His breathing is shallower now. 
Your eyes race around his face, head now slumped to the side.
You wipe the wound, it’s not good but it should be ok. Heavy on should.
Your hand, coated in blood cups his cheek, shaking.
“Johnny?”
You move his head, it's heavy in your hands and your breathing hurts now.
You get closer, enough to press his forehead to yours and you inhale his smell. 
You hold cloth to his wound to try to stop the bleeding and you whisper promises to him if he will just pull through. 
Your lips are so close to his that when your tears roll down your face they roll off your nose onto his lips.
The hand that cups his cheek feels his pulse on his neck and it’s quiet and slow. It’s so silent here now.
“I’m so sorry Johnny. I love you. Fuck I love you so much I just didn’t want to mess anything up. Please don’t leave yet. 
You lips touch his softly, like if you pressed any harder he would shatter.
“Could have- could have told me all that before I was dying yea?”
He laughs weakly, his smile cracking the corner of his lips. You cup his face fully now, careful to remove your hand from the wound but you applied enough pressure by now the blood has coagulated some. 
“You mean all that?” His eyes are heavy but he still looks at you with that same shining he always did.
“Yes, god yes. I just didn't want to mess up the team dynamic but I don’t care anymore, you just have to pull through alright then let's go out.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Blades of the helicopter sound nearby cutting through the silence.
“Just hold on Johnny we’re gonna get you patched up. Then I want to see you in that suit again.”
“Anything for you bonnie.”
He recovered well with you by his side of course. You dressed his wound properly and gave him a kiss to make it heal faster he would say. Then two weeks later he showed up in a suit with flowers at your office door. The rest is history, but the team is much happier not listening to Soap’s rambling about you but they are happy nonetheless.
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number1mingyustan · 2 months
Text
- Cuffing Season-
His Distraction
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boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: established relationship, size kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex (they almost get caught), creampie, cum stuffing, teasing
Summary: You are his weakness, always and forever
Word Count: 2.4k
_______________________________________________
Your heels click with each step on the tile floors and resound through the office. You navigate the large space easily as you make your way through the familiar surroundings. You already know your destination and exactly how to get there, to Mingyu’s office.
Familiar faces greet you as you walk around, small waves and acknowledging smiles. You greet them all back before you find yourself standing in front of his secretary’s desk.
“Hi Paige,” You smile. “Is he in?”
Paige smiles back at you. “Hi Y/n, yes he is. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Oh there’s no need, I’ll just make my way in.” You grin.
“Okay! Have a nice afternoon Y/n.” She replies.
“You too Paige!” You wave as you walk up to Mingyu’s office.
You knock on the wooden door eagerly. You hear a muffled ‘Come in, it’s open!’ in response. You open the door, seeing your handsome boyfriend sitting at his desk.
He looks up at you and his eyes light up immediately. “Hey baby.”
He stands up as you make your way over to him. You kick the door closed with your foot and he pulls you into a hug.
His embrace is warm and comforting, as always. He holds you close to him and presses a quick kiss on your lips.
“What are you doing here?” He questions.
Disappointment floods your veins. You pull away from the hug slightly and look up at him with a slight frown. “We have plans… for lunch. The new Italian place on Fourth.”
“Ah shit,” he mentally face palms himself. “I’m sorry baby…. I completely forgot. I have a huge meeting in 30 minutes that I really can’t miss.”
“But Gyu…” you pout.
“I know baby, I’m sorry.” He leans his back against his desk and pulls you in closer. He draws small circles on your lower back. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“They handmake their breadsticks babe. I was really looking forward to it.” You frown.
“We can always order in from Olive Garden.” He shrugs.
“Olive Garden isn’t real Italian food Gyu. And their breadsticks are just frozen and reheated.” You roll your eyes.
He pulls you in closer, wedging your body between his thighs. “And their breadsticks are still good, love. I spoil you too much.”
You pout and lean your head into his chest. “You know it’s not about the breadsticks Gyu.”
He strokes the top of your hair softly. “Yeah I know… I’m really sorry. I’ll cancel my whole day on Thursday and take you out. Thursday is a light day for me, so I can afford to miss it.”
You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “You’d really do that for me?”
He nods and pushes your hair out your face while looking down at you. He smiles sweetly. “Of course.”
He presses a kiss on your lips and moves his hands to your waist. "Thanks, Gyu." You smile.
"Anything for my girl," He beams.
You find yourself smiling like a schoolgirl. It's so difficult for you to contain your happiness around him.
"Can I stay until your meeting at least?" You ask.
He nods. "Of course, I have to do some more prep for it, though. I can't talk to you much."
" 'S okay, I just wanna be near you." You tell him honestly.
He pulls you in closer to him with gentle hands and places a soft kiss on your lips. "You're the best, you know that?"
You grin and shrug. "You've told me once or twice."
Your faces remain close and your eyes remain locked. There's a twinkle in his eyes as he stares at you. He can feel his heart beating outside his chest.
It's beating rapidly, and he fears you might be able to hear it. Even after all these years together you still have that schoolboy effect on him.
You brush his hair back with your small hand gently and lean in. You close the gap between your faces and kiss him lightly. It starts off slow, lips moving against one another gently and sweetly.
But Mingyu can't help himself.
He pulls you onto his lap slowly. He feels the weight of his office chair push lower to the ground.
The kiss grows heated as you make yourself comfortable on his lap. Your hand cups his cheek and his tongue slips into your mouth. You can feel the desire burning in your chest.
Your hands begin to wander, trailing from his chest down to his V-line. It's not until you grab at his belt that he comes back into his senses.
"No," He pulls away.
You have a lustful look clouding your eyes as you lick your lips slowly, reminiscing in the taste of him on your tongue.
"I haven't even done anything!" You giggle.
"And we're keeping it that way. My meeting is in like 20 minutes." He lifts you off of his lap.
"You know we could be done in 5," you smirk. "But fine, your loss." You shrug.
He shoots you a glare, adjusting his pants yo hide the semi he’s sprouting
You sit down on the couch he has in front of his desk. with a smirk painted on your face.
"It's so hot in here," You say. You allow your coat to fall off your shoulders, fully exposing the dress you have on underneath.
It's one of his favorites. He bought it for you on Valentine's day last year and it's been a while since you've last worn it. You can hear him inhale sharply in an attempt to keep his composure.
He looks down at the papers on his desk to avoid looking at you. That simply won't do.
You reach into your purse and pull out your handheld mirror and your lip gloss. You stare at yourself, applying the gloss to your lips. The second Mingyu heard you rustling in your purse, his attention was on you again.
His pants felt a little tighter and his heart was beating faster. He couldn't tear his eyes off of you. What you were doing was so simple, yet so effective.
Once satisfied, you rubbed your lips together and closed the little mirror. You shift your eyes toward him and smile sweetly.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do what?" you feign innocence.
"Don't distract me."
"I'm not trying to distract you," You lie. "You're the one that got all handsy and messed up my lipgloss. You're the only one to blame here."
He exhales shakily and submerges himself back in his work.
A soft thump on the carpet takes his attention away again. Your lipgloss lay right next to his desk despite you being seated on the other side of the room.
"Can you get that for me, love?" You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. "I dropped it."
"No," he grumbles. "I'm working and you're very capable of picking it up yourself."
"Fine."
You stand up, walking over to where your lipgloss landed and bend over slowly. It gives Mingyu the perfect view of your ass, and you know he's looking.
While he may look it, Mingyu is not the strongest soldier.
"Fuck it."
He tosses his suit jacket to the side and clears off his desk.
You squeal excitedly when he grabs you and bends you over his desk. He hikes your dress up with ease and stares down at you with hungry eyes. He pulls your panties down to your ankles and begins rubbing quick circles on your clit.
You let out a soft moan from the relieving pleasure.
With his free hand, he tosses his tie and begins undoing the buttons of his shirt. He tosses it onto his chair and unbuckled his pants. He allows his pants and underwear to fall to his ankles, all while your arousal coats his fingertips.
"Can't really prep you baby, you gonna be okay?" He asks.
You look back at him with a grin and nod. "You know I can take it."
It's all he needs to hear before he's lining himself up with your entrance and slipping his cock into you. You both moan in unison at the feel of his stretching you open.
He can feel the way you open up for him. It's something worth relishing in. The tightness, the warmth, the wetness. It's everything he needs right now.
Eyes closed, Mingyu is overwhelmed and completely enthralled by you. He tips his head back as his length reaches deep inside of you. His brain can't even fathom how well you're taking him right now with no prep.
"Oh fuck," he whispers.
"That good huh?" You grin. There's a tease in your voice that ignites a fire in him. You revel in his weakness. Something about having the larger man so weak for you has you soaking his cock and sucking him deeper into you.
His big hand finds its way to your neck, pressing your head down against the desk. It forces your upper body down and your lower body up, giving him a better angle to fuck you in.
"Yeah baby," he nods even though you can't see him. "That fucking good."
He bites down on his bottom lip and draws his hips back. He begins thrusting into you, causing your ass to recoil with his every movement.
His balls slap against your butt with each thrust. The filthy sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room. He slips into you so easily, drowning in the way your arousal coats his length.
Your breathing grows heavy as you try to hold yourself back from moaning too loud. He fills you up so well, tip hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.
"Ah- Right there Gyu–fuck," You whimper.
"Can't be too loud baby," He groans. "Didn't lock that door."
Your eyes shift up to the door in front of you. You whine, and allow your head to fall in your arms on the desk. "Your cock feels so good."
His large frame continuously pushes against your backside. He loves fucking you at this angle. You're so much smaller than him, and he can clearly see the way his cock disappears into you with each thrust.
The sudden knock on the door causes both of your hearts to drop.
"Stay quiet," He demands. "You've already caused enough trouble."
He's quick to slap his large palm over your mouth and muffle your moans. His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady below him.
"Mr.Kim." Paige says from the other side of the door.
"Y-Yeah?" he responds.
"Just a 10 minute head's up on your meeting! I know I sent it to your calendar but Y/n came by and I wanted to make sure you didn't forget."
Even now, he can't find it in himself to stop. He's still fucking his cock into you with his assistant speaking to him on the other side of the door. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head. His thrusts have slowed down but increased in force.
You let a moan slip that causes his hand the press down on your mouth harder. Out of anger, he thrusts into you even harder, knocking your body into the desk beneath you.
"Is everything okay Mr.Kim?" she asks.
"Yeah. Reviewing the n-notes for the meeting right now."
"Okay, well the board room is all set up and I'm about to fax the last document to you as well."
"Fuck," he groans softly.
He cannot cum right now. Not with his assistant standing right outside the door. But you're moments away from an orgasm and the way you're gripping him is making it increasingly difficult to hold back.
"T-Thanks Paige." He manages to get out.
"You're welcome Mr.Kim," she responds from the other side of the door.
Mingyu can't even hear a footstep before your legs start shaking and he has to press the palm of his hand harder down on your mouth. You grip the desk tightly and your eyes roll further back into your head.
Your cunt is throbbing around him and he can feel himself losing it. Your pussy hugs him, squeezing just enough that small spurts of cum shoot right from his tip.
"Shit.." he groans.
His hips lose rhythm and his thrusts grow sloppy. He pumps his full load into you as his grip on your hip tightens. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction when you feel him fill you up.
His cock throbs as he releases into you. He leans his chest over, meeting your back. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder before standing to his full stature and pulling out of you.
You whine at the loss of contact, but he quickly plugs you back up with his fingers. He pushes his cum into you, refusing to let any of it drip out before he pulls your panties back up for you.
You stand back up with shaky legs and turn around to face him. You look up at him with a fucked out expression that makes his cock twitch.
He nudges your face back playfully while grinning. "Fuck, you've ruined me."
You fix your dress. "It's not my fault you get distracted easily.
He begins redressing himself and you hand him his suit jacket. "It is when you're the one distracting me."
You grab his tie, raising yourself up onto your tippy toes and redoing it for the taller man. You sit down on the desk and pull his tie so he's at eye level with you.
"Don't worry, you're gonna kill it in this meeting." You grin.
He doesn't break eye contact with you.
"I was only distracting you cuz I know you're prepared. You'll be fine baby." You lean in. "Hear me?"
He nods. "Thank you."
You press your final kiss on his lips and stand back on your feet. You adjust your dress one last time and put your coat back on. "I'm heading back home, you'll be fine babe." You assure him.
"Yeah," he agrees with you.
He grins, opening the door for you to exit. He can't help himself, smacking your butt as you make your way out. You look back at him with a shocked expression on your face.
"Mingyu!" You whisper-yell.
He shoots you a cheesy smirk. "I'll see you at home."
_______________________________________________
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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harlowhockeystick · 3 months
Text
LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY
y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?
coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader
warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift
word count: 4,244
a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write
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The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name. 
Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either. 
But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity? 
Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though. 
-
The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car. 
“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights. 
“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away. 
“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early. 
Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son. 
“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”
They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby. 
She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her. 
“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day. 
“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs. 
“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this. 
“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.
“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members. 
“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her. 
“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”
He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like. 
“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?” 
His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it. 
He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision. 
“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.” 
Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind. 
-
She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well. 
The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore. 
“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?” 
“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.
Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good. 
They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while. 
“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?
“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?” 
Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud. 
And he did. 
He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away. 
There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while. 
Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right. 
She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt. 
He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.
“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her. 
“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings. 
“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on. 
“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less. 
“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?” 
“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.
It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps. 
He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”
She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock. 
He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot. 
Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”
She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.” 
With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time. 
Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her. 
Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it. 
Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted. 
The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more. 
He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two. 
She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers. 
“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.
“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach. 
“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”
-
She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can. 
She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began. 
He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast. 
God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too. 
But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?
Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.
It might be worth it for once, she thinks. 
feedback | masterlist | au tag
tagging mutuals to boost, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged! @fallinallincurls @nylwnder @bitchinbarzal @ilyasorokinn @leafsbabe @twinklelilstarkey @raysofcrosby @lcandothisallday
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vicocaaisha · 27 days
Text
All Mine
Baek Harin x Reader Fic.
Sypnosis: Having friends is not your top priority; therefore, you kept rejecting Harin's advances. Not until she got jealous when you found yourself a new friend.
Warnings: SMUT, mature scenes, choking, virgin!reader, possesive!Harin, bottom!reader, top!harin, stalking, read at your own risk!
Requested by: @imurcherie1
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“Y/N-ah, do you want to hang out later after school?”
“Harin wants us to eat later together at lunch, can you sit with us?”
“Can you join our group for the school project? We can do it after school!”
“Hey, Y/N, can you teach me how to play chess? Help me beat Harin!”
Typical Wooyi, always asking you for help. You think it’s just an excuse to make you hang out or spend time together with Harin, which for you is a waste of time because you have other things you want to do than doing friendly stuff that you’re not interested in.
“Sorry, unnie. I have other things to do! Maybe next time.” is the response you always answer to Wooyi.
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You sometimes wish that you are in the lower grade, like in grade C so that no one won’t bother you and leave you alone. Being family friends with Harin means you’re also powerful inside your classroom, that’s why your classmates are always clinging to your side because they think that you’ll favour them or something.
But you didn’t care. All you care about is your studies, not the recognitions but the information you learn. Such a nerd thing to say but deep inside you really love studying, learning so many topics fascinates you.
You are smarter than Doah, but you don’t even participate in school competitions. You’re just focused on gaining skills.
“You look pretty having your hair up in a bun, Y/N” Harin greeted you.
“Yes, you do! Can you teach me how to do that later at lunch, please, Y/N.” Wooyi practically begged.
Here we go again, Harin’s group always bothers you to join them during lunch. You don’t have an interest in being friends with them even though your families are good friends. You’re just not that fond of being friends with someone, you like being alone more. Plus, Wooyi enjoys to torture your classmate, which is like a redflag to you because how can you enjoy on tormenting someone?
“I’m sorry, guys. I actually have a thesis report that I’m finishing. You know, I make money doing these things for other students.” You replied.
Harin only scoffed and started to walk away from you. She knows that you’ll just reject their invitation to hang out with them. Harin can’t do anything about it. She can’t blackmail you into being friends with her because there’s nothing hideous about you or even a secret.
Harin could only stare at you from afar. She likes you– no–, she wants you to be hers.
She’s so glad that you being preoccupied with your hobbies means you’re less aware of what's happening in your surroundings. Harin could easily stalk you and you won’t even notice that some of your things from your room are missing.
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“I read somewhere that the new season of Jujutsu Kaisen is airing next week.” Jaeun said as she sat beside you.
How did she find you? You’re sitting under a tree that’s far away from your classroom’s building.
“How do you even know I watch that?” You scoffed as you read your book. Does she need something? She’s usually on her own or with Suji. What does she want now?
“Oh, you don’t? I was actually giving this Geto plushie for free.” Jaeun waved the plushie doll on your face.
“Oh my! He’s my favourite!” You were shocked, you can’t find any Jujutsu Kaisen merchandise here in South Korea, and Geto is your favourite, “Can I have it, please? Where’d you get this?” you asked as you grabbed the plushie.
“Oh, umm…” Jauen was stammering. She didn't know how to handle this kind of situation. She’s scared that she might fuck it up after having your attention.
“He’s so cute! What do you want in return, can I please have him?” You begged her. This is the first time that your classmate sees that you’re capable of showing feelings, too.
“O-of course, uhh… I just want to be friends with you, can you join me during lunch?” You were too happy from the plushie you received that you accepted her offer without thinking about it.
And that’s how you ended up being with Jaeun. She always follows you around and you were too happy that one of your classmates watches your favourite anime. When you’re with her, you are too talkative about your favourite anime, Jauen doesn’t care though; she’s satisfied that she finally is on your good side.
Harin noticed that you finally are friends with someone, and that someone is the person who she despised the most. She was angry, she wanted to harm Jaeun but it’s impossible because of Suji always rescues Jaeun whenever she corners the tall girl.
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Jaeun introduced you to Suji and Se-eun. You were awkward when you met them, you don’t really like social gatherings; you can only handle one person at a time.
So here you are, on the rooftop with them. Suji introduced you to their plan once they figured that you’re trusty enough. You rejected their proposal though.
“Sorry, Suji. I don’t have an interest in being a hero here. I know, call me selfish or whatever. Do you know who you’re provoking?” You asked them genuinely.
Suji still tried to convince you. You just rejected it again and excused yourself. Do they know what they’re doing? Are they high? Harin is so dangerous. Even if you want to end this game yourself, deep inside you still value Harin.
You’ve known Harin ever since the both of you were younger. You secretly had a crush on her, when you saw her performing a dance. You were in a trance, you befriended her. You thought at first you wanted to be just like her but as your friendship progresses, your feelings also progresses. You tried to ignore it but can’t help it.
Although, as the both of you were growing older, she started to change. Sometimes you think that she turned into a monster but still, you cared for her so much even if you don’t show it.
You wanted to be away from her because you realized being in love with a girl is rather unusual. You’re scared that she might notice that you’re in love with her and betray you. Harin is unpredictable, you’ve seen it yourself.
“Y/N!” Wooyi runs into you as she sees you walking down the corridor.
“Wooyi, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now. My head aches so badly.” You tried to make an excuse before she could ask another invitation to hang out with them.
You tried to walk faster, “The chairman wants to talk to you right now, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Wooyi said as she tried to catch up with your fast pace.
“What? She could have texted me beforehand. She has my number, ugh. I don’t even look presentable right now.” You mumbled to yourself, Wooyi seemed to hear that.
“Oh, don’t humble yourself. You’re always pretty! You should spray some perfume, bet she’ll go crazy over you!” Wooyi said, which she regretted saying afterwards because it confused you. The chairman going crazy over your perfume?
“Oh, I’ll head to the classroom now. Gotta find them bootlickers!” Wooyi suddenly parted ways, you didn’t even get the chance to ask what she was talking about.
You sighed. Usually if the chairman, Harin’s mother, wants to meet you, she’ll schedule a meeting or she’ll text you and your parents about it. Also, you never had a meeting inside the school because she said once that it feels unprofessional meeting inside the school. What could be the problem now?
You are now in front of the chairman’s office, spraying perfume over your uniform. You took a big breath before opening the door, you were nervous that you might be in trouble, especially after hearing Suji’s crazy plan.
“Hello, Mrs. Baek. I’m sorry if I took too long, I was at the–” you stopped what you were trying to say when Harin revealed herself by turning around her chair.
“Uhm… Where’s your mother, Harin? She asked for me, didn’t she?” You tried to ask to make the awkward atmosphere out of the room.
“That would be for another time, Y/N-ah.” Harin said and stood up from her chair; walking towards you.
“You’re smoking again, I told you that’s not good for you.” You tried to lecture Harin. You are now currently in the middle of the room.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Harin said as she took another puff of her cig and she continued walking after passing you. Where is she going?
“Okay then, I better get going now if your mother is not here.” You rolled your eyes.
You heard a click. Harin locked the door behind you, trapping you inside the chairman’s office.
You began to feel nervous, you haven’t been in a room alone with Harin for the longest time. You tried to avoid this kind of encounter because you can’t contain your feelings. When talking with Harin alone, you will start to stutter.
“I wanted you here.” Harin dropped her cigarette and stepped on it. She’s aware that you dislike the smell of cigarette.
“Ohh, can we make it faster, please?” You were trying your best not to stutter because she’ll sense that you’re nervous.
“Enjoying being friends with Jaeun?” Harin started to walk towards you, which made you walk backwards as well. You were like a prey in her eyes, anytime she might devour you.
Oh shit. You thought to yourself. You forgot that Jaeun and Harin had a history before, she talked to you about this before! How could you forget it! It’s because of that damn plushie, you got too excited over that.
“H-harin, I’m so sorry. I forgot, I’m really sorry. It’s because she gave me the plushie, I got too distracted over that. I don’t mean to offend you, I swear–” You stopped your rumbling when your back hit the table. She got you very cornered this time.
You didn’t have the space anymore to move back and she still is walking forward slowly as if she’s stalking a prey. You’re very scared now, hell, you even are sweating too much for your liking. Note that this room is air conditioned.
Harin giggled to herself, “Y/N, why are you trembling so hard?”
She is now in front of you.
She tugged on your school necktie, which made you lean towards her. Since she is taller, you are looking up at her.
“Tell me, Y/N. Whom do you like to kiss?” She’s taunting you and all you could do is look at her doe eyes.
“Do you like Jaeun?” She asked you with a mischievous smile.
“I don’t like her, I don’t even have an i-interest to date a-anyone.” You stuttered, fuck you really are nervous.
“You’re lying, Y/N/N.” That nickname she used to call you when the both of you were younger.
“You’re stuttering, Y/N, it means you’re lying. Which one is it, hmm?” Her face is inches away from yours. Even if you haven't talked to her for years, she still knows your mannerisms.
Before you could even reply, she suddenly kissed you.
It felt passionate for a short time, not until she bit your lip that caused you to whimper and she immediately inserted her tongue. Did she practice with other girls before? How come is she so good with kissing? You felt jealous...
Your thoughts got cut off short when she stopped kissing you and started to undo your blouse.
“Harin, we s-shouldn’t be doing this.” She got tired of your mindless comments, so Harin pulled your necktie tighter that made you choke.
“Did I tell you to talk?” Harin only smiled when she saw you struggling. You were just gripping her clothes and whimpering because of the restriction of the air in your lungs.
Once she was satisfied, she stopped pulling your necktie and continued removing the articles of your clothes.
You were now left in your school blouse that is open, and your skirt; no bra nor panty. You suddenly felt insecure about your body when Harin was staring at your body up and down. Your first instinct was to cover up your body, but Harin beat you to it and held your wrists before you could even move them.
“H-harin” You can’t understand what’s happening between the two of you. Is she toying you?
“Stop talking, Y/N! God, you made me wait for so long, and then Jaeun easily caught your attention?!” Harin felt insatiable over you.
She then started kissing your neck, leaving marks all over your neck. You can’t even move and too scared to protest but deep inside you’re really liking this.
“You’re mine, Y/N/N.” Harin whispered, hunger laced on her voice.
“Hnng–, H-harin!” You yelped when you felt Harin’s long, slim fingers toy your clit.
Yes, you’ve touched yourself before but Harin massaging your clit felt so amazing. You can’t contain your moans anymore. You tried to shush yourself by putting your free arm on your mouth. Harin noticed this and…
She inserted two fingers, you aren’t ready for it, and it’s definitely your first time. It hurts like hell. You were struggling below her, and all you could do was to let out a shameless moan.
“A-hh, it hurts. It hurts, Ha-rin! Hnng!” She only removed your arms that were blocking your mouth and continued fingering you even if you're hurting.
Pain soon starts to feel pleasure soon enough. Harin is still putting hickeys on your chest area. She then started to look at your face, your fucked up face. Looking at you with adoration, you look so good even if you’re being fucked, Harin thought to herself.
“Baby, you look so good.” Harin whispered seductively, she couldn’t even explain how turned on she is right now. The stoic and nerdy, L/N Y/N, is being fucked out like this.
“You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want you seeing anybody but me, you get that?” Harin starts to get rougher on you, hitting that one spot makes you struggle to respond to her. Because of that, she slapped you, thinking to herself that it might knock you to your senses.
“Mhhmm– sorry! Ahh– Fuck!” was all you could blur out during that time.
Harin only chuckled as she pressed down her thumb to your clit. Fingering you and massaging your clit at the same time feels like you’re going to climax soon.
“I f–eel, ahh! Like I’m gonna p–EE!” You gripped onto her shirt more.
“Say you’re mine, Y/N, then you can let go.” Harin teased you. She then started to suck on your breasts, which added to your stimulation more.
“I’m y–yours! Harin–nng. I lov–e you for so long, Fuck!” You didn’t even realize that you accidentally confessed your love towards her because of the pleasure you are feeling. Harin felt over the moon when she heard your confession, which drove her even more very crazy and continued to get rougher on you.
As you trembled against her holds, you couldn't contain yourself anymore; you tried to let go of the pressure you were feeling, and instead, you squirted.
Harin continued to finger you until you rode out your high. You didn’t even realize the mess you created on her uniform because you were still trying to calm down. So many thoughts were running to your mind that time and one of those is that you just fucked your long time crush.
“Baby, are you okay?” Harin asked you with softness evident in her voice. She brushed your baby hairs out of your face with her dry hand. You look so exhausted, and your face is very flushed. You just nodded weakly, too tired to say anything.
You were laid against the table, and Harin decided to take you on the couch so that you could rest comfortably. You’re too tired to even care about your appearance at that time. You just let Harin help you wear your panty and your bra.
Maybe you could rest for a bit, so you decided to close your eyes.
“I love you.” Harin whispered as she was doing after care to you. She must have thought you were asleep.
“You do?”
“Yes, so much. I was trying so hard to reconnect our friendship again.” Harin kissed you passionately and with love this time.
“You’re wet?” You asked sheepishly as you felt her clothes.
“Oh, you squirted.” Harin smiled at you.
“What? No, I did not!” Harin laughed at your response. You’re still stubborn as you were before when both of you were younger. Harin only stared at you blankly. You can’t seem to read what her thoughts are, so you decided to break the awkward silence.
“So, is Mrs. Baek really asking for me?” You asked.
“No, it’s my last resort,” she confessed, “I can’t seem to get you all alone for myself, why are you avoiding me?” Harin asked you as she caressed your face.
You avoided her gaze, “It’s because… I’m scared that I have feelings for you, more than friends.”
There was silence again, when you looked up at her, she looked as if she were in a daze; lost in your beautiness. She was still caressing your face that time. You leaned up and kissed her with all the strength you had. The both of you kissed that you felt like it lasted for hours.
You stopped kissing her because it might lead the both of you to another round, and you still have classes to attend to.
You are fixing yourself, trying to look presentable after Harin fucked you out. Hickeys all over your neck, your hair is tangled mess, your clothes crumpled. Suddenly, Harin hugged you from your back, and you felt the wet spot on her clothes.
“Harin, go change your clothes. It’s disgusting!” You tried to wiggle out of her embrace and then laugh when she kissed your neck.
“It’s your fault, you peed on me!” Harin protested.
Let’s just say she never lived that day down when you squirted and always teased you that you peed on her.
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I've read your requests. Sorry if I didn't get to reply, but I'll be working on those soon!
I'll also go back to school tomorrow, so it might take me a while to post again. Sorry!
If you have any requests, dont hesitate to send them^^
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cottonconnielvr · 10 months
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if you are taking ideas/requests whenever you are can you write reader going to see plug!connie in jail and they talk on the phone and it’s just so cute and ughh
WARNINGS ✩ — (i don’t know how visitations work so bare with me), suggestive language, eh nothing just cute, connie is written as dominican
You follow the security guard into a cold concrete room. You’ve been here plenty of times before so you know exactly where you are going. You keep your face straight and mean mug every security guard who looks you up and down. You make sure to listen to Connie’s orders everytime.
“Make sure you look mean as fuck when you come up in here. You too pretty to be inna place like this”
You sit at the booth, waiting for Connie to come out. You were slightly chilly sitting at the cold metal. Your pink longsleeve shirt wasn’t enough to keep you warm. You brushed your palms on your true religion jeans. Connie always made you nervous no matter how long you’ve been around him.
You look up when you hear the door open, slight chatter in the background from other booths.
You see your gorgeous husband boyfriend, his arms covered in tats. He had on a short sleeve white tee, His jumpsuit resting around his waist.
You immediately break out into a smile as he sits down, grabbing the phone off the wall.
“Hi babyyy” Connie feels his heart beat faster as your sweet voice greets him. “Hey princess. You look so pretty.” His voice slightly cracked in the middle of his sentence. He wanted to touch you so so bad. But soon he’d be able to.
“Thank youuu. Do you like my nails? I got ur favorite color.” You hold your hand up to show him the pink charmed nails.
Connie shook his head and smiled. I’m pretty sure that’s you’re favorite color.”Yeah baby they look good.”
“How was your week?” Connie just wanted to hear you talk, hear your voice. In these moments you kept him sane. These little fifteen minutes highlighting his entire month.
“Ummm it was okay. I went over Mika’s for a bit and I actually meal prepped this whole week which surprised me because I never make it through the whole week,” You talked with your head down.
“Look at me I wanna see your pretty face” Connie demanded. You swallowed your nerves at looked him in the eye.
“What did you eat?”
“Just simple chicken and rice and then I just seasoned mixed vegetables. It was good though.”
Connie groaned and threw his head back, “Baby that would hit so good right nowww”
You laughed, “Don’t worry. When you come home i’ll cook you all of your favorite foods and you can eat it all by yourself”
“I think I just wanna eat one thing.” Your eyebrows furrow before you look at Connie’s expression, seeing him look at you with low eyes scanning your body up and down.
You gasped, covering your mouth, “Baby you’re so nastyyyyy”
“Girl y’know you want me to.” His teeth tug on his bottom lip before he smiles.
You fight the urge to scream, kick your feet, and giggle.
You roll your eyes playfully while smiling.
“You went shopping like I asked you too?” You nodded your head, “Mhmm. I got some more shoes and some random stuff from Bath and Body Works” Connie nodded his head. “That’s good”
“I checked up on your mom too like you asked me” You add.
“Good girl” His smooth voice rings through your ear. You always complied with him. You were such a one in a lifetime girl and he would kill just to not fuck it up. You were holding him down while he was locked up, he couldn’t ask for more. You made sure his business still resumed, running drops yourself even when Connie asks you not to. You just have Jean come with you to be safe.
“I miss you so much” You pout. “I miss you more princess. Just three more months ight?”
“Yeah” Your voice trailed off. You haven’t touched your boyfriend in over a year. You were touch and sex deprived but you would wait on Connie. Even if it took decades.
You were interrupted out of your thoughts when you heard the security guard from behind you.
“Time is up”
Connie laughed as he watched you look over your shoulder at the guard, rolling your eyes before flipping your hair over your shoulder. “I hate that big neck ass block head guard” You smacked your teeth.
“I love you so much princesa. You take care of yourself good kay ma?”
“Okayy. I love you more” You fight away that burning feeling in your throat, not wanting to leave your man but you had no choice.
You blew a kiss at Connie before following the guard.
Connie made sure to take a look at your ass, licking his lips. “No way her ass got fatter…”
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disneyprincemuke · 4 months
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"wanna hang out?" * ls2
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it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago
pairings: logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver
notes: also nothing to do with vr, but ON GOD I'VE GOT SOMETHING PLANNED WITH THEM I- i am also making this a mini series, because i cant physically sit down and write anything too long because this ask was very long and i simply can't not break it down into parts im sorry anon i love you
| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |
"mate, just go up and him and say 'hi'. it's not that hard."
"i know, but i'm scared."
"scared? he's a 22-year-old. he won't bite you."
"you don't know that!"
"he's a really nice kid. just go up to him and ask him if he wants to hang out."
"okay, but only if you come with me?"
"you're a fully grown adult! you don't need me with you to play matchmaker to get a new friend."
"please, george? i'm asking you this one favour."
"no can do. look! there he is! go!"
that's the last thing you hear before you are rudely shoved out of alex's driver's room. you press your lips together into a thin line, fists balled by your side as you hear george close the door behind you. you knew hanging out with george in alex's room without alex is stupid.
you had simply noticed the american rookie quietly following the thai driver around, not making many conversations with other drivers during the pre-season test a couple of weeks ago. while you're very well equipped with making friends and incorporating yourself with the rest of your colleagues, logan seemed to be one of the people you found quite difficult to approach.
not because he's unapproachable. simply because he is also very quiet and reserved on his own. once upon a time, when you first joined formula 1 as the only woman on the grid, you were good friends with charles. that was before you had drifted apart amidst all the outright comparisons everyone would make, and eventually, you had fallen into his shadow while he achieved greater things in the sport.
you had learned to find solace in your own company for about a year or so, only speaking to whoever spoke to you. it wasn't until things started falling into place when toto wolff had picked you to race with mercedes, following lewis hamilton's retirement in 2021 after failing to secure himself a championship.
logan, who has just finished his climb up the stairs, flashes you a friendly smile as he fiddles with his keys. "hey," he greets you, before abruptly turning to unlock the door to his driver's room.
"hi," you smile, awkwardly wiping your palms against the material of your shorts. "i haven't had the chance to properly introduce myself to you. i'm (y/n)."
he pushes his door open, craning his neck to acknowledge you. "i know. i've been a big fan since you joined the sport," he glances elsewhere before meeting your eyes again, "i'm logan?"
"right, we already know that," you sigh, shaking your head. you take a step forward, maintaining your distance from the entrance of his driver's room. you don't want to wind up overstepping your welcome. "um, well, welcome to formula 1."
he smiles at you, slightly more genuine this time. you watch as he puts his bag down by the door. "thank you."
"no problem." you bite on the inside of your cheek, turning around to open the door to alex's driver's room. you hear the door creaking behind you, and you vaguely remember that all this awkward conversation wasn't initiated for nothing.
you turn back around and try to hold the door open. your palm meets the door, logan flinching back in surprise as you tilt your head to peek up at him. "have you had your lunch yet?"
he shakes his head. "why?"
"george and i are waiting for alex to finish his meeting with james before we go and grab lunch somewhere in the paddocks," you smile. "wanna hang out?"
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b0r3dtod3ath · 9 months
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"Cause I <3 you, you’re the one that I adore :)"
Formula 1 masterlist
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: Assistant!reader x rdr!seb. Based on this request. Set during the 2012 season.
A/N: I know a few people wanted me to write this trope so here it is :) Also this fic is loosely inspired by BBM baby by Lana Del Rey.
“Yea, I still don’t understand why I need an assistant” Well this sentence certainly didn’t calm your anxiety as you were sitting on a chair, staring at the door. You were supposed to meet your boss, well not really a boss but a person you were supposed to help. He wasn’t just a random person, he was Sebastian Vettel, two-time world champion in Formula 1. You were a fan of this sport so when an opportunity for you to work in that field appeared, you took it without thinking twice. Maybe you weren’t one of the most important employees on the paddock nonetheless you still got to travel the world and be a part of every race week. “Sebastian, you were late for the last three meetings. I can’t be looking after you all the time.” a female voice said. You recognized it - it was Sebastian’s press officer. She was a lovely lady. You got to meet her because she was the one recruiting you. “So you are really getting me a babysitter?” huffed the driver. The door in front of you opened causing you to jump from your seat and put on a smile. “Hi! Nice to see you again! Come on in!” said the lady. As you walked in a tall, blonde boy sat up and introduced himself “Sebastian Vettel. You can call me Seb. Nice to meet you.” The eye contact made your cheeks heat up a little “Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure working with you”. As you sat down you heard Sebastian whisper a quiet “It sure is” under his nose.
You came up with the idea of a maximum of 10-minute long meetings after breakfast during the race weekend. They were meant for you to give Seb a quick overview for the day - what is he doing at what time. You were sitting at the hotel’s restaurant, waiting for him to show up, you didn’t expect him to show up on time but he barely managed to. “Hi, sorry. I hope you didn’t wait long” he said as he sat opposite to you. “Good morning, I’m fine, you are on time actually” you greeted him with a smile, chuckling at his messy bed hair. “So today you are supposed to first meet your physiotherapist and then” you were interrupted by sniffling. Probably a morning runny nose. You grabbed your small purse and handed a tissue to the man. “Thank you” he said, surprised that you noticed. “So then you have a first practice session at 1PM and..” - you quickly went over what was planned for the day “Alright, any questions? If you really want to move some meetings then let me know and I will try to figure out something. I’m leaving this paper for you to know what’s going on and I think that’s it.” you handed him a post-it note with everything neatly written. Cute writing he thought as he looked at it "There's also my number if you need something and I happen not to be around”. Oh yea, he was definitely gonna use this one. 
After a few races, you started developing a more casual relationship - it could even be called a friendship. The chemistry never left working hours. You didn’t understand why but it bothered you. Well, you noticed some signals - butterflies in your stomach appearing when you two held eye contact for more than a second, your heart skipping a beat when you accidentally touch or the heat rising to your cheeks every time he calls you by your nickname. You were a walking symptom of having a crush and yet you denied it. “I’m working for him, of course, we have to be nice to each other! He’s like that to every female reporter, a cheeky little bastard.” or “It’s his job to treat me nice.” you used to tell your friend on a phone, whispering as if Sebastian was to hear you. Little did you know, he has in fact changed his behavior towards women once you appeared in his life, he started being less flirty and reckless but not in terms of you. He would never tell you to do anything for him because it felt weird to him. At first, you were looking after him like he was a child - checking in if he was hungry or if he needed water. He never complained about being looked after because he found it comforting. He felt like you were truly caring for him, a feeling that he hadn’t felt in years due to his lifestyle. 
You would never call him unless he was late. Sebastian was in his hotel room, sprawled out on the bed, head with messy blonde hair buried in pillows. His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. “Huh?” his eyes still closed “Seb, you were supposed to text me when you wake up so you won’t be late again. Please tell me you got up” your voice was a sound he wished to wake up for the rest of his life “Mrrh Dreaming? An angel called me?” he said half awake completely ignoring your tone “Great, amazing even. Vettel, wake up. I’m gonna come to your room in 10 minutes and please cooperate”. Even though you were the same age you sometimes felt like you were babysitting him. Sebastian obeyed you and got dressed. He liked to annoy you a bit but he would be cautious not to cause you too much trouble. You knocked on his door not expecting him to be ready. To your surprise, you were greeted by a fully dressed Sebastian holding his toothbrush. He gestured to you to come in. You have never been to his hotel room so it a bit personal. You stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. Your eyes wandered around the room which looked more neat than you expected - no clothes laying around and only his phone and a half-empty water bottle on his nightstand but the bed looked like a mess and you couldn’t judge him, after all he did wake up less than ten minutes before. The bathroom door was opened so you were able to observe him brushing his teeth. It was a thing he did everyday (even more than once!) yet it felt almost intimate. “Okay, let’s go” he said with a big smile once he finished and held the door for you. You were heading for a team meeting that you were also a part of. Your role there was to take notes that were handed to the driver later. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off you, sitting next to him as you wrote something important that he didn’t even hear. He loved to watch you in this state where you were so focused you barely paid attention to anything else. He loved the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear or play with a pen anytime there was something not worth writing down discussed. When the meeting was over you handed him the paper, he didn’t even look at it but the thing that caught his attention was your dress. It wasn’t revealing or stereotypically sexy - little flowers on a navy background, short sleeves and knee length just suited your personality in his mind. “Nice dress” he said, catching you off guard as you were saying your goodbyes. This weekend Sebastian finished P1 getting closer and closer to his next world champion title.
Next weekend was the last weekend before the summer break. Even though you had lost your hope in terms of your emotions towards Sebastian there was a little part of you that still wished that he would make some kind of a move. It was Saturday night, you had already showered and got yourself ready to bed. You heard a notification and looked at the screen of your phone. “I’m outside your door. Wanna talk to you. XOXO, Seb :)”. He himself didn’t know why he ended the text like that. He was just nervous and high on adrenaline. The message was followed by three gentle knocks on your door. You let Sebastian in and before you could say anything he grabbed your hands and said “I, I I think I love you. For the past few months you had been my sunshine. You make me happier. I adore everything about you, every single little detail. Please make me an even happier man and let me take you out for dinner. And wear that dress you wore last week."
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tigertales9 · 6 months
Text
Hard Reset III
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut
Description: This fic covers the week 4 loss to the Titans.
Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio
A/N: This is the third fic in the Hard Reset series. It's also a shameless sex-fest. I promise there will be more actual plot (and sex!) in the next fic.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 10/1/23 (after the week 4 loss to the Titans)
You check your watch as you pace around the kitchen, your mind grasping at what to say to Joe when he gets home. You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension as you think back to the game.
~ ~ ~
The 27-3 loss to the Titans felt like a huge step back after the Monday Night Football win against the Rams. The entire game was a disappointment to put it mildly. Every single phase -- offense, defense, special teams, play calling -- was lackluster as hell. The only positive was Joe's calf injury didn't seem to get re-tweaked, but you never know how it will react from one day to the next. Joe had once again requested you and his parents not greet him if the Bengals lost, so y'all were already in the car heading for the exit when the clock ticked down to 0:00. You beat the team charter flight back by a couple hours, and Joe's parents decided to head home since they knew he wouldn't want company.
~ ~ ~
The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present, your pulse picking up when Joe walks in and locks eyes with you. "Hey," you greet, quickly walking forward to give him a hug. "Hey," he mutters, dropping his bag before wrapping his arms around you. "Sorry you traveled all that way just to see a shitshow," he continues, giving you a look that's half grin/half grimace when you pull back and look up at his face.
"It wasn't a shit …"
"Yes it was," he interrupts, heaving a tired sigh. "Don't sugar-coat it."
"Yes, sir," you mumble. "How do you feel?"
He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Physically, not too bad. Mentally, like total shit."
You swallow hard and give a quick nod, a little disconcerted that he seems to be looking right through you; before you can think of something to say he speaks up again.
"Listen, Sam's gonna pick me up in a few minutes. We're having a team meeting at his house tonight."
"The whole team?" you ask.
"No, just the Captains and a few other guys." He picks his bag up and heads for the stairs before continuing. "We've gotta figure some shit out, make sure we're on the same page then put it to bed." He pauses halfway up the stairs and finally makes good eye contact with you. "The entire season is on the line; somebody has to light a fire under our asses and …"
"You're just the man to do it," you interject, giving him what you hope looks like an encouraging smile.
"Exactly," he states, before disappearing upstairs.
He reappears a few minutes later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly checking his phone when it chimes with a new text. "Sam's here," he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading for the door. "I may be late getting home. Don't wait up."
Your eyebrows head for your hairline as he breezes out the door. "Love you, too," you grumble under your breath after the door closes behind him. You try not to take his abrupt departure personally, but you're feeling a little sorry for yourself when the door slings open and he walks back in. "Did you forget something?" you ask.
"Yeah," he answers, striding up to you. He leans down and gives you a lingering kiss before pulling back. "Love you," he states. "Love you, too," you answer, giving him a big grin as he hurries back out the door. "Telepathic ass," you chuckle once he's gone. "I swear that man can read my mind."
~ ~ ~
A couple hours later you wake up abruptly and sit straight up in bed, your heart pounding for several seconds until you realize the noise that woke you is just Joe in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He eventually walks into the bedroom giving you a sheepish grin when he sees you. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he mutters, crawling into bed and basically faceplanting into his pillow.
"It's okay," you soothe, turning onto your side to face him; you run your fingernails up and down his bare back, smiling at his muffled groans. "That feels good," he mumbles into his pillow, a shiver running down his spine when you slide your hand into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp.
"Did y'all figure some things out?" you ask, admiring his tall frame which is clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs.
"Mmm-hmm. Mainly that I sucked today and we won't win shit until I get better."
"The whole team sucked today, not just you."
"Thanks for admitting I sucked."
You roll your eyes and give his ample ass a loud smack before rubbing it.
"Don't get me started," he warns.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I know where this is headed, but I don't feel like having sex tonight."
You withdraw your hand and scoot away from him. "Sorry," you whisper. "I just thought … nevermind."
"Listen," he sighs, flopping over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "I don't want pity sex, and there's no way you're turned on after how awful I played today."
You narrow your eyes at the slight slur in his speech. "Have you been drinking?"
"A little."
"Then I won't tear your ass up about projecting until you sober up."
"What do you mean projecting?"
"You know exactly what I mean." You take a deep breath before continuing. "We've had this conversation before."
"Refresh my memory."
"Should probably wait until tomorrow. I'm in no mood to sugar-coat it tonight."
"Fuck sugar-coating," he snorts, "tell me what you're thinking."
"Fine." You push up into a sitting position and look down at him, the hallway light providing just enough illumination to make out his petulant expression. "When you lose a game you get really down on yourself, and you project that feeling onto me. But -- like I've said several times before -- the way I feel about you is not determined by whether or not you win fucking football games, okay? If you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"I just …"
"I'm not finished," you interrupt. "I'm starting to think you're the one who doesn't want sex after the team loses, which is fine, but you need to quit blaming it on me." You slide out of bed as you finish your mini tirade. "I'm not sleepy anymore," you state as you head for the door. "I'm gonna go get some work done."
You walk down the hallway to your office, shutting the door behind you before dropping into your desk chair with an annoyed sigh; you click your desk lamp on and run a hand through your hair. "Way to overreact, dumbass," you grumble under your breath, immediately feeling guilty. "You know he always needs extra affirmation after a loss and instead you chewed him out. Better go apologize."
You stand up and head for the door, stopping in your tracks when you hear a soft knock. "Come in," you call, biting your lip as he walks into the room. "I'm sorry," you blurt before he can say anything, quickly closing the distance to wrap your arms around him. "I overreacted."
He returns your hug for several heartbeats before leaning back to lock eyes with you. "You don't need to apologize. I need to stop being an insecure brat every time I lose a damn game."
"You don't really think I lose attraction to you after a loss, right? I used to think you were just teasing, but I seriously can't tell anymore."
He shrugs his broad shoulders, the action causing his forehead curls to bounce. "I'm mostly teasing, but I've been feeling pretty bad about myself lately so I guess I've been fishing for compliments more than usual." He gives you a sheepish smile. "And I was def hoping to have sex tonight. I guess I laid the pity party on a little too thick, though."
"So -- to be clear -- when you said you didn't feel like having pity sex …"
"I really meant I wanted you to seduce me. To show me you still want me even though I played like shit."
"Okay, that's good to know. I mean, that's what I normally do when you get in this mood, but it's starting to feel like I might be boundary stomping."
"You're not boundary stomping." He slides his hands down your back and cups your ass before easily lifting you up, smiling when you wrap your legs around his waist. "If I really didn't want sex I'd let you know, but don't count on that happening anytime soon," he states, punctuating his words with a throaty chuckle that sets off a steady throb of arousal in all the right places.
He walks to your desk chair and drops into it with you straddling his lap, his lips immediately on your neck after he pulls your t-shirt off and drops it on the floor. You lean your head to the side to give him better access, moaning at the feel of his mouth on your neck and his hands on your breasts, his agile fingers teasing you with barely-there touches before pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples just hard enough to make you gasp his name. "You like that?" he whispers against your ear, his hot breath causing a gush of wetness in your core. "Yeah," you whimper, grinding your crotch against his obvious erection as he continues to tease you.
He eventually drops a hand down and rubs your clit through your panties before slipping his fingers inside to play with your wet folds, his deep voice in your ear sending shock waves of pleasure down your spine as he slides a long finger inside you, adding a second finger when you beg for more. "So wet for me," he growls, making a feral noise deep in his throat when you start riding his fingers, slow at first then faster, your breathless whimpers leveling up to louder moans when he latches his pretty lips onto a nipple, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on the hardened peak.
"Don't stop!" you urge, biting your lip when he pulls off one nipple and moves to the other, giving it a gentle nip with his teeth before sucking it into his hot mouth. "I'm so close," you whine as he grinds his thumb against your clit while pumping his fingers inside you, a steady stream of whimpers spilling from your lips as your climax hits. You bury your face in his fragrant neck and gasp for breath, feeling lightheaded by the intensity of the orgasm, existing in a state of total bliss for several minutes until your dainty desk chair gives an ominous-sounding creak.
"Uh-oh," you pant, leaning back to lock eyes with him. "I think both of us in this chair is too much."
The chair makes another, even louder creak and Joe raises his eyebrows. "Why do you have such a flimsy-ass desk chair?"
"Because it's cute and comfy. Plus it's perfectly fine when it's just me sitting in it."
"You calling me fat?" he asks playfully, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.
"No, you goober," you giggle, easing yourself off of his lap to settle on your knees on the floor between his manspread thighs. "You're tall and muscular and big," you state. "Deliciously big," you continue, ghosting your fingers over his impressive erection while licking your lips. "Let's lose these," you whisper, pulling his undies off and tossing them to the side.
You take your time enjoying the view before dropping open-mouthed kisses up the long length of his thick thighs, his soft, blonde leg hair tickling your lips as you work your way up to his crotch; he sucks your essence off of his fingers as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, the look on his face making you want to do deliciously naughty things to him.
"You're gorgeous," you whisper, sliding your hands over his abs, smiling when his muscles tighten under your touch. The heat radiating off of his big, hard body makes you more than a little lightheaded, and his scent -- a purely masculine musk -- literally makes your mouth water. You decide to let him know. "You make my mouth water," you groan, continuing to drop kisses near, but not quite on, his hard cock.
"No I don't," he scoffs, color rushing into his cheeks at the compliment.
It always amazes you when he gets shy about his good looks; in his mind he's still a nerdy guy, and he's not quite comfortable with the fact that he grew up to be a total sex god. You give him a sultry grin as you double down.
"You 100 percent make my mouth water. Want me to show you?"
He studies your face for a bit before responding. "Yeah … show me."
"Okay." You take your time gathering the excess saliva on your tongue before opening your mouth, letting the spit drizzle down on his shaft while holding eye contact with him. "So fucking hot," he hisses, his cock twitching as you lean down and flatten your tongue against it, licking base to tip before lapping at the precum on the plump, velvety head. The sensual, uniquely masculine taste has another flood of saliva pouring into your mouth; you lean back and lock eyes with him as you gather the moisture again, this time spitting it in your hand before wrapping your fist around his thick shaft, jacking him with smooth, steady strokes for a minute before dropping your head back down to tease him with your lips and tongue, slowly replacing your hand with your mouth as you take him deep, your gag reflex firing a few times before you hit just the right angle to deep throat him.
He buries his hands in your hair as you pleasure him, the words of praise spilling from his lips interspersed with soft grunts and groans that go straight to your core. Tears roll down your cheeks, and he brushes them away then lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the salty liquid before hissing in pleasure as you lightly scratch your fingernails over his balls.
"Shit, babe, hold up a sec," he grits out. "I don't wanna cum yet." You pull off of his erection with an audible pop, wiping a hand over the spit and precum coating your chin while panting to catch your breath. "Just let me know what you need," you offer, your pulse picking up at the feral look on his face. He loudly sucks his plump bottom lip into his mouth, the action and noise so suggestive that you feel your core throbbing in unison with your racing heartbeat.
"I need to taste you," he purrs, his voice husky with desire. "Then I need to fuck you."
The throbbing in your core escalates, and you cup a hand over your soaked panties to try and ease the almost-painful ache; his gaze flicks down to your crotch before returning to your face, the carnal promise in his smile making your pleasure points hum with anticipation.
"How sturdy is your desk?" he asks, eyeing it as if sizing it up for a naughty, vigorous romp.
"Not sturdy," you mutter, gasping in surprise when he quickly stands up and reaches down, wrapping his hands around your waist and picking you up before striding for the door; you wrap your legs around him and bury your face in his neck as he walks to the bedroom.
He sits you on the edge of the bed and slides your panties off in one smooth motion, dropping to his knees on the floor between your spread thighs; you lean back on your elbows and watch as he lowers his head and flutters his tongue over your clit before plunging his tongue inside you, the noise you make causing him to lock eyes with you as he repeats the action. "I'm gonna cum in ten seconds if you keep that up," you whimper, biting your lip when he lifts your legs over his broad shoulders. "Then let's slow it down," he purrs against your most sensitive flesh, the vibrations from his deep voice causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot through you. "I'm gonna take my time," he continues, dropping delicate kisses and licks on your aching folds while avoiding your clit.
After what seems like an eternity on the edge, you decide to take matters into your own hands; you slide a hand in his messy curls and give a tug, using the leverage to grind your pussy against his face in a way you know he loves. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growls once you let him come up for air, his eyes dark with lust when he raises his head to look at you. "I'm seriously about to cum," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat when you quickly lift your legs off of his shoulders and slide off the bed, straddling him and reaching a hand down to line his cock up with your slick entrance before taking him balls deep.
He makes a noise that's half groan/half growl and 100% primal when your core clenches his thick length; you dig your fingers into his muscular shoulders and start riding him hard, whimpering on every down stroke at the feel of him bottoming out. He leans you back until your back is pressed against the edge of the bed, the new angle causing him to hit your sweet spot on every stroke. "Just like that!" you pant, moaning when he drops a hand down to tease your clit. "Fuck, baby," he hisses as his climax hits, the hot spurts coating your core as he pinches your clit with just the right amount of pressure to pull your trigger.
The sound of your mutual heavy breathing is the only noise you hear for several minutes; when you finally open your eyes and look at him, you have to smile at how totally fucked out he looks. "I think I passed out for a sec," you pant. "Me too," he chuckles.
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later -- after a shared shower where both of you laughingly complained about your shaky legs -- y'all are lying in bed, trading yawns and agreeing to sleep late the next morning.
You're just on the edge of sleep when he speaks up. "Babe? You still awake?"
"Yeah."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
The silence stretches out for a minute before he speaks up again. "It's kind of stupid, I guess. Maybe I'll keep it to myself."
"What is it?" you ask, sitting up so you can look down at him.
He scrunches his perfect nose up. "We have two games left before the bye week."
"Yeah, Cardinals and Seahawks."
"If I play really awful like I did today, and we lose both of those games, will you still secretly marry me during the bye?"
You give a snort of laughter before you realize he's not laughing with you. "Are you serious?"
"A little, yeah."
You take a deep breath before responding. "Remember that convo we had earlier tonight when I said if you lose every single game for the rest of your NFL career, I'll still want you more than anything?"
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles.
"Well, let me drive that point home a little harder." You brush his curls off of his forehead and give him a smile before continuing. "If you play like total dogshit in both games, throw twenty picks, lose fifty to nothing, and cut a huge fart in the post-game pressers, I'll still want you more than anything. I can't wait to secretly -- and eventually not-so-secretly -- marry you. Does that answer your question?"
"Yeah," he laughs along with you for a minute before quieting down. "Sorry I'm being such a needy baby lately."
"You're being human instead of a robot," you soothe, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. "It's a nice change," you say cheekily, giggling when he flips you over and lands a loud smack on your ass. "Don't get me started," you echo his words from earlier.
He rolls you back over and pushes up on an elbow, looking down at you in the dim lighting. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I know where this is headed," you purr, licking your lips just before his mouth captures yours.
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persphonesorchid · 2 years
Text
Auburn Skies - MYG
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Summary:  Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. 
Namjoon's gonna kill him.
Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.
Word count: 12k
Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.
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Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.
If you like my content, please, consider donating if you're able - Here
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"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.
"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.
"Sure. I believe you."
Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.
He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.
You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.
Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.
Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.
The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.
Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?
Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."
As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.
Off limits.
Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.
You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.
Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.
Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.
You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.
You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.
"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."
Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."
Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."
"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."
Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.
He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.
At least someone's having fun.
Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.
"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.
"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."
Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.
"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."
Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.
Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.
When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.
Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?
Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.
He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.
The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.
It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.
He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.
He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.
He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.
The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.
Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.
There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.
Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.
"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.
"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."
"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."
Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.
The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.
Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.
Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.
"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.
"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.
Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."
Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.
At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.
Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.
"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.
"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"
You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.
Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.
You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.
You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.
He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.
Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.
"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"
"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.
"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"
"No."
"Yes."
Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.
"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.
"Okay."
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"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."
"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.
You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"
"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.
"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.
Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.
You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.
Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.
Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.
More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.
It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.
You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."
"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."
"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"
"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.
Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.
"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.
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"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"
"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"
Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.
Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.
"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.
"Nope, leave me out of this."
"But he's cheating!"
"I'm not! You just suck."
Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.
"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.
"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.
"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.
Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.
"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.
Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.
"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."
"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.
Taehyung ignores him.
"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.
"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.
"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.
"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.
Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.
Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."
"Oh...Kay? Sure."
Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"
"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.
He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"
"Uh...sure."
A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.
"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"
Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?
Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.
He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."
"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.
"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"
"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."
Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?
He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.
"Okay so remember the time when you-"
"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"
"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.
"Really? It was so quiet..."
You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.
"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"
Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.
The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.
As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.
"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."
"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."
Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."
Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.
"Joon is oblivious sometimes."
"You are too."
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"Here, this one's longer."
Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.
He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.
"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.
"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.
"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.
"When it's burnt it's the best, though."
"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."
"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.
"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"
"I wasn't moaning!"
"Yes you were!"
Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.
"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"
"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.
Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.
"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"
"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.
"I wanna make happy noises, too."
When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.
Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.
"Owner's rights, Hobi."
"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"
Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.
You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.
You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.
"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.
"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"
Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"
Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.
"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."
"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.
"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."
Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.
Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.
"Ahem."
You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.
Think fast, Yoongi. Think.
"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "
Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.
Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.
"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"
With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.
"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.
Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?
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"Let's watch The Conjuring."
"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."
A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."
"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."
Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.
"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."
Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.
Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.
He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.
Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.
Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.
He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.
Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.
"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"
"You're leaving me here to suffer?"
"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."
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Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.
The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.
He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.
There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.
Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.
"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.
"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.
"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.
"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.
"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."
"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.
You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.
"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.
"I wasn't really drunk." You say
Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"
"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.
"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.
"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.
"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."
"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"
"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."
Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."
"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.
Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.
"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."
Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"
You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"
He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.
"Since we met?"
Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.
"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."
You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.
He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.
You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.
He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.
"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.
Namjoon is going to kill him.
He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.
"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.
He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.
"Is this about Namjoon?"
Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.
"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."
Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.
You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."
"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."
You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.
"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.
He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.
He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.
He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."
It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.
He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.
"Yoon--fuck."
Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.
"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.
"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"
Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.
"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.
"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."
"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."
"Fuck, okay."
Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.
"You're big."
"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.
You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"
"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."
He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"
"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.
"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"
"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.
You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.
"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."
You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.
There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.
"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.
He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.
"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.
He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."
When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.
"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."
He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.
"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."
"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.
Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"
"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."
Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"
There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.
Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."
He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.
He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.
When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.
Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"
You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."
"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."
He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."
You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."
"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."
He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"
"Nah, they're asleep."
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"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."
It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.
Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.
"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.
Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."
Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"
Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.
"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.
"The bin is right there."
"Are you drinking the juice?"
Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.
"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.
"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.
He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."
"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."
"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.
"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."
Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.
Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.
When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.
"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."
"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.
"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.
"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.
"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."
"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.
Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."
The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."
"What?"
"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"
"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.
"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."
Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."
"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"
"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."
Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."
Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.
"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"
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Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash
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pedrisbanana · 1 year
Note
pedri and joao threesome pls 🙏🏻💕 absolutely love everything u write
Their cum as lipgloss >...
Enjoy 🍌
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Twice The Fun
You were squealing like a little school girl, when you opened your package. After removing the wrapping paper, the royal blue fabric greeted you. The polyester was soft between your fingers, when you took the shirt from the box. 
You smiled.
Another piece for your collection. Immediately after seeing the transfer announcement on his instagram, you went to the FC Chelsea website and placed your order. 
Scrunching your nose at the chemical smell, you cut the labels and put it in the washing machine. 20 Minutes and it will smell fresh as ever.
His jerseys held a special place in your closet, right behind your dresses and blouses. All of them neatly hung up on black coat hangers, sorted by club and season. You started collecting them long before meeting Pedri, who wasn't exactly fond of your little obsession with Chelsea's new striker starlet.
So when you sat on the couch two days later, watching Chelsea's Champions League match and Pedri came home from practice, he gave you a cold stare instead of the usual kiss. All because of that damn name on the back of the jersey.
"So you're a Chelsea fan now ?" Your boyfriend asked mockingly, sitting down next to you. 
You smirked. "Only until the end of the season, then I can watch him beat your ass in LaLiga again" 
"I should bend you over and give your ass a little beating for talking to me like that" Pedri replied, obviously pissed off.
"I really don't get why you're so jealous. I'm just a fan" you poked his chest playfully. 
"I'm not jealous! João Felix is a fucking arrogant asshole, who thinks he's the next Ronaldo just bc he scored a few goals. You shouldn't sit here, wearing his jersey." Pedri crossed his arms.
You decided to push his buttons a little more. "and yet he's there playing Champions League and you sit here, exhausted from extra training, because you disqualified from Europa League"
The midfielder rolled his eyes. "If he's so great then why aren't you there with him ? I bet you'd let him fuck you after the match, the way you're jumping up and down just because he hit the crossbar. Any 4th grader would've scored that." 
"If you had asked me in 2019 I'd tell you yes. I thought his braces were really hot" you admitted, focus back on the TV. 
Pedri laughed. "His braces ?" You joined in, glad he lightened his mood.
"What can I say I am obsessed" 
He looked at you, raising a brow. "So you're telling me you didn't think about it recently"
"If I say I did, will you get a pissed again ?" you nudged his shoulder.
You leaned close to his ear, not waiting for a reply. "Because I did, but don't worry, only when Barcelona played against Atletico. Twice the fun, right ?" 
-
Teasing Pedri with João wasn't your best choice. You boyfriend had been acting annoyed all week and ignored your affectionate tries to lighten him up. You decided to surprise and apologize to him. 
Pedri had a new campaign photoshoot with Adidas today, meaning he would probably come home late. 
You dimmed the light in your shared bedroom and lit a few tea lights to set the mood. Pedri loved it when you wore lingerie and you had just found the right set on your shopping trip today. It came with a matching robe which wouldn't make you feel too naked. The color was a soft red, powdery and not to bright, complimenting your skin tone.
The thought of Pedri's lips teasing your skin as he slowly took the lace of your body made you shiver in delight. He wouldn't be able to resist you.
Putting on some light makeup, you heard the lock turning. You quickly applied some last layers of mascara and went to the hallway. 
You jumped into your boyfriends arms, pulling him into a heated kiss. His hands caught your waist under the robe caressing your hips. Your fingers caressed his cheek as you broke the kiss, staring into his deep brown eyes. 
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased you. I'm more obsessed with you than with João." you said, hoping he'd accept it. 
"Didn't sound like that when Pedri told me about it." a voice with familiar accent stated. You know that voice.
You let go of your boyfriend to see if your guess was right, but it couldn't be. You must be hallucinating. 
João Félix was standing in your hallway. He wore a beige oversized t-shirt with the logo of some designer brand and light ripped jeans. You looked back and forth between the Portuguese and Pedri. 
So many questions ran through your mind. 
"I wanted to apologize for being an asshole and Félix and I did the photoshoot together so I invited him to meet you since you love him so much." Pedri explained, pushing you a little towards João. 
"I- ummm. Hey." the blush that decorated your face and neck must make you look like a beet.
"Hey." João smiled at you and checked out your outfit. Realizing you were still only wearing the rather revealing set of underwear, you wrapped the robe around yourself. 
"I'll umm go change." The presence of João made you forget how to think properly.
"No need to. Red is my favourite color, but I'm sure you know that." João said teasingly, a smirk curling on his lips. His hand caught your arm, holding you from leaving.
You stopped in your tracks and you were sure you forgot how to breathe for a second. Did he just flirt with you ? 
His grip on your arm was firm but soft. It made your whole body shiver. You turned your head to see Pedri's reaction. He must be fuming. 
To your surprise you're easily provoked sweetheart was watching the scenery without a hint of anger or annoyance. 
"You do look irresistible. What a nice surprise-" Pedri looked at João and winked. "- for both of us." 
You shot a confused look towards Pedri, about to ask what he was up to when he walked towards you. Trapped between the two footballers, you swallowed. 
"Isn't this what you dreamed about, princesa ? Twice the fun. Remember ?" His voice went straight to your core, soaking your panties. 
Of course you remembered. The thought of both Pedri and João touching you helped you fall asleep many nights, but that was it. Just a fantasy. 
João moved his hand to undo your robe. He slightly towered over you due to his height, lips almost touching your temple. You leaned into him, inviting him to go further. 
Pedri slipped his hand inside your panties. The pads of his fingers finding you wet and needy. 
If you thought about what was happening right now, you'd probably laugh, but you couldn't rationally think right now. João's and Pedri's hands on your body was all you could think about. 
João discarded your robe and opened your bra with a flick of his fingers. 
"You're so pretty." he whispered. His voice was drowned in arousal. 
You wanted to speak up, but he cupped your breasts and massaged them, which had you moaning instead. Your boyfriend started to kiss your neck. 
Somewhere between João teasing your now hardened nipples and Pedri having two fingers pumping in and out of you, the three of you ended up in the bedroom. 
You were sitting on the edge of the bed and watched as João took his shirt off. His skin was tan and his muscles defined. He sat next to you on the duvet and Pedri encouraged you to be more confident. 
João caressed your hair as you opened the fly of his jeans. His long fingers combed through the strands and he leaned back a little. His dark brown eyes watched you intensely. Your hand reached inside his boxers. 
He was hard and warm in your hand. The other found leverage on his knee. João let out a breathy moan when you started to move your hand up and down, spreading the precum leaking at the tip. His hand wrapped around yours to tighten your grip around him, teaching you how he'd like it. 
You moved your sitting position to kneel beside him on the bed. The wetness between your thighs felt sticky and you rotated your hips slightly to create some friction. 
"Put me inside your mouth, amor." The striker whispered, hand wrapped around the back of your neck. 
Strong hands pulled at your hips as you leaned down. Pedri's hand sneaked inside your panties again, finding your pulsing clit. 
You let spit run over João's tip, covering his shaft, before taking him. Teasing the head by tracing the small furrow on the underside with your tongue made him call out your name. You clenched your thighs. 
Your boyfriend pulled your legs apart with one hand, keeping them apart with one knee. Pedri kneeled behind you. His hips flush with your ass. He must've taken his pants off, because you felt his hot skin on yours.
João's other hand started to play with your hair again as he watched you take more of his cock. 
"That's perfect, take all of me." he praised you, slightly pushing your head down by the neck. He added just enough pressure to make you press yourself against Pedri's erection. The midfilder let go of your hip to play with one of your nipples. Pulling and twisting it, making it harder not to grind against him. 
Removing your hand from João's shaft, you grasped his shoulder. The hand on his knee moved to play with his balls. They were full and heavy and João thrust his hips up, making you gag. 
Tears formed in your eyes from the burning sensation in your throat. João found a fast pace with his hips, hitting the back off your throat repeatedly. You were on the edge with Pedri rubbing your sensitive spot. 
You came with tears and spit running from your face, still swallowing João's cock. 
Pedri pulled you up and João wiped your tears with his thumbs. Pedri held you to him and kissed your flushed cheek. 
"That was so hot, princesa. Can't wait to be inside of you." he said, lips warm against your face. 
João's warmth disappeared as he got up to take his pants off, but you stopped him. Reaching forward you pulled his jeans and briefs now all the way down. 
His thighs looked strong as he walked towards you. He turned to Pedri, asking him something in Portuguese which you didn't understand. Pedri laughed and nodded, replying. 
João went over to one of your drawers but before you could see what he did, Pedri pulled you into a kiss. His tongue massaged yours and his hand intertwined with yours. You reached under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his six pack. 
The midfielder broke the kiss to take his shirt off, only his boxers covering him now. You wanted to please him. He shouldn't have to watch you have fun with João, even though Pedri had encouraged all of this. 
"Lay down." he whispered and grabbed some pillows from the headboard. 
As you were getting comfortable, Pedri positioned one pillow beneath your head and one beneath your ass. His hands explored your body doing so, touches lingering longer than needed. It got you excited all over again. 
The bed dipped beside you as Joao came back. His hands travelled from your knees to the dip of your waist, spreading them in the motion. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them off you. His hand immediately cupped your exposed pussy and you bucked into him. 
He watched you squirm, lips slightly parted and moved to lay beside you. His lips left butterfly kisses on your shoulder, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Two of his long fingers entered you, making you arch into the pillows. 
After discarding his briefs, Pedri appeared on your other side. He whispered declarations of love into your neck. You felt something cold on your wet folds and hissed. João pulled his fingers out, spreading the cold liquid over your sensitive pussy, before moving them back inside. 
At least you thought so, but his digits only teased your entrance before guiding them lower. His middle finger teased the little ring of muscles, making you shriek in shock. He stopped.
Pedri caressed your cheek and pressed his forehead against yours. 
"I'll be careful. You'll like it if you relax." João mumbled against your shoulder. 
Your boyfriend moved his hands down your lower stomach to find you're prepared and dripping. He easily slid his fingers inside. 
"I'm here, mi vida. I've got you." Pedri said, curling his fingers. You cuddled into him. "We've got you." 
Pedri made you feel safe. 
João moved slightly atop of you. His free hand exploring your chest and his lips followed. When he teased your nipple with his tongue, he continued to massage your back entrance. 
This time you relaxed, enjoying the new sensations. The tip of his finger slipped inside as Pedri found your sweet spot inside of you. 
You felt your orgasm building up and Joao pressed further inside. He slowly started to move in and out, reaching hidden spots. 
The name on your lips was now his. He chuckled against your breast. "I told you you'll like it." 
Pedri circled your clit, wanting you to reach your peak. He had you clenching uncontrollably around him in seconds. João took the opportunity to slip a second finger inside of you. You barely even noticed it, being focused on the electricity making your body spasm. He bit down on your nipple. 
Now focusing on your other breast, he increased the pace of his fingers and Pedri, too, continued the play of his fingers. 
"Hermosa, you're a sight." Pedri moaned against your lips. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed. He looked so sexy when he was aroused, you almost started drooling.
João looked up at you from your chest, releasing your abused bud with a pop. "I think you're ready to take my cock now, amor." 
He cocked his eyebrow and smirked. Removing his fingers, he crawled next to you. Pedri guided you to lay on your side, facing him. Your boyfriend handed João the lube again. 
Your heart thumbed in your chest. You had never experienced this much pleasure. Pedri hooked your leg over his waist, pulling you closer. 
Finally you could feel his cock against you. You were impossibly wet, his tip immediately slipping inside, being pressed flush. 
Pedri fucked you in a static pace, enough to make you moan, but not enough to make you come. His face pressed into your chest, hands spreading your cheeks for João.
You clawed at Pedri's back, surely leaving bruises. Arching your back into him, he increased the speed of his hips. You barely even noticed João entering your backside. He felt big, too big to make this pleasurable, but these two had proved you wrong before. 
Guiding his cock further, he moaned your name into your neck. His hands held your hips in a vice grip. He filled you out completely, waiting for you to get used to the feeling. 
Your hand found his and he slightly intertwined your fingers, resting them on your hip. 
"You're doing so well, amor. Taking two cocks at the same time." João kissed your shoulder. 
You couldn't quite register what he said, your thoughts and feelings overwhelmed by the intense pleasure. Your face felt sticky as you pressed it into the pillow. You didn't know if it was from the tears or the sweat. 
Pedri groaned into your chest as João started to move. They must feel each other pleasuring you. After a few thrusts the two synchronized each other. The sounds coming from your mouth were pure and raw desire. 
"This feels so good, makes me think we should invite him more often. What do you think, cariño ?" Pedri toyed with your nipple between his teeth, making you nod and scream out in pleasure. He never had a better idea.
João grinned against your neck and moved your joined hands to your middle. He let go of your fingers, but you trapped his hand in a vice grip. His fingers found your clit, drawing figure eights. 
The third orgasm of the night crashed over you in waves. It felt even better than the first two. 
Expecting the boys to come inside of you, you tried to move your hips, riding out your orgasm. 
They had other plans, as João carefully pulled out and detached himself from his hugging position against you. Pedri followed and slid up to the headboard. 
His crotch was now at level with your face, cock glistening with your juices. You felt João's hands guide you on all fours above Pedri, repositioning the pillow under your pelvis. 
João slipped inside your pussy with ease, filling you to the brim. You clenched around him greedily accepting his hard thrusts. His balls slapped against your throbbing clit. 
Pedri jerked his cock, guiding your head onto him by holding your hair in his hand at the back of your skull. Taking him fully, he moved the hand from his manhood to rest comfortably on the pillows behind his neck. 
Before you got to enjoy to blow your boyfriend, João released himself inside you. He pulled out, spilling some of his cum on your pussy and ass. 
This didn't bother you enough to stop sucking Pedri off. His cock was familiar between your lips and you knew exactly how to move to get him to lose control. 
João didn't let go of your hips. His fingers spread his cum over your core and found your clit again. The striker soon had you coming for a fourth time. 
The vibrating moans at the back of your throat, brought Pedri over the edge. He thrust his hips into your mouth until he was spent. His cum tasted salty, but nice. You liked swallowing him. 
Climbing off him, you laid on your back exhausted. Pedri turned to pull you into him. João left into the small attached bathroom. 
After getting a washcloth he kneeled between your thighs, softly cleaning you up. 
"If Pedri doesn't mind, I'd like to hear more about your little obsession with me, amor."
A/N: Finally I built up the confidence to post this!
Special love and thanks go to @pedrisgatorade & @simpingmyassoff who were so kind to read this over! You're the best!
I really hope you enjoy this and leave me a comment 💕🫣
Love you❤️
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pirateprincessblog · 2 years
Text
Read For Me 》 P. Seonghwa
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NEW! Read the ongoing full version on Wattpad!
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:
One
Two
Three (new!)
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: books, fanfictions, TV shows and games took your excitement about real life away. nothing has your heart beating fast, everything is pretty much the same and dull to you. nobody could pull you out of your void of fantasy for a long time. still, your best friend decides to try one last time. she does succeed, but not in the way she meant. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, best friend's father seonghwa 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, unprotected sex 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: in my dilf atz phase.
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
༻♡༺
Buried into your books and the void of the fantasy world, you had little to no excitement left in your body for the real life events. They lacked... something. Everything was awkward, miscalculated, weird and stiff. In books, the world was so fluid. Tension, passion, strong emotions like love and hate were on almost all pages. It filled your empty memories and fantasies just right. You now wished to drop out of college, buy a castle, run into a mysterious higher vampire and be the reason he exists as a good person now. Or maybe succeed in going through the wall and ending up on Platform 9¾, preferably face first into Cedric Diggory's chest.
Erotica isn't foreign to you either. They say the dirtiest ones are usually the virgins. And they weren't wrong. The amount of frustration trapped in you did you no good. You used to wonder how your male friends could do it so often, but once you got a taste of that side, you understood better than anyone. Countless nights of your fingers working on all your sensitive buds had you only wishing for more, even after release. It just wasn't enough. You hoped for a miracle every single time. You hoped that one of the men from your fantasies would appear in your room and satisfy you just how you wanted. Wouldn't it be just perfect if Henry Cavill appeared in the room? Preferably in his Witcher costume? If not him, then Lee Dong Wook would do equally good.
You drop your book on the bed. Your eyes skimmed over words, but you didn't pay attention to a single thing that was written. You decide to take a break from reading. Maybe you could even drink your first glass of water today. The sun was almost setting, yet you only had a bowl of cereal and half of a pizza slice. You glance at the clock. You despised it. It only reminded you of how fast time flies. You didn't even get to the steamy part of your fantasy, yet you already had to get dressed and wait for your friend in the driveway.
Your college best friend is back from her seasonal vacation in the Alps. Or was it Greece this time? It didn't even matter. It seemed like they only went to keep the tradition, not because they wanted to. She was probably richer than the whole college combined, yet she didn't know where to use all her fortune. So she settled for buying presents for her friends, which is why you now have a full wall covered with books and collectible figures and movie props.
Thirty minutes later, you are outside, your eyes searching for a black Mercedes with light up wheels and a suspicious looking driver. All three of their bodyguards were funny. They weren't as they described them in books. Her bodyguards were stiff, bland, and didn't say more than a greeting. You didn't exactly expect them to flirt with you any chance they get like you were used to on the pages, but the behaviour was still a disappointment for you.
Chills run up your spine as you watch the sun set. You regret picking out the outfit you are wearing. As if you weren't aware that the summer days are far behind. You wore the dress you got from her last trip to Paris. She had a great fashion sense and loved fashion in general, and to turn down her clothes meant a heartbreak for her.
"As soon as I saw it, I thought: her."
The way she described how she found it was amusing to you. It was knee-length and had long see-through sleeves. You felt the prettiest in it.
Finally, you heard the familiar engine. You didn't even have to look. The vehicle pulled up in front of you, and before the driver could get out, the door opened. A tall masculine figure stepped out of the car, and opened the door all the way for you. You feel chills run up your spine once again, this time not from the cold, but from the sight in front of you.
The man in front of you was absolutely stunning. He had the sparkliest and biggest eyes you had ever seen, broad shoulders, a confident smirk and-
"Dad, stop messing with her! She will think she is going to get kidnapped!" Your friend's voice yelled from inside the car.
You gulped, eyes still not leaving his face. In the three years of your friendship with her, you never saw her parents. Especially her father. Not even on photos. So, naturally, you'd need time to recover from this shock.
"Whenever you are ready."
The man politely bowed his head towards the seats, then stepped back so he could close the door after you. He sat in the front seat, then nodded towards the driver as a sign to turn on the engine.
The ride was peaceful, if you exclude your friend's nails clicking against the phone screen.
"I hear you like books." The words drip from his lips like honey.
You blush at simple eye contact through the rear mirror. His gaze has your fingers playing in your lap and your thighs pressed together.
He is so hot.
"I do, Mr Park."
"That's lovely. It's rare to find people in younger generations that enjoy reading. They mainly use it as a reason to bully someone."
"It truly is," you confirm, wanting to keep the conversation going. "You enjoy books too, Sir?"
Fathers of your other friends usually tell you to call them by their names. But not Park Seonghwa. He sure as fuck is not like other fathers you've met. You don't remember the last time your cheeks felt so hot because of someone.
"Of course. I have a whole library in my house. You are free to see it if you wish. My sweet social daughter will show you. Won't you, darling?"
His gaze switches to your friend, who is too invested in the ongoing conversation on her phone to pay attention to the one happening in real life.
"Sure, sure."
Park Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, then sat back in silence. You looked around you. The girl next to you was dressed beautifully as usual. It surprised you how she could make all those weird elements feel so ordinary and pretty. You, on the other hand, struggled to pair the jeans and a top. You barely figured out which shoes went with the dress. You felt underdressed. Her father wore a suit, and she had an elegant short blazer which matched her trousers, paired up with heels and a matching purse. You had a phone in your hand and a tote bag with your pajamas for the night. And a jacket to keep you warm. It didn't go with the outfit you had poorly put together at all. You wanted to run back home and wear something more fitting for the house you'll be staying in for a day or two.
You were in it once. You felt ridiculously small inside it. The ceilings were so high, dazzling chandeliers hanging from them. The windows were tall and in a minimalistic style. You only wondered how much time it took to clean them. They had all sorts of things you thought were unnecessary. Like a pool. The beach was just fifteen minutes away, the pool was there just to show off. So many bedrooms also had you confused. Since Spring, only two people live there now; your friend and her father. The mother filed for a divorce as she found love in a tourist from Poland. Poor Mr Park.
"Let's go," your friend finally put the phone away.
It took you a few moments to take in all the differences that were made. The portrait of a woman and a child above the fireplace was now gone and replaced with one of the man you just met and a young lady in which you found a sister 3 years ago.
"Anyone want my famous fig cheese prosciutto bites?" The man held a silver plate full of the said bites in front of the girls.
"No, dad, disgusting. Fruit and meat?"
"Growing up this spoiled one would think your taste in food would get better. Chicken nuggets don't really pass as an appetiser meal."
You watch with amusement as the two exchange a few funny grimaces, before your friend makes her way towards her room. "You eat some of that, since I know damn well you didn't eat shit today."
"I so did."
"You're so lying, bitch."
You laugh, ready to throw the word right back at her, when you feel Mr Park's gaze on you.
"Cuss her out all you want. It is none of my business."
"No, no. It's not quite appropriate for someone to talk like that."
In front of you, you add in your mind.
He hums, then smiles at you. "Bite?"
"I'd love to."
It takes only an eyebrow raise from him to let you know that you could've worded it better.
"I mean, I'd love one."
You take one from the plate, then admire it. Were you supposed to shove the whole thing in your mouth? Maybe pull it apart and eat it in rows? Bite into it?
"I don't usually try to poison my daughter's friends, doll. Just enjoy it. If we don't eat these tonight, they will go bad and I'll have to throw them away."
The little nickname slip had your toes wiggling in your shoes. He is so effortlessly breathtaking. Seeing that you're still struggling with the food, he takes one bite in his hand. He removes the toothpick holding the ingredients together, then steps towards you.
Every thought you had in your mind until then disappeared. Park Seonghwa gently cupped your lower jaw, and you relax into his touch. You look straight into his eyes as he puts the food between your lips. When you fail to move on your own, he smirks with amusement. Two fingers gently push the food into your mouth, resting on your tongue for a split second.
"Can you chew that for me?"
You feel your core throb. You feel fragile and weak under his touch. Most of all, you feel horny for your friend's dad. You remember to blink, then start chewing on the delicious food. He does not avert his eyes as you do so. Once you made sure to chew enough times, you finally swallow. A satisfied smile decorated his face as his thumb caressed your cheek, hand still cupping your jaw.
"Good girl."
You think you see stars. Park Seonghwa has an impact nobody ever had on you. And lots of them tried. Park Seonghwa didn't even need to try. He just - existed.
The man lets go of your face, then silently makes his way towards his room. At least you assume it is his room. He walked away so calmly, almost making you think you imagined what had just happened. Your face suddenly feels empty and cold without his touch. He had you in a chokehold with a simple touch and a smile.
You almost forget about your best friend waiting in her room. You hope your blushing won't betray you. After all, she must be tired of people wanting to fuck her dad.
Your conversations and jokes don't stop until after midnight. By now, you've had a stand-up show, a few episodes of your favorite TV show, a few funny clips of your favorite artists, and a fashion show. You are exhausted, almost ready for bed. Almost. You still need to get the frustration out somehow. The younger girl is more than ready for bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was out of this world. You laugh at her smeared makeup, then reach for the box of wet wipes. You gently clean her face, then try to do her usual routine. You don't remember it, but you try your best.
You make your way to her tall mirror, ready to clean your face too. If your best friend didn't study and work with fashion, she would surely be a makeup artist. It's a pity that you have to wipe down the art she created. Your hands fall down, and your eyes skim over your outfit and hair. She made you wear the brand new lingerie she got for her birthday as a joke. It was funny when they were in her hands, but you'll never forget the gasp that came out of her when you stepped out of the big wardrobe.
"Wanna scissor?"
You'd be up to try it, just not with her. Not while you have her dad on your mind. Perhaps- perhaps you could suddenly get thirsty and go to the kitchen dressed like that? The lingerie was now hidden under a short silver silk dress she wore for her ex boyfriend's birthday party. It looked plain and stupid, but the young girl had the power to turn it into something jaw dropping. Paired with silver heels and dazzling makeup, you looked ready for, well, someone to destroy it.
You open the door, then slowly step in the hallway. The girl explained that Mr Park's room is at the end of the hallway, but you cannot just walk in and expect something to happen. Maybe he simply liked teasing. Maybe he never responds to all those calls for pleasure. He is surely aware of what an impact he has on people, and maybe he finds it amusing. You still have a shot to see for yourself.
You drink a glass of water. Then another one. He isn't here. He must be asleep already. He is a hard working man after all. All this didn't come into his life easily. God, good looking and hard-working? He must be the whole package. Who in their right mind would leave a man like this? Perhaps she couldn't keep up with his sex drive. You hope.
You set the glass aside, and examine the kitchen again. Many drinks decorated the shelves, along with luxurious looking glasses and other glass decorations. You could only dream of having a home like this. You could probably afford a single spoon from the bottom drawer. You just couldn't wait to meet your soul mate and force your brilliant ideas on them. After all, you have a gift for that. Decorating, I mean. Not the forcing part.
You feel less sleepy now that you've drank so much water. You wander around the living room for a while, hoping he would come down at any moment. Yet it still doesn't happen. Your feet carry you to the door near the staircase. You slowly open it, then look around. With your luck, he will come down now that you are snooping around his home. He better stay asleep now.
You step inside, debating whether to turn on the lights. Fuck it, you think. Your hand finds the light switch on the cold wall. You squint at the sudden brightness. It takes a while for your eyes to get used to it, but when they do, all you can do is gasp.
The walls were covered with antique bookshelves, each filled with books from top to bottom. They were divided in sections, and they had the most beautiful covers and spines you've ever seen. You step inside, closing the door behind. The room was endless rows of fantasy, sci-fi, romance, poetry, educational books, and-
Erotica.
Fuck, lots of erotica. A whole wall, maybe even two, dedicated to the sinful delight. You didn't even need to check if you're right. You'd recognise some of those spines even in darkness. A single desk is placed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking chair. Pens and notebooks are neatly placed in the top corner, and a book rests at the edge. A suit jacket, most probably Mr Park's, is placed over the backrest. The room was organised, clean, and smelled like sandalwood mixed with jasmine. It was pleasant enough to just stand there. Yet the curiosity got the best (or worst) of you, as it always did.
The smell of books takes over your senses. You feel the worn out spines and edges under your fingertips. He has them all: from the very first romance novels with the very first sex scenes to steamy books who had sex written all over them. You weren't sure which ones you liked more. You only knew that you'd settle for anything just to get a little taste.
Your gaze falls on the book which laid on the desk. His most recent read, perhaps? It still had a bookmark, you notice. You sit on the chair, and almost sink into it from the softness. You close your eyes, inhaling all the scents you can. You sense a hint of bourbon. Even his scent makes your lower stomach burn with unreleased sensation.
You take the book into your hands, then turn it over. The summary made your curiosity even worse, and you could forget about sleep for at least two more hours. You lean back, put your feet on the desk, and happily start with the book. It has a plot, of course, but currently? You couldn't give a single fuck about it. But you aren't one to skip pages just to get to a certain point in the story. So you force yourself to read through the little boring descriptions. In the corner of your eye, you spot a box of tissues peeking out of the bottom drawers. You see no other chairs around here. It means that nobody enters the room.
A man and a box of tissues mean only one thing.
You sigh at the picture that forms in your head. You see Mr Park sitting on the chair. He is wearing his suit vest, a book in his hand and legs spread comfortably. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, which you know is thick. Your eyes have dropped down there once or twice. He is lazily stroking himself, his attention still fully on the book. There is just something so fucking hot about watching a man satisfy himself.
You feel your throat go dry. You open your eyes, ready to put the book away and try to go to sleep. Yet the plot has just started to get steamy. You sit back once again, the book in your hand not getting any rest tonight. Your eyes skim over the hot descriptions, each making you more flustered. The thought of Park Seonghwa reading this is driving you crazy.
Nicholas has waited for this moment for months, yet it felt like years to him. He would use every second of it, and he will be the best she ever had.
He worshipped her all night long, explored her body with his tongue, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and grabbed at anything he could. He devoured her, his wet muscle tirelessly working on her sensitive bud. Her cries of pleasure had him cumming in his own pants, yet he didn't care. He existed for her, and her only.
Was it too much to ask for a simple eating out? You wonder how it feels. You had one, a long time ago. Along with a messy first time. God, the second time might've been ever messier. None of it was enjoyable. You too wanted to be manhandled. You too wanted to be worshipped. You wanted someone to tirelessly eat you out until you cream. And scream.
You groan. Continuing will do you no good, but going to sleep is impossible. You could rub out a quick one and then try to rest. Wouldn't be your first time. You feel yourself dripping through your panties. All these descriptions have your head spinning. You reach for the box of tissues. The last thing you needed was to leave evidence that you snooped around. If you're going to leave one, it better not be an arousal stain on the chair.
You pull the drawer so you can take the box out easier. If your jaw could drop to the floor, it probably would. Deeper in the drawer laid a purple gadget. You knew very well what it was. You were never brave enough to get one for yourself. Your parents liked to snoop a lot, and just now you realise where you got it from. He didn't use it on anyone, did he? Your friend did not mention any women near Mr Park. Besides, it feels good for men too.
You carefully take out the wand. It looks brand new, the see through film still wrapped around the head. It could help you out. You'd be finished even quicker. Nobody will ever know. You cannot afford it anymore anyway, so wasting an opportunity like this seems like a shame to you.
You put each leg over the armrests, then lay back comfortably. You press a button. The buzzing sound has your stomach filled with excitement. You resume the reading, the wand dangerously close to your crotch. You didn't remove the film, nor will you remove the panties. If someone barges in, you can throw it in the drawer and act stupid.
You bring the buzzing device closer, and closer, until it finally touches your burning clit. A gasp leaves your lips, the first vibrations giving you the satisfaction you needed. You try to focus on the words, yet the toy feels so good against you that you choose to drop the book and enjoy. You throw your head back, sighs and hums leaving your mouth as you work the toy on your clit. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of a single man. He is so close, yet so far. The scent from his vest is helping you get a clearer picture. He is skillfully working his fingers on you, filling you up just right and licking your juices off his hand so sinfully.
You groan. The vibrations are strong against you, and you don't think you can take it. You are not used to it. Fingers will have to do. You blindly search for the button. When you fail to find it, you open your eyes.
"Fuck-"
The rest of the words come out muffled. A hand is placed over your lips, and another one is covering yours on the wand. You shamelessly stare into the eyes of the man you want to fuck so bad. Judging by his gaze, you think he shares the idea. Without a single word, he presses the toy back into your clit. You sigh into his hand, head falling back and your back arching. You try to close your eyes, but a slap to your inner thigh makes you jump.
"Look at me."
You do as you are told. He does not avert his gaze, not even when you beg him to stop. You are feeling overstimulated, even though you did not orgasm.
"Found yourself a book to read?" He asks, eyes falling on it.
You nod. Now you know why the scent was stronger in the room. How long was he there?
"Come here."
He removes his hand from your face. You are taken aback by his demands. It is turning you on even more. With a single swipe, he drops all the pens and notebooks from the desk on the floor.
"You like wearing cute little dresses and parading around the house?"
"I wasn't-"
"I didn't say I didn't enjoy it." He licks his lips. His hands cup your waist, and you feel your body rise up. He places you on the desk, then rests his hands on your knees. In the most erotic way ever, he looks deep into your eyes, then gently spreads your legs. You want to melt into his arms right there. Mr Park steps between your thighs, hands resting on your cheeks.
"You look so innocent. So pretty for me to ruin."
You say nothing. Instead, you get closer to him. You wish to feel his lips. You wish to feel his tongue in many places.
"But you are far from innocent, aren't you? Probably the biggest slut I've ever met."
"Sir-"
"I don't fuck my daughter's friends, you know."
He places a hand on your chest, gently pushing you to lay down on the desk. He climbs on it with one knee, hand still caressing your cheek.
"Didn't promise anything about best friends though."
His lips hover above yours for a while. He is making it painful for you. He is making you beg. And you are ready to go down on your knees for him.
"I want to fucking ruin you, doll. I want to do all the things you've read about." He whispers into your mouth. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, accidentally touching yours too. "I want to pound into you as you read your favorite book and struggle to focus. I want to tear you apart right on this desk."
You moan at his words. You swear you could cum from his dirty talk only.
"Will you let me get a taste of you?"
You nod eagerly. He chuckles, then presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. He is looking into your eyes in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together so you can get some friction.
"I need to hear you, love."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"I'll let you get a taste of me," you repeat. It didn't sound as hot as when he said it. It didn't matter anyway.
Time passed so slow. You had an orgasm to chase, yet Park Seonghwa wouldn't move a single finger.
"Will you let me smear that pretty makeup of yours?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Will you let me stuff you with my cock like a good girl?"
"Y-yes, Sir," you breathe out. The formality is only adding up to the mood. First names are outdone anyway.
"And will you do as I say?"
"Yes," you nod, "yes I will. Anything."
"Anything?" He asks, his eyebrow raised.
"Anything, Sir."
Just when you think he is going to press his lips against yours, he reaches for something behind you. He holds the book in front of you, signaling you to take it.
"Read for me."
Read? It's erotica, not a bedtime story. Yet how can you say no when he asked you so nicely. You clear your throat, then continue where you left off.
"Nicholas held her thighs down to keep her from squirming. His tongue lapped at her clit without stopping. She begged, and begged for - oh!"
The buzzing device is spreading sensation on your clit. You look over the book, and find Mr Park focusing on the space between your legs. He is lazily dragging the wand across your crotch, occasionally pressing into the sensitive bud.
"Keep going," he ordered.
"S-she begged, and begged for more. She had cummed twice on his tongue already. Yet he didn't have enough. He wanted to watch her shake in his arms, beg ‐ ah, ‐ beg for him to stop. Nicholas then inserts his fingers into her, the tips searching for the sweet spot which - f‐fuck - had her groaning with pleasure."
The speed is increased, and your thighs are shaking. You think you're close already.
"I don't think I can handle it much longer." You say.
"I didn't ask."
With that, he increases the speed, this time dragging the toy more forcefully on your crotch. You could spill over the edge at any moment. You want to orgasm with his fingers, not a stupid toy.
"The books isn't going to read itself."
"She held onto his hair for dear life. The pressure was building up at the bottom, and- ah, fuck ‐ and, and-"
"And?"
"I'm going to cum," you cry out.
"I don't remember that being in that scene yet."
"Please-"
"Read."
Your eyes fall back on the words. You just want to lay down and enjoy. Why does he enjoy teasing so much? It's not as fun as it looks or sounds.
"‐and she could feel herself cumming all over his face once again."
You lower the book, just enough so you can look at him. He is focused on his movements. His long, slender fingers are gently pressing your thigh against the wooden surface, while his other hand is working the toy on you. The vibrations change speed and strength, and that's what's keeping you from finishing right in front of him. His tongue wets his lips again, and his lips stay open. He lets out shallow breaths as he watches you clench around nothing.
"Look at you, shamelessly dripping on my work desk." He says, his voice low and raspy. He looks into your eyes, right before he lifts the toy.
He does not break eye contact with you. He climbs on the desk again, spreading your legs with his own and resting his hand on your exposed lower stomach. His hand is hot against your skin. You are ready to give yourself to him in any way.
"You like the book so far?"
"Yes, Sir."
He drags his hand up your stomach, lifting your dress along the way. He takes his sweet time, doing nothing but giving you goosebumps and making your breathing harder. The dress is now scrunched above your breasts, your friend's brand new lingerie completely exposed to his big pupils. It was an ugly colour, but somehow, Mr Park seemed astonished by the view.
"Ah, fuck."
You feel your bra being yanked down, and right after that a warm wet muscle circling over your tense nipples. A gasp leaves your mouth. Then another, and another, with each lick he generously gives you. He squeezes your breasts, massages them, works his tongue on them like it's the most delicious meal in the world. You swear you could orgasm just from this.
Mr Park allows himself to get a bit vocal. He hums around your nipples, gently sucking at them and squeezing the soft flesh around them. He enjoys your squirming under him. He enjoys your moans and gasps. He enjoys your fingers pulling his hair. Most of all, he enjoys how you lift your thighs up and try to meet his crotch, in hopes of getting more relief down there.
He lifts his head from your sensitive breasts, and gets closer to your face. His breathing is heavy against your mouth, and you can almost feel his heart thumping against your chest.
"Tell me, what is your favorite scene from the book?"
"What?" You ask, confused as to why he is insisting on reading and talking about the book.
"You heard me," he speaks into your mouth. He is so close, yet he doesn't dare touch your lips. It's making you extremely frustrating. You wanted to taste the lips that spoke sinful words. You want all of him.
"Well, I kinda liked the first time he fingered her."
"Did you now?" He acts interested. His eyebrow is raised with amusement because of your utter confusion.
"Yeah, I mean, it was hot as fuck. Him fingering her right there in the corner of the club? I swear I'd — oh."
His finger dips inside of you with ease. Your walls swallow it, clench around it, and feel warm against it. Mr Park is lets out a groan. Still, he continues, still looking into your eyes. "What exactly did he do?"
"He made out with her. And fingered her."
"That's all?"
His finger is not moving. It sits there comfortably, enjoying the warmth of your pussy. He licks his lips for the third time that night. He is fighting every urge inside him to just slam his cock into you and ruin you on the table. He wants to enjoy everything you want to give him.
"H-he—" your eyes roll back as he gently presses his finger upwards, "he uses one finger first, to get her used to it. He fingers her slow, and- and‐"
The man slowly pulls out, then equally slowly goes back in. He repeats the motion, and each time it seems slower to you. It is more intense, but you don't think you have the patience.
"He inserts another finger, to stretch her out. He speeds up a bit, and asks her- ah, fuck, asks her if it feels good."
Mr Park leans into your ear. "Does it feel good?"
"Oh, fuck yes."
You feel another finger stretching you our, then another. He watches as his fingers disappear between your tight walls, preparing you so well for him. He speeds up his pace. The sounds of his palm slamming against your pelvis along with your cunt making wet noises is making you arch your back from the table. You shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands grabbing at his shoulders, hair, face, anything.
You are pulled away from the world of ecstasy. You find yourself sitting up straight, your wrists caught in his hand. You are ready to whine about being so close, yet he stops you by pulling you off the desk. The dress falls down your body, covering it once again. The man pulls you off the table, and in a split second, he has you slammed against the bookshelves. You are ready to complain, but he stops you by slamming his palms against the shelves near your head. He looks at you, as if asking if you still want it. You respond by getting closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he captures your lips with his, hungrily sucking on them and biting them. His tongue is gentle against yours, giving it light strokes and circles. Your fingers find themselves tangled into his hair, then down his neck, shoulders, until they finally rest on his chest. He stops your hands from unbuttoning his snow white shirt. He pulls away too quickly for your liking.
You stare with surprise as he drops down on his knees. Fuck, you love the way he looks at you from down there. His fingers graze the skin of your thighs, then gently lift up the dress.
"Hold that for me." He orders in a whisper. You quickly obey, grabbing the material and holding it above your lower stomach. "Then what happened?"
"The guy took her outside, behind the club. He made her stand against the wall, much like me now. And then—"
You now realise what he is doing. He is recreating the scenes you have just read. He is fulfilling your fantasy. He is doing just what you always wanted, and he doesn't even know it. A sudden boost of confidence enters your body. You could drop a few lines that weren't in the book. He wouldn't notice now, would je?
"He ate her out."
"Did he?" He asks, voice dripping with horny thoughts said out loud. "And just how did he do that?"
"He licked every inch of her skin, explored every curve and bump, and sucked on a specific spot."
The man smirks, then pokes his tongue out. You finally get a chance to see exactly how long it is. He licks a warm stripe over your folds and clit. Your knees are wobbly, and you wish you could've stayed sat down. His hands are gripping you thighs, buttocks, and the back of your knees. He is fully focused into absolutely ravishing you.
He mercilessly licks your clit, each swipe making you more sensitive. He works it up and down, then in circles, then flattens the wet muscle so that he can take in all of you. He makes lewd noises, almost slurping at your arousal and folds.
"So heavenly," he groans. He hums as he speeds up his tongue against your clit.
Short moans leave your mouth, and you find yourself gripping your nipples over the shiny fabric. You pull and squeeze his hair between your finger, and you think you'll choke him with your thighs. He doesn't complain once.
"I'm close—" you whimper, white dots already appearing in front of your eyes.
It was as if you said "stop". He stands up, hand resting on your jaw. He lifts your head to look at him. His lips are glistening with your arousal, and you think it's the hottest thing ever. He dips his thumb and index finger into your cheeks, making you hollow them and open your mouth. He leans in, and just when you think he is about to kiss you, two fingers find themselves resting on your tongue. He proceeds to push them back, right at the end of your tongue. You tear up, but don't gag. He is very distracting with his stare.
You close your lips around his fingers, tongue circling around them and wetting them. He takes them out, puts them in his own mouth. He steps back for a bit, and you carefully follow his every movement. He rips the fabric of his shirt, and buttons drop down on the floor. The sight has you dripping down your legs. You don't get a chance to say much, he pushes you against the desk, this time with you facing the surface. You feel the wet digits spread your folds. You then feel a wet trail rolling down your pussy.
Did he—? Did he spit directly on your pussy?
You hear the belt unbuckling, then fabric shuffling. Something hot touches your other cheeks, gently caressing them and leaving a trail of precum. His hand reaches near you, taking the book and opening it where you marked it. It then cups your neck, gently pressing the sides of it just enough to make you dizzy.
"Read for me, doll."
"But-"
He leans down, feeling a bit annoyed at all your protests. "Read for me so I can stuff you with my cock in peace."
You have no other choice but to continue. You feel him circling your folds, but not touching you where you need it.
"Nicholas couldn't believe how long it had been since he last felt her. He pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. His hips forcefully connected with hers— ah!"
You feel him stretch you out. The sweet burning sensation is back, this time actually pleasant. He fills you to the end, hands tightly holding onto your waist and neck. He pulls out, just to slam back into you, much like Nicholas.
"He watched her tits bounce with every hip thrust he m-made, a sight for sore eyes. He fondled her nipples, listened to her moans and watched her face twist wit-th pleasure—"
His hands move your body towards him, making him reach spots that have you gripping the edge of the desk.
"Please let me enjoy this, Mr Park. Oh please, let me."
He pulls your hair, making your back arch and your head fall back. He looks at you from above, hips still working their pace.
"You're saying you're not", thrust, "enjoying this?"
"No, I just—"
"I spoiled you," thrust, "in such a," thrust, "short," thrust, "time."
He proceeds to thrust a few times faster, then slows down. He fucks you nice and gentle, occasionally letting out a grunt or a hiss. He goes deep, making you roll your eyes.
"Look at me," he pulls your hair more.
You whimper, the pleasant pain spreading over your body.
"Look at your pretty makeup running down your cheeks."
He wasn't lying when he said he is going to ruin you. He turns your body over with ease, and you wonder just how strong this man is. Mr Park lifts your legs on his shoulders, the position giving him more access to all the sweet spots. He slams into them with no mercy, abuses every weak spot you have, and fills your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet. They don't help much, since you are equally loud even when he tries to make you gag.
"Want me to fill you up like a stuffed toy?"
"Please," you manage to beg.
Your eyes roll back from pleasure, and you are feeling like you're floating. You are so close, and if he cums inside you, you will cum right then. Mr Park is now moaning. His hands are gripping your waist, slamming your weaker body into his hips. Sweat is decorating his exposed body, and his hair is sticking up everywhere. Watching him focus on chasing his high is something you'll always remember with love. He is progressively getting sloppier and louder, and you just can't wait to see him cum.
You are squeezing and milking him so well, he could go all night long with you. He lets out a prolonged moan as he spills into you, hips still working in and out. You follow after, the feeling of warm seed touching the right places.
"Fuck—" you moan, moving your hips and riding out your high.
The man drops on top of you, cock still deep inside.
You notice the windows are foggy, and the smell of sex is more than present in the room. You don't want to move. You want more. It just isn't enough.
"Ah fuck, I could go for a second round." He admits.
"I can handle it."
"But I can't so please go to sleep or go fuck outside."
Shit.
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