What the Future Brought Us // Zhang Yixing

late night

*mature content*

"Jinnie, baby, will you come sit down already?"

You had been walking around in the kitchen, cleaning, doing this and that, all in an effort to avoid Yixing and the impending teasing he was most definitely going to pull.

"I'm not done cleaning," you whined.

"You've been cleaning for like an hour now. Come sit down and rest. I'll come in there and get you if you don't listen to me."

You huffed, calling into the other room, "Oooh, I'm so scared. Big, bad Yixing is going to come get me."

"Don't mock me, Jinnie."

"I'm not mocking you. I thought it was a pretty accurate impersonation."

"God, Jinnie, why are you being so difficult all of the sudden?"

"I'm not being difficult. You're being difficult."

"Am I talking to Yejin or Jinyoung?"

​"Jinyoung still has a little ways to go before he can outwit you like me," you corrected.

"Will you just come sit down and relax?" Yixing sighed, finally meandering into the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pajama pants. "It's almost ten, and you're cleaning. Is something wrong?"

"Why are you harassing me about cleaning? Shouldn't you be delighted I'm doing this for you?"

"Jinnie," he sighed, pressing hand over his face for a moment.

"I think I'm going to just go to bed now," you decided.

"What? But we always—"

"Not tonight, Yixing," you shot him down, trying to ignore the fact you wanted to lick every inch of his flat torso.

...Did you really just think that? You really needed to get into your bedroom before you fell to your weakness and gave into him.

"Jinnie," he whined.

"I'm tired, Yixing."

"I know! That's why I told you to come sit down and relax with me."

"I really just want to go to sleep—"

"You can sleep with me, can't you?"

"Yixing..." you sighed.

"What? You don't trust me? Or, you can't sleep with me?"

"I trust you. You know I trust you."

Yixing's whiny voice and immature attitude had been traded for something much more serious and provocative, "You didn't answer my second question, baby."

"I—Yixing, no—Not... Don't do this to me."

"I'm not doing anything. I just said, you didn't answer my second question. Are you going to?"

"I..." you swallowed hard, your pride dissolving under the lusty gaze Yixing had trained on you, "you know my answer."

"I do," he cornered you easily, his arms slithering around you, his hips lightly pressing you against the counter behind you, "but I want to hear you say it."

Your hands had flattened against his chest, your head slightly ducked in shyness, and your face had begun to blaze at the feeling of his half-hard erection brushing against your thigh. You wouldn't be getting out of this so easily.

"I-I..."

"Come on, baby," Yixing breathed deeply, his fingers tilting up your chin.

Your face was just millimeters from his, his deep brown eyes bring into your own, his plush lips wetted by his tongue. Your noses brushed, and you sucked in a sharp breath, words just on the tip of your tongue.

"I'm getting impatient," he persisted. "So, would you sleep with me, baby?"

"I'd... yes," you blurted, even though you knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"My patience is really wearing thin. I want to hear you say it. Do you think you can do that?"

Your head dropped again in shyness, but you finally forced the words from your mouth, "I-I'd sleep w-with you, Yi-Yixing."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replied.

Without hesitation, his lips were on yours. You were tired, embarrassed, caught off guard—Yixing overwhelmed you, his hands lifting you onto the counter, his mouth hot and searing against your own. Your own hands gripped hard at his shoulders, and you whined as he hastily went for your neck. He sucked, and you whimpered, and he kissed, and you moaned. His fingers had found their way to your shorts, already sliding them off your legs. You weren't minding the rush—it had been so long since anything like this had happened, and you were already slick and wet, the area between your legs burning with desire.

"Don't let me be too hard on your hips," he murmured against your lips, his nose brushing yours. "I don't want to hurt you even in the slightest bit, baby."

You buried your hands into his hair and pulled him into a ferocious kiss, breaking away to retort, "Do you think I really care? I want you to fucking destroy me."

"Don't encourage me," he huffed, his pants already around his ankles and being kicked away, his fingers hooking under your pink panties to pull them off. "I'm sure you want to be able to walk to class tomorrow, don't you?"

"Fuck cla—​oh my god," your voice broke into a high pitch.

Yixing slowly pulled his hips back out from where he had jarringly buried himself in you, and you held your arms tight around his neck to keep yourself steady as he thrusted. His hips rolled, pushed and pulled, and you melted into his grasp. The feeling of him filling you up was beyond satisfaction; it made up for the years you had gone without. The control of his hips was staggering, and as he began to thrust harder, and harder, and harder, you were reduced to even more of limp mess in his arms. Whimpers and moans passed through your lips without thought, and Yixing continued to kiss your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, his hot panting spreading fiery warm breath across your flushed skin.

"Am I hurting you?" he gasped in a breath, his hips pushing hard into you, his cock stuffing into you with every quick thrust.

"No, no," you assured in a whiny breath, "don't stop. God, fuck me, Yixing."

Yixing snapped his hips at your command, and you squealed, digging your fingernails into his back. His thrusts became punishing, just as you had demanded, and at their brutality, you found yourself building up to your orgasm quickly.

"Yixing, Yixing, Yixing," you found yourself panting into his sweaty skin, holding tight to keep yourself stable his slamming thrusts jolted you every second. In a few short moment that followed, you finally reached your peak; pleasure blossomed in your stomach, spreading across your entire body in a wave of ecstasy. You repeated Yixing's name over and over in loud cries, dragging your fingernails over his skin with each cry. He pressed his forehead to your temple, letting you ride out your orgasm, and you came down from your high whimpering, still held tightly onto his shoulders, every muscle in your body still tense. At the feeling of your small hand wrapping around his thick cock, he groaned, and it took him only a few quick strokes before he was cumming, his cum streaking white onto the counter.

"I love you," he breathed. "And, God, I have waited a long time for this."

"I love you, too."

"Now that I've broken you in—"

"We are not fucking every night."

"Dammit."