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pseudowho · 5 months

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Ditch the Party

Nanami Kento hates parties; but the drinks? They make him...bold.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Nanami Kento is a horny drunk, just regular old smut here

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"Just...promise me you'll behave tonight," you beseeched Kento as you pressed your earrings into place. You saw Kento lean back into the bathroom on his way out, bristling, indignant. Your nose twitched in amusement as he caught your eye in the mirror, looking stern.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied stiffly. You scoffed.

"You absolutely do," you countered, turning, your hand on his chest. Looking him up and down, in a slim black suit and burgundy shirt, tie-less, you felt outdone.

As you leaned back on the bathroom counter, Kento's eyes had a naughty twinkle as he leaned down towards you. Your eyes narrowed with a smile of warning, and you pressed one finger to his lips. Tapping his nose as he opened his mouth to bite your finger, you reminded him.

"Come on, big guy. We'll be late. The taxi guy's probably sick of waiting for us." You slithered past Kento, feeling his fingers brush your waist for the barest of moments, as you gripped his hand and pulled him towards the door.

In the taxi, Kento gazed at the city lights, considering his life choices; "Why are we going to a party this evening? We don't even like parties." You laughed, reapplying your lipstick in a mirror.

"We don't, it's true. But it's a big birthday for my uncle, and we promised," you wheedled. Kento grunted his disapproval beside you. Your eyes narrowed at him again; "And, it's a family friendly event, so..."

Kento looked at you again, innocent but challenging. He let your statement hang; this time, it was you who was bristling, indignant.

The party had already begun by the time you arrived; held at your aunt and uncle's home, a warm orange glow and thrum of conversation spilled out from the kitchen to the garden, deep green hedges flickering with torchlights and tiny twinkling fairy lights. The music was low, the conversation easy and audible above it. A barbeque puffed out woody smoke. Drinks were flowing freely. You sighed as you approached, relieved.

"See? It's the good kind of party," you pressed, squeezing Kento's hand reassuringly. He sighed, unable to argue with you, reassuring you with a gentle smile that you didn't need to babysit him all evening for fear of him having a dreadful time in the company of others.

While Kento headed in to fetch drinks, you greeted family and friends. Kento returned soon after, with a large gin and tonic for you, and a larger whiskey for him. He slipped an arm firmly round your waist, pulling you flush to him as he planted a kiss to your forehead.

The night wore on, the conversation lubricated by alcohol, and small, tipsy groups milled around the garden fires. As food was served, an elderly aunt approached, and asked Kento how he was enjoying the meal.

"It's delicious, thank you," he replied low and smooth before leaning into your ear, whispering, "it almost tastes as good as yo--"

"I'm sorry, dear?" Kento leaned up, all smiles to your elderly aunt, as you blushed from your ears to your toes.

"I said, it tastes almost as good as your cooking, auntie," he lied and she chirped, flattered, patting him on the arm with a smile. Your auntie headed away, and you spun to Kento with a look of warning. He completely ignored you, honeyed eyes glowing in the firelight.

Eyes narrowing at him, you headed over to the table to fetch Kento a glass of water, and almost immediately felt him cage you against the table from behind, his sculpted shoulders leaning past you to rest on his knuckles on the tablecloth. You felt his warm, whiskey breath against your neck.

"We could always bend you over this table," he murmured, as you felt a throb of lust in your belly, "and see how hard we could make it shake." As you spun, still caged by Kento's arms, a family friend approached just beside you and offered you and Kento an uncertain smile. Kento plucked your hair clip off the table from behind you, holding it up with a cunning smile.

"There it is, darling," he said warmly, the family friend now less uncertain, "I told you we'd find it." The family friend left, and you hissed up at him.

"Kento. Behave." He fixed you with a look of faux-innocence as he stood, finishing his whiskey.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, smiling at your uncle, wishing him a happy birthday as he passed, and then leaned over you again, pulling you close to his chest as he rumbled, eyes hooded and glinting, "but then, you never do make much sense when I'm fucking you until you can't see straight."

You groaned against his chest, hand over your eyes, mortified. You heard your aunt gently asking Kento if you were alright.

"She's fine," he chuckled, "can't handle her drinks, I think." Your aunt cooed, sharing a joke with Kento, and you gaped up at Kento, who accepted another drink from your uncle, utterly shameless.

"Kento," you hissed again, "you are just a--"

"Menace?" He rumbled, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering, "I could be. Just give me a bit of time, and something to tie you up with, and--"

Your mother came over, greeting you both, and you were forced to play drunk, you were so flushed at this point, babysat by Kento as he rolled his eyes fondly at you and made small talk.

Kento slipped his hand lower and lower behind you as he talked with your mother, and you felt his long fingers trace your thigh, surreptitiously climbing upwards beneath your skirt to graze your arse, before creeping round again and you felt his fingers brush softly against your fol--

You squeaked, jumping, your drink sloshing over your toes. Kento flapped a hand above your head.

"Just a moth," he reassured you and your mother. Your mother gave your burning cheek a kiss. Kento waited just long enough for your mother to leave, before looping an arm round your waist, pulling you into the shadows, behind hedges further down the garden. You squeaked with alarm. Kento drained both of your drinks, and unceremoniously abandoned the glasses in a bush, before pulling you onto a sheltered bench by your uncle's koi carp pond.

You were thrumming with embarrassment at this point, and leapt off the bench, mortified by Kento's utter shamelessness and alcohol-loosened tongue, ready to chew him out...but...

Kento sat on the bench, legs spread wide in his tight black trousers, thick, toned arms stretched out across the back of the bench. He looked deeply into your eyes, chiselled face dramatised in the shadows. Slowly reaching a hand out, he pinched the top of your skirt, pulling you in between his spread legs, strong and determined.

"We don't like parties," he toned, low and sultry, as you were pulled into his lap, "but we do like it when you ride me until our clothes are ruined."

Kento grabbed your thighs, forcing your skirt up to your waist and parting your legs around his lap. He hesitated, changing his mind and lifting you off him briefly. With no argument, he stripped off your underwear, pressing it to his nose and breathing in with a groan and a shiver, eyes closed in ecstasy. You hissed to him again, terrified of being found, arse and pussy open to the world--

Kento pulled you back down to straddle his lap again, sinking his hand into the back of your hair and tipping your head back as he ran his tongue and teeth against your throat.

"Nobody else will be able to see that wet little pussy of yours...if it's as close as I want it." Slipping two fingers between your legs, Kento rubbed your clit in tight little circles, and you felt hard and fast pangs of pleasure through you as you trembled, gripping Kento's shoulders desperately.

"Someone will hear, Kento--" he bit your neck in warning, squeezing your arse hard as he moaned, shivering as he continued to press hard against your clit.

"Well then be quiet, my love." You mewled, muffling your face into his neck, quaking as his clever fingers dragged you to orgasm, stimulating you hard and fast until your thighs shook, and his hand was wet with your arousal.

Kento's eyes were dark and determined now, single-minded as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, solid and weeping pre-cum against his belly as he stroked it, lubricating himself with your cum. Locking his arms behind your back, he lifted you and slammed your sensitive pussy down onto himself, bottoming out immediately.

You shrieked, and Kento clapped a hand over your mouth, nipping your lips as he shot you a lustful, playful look. Hands then locked behind your hips again, he lifted you up and down with wet slaps, immediately seeing stars with the relentless pace, chasing your pussy with his hips as he bucked.

You gasped, breathless against his neck as his cock bullied into you, pliable and shaking as Kento groaned into you, unashamedly loud-- "harder," he insisted, increasing the pace with his hands clenching the fat of your hips, "harder."

His mouth pressed to yours, kisses hot and smoky with whiskey as he nipped at your bottom lip, his groans deep and guttural as he felt your pussy clench around him while you held onto his lapels, mewling, tipsy, completely fucked senseless, as promised.

Feeling the trembling of your plush walls around him (the nerves of his cock already electrified by the alcohol) had Kento reeling and he came, whimpering into your mouth as he ground your hips against his, bottomed out and warm shots of cum spurting directly against your cervix.

You both shook, tangled and sweaty, spent, while Kento chuckled and you slapped him on the chest. You heard voices approach; your uncle, excited to show someone his prized koi carp.

Kento threw you onto the bench beside him as you yanked down your skirt, and Kento zipped himself up, putting an arm around your shoulders.

Your uncle arrived, "Oh, hey kids! Enjoying my carp-- whose are those?"

Kento coughed delicately, eyeing your forgotten underwear at the side of the pond; "No idea," he said, coolly, "they were here when we arrived."

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Infiltration, Chapter 5: Breaking Point, IS coming this weekend as promised...but in the meantime

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i23kazu · 5 months

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♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

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shotmrmiller · 2 months

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absolutely not a smoker but

imagine stepping out of that rowdy pub you tend to visit with your friends. The chilly evening air cooling your overheated skin.

The place can get a little too lively, sometimes you have to step out to take a breather. Or a smoke break, like in this instance.

Placing the lit cigarette in the corner of your mouth, you lean back against the brick wall of the establishment, feeling the cold seep through your jacket. Tipping your head back, you gaze at the night sky; shimmering specks of light scattered across the deep darkness, with the full moon gently illuminating the surroundings.

And then the pub doors squeal as they swing open, but you keep your eyes up and away.

Gravel crunches under the person's feet as they walk. Only for those footsteps to get closer to you.

God fucking damnit. You don't want to talk to anyone right now- your social battery is currently charging.

Exhaling softly, you close your eyes and open them as you turn to look at whoever is approaching and... the cigarette almost slips from your fingers from the fright.

A man that's a head taller than most, shoulders too broad, chest like a barrel. His thigh was the size of both of yours pressed together. He wore all black- the leather jacket creased around where the sleeves and where the elbow crooks. Well-worn but still in good condition.

But what almost sent your heart into failure was the skull balaclava mask he wore over his face.

Fucking hell, why is he staring at you like that?

Tapping the smoke with your pointer, you place it back in your mouth and pull the sides of your open jacket over your midsection, crossing your arms after.

"Can I help you?"

His response is immediate. "Bum a cig off ya?" he asks, a mancunian accent heavy on his tongue.

Shrugging to yourself, you shake the box and offer him the one, which he takes without even a thank you.

Ingrate.

"Got a match?"

Wordlessly, the lighter clicks once and a weak flame comes out of it. Only to get snuffed by the crisp breeze. Your thumb rotates the spark wheel once again, but this time you cup your hand around the pathetic little fire.

It holds long enough, so you watch him pull the mask up just enough to put the smoke in between his thin, chapped lips and lean forward to the lighter in your hands.

A warm puff of air extinguishes the flame.

His dark eyes cut to you- dark, nondescript. You flick the tip of your cigarette with your tongue in frustration.

Then his gaze wanders to the dim, orange glow on the other end. "Bum the light, then."

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline but otherwise do as he says- rising to the tiptoes, and draw in a steady breath, the burning end flaring.

His face gets too close to what anyone would deem appropriate, getting a real good view of his unfairly long, wispy ash-brown lashes that framed his eyes.

The furl of smoke begins to rise, stinging your nose, and he finally straightens, the lit cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

The silence after is comfortable, just two complete and utter strangers having a smoke.

Tossing the filter to the ground, you step on it and crush it with your heel as exhale the remnants of it. A small wave his way and you head back inside.

If you'd paid any sort of attention, you would've noticed that the smoke that came out of his mouth was too thick, concentrated. As if it just sat there, instead of going through his lungs.

He gives it 3 more minutes before putting out his own, nearly full cig under his boot and following right behind you.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 months

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WAYS TO DESTRESS

summary: after a long day, all coriolanus wants to do is blow some steam off. nothing will stop him from getting what he wants…not even your sleepy state

pairing: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, somnophilia, dub non-con, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy spanking, belly bulge (?), LISTEN I KNOW ITS UNLIKELY BUT LET ME BE UNHINGED, a bit rough nothing too crazy, get your holy water though, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please)

a/n: this came to me the moment i opened my eyes this morning. pure filth. i shouldn't be proud but i am. goes to show how much coriolanus is plaguing my thoughts day and night. my new little hyperfixation. a new villain to add to my collection <3

PT. 2

requests open ✨

All Coriolanus feels is anger. It's been pumping through his veins throughout most of the day, almost causing him to lose his composure at all the wrong places. He can never afford to fuck up. He already did it once, and second chances are nonexistent in the Capitol.

He owes a lot to Dr. Gaul. After all, she saw the value in Coriolanus. She saw right through him and his faux kindness and unearthed his true wickedness. He simply needed a nudge in the right direction.

While working for with her is an honor, it is hardly easy. Like all aspects of his life, he's had to adapt to how she runs her lab. Coriolanus is hardly a follower; he's a leader, but as long as he remains under the tutelage of Dr. Gaul, he will have to follow her orders. Which means he has to talk when spoken to and perform how she expects him to.

There are days when it all becomes too much. His pride rises to the surface, forcing him to stifle it as best as he can before he does something he regrets.

He has to think of the scrutinizing gaze of his peers waiting for him to fail. As much as they pretend to be his friend, they want him to make a mistake so they can rise to the occasion. He won't allow that.

His apartment is silent when he steps in. The lavish decor is obscured by the lack of illumination. It's to be expected, seeing it's well past midnight.

Leaving his coat by the door, Coriolanus walks towards the bedroom. He needs to destress now, or he'll carry all his anger and frustration on his shoulders for the rest of the week. He can't have that. He can't lose control and look bad in front of Dr. Gaul and the others.

In the master bedroom, he finds you lying on the soft mattress, tangled in the silky bedsheets. He watches your chest rise and fall with gentle breaths, your pouty lips slightly ajar. It's a shame he's going to disturb your sleep, but he needs to let off some steam. That's one of the numerous reasons he has his pretty little girlfriend.

Coriolanus unbuttons the red waistcoat and removes his shoes, leaving them in the armchair. As he approaches your side of the bed, he notices the bright orange bottle on the nightstand and your book thrown haphazardly on the floor.

It's rare for you to take sleep aid medication because you hate how they knock you out. You only take them when you've had a particularly rough day. It seems Coriolanus is not alone in this. Today has been bad for both you and him.

Still, his plan remains the same. Coriolanus leans over you, kissing your forehead gingerly before his lips continue to trail down to kiss your cheek and lips. You don't stir with the soft touches.

Coriolanus darkly chuckles. It's not often he gets to do this. He'll take it as a treat for his patience throughout the day. He'd say the universe is working in his favor if he believed in such silly things.

Having you so pliable and willing in his hands excites him to no end. Lying on the bed, he digs his head on your shoulder, leaving marks for you to find in the morning. It spurs him on to hear little gasps falling from your lips.

"Beautiful and all mine," he mutters into the silent room as he lowers down the thin straps of your night dress to reveal your chest.

Coriolanus takes his time with your body. Even while asleep, it responds to his touch. He sucks and squeezes on your breasts harshly, biting down on the stiff peaks of your nipples.

He's not as gentle this time around compared to other times in the past. Then, you were simply asleep; now, you're completely doped out. He will miss your whines and the way you berate him.

Coriolanus continues down your body until he settles between your legs. "Fuck, darling," he audible groans when he lifts up your nighty to find a patch on your panties. Who would've thought you'd be as responsive to him while asleep.

He gives into his urges as he presses his nose against your center, smelling your arousal and licking up the wet fabric with his tongue. He only parts for a moment as he roughly slides the thin fabric off.

With you like this, there is no reason to tease. He doesn't have to kiss your thighs or hold himself back. Coriolanus can truly delve into what he wants without a spectacle.

It's why he buries his tongue into your wet cunt as soon as he has the chance. He holds your limp thighs on his shoulders as he presses himself against you, his blue eyes closing in ecstasy at the taste.

Soft noises- moans- come from above him as you slightly stir in your drug-induced sleep. While Coriolanus suck on your pearl of nerves, he wonders what you're dreaming about and if he's the protagonist as well.

His hips roll onto the mattress underneath, soothing the ache on his cock. He could go straight to fucking you but wants this to last. He needs to keep his mind busy, and eating you out is the answer.

Unconsciously, you grind your cunt on his tongue, chasing your release. Coriolanus smiles at this and rewards you with fucking you with his tongue. He's determined to make you cum all over it.

"Oh," he hears you whine when his nose rubs on your sensitive clit. He knows you're close. He feels it in the way your thighs are suddenly clenching around him.

There is no doubt in his mind you're still asleep. If you were awake, you'd be gripping his hair like a vice and calling his name for everyone to hear. You'd be begging him to fuck you silly.

Coriolanus laps up your juices like a starving man when you cum. Despite living in poverty, he never felt the need to act in such a way until he tasted you for the first time. He treats his sweet little girlfriend's cunt like a delicacy.

He stops himself before he almost makes you cum again as he slurps and sucks on your cunt. From up close, he can see the way your clit twitches under the pleasure. He leaves a bruise that will turn purple by morning on the inside of your thigh. It'll be a telltale sign he was there, devouring you while you soundly slept. A reminder you're his to use whenever he pleases.

Taking the rest of his clothes off, Coriolanus returns to your sleeping body. He pumps his cock in his fist as he looks at all the bruises and marks he left behind, and you'll have to hide because you can't have him seem like a pervert in front of his classmates.

Kneeling on the bed, he wraps your legs around his hips. He teases your wet cunt with the fat head of his cock, nudging over your clit repeatedly. He continues this until his cock is slick with your juices. As an extra, he spits down on your cunt, spreading his saliva over you. Not because you need lubrication but because he likes the sight of him on you in every which way.

No matter how many times Coriolanus has fucked you throughout your two years of being together, he's always had trouble pushing his cock in. He has to take a deep breath when he bottoms out as your cunt tries to choke him out. It's one of his favorite things about you, a constant reminder of the day he took your innocence.

It's only when he begins rocking his hips into you that you give any indication of waking up.

"What?" You whine as panic settles into you. Your brain isn't working properly. You're hazy and confused. Not knowing where you are, you get scared, and your heart races.

Coriolanus holds your hands as you begin struggling. As he leans down to talk to you, he pins you down, leaving you impaled with his cock. He immensely enjoys the struggle but can't have you screaming out in panic.

"It's just me, darling," he coo's in your ear, nuzzling his nose against your face. It works as your heart begins settling down.

"Coryo?" You sniff with tears in your eyes as your panic is quickly swept away. You try to speak, but the pills leave your tongue heavy and your brain foggy.

"Yes, your Coryo," he responds, kissing your cheek sweetly.

You've stopped struggling and spread your legs once again, just how he likes it. He even feels you clenching down purposefully around Coriolanus' cock. You're no saint; you enjoy making it hard for him even in your drugged-out state.

"Relax, darling. Go back to sleep," he hushes you, softly rocking into you.

Your eyes are already closed as he utters the words. You have no choice in the matter. Granted, now you sleep calmer, knowing it's Coryo touching you and making you feel food.

Coriolanus calls your name once, twice, and there is no response. You're back with the sandman, peacefully asleep. He takes it as a sign to keep fucking you.

Kneeling back on the bed, Coriolanus brings up your thighs to touch your chest. Your pretty cunt is on full display, showcasing the hues of pink and glistening fluids that shine under the lowlights of the bedroom.

Coriolanus licks the pads on his fingers before they smack down on your center. The only way it'll look even better is if it had that familiar twinge of red. He aims for the center, straight at your pearl, and smacks his hand down several times.

It manages to wake you again, eyes hooded with sleep, staring at him and complaints falling from your lips. Each time the 'smack' reverberates and you flinch, he soothes the sting, spreading the clear strings of arousal that drip from your hole.

Only when your cunt is flushed red and your clit is puffed out of its fleshy covering, does he pull you down on his cock. He fucks in and out of you mercilessly, addicted to the way your tight walls hug his cock even as he pulls out.

He glances towards your face and notes you're back to sleep. If it were up to him, you'd take the pills more often just so he could find you waiting for him asleep, naked on the bed. A real-life doll of his own.

The sound of skin slapping and his desperate moans and grunts fill the room, along with some of your smaller ones. He doesn't tend to be so vocal; he prefers listening to you beg for him, but with no one to hear him, he lets it all out.

Coriolanus places a hand on your lower tummy, pressing down to feel himself through your walls. It's an erotic thing to feel his cock slipping in and out, reaching the deepest parts of you.

He slows the pace of his thrusting, opting to go harder and deeper, just where he can make out the bump on your pelvis of his cock head.

The pressure Coryo is causing doesn't go unnoticed by you. Groggily, you open your eyes to find him with his head dipped down, whispering profanities to himself, a pretty sheen of sweat covering his fair skin.

"Mmm, Co-coryo," you moan, catching his attention.

With a glint in his eyes, he grabs your hand, placing it where you can feel it too, his fingers lacing through yours as he holds it down, "Feel this? No one will ever get you to feel like I do, darling. I'm going to ruin you for all others. Not like I'll let you leave anyways."

It's never crossed your mind to leave Coriolanus. Not for a second. The moment you set eyes on him, you knew he was it, and the ring on your finger is a promise of that. It's why you let him use you as he pleases.

You babble out a response as the darkness consumes you once more. By morning, you'll barely remember a thing as a side effect of the pills, but Coryo won't let you forget.

The mixture of your relaxed state, Coriolanus' hand pressing down on you, and the angle of his thrusts allow for something that hasn't happened before. Something he'll enjoy for the years to come.

As he viciously snaps his hips to chase his release, you wiggle under him. There are words on your heavy tongue neither can make out, a warning.

"Shh," Coriolanus quiets you down, focusing on the way you're milking his cock for all that his worth.

He's in for a surprise when a particularly angled thrust causes you to squirt around him. A stream of your juices covering his cock and abdomen. Although he falters for a moment, he quickly pulls out and rubs at your clit, causing a smaller stream to leak out of you.

His night has become a hundred times better. His eyes widen in wonder as his brain creates new ways to have you and make you do it again. "This is going to be fun."

When you wake up in the morning, you don't remember what happened, but you know something did. It's in the way your cunt aches and how thick cum runs down your leg when you get up.

Brief, blurry memories surface as you shower. Truly, you didn't care. If anything, you're upset you missed out on the fun and can't remember the pleasure. Ultimately, you trust Coriolanus and that he won't hurt you.

You feel well-rested as you dress and make breakfast for the two of you. There is an undeniable ache in your cunt, but that's always welcomed. Your problems from yesterday are only a quiet hum in a dark corner of your brain.

"My love," you softly call out to Coriolanus, touching his naked shoulder.

"Good morning," he says with his eyes closed, although there is an undeniable grin on his lips. All the stress he felt yesterday has dissipated, leaving a pleasant feeling in his chest.

"Good morning to you, too," you giggle as you lean down to catch his lips in a kiss. There is a tangy taste attached to them that you recognize well. "Had a good night, did you?"

"I certainly did. Do you remember anything?" He asks, sitting up on the bed. The falling bedsheets reveal his toned chest and stomach. Gently, you grab the tray with food and place it on his lap.

"Barely," you scoff, "It's a shame." You technically haven't had sex with Coriolanus in two long weeks. His stunt from last night did nothing to satiate you or your mind that keeps picturing him in all sorts of compromising positions.

Coriolanus hums as he takes a bite of toast. You know him well enough to know he's amused that you don't remember and that he's hiding something.

"What is it?" You prod, brushing a strand of pale blonde hair away from his eyes.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug. He's making you work for it. Coryo loves his games, after all.

"Coryo," you speak his name with a warning.

He takes his time, sipping on the glass placed on the tray. "I just…I didn't know you could squirt," he reveals cheekily, stabbing his fork on a piece of fruit.

"What? That's because I don't," you say, taken aback.

A crease forms between your eyebrows. You and Coryo are not ashamed to talk about sex. It took you by surprise at first because he always presents himself so elegantly and no-nonsense. Behind the scenes, though, when he's with you, he's open to discussing everything he wishes to try and his likes and dislikes.

You, in return, have been the same. Admitting that you've never been able to squirt and might never be able to. It's been a topic of conversation numerous times, seeing as it's something Coryo has always been curious about.

"Yes, you do. Last night, you squirted all over my cock and my fingers and my tongue," he boasts with a smirk as he remembers all the times he made you cum after that.

"I did?"

"You were such a good girl for me, darling," Coriolanus responds, putting the tray of food to the side and cupping your face, "All you had to do was relax."

"Hard to do when you're edging me for hours," you roll your eyes at him. Edging you is just one of the fun ways he tortures you.

"Don't be a spoilsport," he frowns, gripping your face harder before planting another kiss on your lips.

"It's not fair. I can't remember anything," you softly murmur. It's a real damn shame you won't remember the first time you squirt or the face Coryo made at the realization.

"Poor thing. I can show you how to do it again. I practiced last night a couple of times," he whispers in your ear, kissing down to your pulse point, "But I can't right now, or I'll be late."

"Huh?" You dumbly respond, enthralled by his words, imagining all the pleasure he'll give you.

"Thanks for breakfast," Coriolanus says, standing from the bed and heading into the bathroom butt-naked.

You watch after him lustfully and angrily, forced to continue your morning as if nothing happened.

In less than an hour, Coriolanus is ready to return to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He has to check for any progress in his experiment before heading to the university for his classes.

He sits you on the bed before he leaves, though, to show you something 'important.' "I'll see you tonight," he says, kissing the crown of your head and turning on the TV.

The screen shows you lying on your back, whining helplessly as Coryo slips two fingers into your cunt rapidly. The rings on his fingers and the palm of his hand glisten with your sticky juices.

He did not lie about your new ability as you watch your hole leak clear liquid. The Coryo on the screen, who had been encouraging you with lewd words, eagerly attaches his mouth to catch it all. When he pulls back, his chin is dripping with your release.

Watching yourself in that fucked out state and Coryo behaving so obscenely gets your silk panties wet. Glancing at the clock, you note you have 30 minutes till you have to be at the door.

In no time, you're spread out on the bed with your hand under your university skirt, panties pushed to the side fucking two fingers into your cunt. Your eyes are focused entirely on the screen, rewatching the clip.

thanks for reading! i hope you liked it!

part two for coryo making her squirt while she's actually conscious?

#fanfiction #smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction

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nova-amor · 7 months

Text

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 ◞

𝐭𝐰 — 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 [𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦], 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 [𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟], 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 [𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝], 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.], 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐩-𝐢𝐧-𝐯

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟐𝐤

painted nails danced along the laminated wood of the bar top, your faint reflection glaring back at you from below. minutes went by slowly, prodding at the bubbling anger within your chest. you were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend, yet with no call, no text, it seemed like he had abandoned you again. it had been the sixth time that month you had received radio silence from your boyfriend on the nights you two had planned to go out.

you had planned to have dinner at a nice restaurant along the water, agreeing to meet at a nearby bar before your reservation time. but, as the hours grew closer to the reservation time, and without a single message from your boyfriend, it seemed like he skipped out on yet another date night.

you raised your hand with your gaze still fixated on the black screen of your phone— silently hoping and praying that he would call or at least text you before you ordered another drink. the universe ignored such prayer, the bartender returning with a pitiful smile. you flipped your phone onto its front, finally giving up the notion that your boyfriend would be phoning you anytime soon. you'd have to wait to see what excuse he came up with later that evening when you got home.

"can i get another cosmopolitan, please?" you ordered, earning a light nod from the bartender. the martini glass appeared within seconds, the hot pink liquid glimmering beneath the warm glows of the bar lights.

you finished the drink in two long gulps— the chilled vodka and orange liqueur burning your throat on its way down. before you could even raise your hand, another martini glass appeared before you, accompanied by a shot glass full of a caramel brown liquid.

with a quirked eyebrow, you met the gaze of the bartender. they pointed to a spot down the bar, silently answering the question you hadn't even asked. following their direction, your eyes landed on a devastatingly handsome man sitting hidden away in the shadows of the bar. you swallowed thickly; your heart skipping a beat as his honey-brown eyes met yours. your thighs squeezed together, a flush of heat rising to your chest and cheeks.

turning your gaze away, you gulped down the second cosmopolitan within seconds, allowing the fire of the alcohol to course through your veins and stroke at your confidence. with a steady exhale, you gathered up your purse and phone with one hand and the shot glass with the other. you walked with a confidence you didn't know you had, chewing at your bottom lip as you took a seat next to the man.

your eyes drank his appearance in, wetness beginning to pool between your thighs as you set your items on the bar top. he wore a tight-fitting, solid white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows— fabric straining against the thick muscles of his arms, black and white illustrations etched into the tanned skin. your gaze lowered for a brief second, mouth-watering at the sight of his large thighs flexing beneath the dark cloth of his tailored suit pants, the heel of his foot subtly tapping against the polished floor of the bar.

"take a picture, why don't ya," the roughness of his voice caught you off-guard, cutting right through you like butter. you bashfully looked away, focusing your sights on the shot glass, murmuring a quick apology.

"so, what's a little bird like you doin' here all on her own, huh?" he grumbled, tentatively watching as he raised his glass to his pink lips. you twirled the shot glass around, cupping it between both your hands. you softly mumbled about waiting for your boyfriend before dinner barely loud enough for the man next to you to hear, stomach tightening as you met his intense gaze again.

you could practically smell him across the short distance, lingering warm aromas of patchouli and amber wood overwhelming your senses. your face feels hot as he glances at you through the side of his eye. his finger tracing the rim of his glass before taking another quick sip of his drink, finishing it off before waving the bartender down to order another.

"cat caught yer tongue, lass?" he teases with a smirk, body turning to face you. you shift in your stool, fiddling with the shot glass once more before taking it down in one long swallow. bourbon— the flavor notes of tobacco and honey staining every crevice of your mouth, scorching down your throat and to the pit of your stomach.

"no," you finally speak, straightening your back as you turn to face him. your knees were an inch or two from brushing against his, bodies so close you could see every hint of gold in his eyes even under the guise of the bar's shadow. "just not used to speaking to strangers."

his smirk grew, the tops of his cheeks painted a faint hue of pink.

"don't have t' be strangers, little bird," he looks you dead in your eye, leaning in close to you. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, pussy clenching around nothing as his soft lips brush against the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning across the side of your face. "especially if you grab another bevvy with me."

the drinks came and passed in a blur, heating every nerve in your body with each sip and making the tips of your fingers tingle with a faint buzz. you were still cognitive enough to make conversation, the exchange of words between you and the man flowing with ease with the assistance of liquid confidence. your body leaned against the man's arm, head resting upon his shoulder. a rough hand ghosting over your thigh, fingertips brushing against the edge of your skirt as you tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

"what a shame yer boyfriend left ya all alone," the man's fingers tease at the smooth flesh of your thigh, dipping between your legs. his large hand encompassed almost the entirety of your inner thigh, the tip of his pinky poking at the damp cloth of your crotch. "but, at least he left ya with good company, ain't that right, little bird?"

you nod in agreement, chewing at the soft flesh of your inner cheek. your body shifts in your seat, spreading your legs a bit more to allow him more access to the sensitive space.

"easy girl, eh? boyfriend not givin' ya enough attention? openin' ya legs so easily f' me," your pussy clenches with the weight of his words, his fingers cupping your cunt, causing a small whimper to slip out. "need me t' take care of ya, little bird?"

you let out an uncontrolled moan as he strokes at the slit of your cunt, caressing your clit with small, delicate circles. one of your hands reaches up to cup the side of his neck, tilting his face down and closer to yours. your lips brush against his, the woodsy hint of bourbon invading your nostrils.

"please," you whisper, your voice low and breathy. "need ya, need ya so bad."

he chuckles, the tip of his nose nudging against yours. his fingers feel so good on your clit, his pace quickening. if it weren't for your grip on him, you'd most likely fall off the back of the stool, your body willingly succumbing to him.

"little bird," he hums, brown eyes staring deep into you. you whine as his fingers retract from your stimulated core, his fingertips dampened with your arousal. "we can take it to the bathroom."

"mine," the man grunts into your ear, long fingers laced around your throat, constricting your breath. he's fucking starving—carving out your insides with his cock, imprinting every ridge and curve into the squishy walls of your cunt, devouring your entire being with almost little-to-no regard for you. "all fuckin' mine, such a good girl f'me. taken me cock like the perfect little thing ya are."

you try to suppress your moans, the walls of your cunt clenching hard around his cock. your eyes roll into the back of your head, tongue lolling out to the side, drool seeping out the edges of your mouth. your hands are pressed to the cool porcelain of the sink, gripping at the edges in search of support against the man's brutal hips rutting against your ass cheeks.

his cock plunges deep in and out of you at a rigorous pace, hot breath warming up your cheek. he leans back and releases your neck, the sweetness of air seeping into your lungs as his hands find their place on your hips. his fingernails dig into the soft flesh, a coy smirk tugging at his lips as he meets your gaze through the mirror's reflection.

"bet yer little boyfriend doesn't fuck ya nearly as good as i do, huh? doesn't know how t' make ya into a needy, begging, little mess, right, little bird?" the man teasingly rambles behind you. his cock nudges against your g-spot, bullying the sensitive spot relentlessly. you swore you could see the pearly gates of heaven with the way he was fucking you.

"bet he doesn't touch ya here," one of his fingers dips between your legs, toying with your sensitive clit with harsh pinches and tugs. your body reacts instantly, back arching deeper as you slump against the edge of the bathroom's sink. "there we go, little bird. yer lovin' this, aren't ya? c'mon, pretty girl, lemme hear how much ya love this cock."

another high-pitched whine leaves your lips as he plunges faster in and out of you, every inch of his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. you're impossibly close to the edge, fragile mind teetering on the edges. you could feel the hot knot at the pit of your stomach grow, spreading across your body and encompassing every inch of you with its fiery wrath.

"f-fuckkk, feels s' good," you cry out when his fingers pinch your clit roughly, rolling the sensitive nub between his calloused fingers. "hittin' me s' deep, don't fuckin' stop, p-please... holy fuck! s' close, don't stop don't stop don't stop—"

the man chuckles behind you, "tell me yer boyfriend doesn't fuck ya this good. tell me who owns this pussy, little bird."

"you! shit, f-fuckkkk, you do, my pussy's all yours, " you ramble, his heavy balls smacking hard against your clit. "c-christ, n-never been f-fucked this goood— fillin' me up s' good, b-best dick i've everr had—"

with another harsh tug to your clit, you cum around his cock, pussy walls spasming and convulsing hard him. your orgasm almost brings you to your knees, breath caught in your throat as he pins you to the counter with his hips. with a few more thrusts, he cums in you with a rough grunt— hot ropes of cum sticking to every ridge of your cunt's walls as he spills every drop inside you.

"thatagirl," he leans down, his towering frame encompassing the entirety of your back as you remain bent over the sink. you're too sensitive to move, his cock still rock hard inside you. you tilt your head down, your forehead pressed to the chilling porcelain edge of the sink.

"can't let you go just yet," he breathes into your ear, planting a sloppy kiss on the side of your head. you hum in appreciation, barely able to open your eyes to meet his piercing gaze as you rest the side of your face against the sink. he's still sporting a shit-eating smirk, blown-out eyes dancing with a mixture of possession and lust. "g'na clean ya up and take ya back to my room. how’s that sound, little bird?"

by the time you got home the next morning, your skin was littered with purple and black splotches and inner thighs stained with the memories of the previous night. the man had disappeared at some point before you had woken up, leaving you to recollect your items and yourself before doing the walk of shame.

as you set your purse down on your coffee table, mindlessly kicking your heels off to the side and succumbing to the soft cusions of your couch, your boyfriend appeared behind you. with a smug smile and bright honey eyes, he cupped your jaw— guiding your head back to rest on the back of the couch, allowing you to meet his loving gaze before he littered kisses along your forehead, nose, and cheeks, whispering sweet words of love and endearment between kisses.

“you could’ve given me a ride home, si,” you giggled as simon pressed a few quick pecks to your lips, the warmth of your love for him spreading throughout your chest, squeezing at your heart. “or at least left me a change of clothes in the hotel room. was a bit embarrassed that i had to do the walk of shame after spendin’ the night with my own boyfriend.”

“yer the one who wanted to roleplay last night,” he reminded you, stroking the hinge of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. simon glanced at the hickies and bite mark bruises that decorated your neck and collar bone. “had t’ give the full experince, little bird. that’s what ya wanted, right?”

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cheollipop · 11 months

Text

like a dream

navi | taglist

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader x song mingi

w.c.: 2.7k

tags: smut, fluff, newly-established poly relationship

with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream.

warnings: dom!yungi, sub!reader, fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink (of course), some begging, drooling, sloppy kisses, nicknames (baby, darling, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl), yunho's a little mean, and a tease, mingi is whipped, WHIPPED, some L bombs were dropped at the end, this is just straight up smut so don't come at me for the lack of an intro (￢_￢;)

A/N: thank you so much for the request!! this was my first time writing mingi and I enjoyed every second of it ^^ this fic made me experience every emotion known to man-- I was screaming, crying, debating with myself in the mirror, howling at the moon- ahem. anyway. happy reading!! (´ ∀ ` *)

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

➽────────────────────────❥

“Yunho, please,” you whined, voice breathy.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He whispered back.

The lamp in the corner of the living room cast warm hues over Mingi’s face, creating angular shadows under his eyes and cheekbones. His lips were parted, shallow breaths blowing against your heated skin, moving closer to press feathery kisses to your jawline. Your palm glided over his toned torso, down his chest and over his perked-up nipples to reach the prominent tent in his sweatpants. A wave of warmth rushed to your core upon hearing Mingi’s choked moan when you cupped his bulge, squeezing your palm around the outline of his cock to revel in the sound again.

Yunho pressed himself to your back, his long fingers curling deliciously into your g-spot. Your thighs shook where they straddled Mingi’s, your hips pushing back to meet Yunho’s insistent thrusts. His other hand wrapped around you to grab your jaw, twisting your face until he could meet your eyes.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

You shuddered as his husky tone reverberated in your ear, closing your eyes for a few seconds to take in the pleasure his fingers were sending up your spine before he gave your head a firm shake. You blinked your eyes open, working your palm harder over Mingi’s hard length as you answered Yunho’s question.

“Want Mingi to fuck me,” you whispered. “please, Yunho, can he?”

“I don’t know, sweet girl...” a smirk tugged at Yunho’s lips and he stared at the man slumped against the backrest under you, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth and his eyebrows knitted while you gave his clothed bulge the attention he desperately wanted. Mingi looked up at the older man and tried to make sense of his words through the haze of pleasure fogging up his brain. “What do you say, Mingi? Do you think you can fit in this tight cunt?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, fuck. Please, Yunho,” Mingi looked up at the other man, his eyes teary and glazed over with lust while his cock throbbed under your palm. “She can take it. Right, jagi?”

You nodded desperately, scrambling to undo the drawstrings on Mingi’s sweatpants before tugging on the waistband. Yunho scissored his fingers inside you, once, twice, before pulling out completely and swatting your hands away, pulling down Mingi’s bottoms himself until his cock sprung out and slapped against his lower belly.

You gawked at the length, the tip red and angry, leaking translucent precum over his smooth skin.

“Intimidated?” Yunho whispered into your ear, to which you gave a slight nod. “I wanna watch Mingi fill up this pretty pussy,” he gave your clit a firm tap. “can you do that for me?”

You nodded again, sliding your folds up his length until you reached the tip, watching as Mingi held himself up by the base and helped you position yourself over him. Yunho stood back, taking in the sight of you sliding down Mingi’s cock, taking him inside your fluttering heat – inch by inch – until he was fully sheathed within your walls. It burned, but Mingi’s head rolled back against the cushion and his mouth parted to allow a hearty moan exit, the sound gravelly and erotic. His eyes were scrunched shut, the hands gripping your hips promising blossoming bruises the next day. A string of drool streamed from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, and you leaned forward to lick it off his face.

You ground your hips experimentally, Mingi’s cockhead brushing over the spot that made your eyes roll back. “Mingi-”

“Fuck, (y/n), if you move I’ll cum,” he warned, lifting his head up to gaze at you through lidded eyes. But you rolled your hips again, a sly smile playing at your lips for a few seconds as you watched Mingi struggle – his eyes fluttered shut once again and a shiver shook his body, his hands digging into your hips in a failed attempt to keep you still.

Slender fingers wrapped around your waist, warm lips pressing against the shell of your ear and Yunho’s voice took over your senses once again. “Enough, sweetheart. We’ve waited far too long for this for it to end so soon,” he muttered, pressing a tender kiss to your jawline.

You looked down at Mingi guiltily, but the eyes that stared back at you were brimming with fondness. “Come here,” he cupped the back of your neck and lowered your head to press his lips to yours, keeping them there for a few seconds before poking his tongue out to taste you. You felt the fingers holding your waist slip away and a body plop down on the couch beside you, but Mingi finally thrusted up into your aching cunt and your mind turned to jelly.

He patted your hip before squeezing it, urging you to move at your desired pace. With your hands flat against his chest, you lifted your hips until only his cockhead remained encased within your tight heat before slamming back down, swallowing the whispered string of curses Mingi expelled into your mouth. Leaning back, you cupped the side of his face, running your thumb over his plush bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, grunting when you teasingly clenched around him, sensing him adjust his position.

With another squeeze to your hips, Mingi began thrusting up into you, sucking your thumb into his mouth for a few seconds before letting it go, panting heavily while relentlessly driving his cock into your sopping heat.

“How does she feel, Mingi-ah?” Yunho’s voice wavered, his hand palming over the obvious tent in his pants.

“Fucking amazing,” a groan vibrated past Mingi’s parted lips as he pumped his cock into you, angling his thrusts directly into your g-spot and occasionally licking over the pad of your thumb that was slowly straying out of his mouth, smearing saliva down the side of his face.

Yunho reached out a hand to flick your nipple, pinching it between two fingers then soothing it with gentle back-and-forth strokes of his thumb. “Mm,” he hummed. “Make sure to get her all nice and wet for me. Fill her all the way up, yeah?”

Mingi made a sound of approval and your eyes rolled to the back of your head – something about the way they talked about you as though you weren’t present made the pleasure building up in your lower belly even more mind-numbing. But when you peeked at their faces, they looked back at you with stars in their eyes, awestruck as they watched you bounce on Mingi’s cock. The succession of breathy ah’s escaping your lips, the sheen of sweat reflecting the orange hues of the lamp, the way your nails left red streaks over Mingi’s chest; your very being weaved itself into their psyche, as though you had placed a spell on them, forever tying their souls to you.

“Gonna cum,” Mingi mumbled, sliding his hand down to your drenched folds and circling two fingers around your clit.

He pulled your hips down until you were stuffed full of his cock, your body locking up as he painted your walls white, Mingi’s warmth paired with his insistent fingers over your clit sending over the edge with him. The dim room darkened further, your features contorting when your orgasm finally washed over you. Mingi’s lips pressed against yours to swallow up your broken moans, expelling his own into your mouth when you clenched around him, trapping his cock inside as it spurt out the last of his load, leaving him a twitching mess between your walls.

The kiss turned soft – the slow dancing of lips while a ballad played in your head, tender touches grazing each other’s skin while heaving chests met and parted between your bodies. You missed the hurried shuffling beside you followed by the muted thuds of clothes hitting the floor, too entranced by the plushness of Mingi’s mouth moulding against your own, his palm rubbing soothing lines over the length of your spine.

Hasty fingers gripped your hips, startling you away from Mingi’s touch as Yunho pulled you off the man and lifted your hips, disregarding the whine you emitted when cum began to seep out of your fluttering hole. He pressed his cock between your folds, sliding it through the sticky mess and groaning as his neglected cock finally got some attention. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

It took you a few seconds to process what was happening, still dazed by the force of your first orgasm. “One second,” you whispered while adjusting your position, digging your knees into the couch cushions and grabbing onto Mingi’s shoulders. The man under you held your waist, staring up at you with so much fondness it made you blush. You quickly looked back at Yunho, hoping the younger man didn’t notice the heat tinting your cheeks. “Please,” you wiggled your hips back at him.

Yunho breathed out a laugh, positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re killing me,” he muttered as he pushed in, the blend of Mingi’s cum and your arousal making the slide easy.

You slumped down against Mingi while your walls worked to accommodate Yunho’s cock, squeezing around him as he bottomed-out inside you. He bent at the waist to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades, his hot breath blowing against the slick skin. “Fuck, (y/n), I’m not gonna last,” you felt his lips move over your spine. “You have to relax, baby.”

Sucking in a deep breath, you did as he said, rocking your hips back against him experimentally, the soft moan that echoed from behind you spurring you into repeating the motion. Yunho was in heaven, the woman he’d wanted for so long was finally his – his to love, his to touch, his to hold. He ground his hips into yours, pulling out halfway before slamming back in, watching how your back tensed and relaxed as pleasure seared through your veins every time his cock split you open. You reached for Mingi, pushing your parted lips together while Yunho straightened up to watch his cock enter you.

Fingers tangled into the hair at your crown and pulled you off Mingi, pressing you flush against Yunho’s chest and securing you there with an arm around your waist. He adjusted his arm to grab a fistful of your breast, brushing his finger over the perked-up nipple while he pistoned his cock into your dripping cunt.

“I didn’t wait this long to have you so you could slobber over Mingi while I fuck you,” he growled in your ear, lifting a knee up onto the couch next to Mingi’s thigh. “Now be a good girl and show him how you’re gonna cum on my cock, yeah?”

You nodded desperately, locking eyes with the man under you while Yunho sped up his thrusts, the lewd melody of skin-on-skin resounding between the four walls. Mingi’s palms glided over your thighs, from your knees to your hips then back down, subtly squeezing the soft flesh along the way before repeating the routine. His fingers dipped between your legs, cupping your cunt to feel Yunho’s length stretching you open.

“Fuck, she’s taking you so well,” he cursed, flicking your clit with his thumb to the rhythm of Yunho’s thrusts, whining pathetically at the praise.

“Do you like it when we tell you what a good girl you are?” Yunho purred, untangling his fingers from your hair to grab your jaw. He twisted your face to look at you, leaning forward to slot his lips against yours before dipping his tongue inside to lick over the roof of your mouth. Your whimpers and moans came out muffled, Yunho’s lips pressing harshly against your own as he neared his release, his cock hammering into you until the room around you blurred. “I’ve thought about having you like this for so long, (y/n). Come on, sweetheart, give it to me,” he whispered against your lips.

Your thighs shook violently, and you would’ve fallen over Mingi if it weren’t for Yunho’s secure hold on your waist. Compared to your first high – Mingi guiding you over the edge and into a warm field of ecstasy – your second was more like a shockwave, curling your body as painful pleasure sent your nerves into overdrive, beads of sweat trickling down your temples and a blazing flush spreading over your skin. You shook in Yunho’s arms, a staccato of moans – broken and high-pitched – ripping through your chest as he continued his brutal pace, chasing his own high while elongating yours. A string of curses followed by a succession of your name sounded behind you, and warmth expanded through your belly. Grinding his hips into yours, Yunho milked himself of every last drop before finally pulling out, fixing his gaze on your core as a mix of his cum and Mingi’s streamed out of your gaping hole.

It took him a few seconds to pry his eyes off you, bringing his free arm under your thighs to lift you off the couch. Mingi moved to the side, allowing Yunho to lay you down on the cushions with your sore legs resting over the younger man’s thighs. He tugged the throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered you with it then kneeled on the floor beside you to press a kiss to your forehead. Mingi’s hands massaged your aching muscles under the fluffy blanket, a pleased hum vibrating in your chest at the gesture.

“Are you okay?” Yunho sounded nervous. “It wasn’t too much?”

You shook your head, an easy smile stretching your lips. “It was perfect,” you could hear the next question at the tip of his tongue, hesitance and worry painting his features, “I’m sure. I promise.”

The wrinkles between his eyebrows smoothed and he leaned in to place another kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingi watched from the side as the woman he was so infatuated with glanced between him and Yunho with hearts in her eyes, his chest bubbling with warmth and adoration.

“(Y/n),” he spoke, the rasp in his voice making the hair on your arms stand. “I love you.”

Your eyebrows raised and you paused for a few seconds, tears welling up in your eyes at the heartfelt confession. His eyes, so soft and loving, took in your features, down to the faintest mole painting your skin while his mouth curved into a smile that made your heart race. He didn’t seem alarmed at your sudden tears, the sparkle in his eyes glimmering brighter while he studied your face as though you were Aphrodite herself.

“I love you too,” you muttered, your bottom lip wobbling. Mingi’s hand found yours under the blanket, holding it firmly and giving your fingers a gentle squeeze. After a few seconds of wordless communication, you turned you head to the man beside you, gazing into his doe eyes that spoke aphonic words of poetry whenever they admired you, his smile colouring the world with vivid markers and crayons. “And you,” you reached your other hand to cup Yunho’s jaw. “I love you.”

You noted the subtle shaking of his bottom lip, his eyes glassy as he leaned down to pepper your face with kisses, whispered I love you’s tickling your skin as he dragged his lips from your forehead to your nose, then over your cheeks and jawline until he reached your lips. “This feels like a dream,” he whispered before tucking his face into the crook of your neck, hearing Mingi make a sound of agreement.

You giggled, carding your fingers through Yunho’s soft locks. Looking over at Mingi, his fingers rubbing comforting shapes into your skin, you wondered if it was a dream. The two men you yearned for, cried over, and thought you could never have, now surrounded you with their comforting warmth – Yunho’s steady breath blowing against your neck, his lips pressing feathery kisses to the delicate skin, and Mingi, eyes lidded with unending admiration and touch so soft it made you shiver all over.

Squeezing Mingi’s hand once more, you fluttered your eyes shut and allowed the two men to smother your senses, relaxing into the cushions as the love they so generously gave you seeped into your very soul.

“If it is… then I hope we never wake up.”

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#song mingi smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #mingi x y/n #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x y/n #ateez fanfic #yunho smut #mingi smut #ateez fluff #ateez oneshot #jeong yunho oneshot #mingi oneshot #kpop #kpop smut

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juyofans · 17 days

Text

it's you ( j.wy & c.s )

pairing › jung wooyoung x afab reader x choi san. about › 3.6k, nsfw (minors dni), fluff warnings › smoking weed, nicknames, threesome, double penetration, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys), p in v, creampies, degradation, praise, fingering, high sex, idol au, mxm content, nipple play, woosan deserve their own warning, lmk if i missed anything

synopsis › getting high with your weed besties is something of a tradition for you. being fucked by them, however, is definitely not. note › when you haven't written since february and all of a sudden you watch chellateez and go into absolute brainrot 😂🙏 i swear i wrote this in 8 hours i don't know what the hell is wrong with me but whatever. also happy 4/20 so fitting for this fic am i right 😝 this is dedicated to my sexy hot smoking wife @yunhoszn tagging › @atzhouse @skteezcursed also @hoshiseon for encouraging me to keep going ily

“You’re late.”

You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room is dim, save for the lamp in the corner, but you don’t need light to register the already thick atmosphere of the hotel room and the two silhouettes in the corner.

“Clearly, it doesn’t matter since you guys have already started,” you say, flicking the light switch on.

San comes into focus first, holding a rolled-up joint in between his fingers as he exhales smoke. The sight makes you dizzy, partially because of the cloudy air but also because of the opened blazer adorning his frame, exposing more than covering it. One look at Wooyoung proves the same, his loosened tie and black jacket strewn across the chair much more haphazardly than merely an hour ago on the Coachella stage.

“You guys didn’t even change?” you gasp, almost accusingly.

“Can you blame us?” Wooyoung responds, his silky voice floating through your ears, “That performance was insane. We needed something to calm us down.”

Wooyoung hands you a joint rolled up perfectly with his nimble fingers, and San beckons you over with two fingers. You shuffle over, watching him pull out his Hello Kitty lighter from the drawer beside him.

“We were too antsy to think about changing,” San confesses. You lean down, close to his chest as he flicks the wheel of the lighter. The orange flame dances across his chest, shimmering with the body oil he applied before the performance, and it’s hard to pay attention to your own joint when he lights it.

The smoke bursts, taking you by surprise, and you cough as San pulls the joint out of your mouth.

“You okay?” he asks, delicately cradling your chin. Your lungs burn as if they’ve been lit on fire, but all you can focus on is San’s warm gaze grounding you.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while.”

“Do you not smoke without us?” Wooyoung asks from the corner. You turn, shifting your gaze to him and noticing the newly popped open buttons of his shirt.

“Of course not. You’re my weed besties, it’s like I’d be cheating on you if I got high without you.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, trudging over to take a seat next to you. He pats at the empty space next to him, right between you and San, and you oblige, letting the bed frame hit your back as you scooch down.

“Do you guys get high without me?” you ask, timidly, wondering if only you share this sort of possessive sentiment.

“Of course not,” San replies. He’s playing with your hair now, curling it between his fingers as if you were always meant to be in this position, by his side. “You’re our weed buddy for life.”

And it’s true. You got high with San and Wooyoung your first time years ago, and you knew you wouldn’t have it any differently as you watched them wipe away your tears from the burning ache in your chest and tell you that you were doing so well for them, that you were taking it like a champ and that you were safe with them. Pulling out the weed is almost a tradition now, often finding yourself in the backseat of the van exhaling smoke after a particularly exhausting performance or in your bedroom at night after a long day of work. It helps you take the edge off things, they help you take the edge off things, and it’s a mutual response that all three of you are together when you take your first and last hits.

“Yeah, we’re like friends with benefits. Except the benefit is the weed, not sex,” you clarify. You attempt to grab your joint from San, wanting to experience the so-called benefit you just mentioned, but San holds it high above him in an attempt to tease you and you can only pout in response.

“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says, holding it farther away from you as you reach for it with grabby hands. You can hear Wooyoung laughing from the side, but all you’re focused on is the prize in his hands as you lean over his lap, your right hand finding purchase on his exposed shoulder as you finally grab ahold of his hand, plucking the joint right out of his fingers.

“Got it!” you exclaim, but it takes a few moments for you to register Wooyoung’s silence before you look down, wondering why the room is engulfed in sudden quietness. You suppose you find the answer in San’s expression, staring up at you, and just about now you realize how imperceptibly close he is, how you’re now straddling his lap and somehow your hand has slid down to his chest, grabbing onto the hardness of his chest muscle.

You think you might die.

You feel San’s heart beating wildly against your fingers, and it takes thirty seconds before you realize that this is wrong, so, irrevocably wrong, and you make a move to shift off his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” you start, removing your hand from his abdomen and bringing your leg up, “I wasn’t paying attention and I—”

San grips onto your thigh, holding you in place. You still, wondering if his touch is merely a dream or something very, very real with even more real implications.

“Do you know how long I’ve imagined you like this?” he starts, his chest constraining as if he’s pained, as if the mere sight of you in his lap is like poison flooding his veins.

“What?” you ask. Your whole world shifts on its axis and suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way his pants strain against his dick, the hardness against your thigh, and his heavy breathing in front of you.

“Five years,” Wooyoung answers. Your gaze shifts to where he sits, and he leans closer as if this is some dirty secret that’s only meant for your ears. “He’s imagined you in this position for five years, ever since the day we first got high together because you wanted to be good for him. For me. For us.”

And you feel like glass, see-through despite every intention to hide your feelings because it’s true. It’s imperceptibly true that you wanted to get high with them to gain some sort of intimacy with them, a tradition with only you three and feelings that no one else would understand. It’s true that your heart flutters whenever someone mentions it’s your thing with them, because even the mere thought of being associated with them is enough to drive you insane.

The joint in your hands can get you high, but nothing else makes you float like their presence next to you, imagining the way it’d feel if you just leaned a little closer and made yourself theirs.

“I don’t understand,” you say, even though you all know damn well that you do. “What are you trying to say?”

Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp and bringing you close.

You moan against his lips as you press back, too dizzy to even comprehend. You don’t know if your lightheadedness is from the hit you just took or Wooyoung’s lips, but either way, your brain is spinning and all you can think of is being consumed by him. He sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly as you whine. Wooyoung kisses you like he’s starved, as if he wants to eat you whole and devour you as if you’re his for the taking, and judging by the way you respond so eagerly, you might as well let him.

“Enough,” San complains, and Wooyoung pulls back from you as you attempt to register what the hell just happened. You can’t even sit still for a moment before San pulls your thighs so you’re placed right on top of his clothed dick. All you can do is fall forward, meeting his lips halfway with yours.

If Wooyoung kisses you like he’s taking everything from you, then San breathes life back into you. He presses slowly, and gently, testing the waters until you whimper against his lips for more. It’s heartwarming how he handles you delicately, as if he’s your first everything, and it’s not long before you squirm on his lap and he has to pull back from you, throwing his head back and groaning.

“Stop,” he breathes ruggedly, making a noise of protest as you grind down harder. “I don’t want to make you come for the first time against my pants. I need to be inside you.”

Still, you can’t seem to stop until Wooyoung puts his hands on your waist. You whimper, almost in tears from being stopped so suddenly.

“Look at you, grinding yourself against him like a whore. Thought you were being good for us, but all you care about is about getting to cum, is it?”

“No!” you gasp, shaking your head, but you know you’re past the point of no return when Wooyoung spins you around, on San’s lap. San wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you close against him, again, and you feel the hardness of his abs against your thin shirt. Wooyoung moves from his position to kneel between San’s legs, and your legs, grinning wickedly as he lifts your short skirt so that you’re truly spread open for him.

“Look how wet you are,” he coos, and the sweet tone in which he says those filthy words makes you want to die, “how long have you been wanting us like this? Five years, maybe even longer?”

You nod, and San sighs against your ear.

“Could’ve been sitting pretty on my dick for ages now. It’s okay, though. We can make up for lost time.”

San trails kisses down the side of your neck, licking, biting softly, until you’re squirming away from him and he has to hold you in place with his right hand. The rings on his fingers shine against the lamplight, and you feel yourself getting wetter with the way he grips you so easily, kissing you so carefully but having the potential to ruin you wholeheartedly.

You’re brought back to reality when you feel a featherlike touch prod at your panties. They’re pink, cute, and definitely not the right ones to wear if you want to get fucked, but Wooyoung seems to pay no mind as he slides them off you in one go, tucking them into the back pocket of his pants. Your top follows next, and Wooyoung groans when he finds no bra underneath, making haste to lean in close, taking an exposed nipple into his mouth.

“No bra? You just wanted to strip for us, huh? So, so easy for us to fuck you.”

You can’t even say no because deep down, you know he’s right.

“You wear these short skirts,” he says, trailing his fingers up your thighs, “and tight shirts with no bra, and cute, cute little panties that drive us insane. Do you know how many times we’ve gotten off to the thought of you, so sweet and perfect like this?”

San bites your earlobe as Wooyoung says this, and you cry out, digging your nails into his thighs.

“You’ve gotten off to me?” you pant, breath heady with desire.

“More times than you can imagine, pretty.”

With that, his fingers finally find your folds, slipping inside them with ease. He finds your clit in seconds as if he was always meant to be there, and it’s not long before he traces figure eights on the nub, holding your thigh open with his free hand so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.

As if you weren’t crazy enough already, San ceases his ministrations on your neck to take ahold of your nipple in his hand, tweaking and pinching until it’s irritated before moving over to the other one, alternating until you can’t keep yourself silent anymore.

“Please, please stop before I— Oh, god!” you cry as Wooyoung slips his fingers inside you, curling them so tightly that it has you seeing stars. His thumb finds purchase on your clit again, never stopping his incessant rubbing, and you think you might pass out from the coil in your stomach building up, the pressure so tight that it really might take you out.

“Be good and let go for us,” San breathes into your ear, swirling his finger around your nipple, and that’s all it takes for you to spill over the edge, throwing your head back against San’s shoulder and clamping down on Wooyoung’s fingers.

Wooyoung works you through it until you’re begging him to stop, and the sight of your cum stringing on his fingers makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. It drives you even more insane though when Wooyoung brings his fingers to San’s lips and they both murmur sounds of desire, and you watch entranced as San swirls his fingers around Wooyoung before he pulls them out with a pop.

Before you can even say anything, though, Wooyoung kisses San, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and licking at his lips. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight, entranced with the way their lips slot together so perfectly at the taste of you.

“So good,” San gasps out as Wooyoung pulls back, pressing another kiss against his lips before shifting his attention to you. San presses his lips against yours, making sure you taste yourself against him.

“You taste so sweet,” he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “So, so sweet. Let me fuck you, pretty. Please?”

Your chest pangs, suddenly aware of how badly you need something inside of you, and before you can even say yes, Wooyoung is pulling your skirt higher, up to your waist. It barely covers your ass now, and as San busies himself with freeing his dick, Wooyoung makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates you, groping at the skin of your ass until you beg for him to stop.

“You’re so hard,” Wooyoung comments when San finally pulls his dick out, and your mouth waters at the sight. He is hard, long, and curved, and the prominent vein on the underside makes you want to trace your tongue on it until he’s writhing beneath you.

“Can you blame me? They look like an angel sitting on my lap.”

You’re obsessed with the way they talk about you as if you aren’t physically present, just a plaything for their use. Your fingers trace San’s dick, thumbing over the vein, and he squirms, growing harder at the touch.

“I need you. Right now.”

Wooyoung helps position you so you’re hovering right over him, and when San stares at you for confirmation, your heart swells. You nod, knowing you could never, ever say no to him, and he lowers you down, spearheading you on his dick.

It’s not like you’re a virgin, but the way San rearranges your insides makes you feel like you’re losing your virginity all over again. He’s big, too big, and as you lower yourself on him, every inch feels like your body is adjusting to accommodate his length. Even if Wooyoung prepared you enough, San’s size is something you know will take a while to get used to.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally find yourself flush against him, ass pressed against his chest and legs situated around his. You exhale, finding that you held your breath in for so long in anticipation, and only when you feel the slight pain slip away do you signal San that you’re ready.

He helps you out by holding onto your shaking thighs, lifting you off halfway before you slam back down again. The action makes you both gasp, and as you stare at Wooyoung, wide-eyed, you know he’s just as turned on as the both of you.

You quickly build up a rhythm with San’s help, bouncing on him as you desperately try to reach your high again. The praise he whispers into your ear only spurs you on, rutting against him like this is your lifeline.

“You fight around me so tight,” he gasps, “Squeezing me in like you need me. It’s like you were made to be here. For us.”

Wooyoung groans from the other end, and as you meet his eyes again, the sight makes you water. He has his hand shoved inside his pants, palming himself needily as he focuses on the two of you, and you watch as his dick strains against his pants and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Wooyoung,” you pant, “let me help you.”

“What?” he sputters, coming to a stop as he registers your voice.

“I can fit two. There’s room for one more.”

You spread your legs open wider, and Wooyoung moans at the way your pussy swallows San whole.

“Are you sure?” San puffs against your ear, “You’re already so tight against me.”

“And I can be even tighter with the two of you.”

You clench around San to prove your point, and he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his noises.

“God, okay,” Wooyoung says, succumbing to his desires, “turn around.”

You lift yourself off of San, already whining at the lack of something inside you, but it’s not long before you perch yourself on all fours and San’s sliding into you again. This time, however, you feel a second dick prod at you, and you moan shamelessly into the room.

“You sure about this?” Wooyoung asks.

“Please. I need you,” you respond, sticking your ass out further, and that’s all it takes before Wooyoung slides into you.

Wooyoung is shorter than San, but thicker, and even though it hurts like hell at first, San working you open earlier helps you adjust easily to the feeling of two dicks inside of you.

“Have you guys ever done this before?” you ask, suddenly curious about whether this is a new experience for them too.

“Never. It’s always been you, baby. Only you,” San says, pulling out before slamming back in again.

The three of you moan, the feeling of San’s dick rocking right next to Wooyoung’s making you feel out of this world. Wooyoung goes next, a rougher stroke than San’s, and as they alternate and work you open, you don’t think you could ever go back to regular sex again.

“You look so pretty like this,” San starts, palming your ass.

“Being fucked like a hole for us to use,” Wooyoung continues, slapping your skin. The pain shocks you, and you squeeze around them tighter, something you didn’t even think was possible, but their vocal reactions to it spur you on even more. They thrust into you harder, alternating and then fucking into you all at once, to the point where you can’t even register their rhythm anymore and all you can focus on is the way they fill you up.

It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, and based on their slightly less calculated thrusts, you know that they’re close too. Perceptive as always, San’s hands find your clit again, exactly what you need to let go.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your thighs shaking.

“Us too,” Wooyoung responds, wildly fucking into you to reach his high. “Let go for us, baby.”

With one more circle of San’s fingers, you spill over, milking their dicks in a neverending orgasm. They fuck you through it, and Wooyoung holds your waist so you don’t collapse on them.

“Close, pretty,” Wooyoung starts, “where do you want us?”

“Inside,” you plead, “right where you belong.”

San comes with a gasp, emptying into you, and his release triggers Wooyoung’s as he follows suit. They fuck into you until they can’t anymore, pulling out of you and watching their cum drip down your thighs.

San cleans you up with a towel, and Wooyoung leaves the room to return with a glass of water, something you’re thankful for because quite honestly, you’re spent after being used so maniacally like that.

You kiss each of them once you’re done, situated against the edge of the bed with the two of them next to you like always. Wooyoung lights a singular joint with the weed left, and you share the roll between the three of you.

“I love you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, and you feel Wooyoung squeeze your thigh, “I always have. I don’t know what this means for us, but I know I need the two of you.”

“We feel the same way,” San says, kissing your cheek. “We can take it one step at a time. Just know it’s always been you, and it always will be.”

You watch as Wooyoung takes a hit of the joint, the smoke swirling until it disappears into thin air. He takes another puff, but this time, he pulls you close, kissing you as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. Your lungs burn from the heavy smoke, but Wooyoung’s lips are far too consuming to even focus on the pain as you kiss back.

“We can worry about all that later. In the future, because we have all the time in the world together. For now, though,” he starts, dragging you onto his lap once again in a sick, twisted, form of deja vu, “maybe we can worry about round two.”

And as Wooyoung kisses you again and San finds purchase against the small of your back, you realize that they’re absolutely right. You may not know what the future holds, but for now, you can just count on your weed besties boyfriends to help you take your mind off it.

#꣑୧ . . . juyofans #atzhouse #choi san x reader #choi san #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung smut #choi san smut #san #wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #woosan x reader #woosan

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evie-sturns · 1 month

Text

Bonfire - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you and chris have been as close as anything for years, until one night where chris, you and your friend group have a beach bonfire, resulting in you and chris disappearing together..

contains: smut, sneaking off with chris, semi-public sex, swearing.

-----------------------..••°°°°••..--------------------—-

chris and i have been close since the start of highschool, he introduced me to his brothers, nick and matt, who i've also befriended over the past few years. tonight our whole extended friend group are meeting up on the beach for a bonfire for madis birthday.

6:39pm

i pull up my low rise denim shorts, fixing my hair in the mirror as chris watches from behind me. "chris, i think my bikini is loose, can you tighten it for me?" i ask, spinning around to look at him.

chris clears his throat, "yeah, sure." he says, walking across my bedroom to me and spinning me around. i feel his cold fingers untie my bikini top as i hold the straps.

he gently brushes my back as he tightens the top into a double-knot. "tight enough?" chris asks, i spin around a flash him a smile, "thanks!" i chirp.

"can you guys hurry the fuck up." matt groans, he's apparently 'despises' being our uber driver.

"hey mr sunshine!" i say with a sarcastic grin painted across my face as i open my bedroom door, matt just scoffs with a small laugh, hes got his car keys in his hands.

i jump into the backseat of matts mini van, nick gets in the passenger seat and chris jumps in beside me, our legs touching.

the ride to the beach is.. entertaining? matt and nick have been having a deathly argument ever since we pulled out of our driveway, and i don't think they even know what theyre arguing about now.

matt reaches behind and slaps chris's thigh,

"the fuck did i do!!" chris laughs in shock, "breathing so loud, you sound like your battling your fucking demons back there." matt mumbles as he parallel parks into a spot.

chris taps my inner thigh with 2 fingers, "ready to go?" he asks i nod shyly, my mouth open slightly. chris climbs out of the backseat, i follow close behind, stepping out on to the footpath, covered in small grains of sand. i follow behind the triplets, the beach is completley empty apart from a small cluster of people.

"matt!" nate calls out from the sand about 50 meters away, waving his hand above his head. i jog over to them, dramatically leaping into madis arms,

theres about 35 people all scattered on the sand around a heaped pile of sticks, before i can look for chris i hear a small cheer as a boy lights up the pile of sticks, the orange rays illuminating the grains of sand around the fire.

i run over to the triplets who are sat on the sand is a small cluster, i plop myself down next to them, sparking up a conversation as people start to pull alcohol out of nowhere.

9:47pm

im laying on chris's chest as lively music blares through the night air, he breathes in and out calmly. the sun has fully set, the only light on the beach is the burnt out bonfire, sand kicks up as everyone charges towards the ocean,

i sit up, looking down at chris who has his eyes shut peacefully, the only people left on the beach are all drunk and obnoxiously loud. "chris." i tap him lightly, his eyes flutter open.

"mhm?" he asks, sitting up. his features are perfectly sculptured by the dim light, his hair resting on his forehead. the chain around his neck clings to his bare chest, the only thing on his body are dark blue swim shorts.

i grab his hand, standing up and brushing myself off. i drag chris behind the sand dunes. "you okay?" he asks, i stand infront of him, grabbing his jaw and staring at his lips.

before i can lean in, chris connects our lips hungrily, his hand snaking around my waist and back. i feel the same hands that were tying my bikini 3 hours ago, now frantically undoing it. my bikini falls to our feet, chris pulls away from the kiss, his eyes roaming up and down my body.

chris sits down on the sand, i straddle him as he pulls off his swim shorts. i undo my denim shorts, my bikini bottoms follow.

chris stares into my eyes, our heathy breaths accompanying the silence. "you want to?" chris asks, gripping my waist. "obviously" i tease "gonna have to be nice and quiet for me? yeah?" chris asks, i nod.

“you sure i mean-“ he starts again, i cut him off

“chris we will talk about all of this tomorrow, i need you now”

his hands move to my ass, he hovers me right above his tip before sinking me down slowly, i slam a hand over my mouth “shit.” i moan, the noise muffled by my palm.

“you got it.” chris says, his voice shaky.

i start to bounce up and down on his length, chris also thrusts up into me, filling me up.

chris flips us over, keeping himself inside of me. his chain dangles infront of me as he starts to pound into me, the sand moving below me.

i let out a scream of his name as he repeatedly pounds into me at just the right angle “please fuck!”

chris slams a hand over my lips, his eyes locking with mine, “be quiet.” he almost demands,

“chris i’m close” i groan into his cold hand, he shakes his head,

“no not yet.” he manages to squeeze out, his voice strained.

i start to clench around chris with every thrust, barely audible whimpers escape chris each time i do, i can tell its driving him crazy.

“cum for me, right now” chris says, his thrusts increasing in intensity,

i do, releasing around him, my nails clawing his back repeatedly, he thrusts into me one last time before pulling out, stroking himself once before painting the sand white.

chris and i lay still next to eachother for about a minute, attempting to catch our breath.

“you okay?” chris asks with a small laugh. “yeah, more than okay.” i say back, starting to redress myself.

chris pulls up his shorts before helping me up off the sand, he takes my hand and runs me down to the beach, “chris!” i laugh as he scoops me off my feet and runs towards the ocean, where all of our friends are.

he sprints into the water, throwing me a meter before tripping up and slamming face first into a wave.

i erupt into laughter as he stands up, casually running a hand through his soaked hair.

“yo chris!?” a boy calls out, swimming over to him,

“yeah?” he replies, i watch him as he spins around to face the boy,

“who the fuck was scraping your back, you’ve got red nail lines like everywhere” the boy laughs,

chris’s head snaps round to look at me before swimming over to me, scooping me up for the second time tonight and throwing me into the water.

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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vainvenus · 1 month

Text

⌲;꒰ Pretty please!! ꒱

Characters :: John "B" Routledge, JJ Maybank, Pope Heyward, Rafe Cameron.

Synopsis :: You ask your boyfriend to do a simple task for you just to see if he will.

Includings :: Short drabbles, established relationships, acts of service, nicknames, just lots of fluff, maybe ooc Rafe

An :: Just because I think this trend is adorable

« J. Routledge »

"JB, can you pick out the pomegranate seeds for me? I don't like how sticky it is."

John B glanced back over at you as he stated at the Pomegranate and his lips press together in a thin line.

"Why didn't you get it in the cups? Where it's already all seeds?" He asks and you shrug, still holding the fruit out.

"It's sweeter this way. Please?"

He doesn't want to do it, not because he just doesn't want to; but because he doesn't really know how to peel a pomegranate.

But he nods with a smile as he grabs it from you and moves to grab the cutting board. "Of course, baby."

|★|

« J. Maybank »

"JJ can you pretty please with cherries on top peel this orange for me?"

JJ chuckles a bit as he raises his brows in slight amusement, tilting his head towards you.

"What? Can't peel it on your own?"

He snickers, sort of making fun of you and you just shrug, holding it out to him again and he rolls his eyes playfully as he takes it from you.

He digs his nails into the skin of the fruit as he peels it back. He's a bit messy with it, but he gets the job done.

He takes one of the slices, popping it into his mouth and hands you the rest.

"There. Is there anything else of yours that I can peel off?"

|★|

« P. Heyward »

"Pope! Tie my shoe, please."

"Of course." Pope hums and stops right in his tracks, he doesn't even question it or give you a confused look.

He gets down on his knees, patting one for you to place your shoe on his knee and he brings your hand to his shoulder to use as leverage.

He smiles as he ties your shoe, a simple task that he knows you could have done yourself but he doesn't mind doing it for you.

He taps your other shoe so both of them are tied the same and have less of a chance of untying without you even having to say anything.

He finished both shoes and dusts off his knees as he grabs your hand, entwining it with his and he places a kiss on your temple.

"There. Anything else you need?"

|★|

« R. Cameron »

"Rafee! Can you reapply my lipgloss?"

Rafe looks over at you, not quite hearing you the first time so he walks over to you, leaning his golf club against the golf cart where your seated.

"What was that, princess?" He hums when he finally got close enough and you hold out your [f/color] lipgloss tube.

"I asked if you could reapply my lipgloss for me."

He's amused and a bit astonished at your request because it's so simple for you to do it yourself. He even narrows his gaze at you a little bit and you only smile.

"Are you fucking with me?"

"So is that a no?"

He inhales deeply and sighs, grabbing it from you. "Fine."

Rafe grabs your face softly to tilt your head up as you pucker your lips at him and he applies the lipgloss to your top and bottom lip in a fresh glossy coat.

"There. All better now?"

You nod, smiling and he can't help but smile back as he places a kiss on your lips and you groan that he messed it up.

He only shrugs and leans back in for another.

#obx x reader #obx drabble #john b routledge #john b x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank drabble #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward drabble #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron drabble

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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

Text

never grow up part two

summary: chris and sunny's friendship is put to the test as they navigate new changes between them, following them having sex

angstyyyyyyyyyy part 1 part 3

Every morning at the Sturniolo’s house starts the same. Chris and I are always the last out of bed even though we wake up before everyone else. We spend hours talking and laughing and avoiding interaction with anyone else. Even when we were just friends, we just wanted to be alone together.

Now, things are slightly different.

I woke up with Chris’ arms enclosed around my body. He never was the type to cuddle, but maybe it’s because he’s going back to LA in a few days that he feels like he should hold onto me until that time comes.

I had forgotten about that. The whole fact that he’d have to leave soon.

He shifts a bit beneath me, stirring awake. His eyes search for mine, looking for a sign that I’m awake too. I close my eyes quickly, but with a laugh beneath me, I know I wasn’t fast enough.

“I saw that,” he says. “What are you pretending you’re sleeping for?”

“You looked so cute, I didn’t want to wake you up. I thought if I pretended to sleep then you’d go back to sleep and I could admire you longer.”

He smiles softly, pulling me closer. “You’re adorable.” My heart races a little. “You liked that, huh?” he asks, feeling my heart against his chest.

I push myself off of him, rolling my eyes. “Shut up.”

Flashbacks from last night come rushing in like a storm cloud, preparing to strike me with every mistake we may have made. I don’t want to think that sex with Chris was a mistake, but I can’t let myself feel these things for him if he’s going back to LA, which is of course going to happen.

From the kiss, to the sex, to us cuddling after, every touch of our bodies felt like a rush of electricity until we were destined to burn out.

“You hungry?” he snaps me out of my daze where my thoughts started consuming me. “Mom’s making french toast. Your favorite.”

Mom. Because she was never just his mom. She was always a second mother to me.

“And yours,” I remind him.

He smiles, nodding in agreement. “That’s why we work so well together.”

Then, he kisses me.

It’s so natural like he hasn’t even thought about it. Like he didn’t have to. Like it’s everything he’s been wanting to do.

“I need to change. I’ll be down in a minute though,” I give him a half smile, realizing that I’m in nothing more than my underwear and Chris’ old t-shirt.

He kisses my forehead, then leaves the room.

I pull on a pair of Chris’ sweatpants and a hoodie, covering myself head to toe in his wardrobe. When I walk downstairs, no one says anything about me wearing his clothes. No one cares. This is how it’s always been, even before he was burying himself inside of me last night.

“Morning, Sunny,” Matt says through a mouthful of his breakfast. He washes it down with a swig of orange juice, barely looking up at me as he eats and tries to talk at the same time.

I sit next to him as Chris’ mom makes me a plate of food, sliding it down in front of me. Chris stands by the fridge, pouring himself some water from the dispenser in the fridge. I look up, catching his eye.

He starts to smile at me, the smallest smile that sends a zoo of butterflies scattering through my body.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Nick exclaims, tossing his arms up towards Chris as he looks down at the puddle of water on the floor he just stepped into.

Chris’ eyes go wide at the glass of water overflowing in his hand, dripping into a small pond on the floor.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Dude, clean it up!” Matt adds, this time without his mouth full.

“I am dipshit!” he calls back, dropping a towel on the floor and swiping it on the tile with his foot.

Chris sits to the left of me at the island, eating his breakfast silently.

With some small talk being made as everyone eats, the only thing I’m focused on is Chris’ taps onto my foot with his own.

“Something funny?” Matt asks, noticing my smile and quiet giggles as I play footsie with his brother.

“Sorry, it’s nothing.”

—

“You’re lying!” I yell at him.

“I’m not!” he shouts back, inches from my face.

“You’re a fucking liar!”

“And you’re overdramatic!”

“You do remember, you’re just embarrassed.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why would I want to remember me throwing up after I had my first kiss.”

I erupt into laughter as he finally gives into his embarrassing memory. He punches my arm forcefully.

“HEY!”

“I was 12 and scared! And I chugged like three sodas beforehand so yeah, I thought I was gonna burp, and then I threw up. Laugh it up.”

“Oh, I will,” I tease him further, watching him shake his head at me.

“Mmm,” he hums, nodding his head at me as he brings his face closer to mine, brushing our noses as our lips find each other.

I give him a quick kiss, making him whine as I pull away.

“More,” he says, his eyes closed as he smiles.

I peck his lips again, just for him to ask for more.

“Chris!” I scold him, laughing.

“What!” he shouts back defensively. “I’m making up for lost time here.”

I find myself giving in, just like I always do. I give into everything that screams his name. I give into anything that gives me some of him, even though now I have all of him.

Our lips press together like it’s everything that we’re supposed to be. His hand holds my face, and as the kiss grows from soft pecks to a heavier makeout, I’m eternally grateful that we came to my house. Two nights at his place would be too suspicious. We would always alternate houses as kids.

He sits on my couch in my new apartment that I share with my college roommate. Luckily, she’s at work. With him in Boston for now, we don’t have to worry about alternating houses. If he wants to stay here and sleep in my bed and hold me and kiss me while we sleep, we don’t need anyone’s permission anymore. That’s what I remind myself as I climb into his lap.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers against my lips.

Baby.

Not Sunny.

Not even my real name.

He calls me baby.

I can’t even kiss him for a second because of the way my lips curl into a smile.

He pulls back and looks at me, analyzing my expression. “What’s that for?”

“You called me baby.”

I feel his body release a casual shrug. “It’s nothing,” he says.

But to me it’s everything.

I smile into another kiss, holding him close. His hands grip my hips, shifting me slightly on his crotch. A gasp escapes my lips, just enough noise for him to break our mouths apart and lock his eyes on mine, watching the satisfaction rise through my body.

“I love learning what you like,” he nods, flicking his eyes all over my face. “I never remember ever having to learn something new about you. This is so refreshing. I love having more of you.”

My hips dip forward, searching for some sort of release of the ache as I feel my clit begging for attention. As I rock my hips on him, I find the strength between my staggered breathing to say, “I’m yours.”

He raises his thumb to my bottom lip, pulling it downward. His eyes are full of lust as he sucks his own lip in between his teeth, biting down on it hard like he’s holding himself back.

“You always have been.”

I just about melt into him, the kiss pulling us together like the strongest magnets. Even on opposite sides of the country, we’re destined to be drawn together.

He wraps his arms around my lower back, holding me tight as he pulls me into his body, picking me up slightly and laying me down on the length of the couch, all without letting his mouth leave mine.

“I don’t want to know a world where I’m not your number one girl,” I confess to him, the words slipping out of me as I know our events of last night could have changed everything between us.

“Well,” he starts to say, making me freeze. “Apart from my mom and maybe my future daughter, you’re definitely number one.”

Good answer.

His mouth dips to my neck, pushing his own sweatshirt on my body aside as he searches for the spot with the easiest access, but can also double as a sweet spot that will have me begging him for more.

As he places sloppy kisses on my neck and his hands push against my stomach, I have a random rush on panic in my body, like I need answers before I need him inside of me again.

“Chris?”

“Hmm,” he lets out a hum, trying not to break contact between us.

“We need to talk.”

He groans, but not the kind filled with pleasure. He sounds pissed off. “Right now?”

I nod. “Yes, right now.”

He sits up on his knees. “Can you give me like… ten minutes?”

I shake my head.

He lets out a gentle sigh, not one of annoyance, but rather an exhale after the rush of our bodies that we had been looking for until I stopped it.

He runs his hand through his hair, correcting the placement of his curls after I threw them off as we kissed and started touching each other. “What’s up?”

I struggle to find the right words to tell him what is going on inside my brain. How do I make him understand that I’m terrified of losing our friendship because of us having sex, or that I’m scared to ruin our friendship through a relationship, but all I’ve thought of growing up is what it would be like to know he was my boyfriend, and no one else's?

“I just – I think– Last night,” I struggle, but the words start to form. “I had a lot of fun last night. It was really good. And right now, I want to do that again… I just–”

Chris’ expression changes numerous times as I take him on a mental journey with me. He looks worried, then smiles, then looks worried again.

“We don’t have to have sex again right now,” he reminds me. “I just thought you wanted to because you got in my lap but I should have asked–”

“No,” I interrupt him, almost too passionate about the topic of sex with him, but hey, that’s years of pent up frustration coming out. “It’s not about the sex.”

“You sure?” he pushes a bit further, raising an eyebrow at me.

I nod. “It has nothing to do with the sex… entirely…” I’m ruining this by speaking. “I’ve liked you for so long, Chris.”

I watch him swallow. It’s like he’s nervous. He doesn’t say anything.

So I continue and hope that he interrupts me at some point.

“I’ve always liked you and I always wanted something more in our friendship but if that never happened, I was okay with that, because we were Sunny and Chris, and that was always enough. But after last night, and the way things have been going all day… I guess I’ve just been thinking about how things might be if we… you know… tried.”

“Tried what?” he asks me blankly.

I blink at him a few times, waiting for it to register, but it never does.

“A relationship,” I say simply.

His face contorts.

My heart just about fucking stops functioning.

“Why would we do that?”

I don’t bother hiding the fact that my face fell in front of him. I scoot back a bit, feeling uncomfortable with being so brave and outspoken. I shouldn’t have said anything at all, but as I juggle that idea, I remember that he started this. I have no reason to doubt what I thought he felt. He gave me this.

“We had sex last night,” I remind him, as if he could possibly forget.

“I know that. I’m saying… why would we start a relationship just because we had sex?”

He waits for me to say something back, but I’m at a loss for words. I’m treading water in the deepest of oceans, and all I want right now is to fucking drown and never come back up after this.

“It was just sex,” he adds.

That sucks me underwater, and I’m struggling to breathe.

Except in real life, it pushes me to stand up in front of him, taking control. “Just sex?!”

The scariest part of this is that he doesn’t even look like he feels that he’s said anything wrong.

“Sun–”

“I don’t just have sex, Chris,” I cut him off, the fear, anger, sadness, and sudden regret pour out of me. “And I would never just have sex with you. I had sex with you because I thought things were different. I thought you wanted me differently. And now that we’ve had sex, you’re just gonna go back to LA and we’re gonna what? Go back to not speaking on the phone and only communicating through meaningless Snapchats?”

He stares at the floor, not a thought leaving his head and entering his mouth, clearly, because he says nothing back.

“If you can’t figure this out on your own with that college brain, then I have nothing else to say to you,” he finally says. He grabs his phone and adjusts his clothing before he stands up and places himself inches from my face. “Figure it out and then call me.”

“What does me being in college have to do with this?” I ask.

“You know exactly what it means!” he says, his volume much louder than before, catching me off guard. “You act like you’re so much higher than me-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” I interject quickly. “I was always the person supporting you and telling you to chase your dreams. I was always the one telling everyone that you were gonna make it big.”

“Right, but you don’t want me to go to LA.”

He starts walking away, and without hesitating, I run after him.

“This isn’t about LA!” I shout. “This is about you and me!”

He spins around on his feet, his face inches from mine as he yells back, “I know that!”

“It’s about you and if you’re ready to be in a relationship, and if you’re willing to do distance for us-”

“Are you serious? If I’m willing?” he argues, stepping closer to me. I step back. It’s like I don’t know him anymore. “I’ve been following you around like an abandoned puppy since the day we met and you’re still asking yourself what I want?”

I let my voice drop to a much lower volume, practically a mumble. “What do you want?”

“YOU! I WANT YOU!”

I fall silent. My eyes fill with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. He’s here. I haven’t lost him. We just have to get through this new part of us.

“Do you want me?” he asks, noticing my silence as I tried to gather my thoughts.

Of course I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and I always will.

I want to be your biggest fan, on the sidelines watching you succeed and achieve every dream I remember you telling me about as we colored with sidewalk chalk as kids until we skinned our fingers from rubbing the chalk into the pavement too hard.

I don’t know how long we’ve been in silence. I don’t know how long I’ve been having a mental battle with myself.

I want to be with Chris, but I don’t think we want each other the same way.

I want to have a relationship with him. I want to call him mine and know that he’s no one else’s. I want to look at pictures of us as kids and laugh, thinking about how things have changed.

He wants freedom, and he wants to have fun. I was there, and we didn’t give ourselves to each other. I gave myself to him, and he gave me the Chris that he gives every girl in LA. He made me think I was more than that to him. I should be more than that, and that’s what makes me hesitant above all.

When he goes back to LA, everything falls back to the way it was, and that’s the last thing I want. Yet, I can’t bring myself to beg for change, because I know it won’t happen unless he wants this too.

“Cool,” nods. He tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and slips his shoes on. He heads to the door and says, “I’ve spent my entire life chasing after someone who couldn’t give a fuck about me.”

Then, he leaves.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld @sturniolovoid @aerunn @sturniolosmind @oliviasturniolo21 @carolsturns1 @scarssturniolo @stuniolobbg @sturniolowhore

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #strawberrysturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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monarchberrysblog · 2 months

Note

Giving miguel backscratches. Idk saw requests open and i just had to. Theres a spot he just cant reach. Also miguel giving backscratches sounds awesome, dudes got killer nails. Tho maybe his nails would hurt idk

𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰

Miguel O’Hara x GN! Reader

Summary: Your man loves some good back scratches.

Content Warning ⚠️: none lmao

Word Count: 837 words 😋

Author’s Note: Yes. I would DIE to give this man back stretched and for his talons to tear at my flesh and—

This isn't proofread, and mostly wrote this having the reader no pronouns and gender-neutral terms (if there are any)

To my readers who love their baby girls (men who have emotional trauma and baggage), this is for you 💌

The gentle pitter-patter of the cool rainwater created a soft, soothing melody that danced against the glass window. Its rhythmic beat was reminiscent of the delicate tapping of fingertips on a hollow, wooden desk, providing a sense of calm that embraced anyone in its embrace—a three-wick candle flickers from nearby, creating a cozy ambiance. The cozy smell of clean linen immediately filled the space while in a queen-sized bed, someone squirmed underneath the soft blankets and shoved some throw pillows away from them.

Slowly emerging from the sherpa blankets surrounding you, a big yawn escaped before you rubbed your eyes and looked around your room. It was the same old, same old—the cozy blankets and pillows, with a couple of plushies accompanying your bed.

Sighing in defeat, you tucked yourself back into the blankets and looked at the flickering candle. “When is he coming home…?”

The colorful hues of tangy orange, yellow, and red filled the space immediately.

As you lay in bed, lost in your thoughts, a deep sigh echoes through the silent room, drawing your attention. Slowly raising your head from under the covers, you glimpse Miguel's entrance. His tired yet friendly eyes meet yours, and a faint smile spreads across his lips, revealing a sense of relief upon seeing you awake.

“Hola…” He sighed, slowly making his way to your dresser, and dug around for his sweats that he always left behind. You let out another yawn before nodding your head.

The tangy colors that filled the room vanished as you looked over to see Miguel in his Spiderman suit still and slipped into his sweatpants. “Lyla, turn off the suit.” The unbodied AI responded quickly as his suit was deactivated immediately.

Miguel flopped onto your bed with a suddenness that startled you. The impact of his body caused a few of the plushies and decorative pillows to tumble to the floor while you bounced slightly from the force of his literal collapse onto the bed. “Hey,” You cooed to him before you placed your hand on his back, feeling his taut muscles underneath the pads of your fingers. A simple grunt from your partner was a good indicator that the man had a long day and wanted nothing to do but sleep and relax.

“Can you move your hand upwards?” Miguel grumbles to you, face-planted onto your pillows. Slowly, you moved your hand up and massaged the taut muscle. “No, cariño. Don't massage it. Can you scratch that spot?” You hummed to him in response and lightly scratched at the irritated spot. “How is that?” You whispered to him. He only grumbled in response, causing you to chuckle.

If Miguel wanted to, he could sleep through a tornado if he wanted to. The inconsistent sleep schedules were always a concern; however, the man managed to get seven hours of sleep per day, surprisingly. It was at an unhealthy consistency, but this was the first time in two weeks you had seen him on your bed, collapsed on top of plushies and pillows.

Miguel let out a contented sigh as your fingernails scratched his muscles, leaving an invigorating sensation in their wake. "Yes, thank you, cariño," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. He could feel his body responding to your touch, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. "Add a bit more force," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fox plushie he held tightly in his embrace.

You complied with his request, scratching a bit more aggressively, your fingernails kneading his flesh expertly. He let out a deep moan of pleasure, lost in the sensation. "There...move to the left, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. You hummed in response, your fingers working their magic, as you inched to the left.

"A little bit more," he urged, his voice growing more urgent. You complied, your fingers dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, completely lost in the moment.

"Alright, that's enough," he breathed out heavily. You instinctively hummed in acknowledgment before gently massaging the reddened and irritated area, which offered him a sense of relief. "How are we doing?" You turned to face Miguel, draping the soft and cozy blanket over him to provide some much-needed warmth.

As his hand moved towards your thigh, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. You felt a firm grip on the soft muscle of your thigh, his nails digging into your supple and warm flesh. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that he should be careful. The tips of his talons lightly punctured your thighs, with the talon in his thumb lightly drawing a puncture wound, drawing a trickle of blood. “Easy there…” You cooed to him, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles. The talons on the pads of his thumb retracted like a cat, and immediately felt his calloused touch.

“Everything is great now that I'm here…”

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel fluff

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vanteguccir · 3 months

Text

Cooking together | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N teaches Chris how to cook a typical sweet from her country.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @gfgcgntxrhg

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Honey?" Y/N called in a low tone. Her steps were light and almost muted by the orange socks that reached up to her calf, which she had grabbed from Chris's drawer.

Her eyes darted around the kitchen briefly, before finally finding her boyfriend, who was standing between the dark brown table and the open refrigerator, his right hand holding the door while his left rested on his chin, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What are you doing?" The girl asked, approaching her boyfriend as she looked into the fridge, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I wanted to make something different for us to eat." His arms fell over his body and hit his hips in frustration.

Chris and Y/N were getting ready to start a movie marathon. The two were already lying on the double bed, their bodies covered by the fluffy duvet. The lights were turned off, the television on being the only source of lighting between the four walls; when the boy had the idea of popping popcorn to accompany them.

About 15 minutes had passed and Chris still hadn't returned to the room with the snack, and Y/N had no choice but to see what he was up to. She knew that her boyfriend had a childish soul and that if he was left unsupervised for too long, he could destroy the whole house.

"Didn't you want popcorn, baby?" Y/N questioned, moving closer and closing the fridge door.

Chris turned to her with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I wanted to, but I'm hungry, and I want something sweet." The boy said, leaning on the table behind him and crossing his arms.

He didn't know exactly what he could have made for them to eat if Y/N hadn't shown up, he didn't know how to cook anything at all and he would have definitely burned any idea he had.

"You know bakeries can cook for us, right? I can order delivery, honey. That bakery you like is still open." Y/N informed, taking half of her phone out of her hoodie pocket and quickly looking at the time before putting it away again.

"No, I want something homemade." Chris continued, tapping his right foot lightly against the floor. He really could act like a child when he wanted to.

Y/N sighed as she looked around, her mind trying to come up with ideas of something they could cook that was sweet and got ready quickly.

She took a few steps towards the cabinet on the left side of the refrigerator, opening the doors with her hands and looking through the items, a smile appearing on her lips when she saw exactly what she was looking for.

"We're making brigadeiro." Y/N informed as she grabbed the ingredients she would need.

"Briga- what?" Chris tried to utter, moving closer to his girlfriend as he looked at the items in her hands curiously.

Y/N let out a laugh, placing the ingredients on the counter next to the stove, turning to her boyfriend.

"Brigadeiro." She spoke slowly and clearly. "It's a Brazilian sweet, I sent you a picture of it once when I was back in São Paulo, but you saw it in the birthday party format, which is a small ball with sprinkles."

"Oh, I remember!" The brunette spoke excitedly, nodding his head. "But are there other formats?"

"Yes, you can use brigadeiro in everything and in every way, literally. But the easiest and quickest is to make it in a pot, also known as spoon brigadeiro, which is what we're going to do right now." Y/N turned to face the ingredients, arranging them in order of use. "Get me a medium pot, baby. Please."

The girl took her phone out of her pocket, resting it on the counter behind where the ingredients were, so that the screen was staring back at her. Her fingers worked on opening the camera and going to the video tab, clicking the red button to start recording.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked after standing up again, having bent down to pick up a pot from the cupboards on the floor, placing the requested object on the stove while looking at her phone recording them in confusion.

"I need to record this moment. My boyfriend is going to learn how to make his first Brazilian cuisine, and it's my favorite sweet." Y/N smiled big, turning to her boyfriend and sealing his cheek with her lips, stroking the skin lightly with the tip of her nose.

Chris smiled back, pulling her by the waist and kissing her forehead softly, before releasing her so they could begin.

"Okay, for this recipe, we'll only need butter, chocolate powder, and condensed milk. Thank God I brought some condensed milk from Brazil when I went last time. The ones here don't turn out the same." The girl explained to Chris, who was watching her closely.

"Butter and chocolate?" He asked as he wrinkled his nose in discomfort.

"Honey, butter is part of the ingredients of at least 80% of the cakes we eat anywhere." Y/N's tone was obvious, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Alright, chef." Chris raised his arms in surrender, earning a laugh from his girlfriend.

She opened one of the drawers on the counter and took out two tablespoons and a silicone spoon, which they would use to stir the brigadeiro over the heat, placing the three items on the counter before turning to Chris.

"What?" He asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"You will do it, and I will watch." Y/N replied, shrugging her shoulders and receiving wide eyes in response.

"Do you want to kill us both?"

"Don't be dramatic!" She smiled in amusement before pointing to the ingredients. "First, you'll need a tablespoon of butter."

Chris took the jar of butter and opened the lid carefully. His hand reached for one of the spoons and dipped it into the contents before looking at his girlfriend, waiting for the next step.

"You can put it in the pot." She indicated, pointing to the pot as she leaned her hips against the counter, watching him carefully.

Chris tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot a few times until all the butter contents were in before throwing the spoon into the sink.

"Perfect, now you're going to need four tablespoons of chocolate powder." The girl instructed, pushing the chocolate towards Chris.

"Four of chocolate for one of butter? Won't it be too thick?" The boy asked, wrinkling his nose as he lifted the chocolate powder packaging, looking briefly at the label.

"No, baby, there's still the condensed milk. I normally only add three tablespoons when I make it in Brazil, but because the one there has more sugar than the one here." She explained, waving her right hand for him to continue.

The boy raised his hands in surrender before opening the lid of the package, dipping the spoon into the brown powder and taking it out before throwing the contents into the pot. He repeated the action three more times, counting low each time so as not to get lost in the count, earning a laugh from Y/N.

"That's it. Now it's condensed milk." Y/N took the chocolate powder and the spoon from Chris's hands, throwing the spoon in the sink next to the other and closing the package before taking scissors. "You can cut off the top and throw everything into the pot."

"Everything? Do you want to give me diabetes?" Chris's blue eyes were wide as he stared at the condensed milk packaging as if it were a monster.

"Enough with the drama." The girl spoke with a smile in her voice, pushing the condensed milk and scissors into Chris's hands, who took them.

"If I die, it's her fault." The boy whispered to the phone's front camera, looking sideways at his girlfriend, who was rolling her eyes.

"Hurry up." She ordered, pushing the boy's hips with her own.

He sighed, cutting off the top edge of the package before returning the scissors to Y/N, turning it over the pot and squeezing the wrapper, watching the pasty liquid drain completely.

"That doesn't feel right." The boy muttered, placing the empty package on the counter next to him and staring at the ingredients together inside the pot, before grabbing the handles and turning it on its side, showing it to the camera. "It looks like-"

"If you drop it on the stove, you'll be the one cleaning it all up. This is full of sugar. Ants will come, and Matt will kill you." Y/N interrupted, slapping Chris on the shoulder and pulling his arms so he could put the pot right on the stove again.

"But it doesn't make any sense." He scratched the back of his head with his right hand, looking at his girlfriend with uncertainty in his eyes.

"When it's done, you'll see that it will look better than it does now." The girl spoke, dipping the index finger of her left hand into the condensed milk before taking it into her mouth, sucking out all the contents.

"Hey! Don't touch my work." He shouted, looking at Y/N with an offended look.

"If you don't turn on the heat and start stirring, it will never become a "work"." Y/N snorted while making quotation mark gestures with her fingers before pointing at the stove.

Chris rolled his eyes, turning to the stove again and turning on the heat under the pot before taking a step back and looking at it.

"Are you just going to watch and wait for it to be ready by itself?" Y/N's voice came out loud, her hand working on quickly grabbing the silicone spoon and placing it inside the pot, lowering the heat before it burned. "You have to stir constantly, baby. Otherwise, it will burn, and sugar burns very quickly." She informed, taking Chris' right hand and leading it to the spoon, before taking his left and bringing it to the left handle of the pot, keeping it steady there so that it didn't move with his movements.

"Ah, obviously, I already knew that." He said with a shrug, his cheeks turning red as a smile appeared on his face due to Y/N's laughter.

"Okay, that's it. Wait, you have to move it like this." Y/N murmured, positioning herself behind Chris and taking his right hand with her own, standing on tiptoe and placing her left hand on his waist to maintain her balance, starting to move the spoon with her boyfriend.

Her head was the only part of her that the camera captured, being shorter than Chris, his body covered her completely. She had her head tilted to their right side, next to his covered shoulder, looking intently at the stove.

Chris briefly looked at the phone screen that showed them back, letting out a laugh at their position.

"It seems the roles have changed." He teased, pushing his ass back so that it pushed Y/N's body slightly. She firmed her grip on her boyfriend's covered waist to keep from falling, pinching the skin lightly.

"Hey, if it burns, I won't do it again, and you'll eat it burnt!" She exclaimed, joining Chris in his laughter seconds later, rolling her eyes and turning her attention back to the pot.

It didn't take long, and soon the brigadeiro was at the right point. Y/N let go of Chris's right hand and turned off the heat, before starting to move away from his body, but her action was interrupted by him, who turned and pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in the crook of her neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin for a few seconds, before sealing the area momentarily.

"Thank you, baby."

The girl let out a laugh at the tickle that Chris's beard caused on her skin, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head, squeezing him lightly, before taking a step back.

"Come on, silly. Let's eat." She spoke, taking his right hand and making him stand next to the stove before picking up a round ceramic plate and two smaller bowls.

Y/N lifted the pot by one of the handles with her left hand while holding the silicone spoon with her right, turning it onto the plate.

"Hold the plate for me, baby. Please." She asked, and Chris didn't take long to do so, watching the way her tongue escaped between her lips in concentration, a smile appearing on his face as his blue eyes traveled over the features he loved so much. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to drop it on the counter." The girl whispered, her cheeks taking on a red hue.

Chris let out a laugh, suppressing his desire to shower her with kisses.

Y/N tipped almost all of the brown content onto the plate with the help of the spoon before straightening the pot and taking it over the two bowls, dividing what was left inside each one.

"What are these for?" The boy asked, dropping the plate he still held on the counter and looking at the bowls in confusion.

"Nick and Matt." She responded simply, finishing all the contents of the sweet before placing the pot in the sink, filling it with water and making a mental note to wash it before going to sleep, so as not to get ants from the sugar. "Would you like to taste it?" The girl asked, bringing the spoon closer to Chris's face, who had a soft smile on his face.

Chris felt himself falling in love with Y/N all over again every time she remembered her brothers when they were doing something, including them even if they weren't there; he loved the way she took care of the three of them with so much love and affection, like a family.

The boy nodded, opening his mouth slightly and bringing his face closer to Y/N's hand, wrapping his lips around the silicone spoon and licking the contents. His blue eyes instantly widened at the taste. It wasn't extremely sugary like he thought it would be. It was just the right amount of sweet.

His hand quickly took the spoon from Y/N's hand and finished licking it all, as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted - and maybe it really was.

The girl leaned over the counter and took her phone back, waving at the camera before stopping the recording, making a mental note to rewatch it the next day and, perhaps, post a snippet for the fans who loved seeing videos of the two of them together.

"I told you it was good." Y/N spoke as she laughed at his reaction, putting her cell in the pocket of her hoodie and opening the cutlery drawer, taking out four small spoons and placing one in each bowl and two on the plate. "Now, help me take this to your brothers."

"Yes, ma'am."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"I'm so happy she posted this moment for us all to see together 😭"

"chris is such a drama queen 💀"

"omg that must have been so good 😫"

"Y/N separating a little for Nick and Matt, this is so sweet 🥺"

"Y/N standing behind Chris to help him make the brigadeiro LMAO that's so cute"

"Chris counting the spoonfuls of chocolate so he doesn't lose the count 😭😔"

"they are so beautiful together omg"

"I want what these bitches have 😔"

"petition for Y/N to make TikToks of her teaching Chris how to cook different things ✏️📄"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu

(If you want to be added to the taglist, comment here, please)

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

Text

Supernatural Harem Reader using their housemates odd quirks for their benefit-

Tapping the demon's spine, you motion for him to bend down as he faces you. "Open. Bottom mouth."

"Okay?" Baron relaxes his jaw, black tongue over his jagged teeth as you pull a slender stick from your pocket. You press the end of the cigarette into his tongue, watching closely as a halo of orange illuminates the area. You take the lit cigerette and wedged it between your lips as you pat his jaw, walking off with a - "Thanks."

Baron straightens as he watches you exit - swishing tails knocking into a nearby vase. "Great, now I'm horny again.

The angel shifts beneath your weight as you fluff his feathers. "Not that i mind being your pillow, the contrary really, but I do need to get started on dinner. I just replaced the ones Baron tore."

"This is better. Quiet, we'll order something." You plant your face in his feathers; a full body shutter running through him centering from his spine as your breath fans his sensitive wings."

"A-as you wish."

The reaper stares back at you nervous as you stare them down. "It's pretty hot outside today."

Maddox shakes their head. "No."

"Mad, I am sweating bullets."

"What if I hurt you?...."

"Maddox, sweetheart, your heart is literally in my chest. I think I'm gonna be okay."

"...I haven't cut my nails in a minute..."

"Please don't let me sweat to death, Mad. I know you're shy but it's alright if you touch me."

Maddox slowly nods, removing tgeir gloves and extending their hands out. They flinch as their cold digits make contact with your bare chest and stomach - gradually soothed by the heartbeat beneath their touch. They smile slightly as you pull them in, kissing away tears.

"See? It's okay."

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere harem #yandere angel #yandere reaper #yandere demon

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httpiastri · 3 months

Text

snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

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waldau · 4 months

Text

little things — jeon wonwoo | 1,497 words | fluff

(or, three things that remind you wonwoo's another person like you, and not just one of the most popular idols in the world)

sometimes i shell walnuts for my family because (incoherent sounds) (something akin to peeling an orange for people you love) (they love walnuts more than i do)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

you know for a fact that jeon wonwoo is a superstar.

he's extremely popular. he travels the world for his work. you're not the only person in the world who has a crush on him or is in love with him. but you are the only person who gets to have him like this — watching him do the dishes while you're sitting on the sink counter and kicking your feet, wearing his hoodie.

you both share your household chores, but he's made sure you don't touch a single spoon or bowl because of all the cooking you do. and you're definitely not going to complain when you get to watch him work, his muscles flexing as he meticulously dries every dish he's washed.

he's currently talking about something mingyu did in practice but you're not really paying attention to his words. you're just...watching him.

he's used to it at this point in your relationship, but he still gets flustered sometimes, like he is now. you can tell by the way his head is bowed and there's a small smile on his face, and there's no doubt he's blushing, if he's going to let you look at him.

"take a picture," he says without looking up. "it'll last longer."

when you don't reply, he looks up to find you staring at him in no doubt a lovesick manner, and you're right. he is blushing, and you're filled with the sudden urge to drag him away from the dishes and kiss him silly.

"did you hear a word i said?"

"no," you say easily, finding no point in trying to act like you were listening. you're more enthralled by the fact that one of the most popular idols in the world is washing dishes in a kitchen he shares with you. dishes that are a result of an impromptu baking session at two in the morning because neither of you could sleep.

it makes you feel small for some reason, so you just scoot closer to where he's standing.

"tell me again?"

wonwoo shakes his head. "mingyu would be happy to tell you—" he cuts himself off with the most uncharacteristic, un-wonwoo sound you've heard in your life. you don't think he's ever made that sound before.

you jump off the counter to witness wonwoo wiggling his arms like those floaty things in car dealerships, like he's got a spider on his arm or something.

you're almost too afraid to ask if it is a spider because it's always wonwoo who chases away the insects in your house, but all he does is show you the sleeves of his sweatshirt. they're wet and dripping water onto the floor. you can't help but let out a little giggle despite trying your best not to.

"it's your fault," wonwoo says, pushing his sleeves up and wincing.

"excuse me?"

"your fault for sitting there and being so pretty. looking at me."

it's not often that wonwoo's what you'd call sappy, especially with his words. you hold his face in your hands, taking in the blush that's deepened when he realizes what he's said out loud. who knew your boyfriend could sing and dance for hours on end and do stuff like bungee jumping only to be defeated by wet sleeves?

"i'll do them if you read me something to sleep."

"deal."

you get startled awake by the sound of a rhythmic tapping. wonwoo isn't next to you, either. your hand reaches out to the most threatening thing you can find to defend yourself with, but you're not sure your bedside lamp is an ideal option.

"wonwoo?" you call out, hoping it's him and no one else.

the tapping sound stops immediately.

"i'm outside," he calls out, and you let out a sigh of relief. slipping into wonwoo's hoodie, you make your way to the living room, the marble floor underneath your feet cold enough to sting.

wonwoo's sitting on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the cold. when he spots you, he opens his arms wordlessly to let you settle down into his lap. he runs cold, just like you do, which gives you all the more reason to cuddle him.

"sorry, sweetheart," he says, kissing your cheek. "i didn't mean to wake you up."

"you didn't," you say, not entirely untruthfully. you'd been half-awake before you heard the sound of whatever he'd been doing in his living room. it's then that you realize there's a hammer next to his feet, a newspaper spread out before him, half filled with...walnuts? the other half of the paper has empty shells.

"what..."

"you said we ran out of walnuts yesterday, so i went to the farmer's market when you were at work. they taste really good. we should go together this week."

"...just because i said the salad could use some walnuts?"

"just because."

you turn to hide your face , blaming the early hours of the morning for all the mushiness you're feeling. your boyfriend, who has practice in a few hours, and needs his sleep more than you do, is sitting on the cold floor of your living room shelling walnuts for your salad like there's nothing else he'd rather do.

"you're too good to me."

"i'm just perfect for you," he grins, and you respond by tousling his hair till it's a mess of your liking. it's not long before you've learned how to shell them without hurting your thumb, wonwoo feeding you a stray walnut every now and then.

wonwoo's gaming setup is grander than you expected one to be. it's probably because you weren't really familiar with gaming apparatus before wonwoo, but it's also probably because he just really loves gaming.

it's not just a gaming pc with a fancy keyboard and the usual gaming chair — it's two huge screens next to each other, lighting underneath the desk and in front of him so it's good for when he needs to stream himself, as well as the usual clutter of his desk. you can tell he's as passionate about it as he is with the important things in his life.

not to mention the little polaroids of you and him, him and his friends, and some cats he's photographed strung up together that came about when he pulled you in one afternoon and asked you to help him decorate the place a bit better.

even though it's not your cup of tea, you really enjoy watching wonwoo game. he knows and likes it just as much as you do. you know wonwoo's down for teaching you whatever game you want to learn whenever the two of you are free, but you'd much rather just watch him be so focused on trying to level up. it's kind of hot, really.

there had been this one time you pulled up a chair to watch wonwoo game with seungcheol, hoshi and vernon. he spent a good chunk of time explaining the rules of the game to the others because they'd never heard of it before, but he lost his train of thought halfway through the game and kept giggling sporadically.

you really had no idea of what had been going on, and wonwoo had to take breaks in between, laughing and explaining the unfortunate situation of vernon blowing up his character again and again, repeatedly promising it was a mistake and not something he was doing for laughs.

after that, wonwoo bought a pair of earphones just so you could listen in on conversations with his friends when it wasn't a professional livestream. hearing hoshi swear repeatedly was just as funny as trying to stop yourself from laughing loud enough to alert the others of your presence.

the thing is, wonwoo's always tried to make space for you in his life in whatever little ways he can, and you're reminded of it when he lets out a soft curse, fumbling with something in his hands.

it's those same earphones you use when you sit with him and watch him play. you haven't gotten the time to use them recently, because of your busy schedules, so it's a pleasant surprise to see them in the outside world, in the walk you're currently on. but they're tangled up so badly that wonwoo isn't able to undo them.

you take them from him with his permission and untangle them quite easily. maybe you should get back to using them more often with him.

"wouldn't headphones be more convenient, though?"

wonwoo looks at you like you've asked him why it's not okay to call yourself a tiger.

"then how am i supposed to listen to music with you?"

oh, you think.

jeon wonwoo might be a superstar. he might travel the world for his work and have people in love with him to some extent, but to you, he's your boyfriend. your wet sleeves-fearing, walnut-shelling, earphones-owning boyfriend. which is simply a lot of words for the best boyfriend in the world.

#yeah. so. this happened #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes

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