MoshiMoUnhinged
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Summary
Ryan: Fuck
Ryan: Fuck Naim show me please
Ryan: Naim Naim Naim Naimy please fuck
Ryan: Fuck I’m ditching school, You cant just say you have a shirt of mine.
Or
Naim's heat flares up a few days after Ryan stays over, making him miss school and have to deal with it on his own, Ryan is very determined to help Naim out from school though.Series
- Part 2 of Call Your Mom
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“Want you in my nest,” He rumbles and is rewarded with Naim flushing a pretty red, falling into Ryan’s lap. “You smell so good dove.” The endearment slips out without guilt as he noses at the smaller gland, gently nipping at the skin around it. It’s intoxicating, it’s heaven as he laps at the mark he left and tastes the scent on his tongue, Naim squirming in his lap but bearing his neck for Ryan to take more of.
Or
Naim invites Ryan to come and nest for the first time at his place while his mom is out of town
Series
- Part 1 of Call Your Mom
Recent series
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- 0
- Works:
- 0
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Summary
Omegas Naim and Ryan’s journey from start to end.
This will be a ongoing series until I decide to end it.
- Words:
- 7,675
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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Summary
The gawk wore plainly across Naim’s face. He couldn’t stop it, so he simply let it be, allowing his expression to communicate his feelings for him.
“Naim?” Ryan murmured, sitting upright and converging into Naim’s space.
Naim just nodded. Ryan leaned in until the crown of his head completely blocked the moon, eclipsing Naim in his shadow. The blonde's silhouette took over his entire field of vision, erasing the rest of the world.
Ryan swallowed heavily, visibly deliberating his next move. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asked.
Or, Ryan is a dealer, and Naim is looking for a high.
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Slowly, as if it is the first time he's attempting it, Ryan smiles. Not the cocky, arrogant smile he puts up as a façade. Not the soft smile Naim knows him for, the one he reserved for their moments at the mill, for the times when the world was reduced to Ryan and Naim. No, Naim has never seen this smile on Ryan: all teeth on display, eyes half-lidded yet alert, his entire body straight as a rod, head slightly tilted towards Naim. He keeps the smile on even when Naim frowns back at him. He doesn't blink once.
Whatever walked out of the forest wasn't Ryan Whelan.
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They sit for a while in silence, Naim collapsed in Ryan’s lap while he plays with the blond curls that rest on the back of his neck. Naim wants to do something for him, wants to propose the idea. He never really asked, so Ryan’s never really said no, Naim just always noticed a pattern. Ryan is eager to please him, neglecting himself for his pleasure and usually leaving the exchange with his existing erection.
“Can I…do anything?” he stutters, it comes out sounding more like confusion than an honest question. “For you, I mean.”
or
Ryan pleases Naim, after Naim figures he should please him for a change. Ryan is vulnerable about his past, and Naim sucks him off in return.
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No place has really ever felt safe for Naim. Not Bandee, probably not even before, and not the time on the run. But now, Paris is something, a work in progress. One day, maybe it'll become a home. All that Naim has learnt during the past years is that, no matter how cliche that is, home is a person. And he's never felt truly safe and at home without Ryan.
Or, it’s a night full of celebrations for Naim and Ryan.
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Summary
Ryan Whelan is sick. Naim and him have to come to terms with their reality.
OR:
“I’m scared,” Ryan had whispered once to Naim, voice frail with labored breaths.
Truth was, so was Naim. He was terrified and didn’t know what to do. Every day it seemed Ryan got worse, and every day Naim felt more out of depth.