#i had an all knowing god on my side. i knew better than so called “science” and “experts”
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something that i've been struggling to articulate but has been bothering me for a while is how some christians engage and interact with science and what i'm realizing is they have a like... almost love-bombing/discarding relationship with it. and i recognize science isn't a person and that's not literally happening but the christians that i grew up around have this relationship with science where it's real/valid/correct if it supports their side and fake/invalid/wrong if it doesn't. it's this like... engaging with science to get something from it when it can prove their point and condemning it when it doesn't. and this also ties into the belief that you, a layperson with no background in science, are more knowledgeable than actual scientists simply because you have god on your side, and therefore you can use science in whatever way you see fit, which means engaging with it in a way that is ultimately anti-science (but that also doesn't matter because god said it was okay). and it's exhausting engaging with these people for me because it's not that they believe all science bad, it's that they believe most science bad but some science good and they have the authority to determine what is bad and what is good, despite, again, not having a background in science (because what is a "background in science" to an all-knowing god that you have a personal relationship with?). the thing that is so frustrating to me is how these people recognize science is valued and use it to strengthen the validity of their points and to gain credibility while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge the validity of science as a field at all or put in any effort to understand/respect it.
#i know that they do this bc *i did this* because **i was taught to do this**#i would be reading a science thing and actively cherry pick if they said something about evolution or the age of the earth or climate chang#i would actively dismiss things in my brain while watching science shows or listening to lectures bc “that's not accurate bc the bible”#and like. i wouldn't have admitted i had a superiority complex when i was a christian bc i couldn't see it#but now that i'm out i *absolutely* had a superiority complex#i had an all knowing god on my side. i knew better than so called “science” and “experts”#this along with “humans are inherently evil/can't be trusted” is why i believe some xtians like#refuse to see you as the expert of your own life and experiences#“you weren't a Real Christian” “you don't have Real Happiness outside of xtianity” “you obviously didn't [xyz] while you were an xtian”#but that's another post lmao#i feel similarly about my pastor using psychology terms when he believes mental illness is a lack of faith in god#and some emotions are inherently evil#like you have no respect for this field!!!!! you are solely using it for your benefit to gain credibility and sound knowledgeable!!!!!!#i guess this is similar to appropriation conversations#they see that it is viewed as credible and want the appearance of credibility#without doing any of the work to make themselves credible#or even believing that the thing they are using is actually credible#it's so dishonest and they don't care#anyway#ex christian#ex cult
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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]
summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!
author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo
percy jackson — doodling on him
“give me your hand.”
“yes ma’am.”
minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.
“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”
he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?”
“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…”
your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.”
“whatever.”
jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes
“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?”
nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.”
a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.”
you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink.
“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"
you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."
leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows
“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth.
leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”
“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act.
your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!”
your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.”
“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.”
"i'm seriously going to kill you."
#percy jackson#jason grace#leo valdez#jason grace x reader#jason grace fic#jason grace fluff#jason grace x you#jason grace x y/n#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson fluff#pjo x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus x reader#heroes of olympus#percy jackson fandom#percy jackson headcanon#percy jackson fic#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson x yn#percy jackson x you#heroes of olympus x y/n#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x you#leo valdez fluff#leo valdez fanfic#leo valdez imagine
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oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)
Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.
or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.
― part one here!
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 15.1k
PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader | chan x afab reader
CONTENT― angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s.
SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him
WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.
NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex
~
You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.
The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further.
After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do.
Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more.
Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever.
God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time.
You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times
Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend!
You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around
Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it?
Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over.
The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most.
Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose.
You: alright, alright. what should i wear?
Chan: can you wear that one skirt
You: NO
~
Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.
You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time.
That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.
Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.
For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well.
Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even.
He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself.
The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.
Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like.
As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend.
Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind.
The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?
Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so.
Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.
When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son.
He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.
“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”
You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features.
“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”
Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.
“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space.
On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night.
The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl.
You are stupid to have come here so soon.
Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness.
“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”
He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head,
“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan.
You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could.
“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”
Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him.
When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost.
Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.
Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father?
After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.
There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be.
“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”
Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question.
“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze.
You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods.
“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”
Mingyu hums in response.
“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”
Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is.
“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”
Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod.
“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.
~
You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened.
He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom.
It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.
“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.”
You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here.
Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains.
The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.
You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you.
“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt.
“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”
You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”
A lie.
He chuckles at you with a nod.
“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable.
You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not.
“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.
“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use.
“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”
And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.
In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying.
You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him.
At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him.
You try not to hurt over it.
~
Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made.
Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend.
Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself.
You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity.
After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions.
Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.
The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly.
You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.
“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem.
Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.
For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house.
You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.
You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up.
You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you.
Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.
Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.
Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.
He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend.
Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place.
Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest?
You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably.
Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her.
There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.
She fucking smirks at you.
You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day.
It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet.
Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose.
And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages.
And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here.
Right now.
You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.
“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something.
“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl.
You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.
“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away.
You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend.
“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone.
“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!”
You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again.
“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.”
“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.”
You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.
“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”
Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.
“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again.
“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.
“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”
Only now are you actually shocked by his response.
All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing.
But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.
“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.”
And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave.
~
It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up.
You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp.
Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk?
You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him.
Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out.
Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too.
And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.
And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–
Well.
Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places?
It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker.
There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why.
Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.
Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat.
There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw.
“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern.
To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over.
“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel.
No, you won’t cry over this.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now.
“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”
Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother?
“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?”
“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”
“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”
“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will.
Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.
Mingyu really did move on.
He really did let you cut it off.
There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.
“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here.
Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off.
Still, Chan did fuck up.
What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this?
“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.”
Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it?
Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself.
Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole.
You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him.
“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.”
He looks at you, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, that would be best.”
Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid.
And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion.
Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it’s only human to want to comfort someone.
But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously.
He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls.
Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this.
And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you.
You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts.
Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head.
Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you.
That’s his son and you’re just…a girl.
To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again?
So fucking stupid.
And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds.
You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him.
It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead.
Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely.
You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back.
You can’t help it.
The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration.
You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up.
That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again.
That this isn’t exactly what you want.
“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago.
He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though?
It almost did.
“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues.
The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him.
It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.
You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release.
“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer.
You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp.
You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all?
At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all.
If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious.
Arguably, it’s always been obvious.
And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together.
You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together.
You’re not alone in this.
Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are.
Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end.
Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this.
But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son.
Where is that respect now?
Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny?
He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug.
God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting.
“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”
And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you.
It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could.
Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait.
When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips.
To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room.
A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be.
And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it.
You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.
Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling.
You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t.
You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now.
“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.”
No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much.
As if he truly did miss you.
And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now.
It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago.
Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go.
“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.
His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now.
The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son.
Like a fucking dream.
And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring.
“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”
And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle.
“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”
And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…
“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…”
He’s not tasting, he’s devouring.
And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again.
It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later.
His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief.
His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release.
But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again.
And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way.
If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough.
It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.
Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.
So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.
He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment.
And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him.
Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.
Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you.
“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.”
That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud.
And he fucking should feel proud.
“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.”
He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you.
“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?”
You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now.
“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.
“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”
Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down.
“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.”
And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit.
“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer.
Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch.
It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before.
He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips.
Slowly at first. Just feeling you again.
His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in.
“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”
The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair.
Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand.
“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”
And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment.
He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder.
Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts.
Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough.
He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later.
As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck.
His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling.
He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.
You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care.
People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.
Never have you felt so wanted.
Never have you been so needed.
And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints.
You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him.
Forever more, nothing less.
“God,” He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”
His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.
“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts.
His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.
“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you.
“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.”
You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now.
“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.”
He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.
“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him.
His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him.
“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–”
You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm.
“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot.
After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him.
With your hand wrapped with his son’s.
Never again.
He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.
“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him.
The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off.
He really tries.
But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you.
“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–”
You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm.
All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch.
There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him.
It’s too late to go back now.
“You’re so–”
Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this?
Like he’s the whole world.
~
The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep.
You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong.
Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway?
And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.
That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust.
“You’re fucking joking.”
Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you.
You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed.
He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too.
What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away.
“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.
“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”
Chan rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.
Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs.
“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”
“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.
The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you.
“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.
Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you.
“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”
You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you.
“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question.
“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!”
“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”
“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!”
Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt?
Fuck that.
He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.
“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–”
“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?”
You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.
“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?” He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?”
“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”
Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now.
“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”
And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.
Oh god. This sucks.
“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization.
All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more.
“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door.
Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first.
But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently?
You’re both guilty.
You’re both disgusting.
And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.
Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air.
“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there.
Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street.
Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again.
Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.
Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need.
Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you.
It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart.
Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life.
Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself.
You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day.
And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath.
“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.”
You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head.
“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself.
But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.
“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.”
You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you.
You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment.
“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.”
Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders.
“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle.
“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.”
Why do you feel blamed for this?
“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.”
“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.
“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”
And with that, you’re left with no choice.
You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly.
There’s nothing left here for you.
~
Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there.
Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked.
In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either.
So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy.
Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too.
It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father.
In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily.
And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed.
Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you.
He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now.
He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts.
“Chan has a new girlfriend,” Mingyu found out just last month about that.
“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago.
And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him.
So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation.
If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on.
Without his son.
But not without you.
~
After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.
Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.
That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you.
Mingyu: can we talk?
Mingyu: just talking. nothing else.
The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold.
Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise.
And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it.
Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.
He missed you.
He always fucking misses you.
And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway.
Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself.
Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears.
He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again.
There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet.
Some would say it’s love.
Mingyu would say it’s you.
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
x
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#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchesterfluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#spn#spn fic#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spn fluff
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Everyone Hates Todo Except You
The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive. You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking. He’s just so intense. I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.
~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!
At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business. But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it. Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him. At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.
“It’s not fair! Why do I have to do it?” Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.
“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it! We'll back you up.” Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.
Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment. She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo? Could you move all this stuff please? You’re starting to block the hallway.”
“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up. Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”
“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…” The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.
Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner. Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him. And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.
Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been. He knew this was the likeliest outcome. Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him. He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less. There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away. But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures. No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world. He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend. And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon. As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.
A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan. He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field. Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children. As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view. I’ll never get tired of seeing her.
“Todo, is everything okay? What’s up?” A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising. God, even your voice was perfect.
“I love you. Promise me, y/n. That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.” He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.
“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date? I like you too.” While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo. You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.
“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!” A single tear ran down Todo’s face.
Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.
“Ugh that gorilla? You guys are dating now?” Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.
“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.
“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction.
“We’re dating now! He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.
“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement. However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.
“What are you guys talking about?” he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.
“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.” Mai minces no words for Todo. With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.
“My love, I made lunch for us. I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates. But I will be devoted. I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.” he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins. His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.
“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me. I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t. I also think you’re quite handsome.”
“You love me back?” he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you. While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him.
“I do love you back.” He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest. It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.
#x reader#yandere#jujutsu kaisen#aoi todo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere x reader#todo x reader#yandere todo#aoi toudou#yandere jjk#jjk#aoi todo x reader#requested#hurt/comfort#jjk x reader#todo fluff#but also yandere bc that's just how he is in my mind
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waiting to spill
pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play
word count: 3.9k
(based on this request)
Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.
Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.
Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long?
One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.
He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.
Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.
"Babe?"
You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.
"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever.
It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.
"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.
"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane.
He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.
"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice.
It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency.
Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons.
"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."
He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.
"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver.
"Please."
You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.
"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.
He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever.
He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal.
"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."
The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.
An hour. He can handle one more hour.
He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault.
He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.
Maybe less.
There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.
"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here.
"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"
But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying.
Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.
He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.
"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.
"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go.
Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.
"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.
Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again.
If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.
Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.
He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.
You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.
You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.
He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.
Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far.
The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.
Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.
"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."
You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.
"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.
"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."
You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.
"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."
But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.
He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.
"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.
His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.
"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.
"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.
"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."
"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."
He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it.
Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.
He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust.
He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.
His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later.
"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.
He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.
Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.
"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."
Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.
It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.
His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him.
The girl he waited for.
He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out.
He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.
He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for.
Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.
His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.
When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.
Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.
"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."
He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option.
And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.
You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.
"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."
Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you?
"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."
It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.
"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.
"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.
"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.
"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.
"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.
"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan.
His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.
"There's no way."
"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?
Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.
"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"
"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.
He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.
"Yeah, I really do."
thanks for reading!
(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)
#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#fnaf imagine#fnaf smut#fnaf movie#fnaf#five nights at freddy's
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I loved Summon AU, is it possible that you make more Summon AU?
The aftermath of the summoning leaves the Wayne Manor in a strange sense of foreboding. No one really knows what the Ghost King has done with their list or what it means for them that he has accepted.
Everyone tried to go about their daily lives, attempting to act like they weren't looking over their shoulders. Bruce had nearly broken a blood vessel when he heard about them doing a stupid online trend when they knew magic and gods were real.
They couldn't think of a better excuse for why they did besides "it seemed funny at the time."
Bruce had been so unimpressed with them all that he broke out the big guns.
That night, Alfred grounded them. He really sat everyone- minutes Cass because she had escaped through the window after Danny called- and told them they would not be allowed to use any form of technology unless it was related to their nighttime job.
They would also be given a chore list to complete every day until their punishment was over.
Even though neither Dick or Jason lived at home anymore, they too were grounded and didn't bother to even try to argue with the aging butler. Cass was informed of her own punishment through a text, and she returned about thirty minutes later, ready to face her punishment.
She reorganized everything in storage- and in Wayne Manor, there was a lot in storage- without a single complaint, but she did seem somewhat nervous. And excited?
Like a child waiting to open a present.
That was out of character for Cass, but no one was brave enough to ask her about it. Life before the manor was a taboo topic when it came to Cass.
A week later, her restless behavior finally came to light.
When the doorbell rang, Alfred was just looking over the wood polishing job Tim and Damian had been assigned. Confused- as there were no expected guests and the kids were all still grounded- he approached the door cautiously. Tim was on standby in case things went south.
A young adult, likely barely eighteen, with pretty blue eyes, a vast, charming smile, and a gorgeous winter-themed dress, was on the other side of the door. Their hair is short but styled to have one side longer than the other, framing their face perfectly.
A spinnable circle pin on her dress read Gender Fluid in the unmovable part and "She/Her day" in the spinal part.
"Hi there," She chirps, a dimple on full display. "I'm Danny."
"Good afternoon, Danny. My name is Alfred. How can I help you?"
"I was wondering if Cass was home?" Dany starts surprising Alfred and Tim -who were eavesdropping around the corner- as the girl carefully plays with her hair. "I was hoping to talk to her."
"Miss Casandra is currently not allowed guests." The butler starts slowly. He watches her face fall dramatically before humming. "I can, however, pass along a message to her."
"Oh yeah, that be great. Please let her know Danny was wondering if she would like to go with me to see a ballet tonight. Um if she's allowed to go out."
Tim's eyes widen. A date? Danny had come here in person to ask Cass if she wanted to go on a date? Then had the courage to ask Alfred, to his face, if she could take his grandaughter out?
Who is she? Tim thinks amazed. He wants to text the rest of the group chat, which would invade Cass' privacy. He waits a few minutes until Alfred responds.
"Miss Casandra is currently grounded. Unfortunately, she and her siblings cannot leave until their punishment ends."
Tim winces. Hopefully, Cass being nineteen and still being grounded at her age didn't scare off Danny. Some people didn't understand how much power Alfred's word had over the manor and frankly, those people didn't deserve Cass anyway.
But it would make her sad.
"Oh, that's okay. Thank you for letting me-"
A scream makes everyone jump. Tim whirls around to find Damian pressed against the main stairway. His face has gone three sheets of white, staring at Danny with horror.
"Y-you!"
Danny tilts her head. "Me?"
"Y-you!" Damian gasps and Tim is highly alarmed that his voice is tinted with fear. "Why are you here?!"
"I came to ask Cass if-"
"You will not take Cain from me, Ghost King! I will destroy your core before you try to get near her!" Damian screams, hand suddenly holding a glowing green sword, but his threat doesn't hold much because he is literally shaking in his boots. "You have your summon payment already! You shall leave Cain alone!"
What.
"Oh! You think no, no. I'm not here for her soul or anything. Cass and I go way back when she lived on the streets. " Danny- the ghost king they summoned using a list of their gay awaking apparently- laughs, waving her hands as if to calm the young child. "I liked her for a while but thought she didn't feel the same. Until the summoning, where I saw my name on the list. We talked it out, and I was hoping to take her on a first date, you know?"
"You lie!" Damian races down to point his sword at Danny, looking just as wild as a cornered animal about to fight for its life. "Why would the strongest being in the multiverse live on the streets?!"
"Well....it's not like they pay to rule the dead....I had a rough patch, but Cass helped me get back on my feet." Danny muttered, slightly embarrassed. Then she squits at Damian. "Wait, are you a al Ghul?"
Damian breaks into a sweat as Danny gasps, "You are! You're family owes me so much money in backed up taxes for the healing pool! We cut off contamination maintenance because Ra's refused to pay years ago! Kid, do you know I can get into contact with your family member about the Lazarus pit?"
Damian screamed again, turned around, and ran, leaving a stunned Alfred, Tim and Danny. "Guess not. Anyway, sorry to be a bother Mr. Alfred, I'll come back when Cass can go out. Bye!"
A familiar portal rips under Danny as she falls through with a cheerful wave. Alfred and Tim watch it close in a moment before Tim turns to the butler. "Did I inhale too many polishing chemicals? Am I hallucinating?"
"No, my dear boy, I saw everything as well."
"Oh, good. " Tim pauses. " One of us needs to speak to Damian and Cass."
Alfred closes the door slowly. "I'll find Master Damian. You go for Miss Cassandra and Master Tim?"
"Hmm?"
"The next time, Mister Conner sends you a fun trend to try. Don't."
"Yeah, that's fair."
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Ghost King summon Dare Au#Cass and Danny know eachother on the streets#The al Ghul be running from the ghost IRS#Danny is gender fluid#Cass bought them the pin#Alfred is so done with his kids#They stress him out
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the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)
Oof fuck yeah 😎
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)
He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.
And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe
You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs
He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm
“You have any idea what you’ve done?”
“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance
“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”
“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,
“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”
(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)
After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door
Consequences, love
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
The least restraint out of all of them tbh
He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team
As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers
You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest
“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys
“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building
“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”
He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you
By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished
John Price:
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-
John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you
So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.
Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.
He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited
You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’
If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.
And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.
He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom
The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable
You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand
‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’
He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.
And serve you he did.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#soap mctavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john mactavish x reader#john mctavish x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#cod x reader#mw2 x reader#cod mw2#ghost mw2#cod mwii#ghost cod#cod headcanons
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FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS
oscar piastri x reader
when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.
credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333
authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!
SOMETIMES IT’S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend they’re fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend they’re racing against traffic, pretend they don’t really like each other more than friends.
they pretend they’re dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. it’s totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.
it was as simple as that.
at least it was before it all happened because now they didn’t know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?
it was a clear day in oscar’s hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadn’t grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.
well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now it’s with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.
but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.
everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.
the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each other’s skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.
but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.
a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.
of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, “you should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.”
she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.
“i don't think i even have a hair tie,” she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.
“oh, wait, i do,” he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.
she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering “oh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,” she rambled under her breath, “not going to question why you even have it.”
a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.
the words ‘i love you’ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.
maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.
oh, but it did.
at this point, the words ‘i like you’ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.
he simply muttered back in admiration, “you're welcome.” a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.
maybe his mum was right.
he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.
he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.
it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.
the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.
she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.
“guy’s handing out free flowers,” oscar started before pausing and looking at her, “for couples.” he scratched his neck again.
she exhaled sharply, “we could totally pull off being a couple,” she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.
“you think?” he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, “free flowers are free flowers.”
“exactly,” she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, “what do you say?”
he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.
“alright,” he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, “but if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.”
she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, “yeah, yeah.”
but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, “promise me, you'd say something.”
she paused, and sighed, “i promise, okay, let's go,” she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.
when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.
the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.
when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.
maybe it was the way they looked so naïve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.
“kiss then,” the guy shrugged, causing the ‘couple’ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, “if you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.”
it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held hands—until now—let alone kiss.
though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.
she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.
the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissed—as friends—for.
by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.
he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, “here.”
her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, “are you sure?”
he furrowed his brows, “yeah, why wouldn't i be?”
she nodded, “right, yeah.” she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.
she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.
maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.
they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.
the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.
when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.
“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.
“i mean—there's nothing to talk about really,” she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, “we were just—pretending, right?”
she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, “right, so just friends.”
“right,” she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.
she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.
“but—i guess i didn't mind it,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, “the fake dating, I mean.”
“really?” he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.
“i mean, it was fun while it lasted,” she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, “i enjoyed it.”
“the fake dating?”
“the kiss.”
he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.
truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.
it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.
“i enjoyed it too.” he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.
but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, “really?” her voice was high and so unsure.
he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.
“hey,” he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, “i guess—it doesn't have to be pretend.” he shrugged.
“are you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?” she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.
he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.
—
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri angst#oscar piastri au#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81 x you#op81 angst#f1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris imagine#oscar piastri imagine
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n : the colder seasons make me disgustingly soft so here we are :)
click for palestine / please read (important!!) / how you can help palestine
your girlfriend abby knew you inside and out, down to the tiniest detail. she knew your coffee order like the back of her hand, your favorite foods, the ones you weren't too keen on, and even the ones that left you feeling just 'meh.' she knew which clothes made you feel like yourself and which ones made you squirm.
she was well-versed in your allergies, how to ease your period woes, and how to nurse you back to health when illness had you bedridden. in short, she knew you like the lyrics to her favorite song, especially when it came to comforting you when you were upset.
on one particular quiet thursday evening, you found yourself in a bit of a funk. it wasn't entirely your fault; deadlines were looming, assignments were piling up, and your group for a certain project seemed about as motivated as a sloth on a sunday afternoon.
add to that the part-time babysitting gig you'd taken on a whim (thanks to a bout of baby fever), which now felt like more trouble than it was worth. life felt like a swirling storm of stress, and abby's failure to recognize your frazzled state earlier that morning, dismissing it as 'overdramatic,' only added to your emotional exhaustion. so, when you returned home to find her somewhat dismissive, even her peace offering of your favorite meal and the suggestion of snuggling up to watch old seasons of love island fell short. it was time for some serious groveling.
"cold?" abby inquired, noticing your arms wrapped around yourself, the blanket now stubbornly tucked on her side of the couch.
“i'm okay," you mumbled in response.
"you're freezing, come here," abby insisted, slipping her arm around you in an attempt to draw you closer. "i said i'm fine," you huffed, scooting away, but abby knew better.
"aabe," abby called, receiving no response.
"baby."
"babeee, my love, my future wife, the mother of our future kids," she tried, and finally, a tiny crack in your stoic facade.
"i love you so much, you know that?" abby began peppering you with kisses, determined to break through your grumpy front.
"stop." you protested weakly, trying to maintain your grumpy exterior, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you.
"prettiest girl in the world, my girl," abby persisted, planting one final kiss on the tip of your nose, melting away any remaining sulkiness and revealing the smile she adored.
"oh, was that a smile?" abby teased, grinning ear to ear.
"i did not smile," you mumbled, attempting to reclaim your grumpiness.
"pretty sure i saw one."
"well, i didn't."
"you sure?" abby teased, before she launched herself at you, tickling you mercilessly, and soon the room was filled with your laughter, a sound that melted abby's heart.
"oh my god, stop!" you pleaded between giggles, swatting at her hands.
"magic word, babe," abby hummed, continuing her assault until you were both collapsed on the couch, giggling uncontrollably.
"please, please stop!" you begged, breathless.
"better," abby replied, finally relenting and placing a few loving kisses on your lips until you calmed down, the both of you grinning like kids.
"am i forgiven?" abby asked, pulling away slightly.
"maybe," you pretended to consider with a shrug, though the smile on your face gives you away.
"mhm," was all abby hummed before lifting you up with a slight yelp from you, her hands under your butt, giving them a pat as your legs wrap around her waist and your arms find their place around her neck. a gentle, affectionate kiss to seal the moment.
"let me make it up to you then?"
#ermmmm#📩#abby tlou#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson fluff#abby fluff#abby the last of us
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Darlin' pt 7
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt8
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)
Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.
Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.
TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).
His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.
"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.
"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside.
The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.
After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.
"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.
"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.
"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side.
"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.
The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly.
"Let me help you with that." He stated.
I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.
"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."
"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect.
Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front.
"What is that?" I asked curiously.
"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."
I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding.
"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.
"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.
The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned.
"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.
"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."
"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking.
I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"
He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.
“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.
He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”
“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”
His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.
“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.
I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.
“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.
I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.
“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.
Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.
He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.
“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.
The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.
“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.
“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.
“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.
This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.
“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.
I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.
“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”
This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.
“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.
I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.
“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.
“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”
He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”
He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.
I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”
“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.
He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.
“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”
I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.
“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.
The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.
I snorted, “That could have waited.”
He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.
As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”
I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.
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#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#fallout tv series#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout#the ghoul smut#cooper howard smut
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simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages
masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??
there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.
i. words of affirmation
initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.
and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.
most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.
ii. gifts
he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.
and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)
all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”
iii. acts of service
simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).
from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”
and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.
iv. quality time
such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.
he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.
v. physical touch
simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.
but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.
from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”
#ghost cod#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty imagine#call of duty imagines#call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost#cod mw ghost#simon ghost x you#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#task force 141 x y/n#task force 141 x reader#task force 141
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Humans aren’t poisonous
It was another canteen argument at the spaceport. This time it was about the new species, the humans.
“I hear they are poisonous. That is why they do not come near and why they cover their skin, so they do not harm others.”
“I heard the clothes are about clan allegiances and you know who they follow from their colours.”
“I thought it was which Gods they follow.”
“No, it is poison.”
The argument had various creatures involved, they were from a crew whose Captain prided themselves on picking as many species as possible to work for them, and who was already attempting to entice a human onboard.
There were so many conflicting stories about the humans. They looked harmless, unarmoured, no claws to speak of, they were not even especially big although further rumour was that they were incredibly strong for their size. But, when the Dran attacked them no one could have predicted how easily the humans sent the dangerous imperialists fleeing back to their home world. How did they do it? No one quite knew.
“They are poisonous. How else did they kill everyone on the Helin outpost without any weapons? With only on scout ship.”
There was a snort from the hooded figure at the bar. “Humans aren't poisonous, trust me, I should know.”
“I learned that from the team who investigated the outpost. I know.”
The hood was lowered to reveal a human with short brown hair and a frighteningly toothy smile. “My knowledge is a little more first hand than yours. We aren't poisonous.” He reached in and patted the speaker's lower mandible, laughing as it recoiled from his touch. “You'll be fine.”
“If you are not poisonous, how did you do it? They were clearly poisoned by something horrific, a biological agent that the investigators swore was somehow alive.”
The human licked his lips. “I said we aren't poisonous, I wasn't lying.”
“So you're defenceless.” The insectoid being stood. It was angry at being touched by a soft fleshy creature, it felt dirty.
“Nope. I'm human, I'm never defenceless.”
“It would be so easy to defeat you in combat.” It loomed over the human. “Why is it you do not cower? How do you kill your enemies?”
“You wanna become my enemy and find out?”
“Johnson!” The sharp snap from the across the room made everyone freeze.
The human sighed, his eyes dropping. “Sir.”
“Back off, right now.” This barked order came from a Subeco warrior in the uniform of a merchant vessel.
Johnson grumbled. “Seriously?”
“I don't want another incident, stop baiting people.”
“He called me defenceless.”
“And that is not a capital offence. I have found a trader who has a pallet of what he claims is a human drink called Rum, I need you to help me check it.”
“Rum? It better be dark rum, I don't want any of that Bacardi shit.” Johnson forgot the insectoid to the lure of alcohol, striding to the door.
“Subeco.” the insectoid was not so quickly put off. It respected the Subeco, they were fine warriors, proven in eons of battle across the galaxy. “What do you know of humans? How are they so dangerous?”
The Subeco's head wobbled from side to side as they considered their answer. “They are extremely vindictive with tools and masters of improvised weapons, but mostly they kill their enemies slowly.”
“So they are poisonous.”
“No not poisonous, but they are venomous.”
The entire room's attention was fixed on the Subeco in a moment.
There was a sneer from the warrior who knew one of their best guards was a human with a short temper. It was useful to make sure people were scared of him. “Their fluids are all toxic to some extent, but their saliva is laced with micro-organisms, viruses and bacteria. Death by human is slow and excruciating.”
“I'll be sure to never let one bite me.” the insectoid was not impressed.
“Bite?” the Sebeco laughed, copying the noise used by humans that was so off putting. “If Johnson wanted you dead he would have stayed at the bar and spat into one of your eyes. My survival tip for dealing with humans is be more useful alive than dead or stay out of range.”
“What is their range?”
The Subeco looked at Johnson before turning back to the insectoid. “If you have to ask that question, you're too close. Enjoy your drinks, gentle-beings.”
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Always So Pretty For Me
Pairings: Choi San x f!reader
Warnings: m & f masturbation, phone sex, praise kink, voice kink
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: so I have NOT been able to stop thinking about san being like this and I desperately just want to be his pretty girl and be talked through it by him, I literally wrote this in less than an hour so be nice to me :(, I need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore. Also not proof read so ignore the mistakes :p
With San being on tour, In different cities, Different time zones. You always felt yourself get lonely, not only emotionally, but physically as well. And right now you needed him more than you felt like you ever had in your life. When he would be on breaks from tour or schedules, he always made it a point to satisfy you in all the ways he knew how. Truly he knew your body better than you did. He knew how to make you feel good in the best ways, knew how to touch you so you were ruined for anyone else who tried to, yourself being included.
Here you were sat up in your bed with a sticky feeling between your thighs, one that you knew only San could satisfy. The only problem was, he was thousands of miles away on the other side of the world at this point. It was late at night, around 3am when you decided to go through all your old videos with him. Some of him being sweet and funny, others of him nestled so nicely between your thighs and eating you out like it was his last meal.
One of your favorite attributes about San was he would always talk you through it, knowing you got off on him talking so sweetly to you and praising you like you were the other thing that mattered to him most in the world. “You’re always such a good girl for me Angel, always make the prettiest sounds for me. God I could listen to you moan my name on repeat all fucking day baby, you make me so fucking crazy.” You heard the San in the video say, not doing anything to help the problem between your legs. You gently started touching your hardened nipples through your shirt similar to how he would, but it never felt like he did it. Truly Choi San had ruined you for anyone else.
You touched all over your body softly, eventually leading you to the place where you needed to be touched the most. Still listening to the filthy things that was coming out of Sans mouth on the video, which only spurred you on more. “You gonna cum all over my face angel? Huh? Can you do that for me baby? I know you can because you’re my good girl right? Yeah that’s it baby… that’s it… that’s my pretty girl.” He had said as you came all over his face and fingers in the video. At that point you had decided you couldn’t take it anymore and you needed to call him, just to hear him talk in that deep sultry voice of his.
It doesn’t take San long to pick up, it was the middle of the day for him and thankfully had an off day and was just resting in the hotel, what you didn’t know is he was doing the exact same thing you were. Laid up in bed watching old videos of you too that resulted in a hard Bulge in his pants and nothing but his hand to satisfy it, but he wouldn’t tell you that. “Hey angel, it’s late there no? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He said as he gently palmed the bulge in his pants trying to get it to go down.
“I need you Sannie…” you whimpered out and this made san shoot up in his bed and make his cock even harder than it already was. “You need me baby? What do you need princess?” San had said which only caused you to throw your head back with a soft moan, still touching yourself and feeling unsatisfied because it just wasn’t him doing it. “Need you to touch me… it never feels as good when I do it, I want you to come home..” You moaned out and began to rub yourself faster through your panties. This made San bite his lip and palm his dick a little harder. God if he could he would hop on a flight home and take care of you like you needed to be.
“I want to come home too princess, I’ll be home soon you know that. And I’ll take care of you so well when I do baby, are you touching yourself right now angel?” San said as he slipped his hands in his sweatpants and touched himself through his boxers, letting out a light grunt as the layers got thinner and thinner. “Yes… I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stop thinking about you baby, it doesn’t feel as good when I do it…” you moan out as you moved your panties to the side to finally relieve yourself the way you needed.
“You miss me Angel? I miss you too, was laying here watching old videos of us and came across one of you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. God I wish you were here baby. I wouldn’t be able to take my hands off you.” San said as he finally slipped his hands in his boxers and slowly started pumping his cock up and down. “Rub yourself for me baby, you’re always such a good girl for me. You can do that for me right?” San said as his hand picked up the pace a bit and bit down deeply on his lip, surely he would draw blood to it soon but he didn’t care.
“Ugh fuck San.. it feels so good.” You said as you ran soft circles around your clit, pretty much just getting off on his voice alone. “Slip your pretty fingers inside for me baby, let me hear how much you miss me. God I can’t fucking wait to ruin you when I get home I swear this tour is torturing me with blue balls.” San said as he gripped his cock tighter and went faster. “Wish they were your fingers Sannie… you always fill me up so well.” You said as you pumped your fingers inside yourself trying to match the pace of him pumping his own cock that you heard in the background. You definitely weren’t gonna last long at all, you were already so close.
“Mmm I know Angel, don’t worry it’ll be my fingers soon, but for now I just need you to go faster.. fuck princess I’m not gonna last, always sound so pretty for me when you moan like that.” San said as he felt his high approaching, but he wouldn’t let himself cum until you did first. “Fuck San I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out as you fucked yourself with your fingers faster, not wanting to cum until he told you to.
“Cum for me princess” just as he said that the knot in your stomach had snapped and you threw your head back with a high pitched moan. Not noticing how you just soaked the fuck out of your sheets. “Fuck that’s it baby… that’s my good girl, always listen to me so well.” San said with a grunt and a shudder as he came all over his stomach. God he wished that it was inside you instead. He always loved watching it drip out of you.
“Show me the mess you made princess, I wanna see what I’m coming home to.” San said as he reached over and grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand clean of the evidence of him cumming from phone sex like a horny teenager. Even though you were on the verge of falling asleep you did as he said and you could hear him moan through the phone, almost convinced he was wanting to go round two. “Fuck baby… you’re such a good girl. Can’t wait to come home and take care of you the way you deserve.” San said as he himself snapped a quick pic of the cum sitting on his stomach, shooting a text a long with it that read “wish it was inside you instead.”
This made you bite your lip and throw your head back, damning your tiredness because if you weren’t on the brink of passing out you would absolutely go round 2 with him. “Miss you so much Sannie…” you said as you felt your eyes grow heavy. San knew you were gonna fall asleep any minute now. “I miss you too angel, get some rest and call me when you wake up. I promise I’ll be home soon before you know it pretty girl, I love you more than anything.” You had let out a soft “I love you too…” before your tiredness got the best of you, and just like that all San could hear was your soft snores through the phone, knowing that it was only him that could bring you that much safety and comfort.
God he really needed to get the fuck home.
#ateez smut#san smut#san x reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#yunho smut#yeosang smut#mingi smut#jongho smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#wooyoung smut
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I worry about you (Clingy!Yandere x Delinquent!Reader)
CW: body trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior
"I don't understand, why are you saying these things?!" Everett shouted, tugging on (Reader's) jacket like a man fearful of drowning. The two stood at the top of a set of wooden outdoor stairs built into a steep hill in the city's little hiking trail/park, a meeting spot where they often hung out after school.
His brown eyes glowed under the sun like molten gold, churning with heartache as he held onto his only friend.
(Reader) kept their face rigid like stone, fighting the desire to retract what they had said, their decision was final. It was for Everett's own good. "Dude, stop acting crazy. You're acting like we were dating. I'm just saying that I need space. Go make other friends, go on dates, I don't care. Jesus, just stop hanging onto me all the time."
Lies, all lies. I don't mind how clingy you are. I love that you stay by my side. I know I have a shit personality, I know I'm trash, so I really appreciate that you're the only one to stay my friend. You've been my friend since we were ten years old, so please, PLEASE, fucking take the hint. I've seen that the teachers have started to treat you differently just because you're my friend. And how many times do I have to rescue you from wannabe thugs who only fuck with you because they hate me? You deserve better than that.
You deserve better than me.
(Reader) roughly shook their only friend off their arm. It was painful now, for both of them, but (Reader) knew it was for the best.
"But why? What did I do wrong?" Everett sniffled, rubbing his eyes as the waterworks persisted. (Reader) turned to leave, unable to watch Everett any longer without their resolve crumbling. "WAIT!" Everett panicked, reaching out to latch onto (Reader's) arm again. (Reader) felt his fingers brush against their arm, and threw back their elbow to push Everett away.
They didn't know, however, that Everett had stepped forward. (Reader) misjudged how hard to push, not knowing that Everett was closer than he was just a second ago. Their wrist smashed into Everett's chest, causing him to stumble backwards, and tumble down the stairs.
Eyes widening in fear, (Reader) immediately began sprinting down the steps, skipping two at a time on the way down as their friend bounced against the weathered wood, hitting the dirt at the bottom hard. Their heart was beating so fast it felt like they would have a heart attack as they jumped the last couple stairs, crouching over their best friend crying in the fetal position.
"Everett, oh my God, are you okay?!" They gingerly scooped his upper half into their lap, examining his head for injuries.
"My- my arm..." Everett cradled his arm, crushing (Reader) further with guilt.
Placing his head down carefully, (Reader) took off running, calling out for help in hopes that someone nearby had a phone to call an ambulance. They disappeared out of Everett's sight, hearing them hollering as they ran away.
As soon as (Reader) vanished from view, Everett stopped crying, sitting up miserably. How did this happen?
Everything had been going so perfectly. Everett had set himself up as a weak, innocent best friend for (Reader), tailoring his personality for the past eight years to ensure that (Reader) would never leave him. When his family uprooted his life at the age of ten, he already knew there was no chance of happiness in his future. It was hard enough convincing anyone at his old school to like a freak like him, but being a new kid on top of having a personality that for some reason pushed everyone away? Everett knew it was hopeless.
But it seemed fate had other plans for him. The very first day in the new home Everett attempted to climb the large tree in his fenceless backyard and slipped, falling out of one of the lower branches. It hadn't hurt all that much, really just stinging a bit, but he didn't have time to even sit up before his new neighbor was rushing over to help him, having witnessed the fall from their back window. (Reader) was an angel, the summer sunlight illuminating their form like a halo. They didn't waste a second, pulling Everett's body onto their back, struggling under his weight but forcing their tiny muscles to carry Everett to his parents. It didn't even hurt, and Everett was more than capable of walking on his own, but having someone his own age care about him for the first time in his entire ten years of life.. he played into it, relishing in the attention he was receiving, forcing large crocodile tears out in hopes (Reader) would stay by his side longer. And it worked.
It worked for eight years, so why were they pushing him away now?
He constantly allowed himself to trip in front of (Reader), embarrassing himself over and over to keep them paying attention to him. Even now, throwing himself backwards down a flight of stairs while making it look like an accident, just to prevent (Reader) from leaving him.
Unfortunately, nothing was actually broken on him. He glanced around, finding a rock almost too large to grasp in one hand. Unlike when they were children, Everett didn't believe crying would be enough to keep (Reader) by his side. He rolled up the sleeve on the arm he pretended was broken, biting down onto the front of his hoodie. It didn't matter if (Reader) was only with him out of guilt, it only mattered that they were with him.
Everett smiled through gritted teeth, thinking about (Reader) sitting next to him in the hospital, refusing to leave his side for even a second, then brought the heavy rock down onto his arm with an audible crack.
Please continue worrying about me.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere best friend#clingy yandere#yandere fanfiction#writing#not proofread#tw manipulation
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Text
just saying → Vinnie Hacker x female!reader
summary: in which Vinnie doesn’t like your boyfriend
a/n: hello, it’s been a while lol, 2023 was literally the worst year of my life but 2024 will be my year.
warnings: swearing, fighting and blood
word count: 2.4k
masterlist
Vinnie never liked him, from the moment you told him about the new guy you met, to the moment he met him face to face. He never hid it either. A grimace of disgust tainting his face when your boyfriend was around. It got to the point where everyone took notice of it and sided with Vinnie; your boyfriend sucked.
He was never on time, even on date nights and always left the bill for you to pay. When Vinnie found out, he was sure he hated the guy's guts. Every complaint to you about your boyfriend ended with a not so nonchalant shrug and “just saying,”.
It got to you, it really did, especially when the tattooed blonde distanced himself, much to your boyfriend’s enjoyment. He knew he wasn’t well liked, and it gave him an air of confidence, Vinnie would go as far as to call him borderline fucking sadistic.
He remembers the day vividly when your boyfriend waltzed into the room with you in tow and that stupid smirk on his face. Vinnie immediately disliked him, purely because of that fucking smirk that spoke a thousand words, ‘I’m better than you’, blah blah blah, Vinnie knew his façade was a pile of stinking bullshit.
“Who are you?” Vinnie snorted as he leaned back on the couch, legs spread. Although the question was directed towards your boyfriend, his eyes were glued to yours, his gaze heated.
“Uhm, guys, this is my-“ he interrupted you. Vinnie didn’t like that at all. He forced himself to take a deep breath, fidgeting in his seat to get comfortable. It didn’t work. “I’m her boyfriend,” he gloated with a nasty grin, and Vinnie was caught off guard by your soft smile directed towards your shitty boyfriend. It was a punch to the gut, seeing you with heart eyes not looking at him.
“Boyfriend?” Noah gaped at you, his eyes sneaking looks at Vinnie to gauge his reaction. He looked upset, and Noah knew why, but Vinnie himself wouldn’t admit it. He was stubborn that way, enough to break his own stubborn heart.
You smiled sheepishly, shy from the feeling of vulnerability that took over you as every pair of eyes in the room stared you and your boyfriend down. You hadn’t anticipated their negative reactions, it made you confused and disappointed, and a small tinge of embarrassment grew in your gut. Shame set your body alight, why would you be embarrassed to introduce your boyfriend?
“How long have you guys been dating?” Vinnie asked, a fake smile on his lips, it made you cringe. You knew Vinnie, both in and out, and you knew when he was genuine. He wasn’t now.
You turned to your boyfriend, tongue tied, “uhm, well we went official three days ago-“ he interrupted again. You really wanted to disappear.
“Babe,” he chuckled in a tone that Vinnie knew was condescending. “They asked when we began to date, not when we became official.” duh, you thought to yourself and quickly nodded with a small and strained smile.
You felt embarrassed, if he had let you finish your sentence then he would come to find out that you would’ve answered Vinnie’s question.
“Uhm-“ you stammered, he interrupted once again, sighing, “two months babe, two months.” Your stomach was hurting now and your face was burning as did your palms, so much so that your boyfriend let it go to wipe his palm on his jeans. ‘Oh god’ you felt mortified, hoping no one noticed the gesture despite standing on display in front of your friends.
Vinnie spoke, his eyes dark, “Maybe, you should, oh- I don’t know; let her finish speaking?” Vinnie glared at him, his posture less relaxed but he was still in the same position as earlier, though his hands twitched.
“Excuse me?” He took a threatening step forward, but you intercepted him quickly with a forced laugh, “okay,” you dragged out, “how about we stop this, and leave.” So you did.
Vinnie texted you an hour later, an apology, ending with him admitting to not wanting to lose you over a petty dick measuring fight. You reassured him that you weren't the type of person to throw away friendships for one guy.
He read the text with stinging eyes and a chewed up lip. He genuinely thought his chest was about to cave in, he saw his future, a future of which he painted with you by his side, hands intertwined with loving whispers in your shared bed, hidden from the world under the covers. It all fell apart. But he knew better than to admit his feelings to you. You were everything good in this world and he knew he wasn’t enough.
—————
Vinnie wasn’t a stranger to sarcasm, neither were you. Your new boyfriend on the other hand seemed to be.
It was supposed be a relaxed get together, celebrating summer with barbecue and drinks,
It was painful to listen to Vinnie disrespect your boyfriend whilst the boy in question unknowingly agreed to it all.
“You’re one of the nice guys, huh?” Vinnie smirked, his eyes mischievous as he stared at your boyfriend. His blood pumping the liquid courage through his body. Oblivious, he answered with a chuckle. “Yeah, totally dude, I hear it all the time.”
You went to interrupt before Vinnie took it too far, but your boyfriend quickly dismissed you with a hand on your thigh and a slurred whisper of “shh let ‘im speak, babe”
Vinnie rolled his eyes at the site, jealousy growing with each sip of alcohol. “Must be your pride and joy,” Vinnie murmured and your boyfriend huffed, “of course I pride myself in being a humble guy.”
“Vincent,” you snapped and Vinnie’s eyes went wide. “That’s enough.” You stared Vinnie down and he kept his eyes locked on yours despite your glaring, though your glaring eyes quickly turned soft the longer you stared at each other.
Your boyfriend spoke up, snapping your attention to him, though Vinnie didn’t care to remove his eyes from you. His eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugged down the corner of his lips, it looked ridiculous. “Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?” His words sounded forced as he spoke through clenched teeth.
You flinched from his words, your brows furrowed as you stared at him with a gaping mouth. “What?” Your voice shook and your face felt hot.
He rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You heard me,” he spat as he glared at you and Vinnie, though your gaze didn’t dare to meet Vinnie’s blank ones.
“I-“ you began before Vinnie interrupted you, his voice expressionless and his face equally so when you finally looked at him.
“Fuck you.” Oh god, you quickly stood up and glanced around for help to stop the fight that would inevitably follow. “Noah?” You yelled out and the boy quickly appeared with a lazy smile on his face before it quickly dropped when he saw your panicked expression.
He quickly walked up to you. “Woah, what’s wrong?” You were just about to gesture towards Vinnie and your boyfriend, but quickly stopped when your boyfriend clumsily stood up and threw the glass bottle toward Vinnie. Glass shattered on the concrete before Vinnie’s feet, beer staining his trousers and skin.
A gasp left your lips before you quickly ran forward to intercept your boyfriend who obviously wasn’t done. Vinnie had also gotten to his feet now, his eyes dark and fist clenched, his body tense as he stared your boyfriend down.
“Lil’ bitch,” your boyfriend slurred, your hand grasping his arm to hold him back. You tried to ignore him instead focusing on Vinnie who was now being held back by Noah. You took notice of the circle of which has formed around you, people curious to see what the escalation would be like.
Fingers pinched your arm tightly, almost breaking through skin. You tore your arm away from your boyfriend to see his glare directed to you now. Your arm burned from where he pinched you.
“What the fuck?” You exclaimed angrily as you gave him a light push. He wobbled a few steps back before he spat on your shoes, a disgusted expression on his face. “You’re his lil’ bitch, aren’t you?” He wiped the stray saliva from his chin with a crazed smile. “You’re his whore aren’t you?” You felt your nose burn as tears blurred your vision.
One second you were staring at your boyfriend, the next his body laid upon the ground, Vinnie straddling him, his fists flying. You could vaguely hear voices screaming, before Vinnie was quickly taken away from the bloodied man you once called your boyfriend.
Through your blurred vision you saw Vinnie being taken into the house by Noah and a couple of other guys, their faces pale.
“Hey,” a soft voice spoke. A blonde haired girl stood before you with a soft, shaky smile. “Let’s get you inside.” She didn’t wait for you to answer before she gently took your hand and walked you inside. You were grateful but your mouth felt wired shut. You wanted to know what happened to Vinnie and where he was taken to.
“Where is he?” She guided you to the plush couch and kneeled down before you, her hand still holding yours.
“Who? Vinnie?” She asked, her eyes quickly darting to the backyard where a commotion was still going on. You could only nod, a tear tickling your skin as it slid down your cheek and neck.
“They took him to the front lawn, someone called the cops.” Your heart stopped. “They’re hoping to explain the situation or something.” She gave you a reassuring smile. “He only protected you, stupidly of course,” she chuckled and you let a teary one out too.
“What’s your name?” Your voice cracked. She gave you a cheeky grin before answering you. “Phoebe, and you?” You told her your name and took a deep breath, “how bad is it?”
She sighed and chewed her button lip, “it looked worse than it is.” And it looked horrifying. You turned around to get a glimpse of your now unofficial ex boyfriend, and he was being held up by two guys, his nose bent and blood covering his lower face with splatters everywhere. Vinnie had done some proper damage in that short moment.
“Oh, don’t look,” she tugged at your hand and made you focus on her. She quickly got up and nodded to someone, whom you didn’t know.”
“She okay?” It was Noah, his hair disheveled and he looked flustered, his eyes quickly glancing outside before focusing on you again.
“Welp, she’s definitely shaken up and could definitely use a friend and some reassurance.” She gave you a small smile before walking back outside again. You wanted to thank her but you found yourself tongue tied.
Noah took a seat beside you, his body slumped against the cushions, and dragged a hand over his face before sitting straight. He looked exhausted.
“Are you okay?” You whispered shakily, your lips trembling. He snorted, “I’m fine, just tired from dealing with cops.” Oh god, your mind drew a scenario of Vinnie in the back of a patrol car.
“Is Vinnie arrested?” Your voice trembled, ‘god this shouldn’t be happening’ you thought to yourself.
Noah laughed this time, the sound loud in the quiet and tense living room. “Psst, no. They understood and they’re actually taking your man in instead for being drunk and disorderly.” Your mouth fell open before you quickly turned around in your seat again to find him again, but he was already gone. The guests back to mingling as though nothing had happened.
“Where’s Vinnie?” You asked Noah, mouth still gaping.
“Here,” another voice answered. Vinnie. He stood by the doorway with wrapped hands and a change of clothing. A sheepish smile on his blushing face. You quickly got up and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head resting on his hard chest. His arms quickly engulfed you tightly. “Thank you for standing up for me.” You sniffled .
“Meh, I always hated the guy.” You lifted your head to stare at him and a smile grew on his lips. “Just saying.”
——————
It took two months before you agreed to go out with Vinnie. He had planned the whole night, home baked pizzas with snacks and a handful of movies. You were both snuggled up under a shared blanket, hands intertwined. He rested his chin atop your head. “It feels surreal, you know?” He spoke. You moved to get a look at him. His dark eyes soft as they glanced at you under the glow of the lit candles on the living room table.
“It feels like I’m about to wake up at any moment and resent myself for this only being a dream.” He continued, he looked melancholy, as his inked hands nervously played with yours. “I never wanted to lose you, and I did anyway.” Your heart felt heavy as you listened. You wanted to say something but you could tell he wasn’t done speaking.
He sighed, forcing himself to let it all out. “I think I’m in love with you, I think I’ve been for a very long time. I don’t really know the definition of love but I know that you’re all I think about. You make me feel safe and nervous at the same time and it’s very confusing,” you both chuckled before he continued.
“I can’t see anyone else being in your place and if I had the power to, I would freeze time so I could spend an eternity here with you.” You were crying now and his warm hand lifted to grasp your wet cheek. His eyes were alight and a smile grew on his lips as he laughed.
“Fuck,” you sniffled, a smile covering your lips as your heart pounded in your chest. You felt indescribable happiness and love. The type of love written in books and wished upon falling stars. “I think I’m in love with you too.” You answered and quickly placed your lips on his.
His hands found their way to your waist before guiding your body down. He leaned over you, his lips still on yours whilst his tongue begged for entrance, and you let him. His tongue fought for dominance whilst he fit himself between your thighs. He slowly separated his tongue from yours and softly nipped on your bottom lip. A breathy laugh escaped his lips, his breath warming your swollen lips.
He quickly kissed your face, speaking between his kisses. “I” kiss “love” kiss “you” kiss.
———————
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