#but it turns out his 'what's your type' question is something he picked up from YUKI
Note
Three times Charles or Max pined for you and the one time they finally did something about it?
Puppy
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: slight cursing
A/N: please don’t judge this, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything
Word count: 1.4k
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
“Charles? Mr. Leclerc?”
It wasn’t the voice that roused the driver from being trapped in a loop of thoughts within his own mind, it was the gentle but firm nudge against his arm.
His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows up and eyes slightly wide, “Huh?” He breathed out in confusion.
Carlos smirked a bit at his frazzled teammate, “They’re talking to you.”
Charles’s gaze finally floated to the ground below the stage he was sitting upon, where people were sitting in a line, looking up at him expectantly.
He shook his head slightly, lifting his microphone off of his lap and lifting it to his lips, “Sorry, what was that?”
The man that had been asking the question for the press conference looked slightly annoyed, but repeated his question anyway.
Leclerc gave a short answer before his gaze drifted back to the place it had previously been resting, to the person standing in the very back in the crowd, somehow in the middle of a light that made it very easy for his eyes to lock onto.
You, however, were not returning his gaze. Your head was down as you furiously typed away at your tablet, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration and as oblivious to the piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face as you were of the formula one driver's stare.
“You’re staring again, mate.” Carlos’s voice floated into his ear in a low murmur as he directed his microphone away from him so as to not pick up on their quiet conversation as the crowd continued without paying them any mind.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a pathetic lie, and they both knew it. Especially since he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes off of you long enough to even look at Sainz.
A chuckle escaped the man’s lips and he snickered, “Like a little lost puppy,” He mused.
That was able to finally bring Charles’s eyes away from you and to his teammate, blue orbs narrowing slightly, “Shut it,” Annoyance sat in his tone, though he didn’t bother even trying to deny anything.
Without even looking at you, it was as if the man could sense your movement and turned back to you just in time for you to look up from your device, your eyes locking with his.
“Smile,” You mouthed, knowing very well as his pr that any bad media pictures would not be fun to clean up in the morning.
He did so without hesitation, allowing his face to soften so he didn’t look as stoic as he had when he was addressing Carlos.
You smiled at him in gratitude before returning your gaze to the work you had been previously doing.
“Puppy dog,” This time, when Carlos whispered in a sing-song voice, Charles only allowed his smile to widen.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
“Here,” Charles’s voice was a soft murmur as he all but materialized beside you.
You glanced to his face then to the flute of champagne in his outstretched hand and took it eagerly, imminently taking a generous sip, “Was it that obvious that I needed it?”
He smiled softly, eyes trained on you as you scanned the crowded room of the charity event that the company had all of the current formula one drivers at currently, “I could sense it.”
It wasn’t any secret that this was one of the most important- and therefore stressful- nights of the season so far for you. Not only were you responsible for making sure that Leclerc looked good in the eyes of the public, but your bosses had enlisted in your help with doing the same for all of the other nineteen drivers.
Apparently you had done such an excellent job with Charles that they wanted to place you in charge of this night. You were never one to turn down new opportunities, no matter how much stress you knew it would bring.
Charles, bless him, had remained by your side for almost the entirety of the night so far, remaining like an anchor to your sanity.
From replacing Lando’s drinks with water to having to pull Daniel away from jumping onto a table, the man had helped you with every task without question nor complaint.
“You’ve been such a big help tonight,” You met the drivers gaze, your eyes wide and full of complete gratitude, “Thank you so much for all of this.”
He waved you off, “I don’t mind,” He told you honestly.
A sigh left your lips, “But you should be enjoying yourself-“
“I am.” Charles insisted earnestly, “This is fun.”
You laughed, “Fun?”
“Fun.” He echoed, subconsciously, moving a strand of hair that had fallen into your face without even thinking about it.
Your smile softened as you looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes so fast that you almost missed it. What it was, you didn’t know.
“Thank you,” You spoke again, your voice soft and full of emotion.
Charles just smiled, never once tearing his eyes away from your face.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
“What’s all of this?” Your lips were parted as you spun in place to look around the room, eyes wide.
“Happy birthday!” Carlos cheered excitedly, bounding across the room full of the Ferrari team until he was right in front of you, sweeping you up into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.
“You did all of this?” You gawked up at him when he finally set you down.
“I helped,” He admitted before a large, cheesy grin overtook his features and he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “You’ll never guess who set this all up, though.” His voice was light and teasing.
Your heart swelled in your chest, “Charles,”
As if summoned by the sound of his name falling softly off of your lips, he appeared from within the crowd of red and yellow, joy alight on his features.
“Happy birthday,” He whispered softly as he came to stand by your side, ignoring the smirk Carlos sent him as he slipped away, giving you two some privacy.
The beam that he was met with was as bright as the sun, “Thank you, for all of this. Seriously.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiled, “You do so much for me, this is the least I can do.”
Without thinking much of it, you pushed yourself onto your toes and left a lingering kiss on the man’s cheek, not even noticing his face go red nor his eyes go wide.
“Well, thank you anyway.” You spoke softly when you lowered yourself back to the ground.
“Who wants cake?” Landos voice boomed through the small room, interrupting Charles right as he opened his mouth to say something.
You joined everyone else in your cheers of response, excitedly taking Leclerc's hand in yours and pulling him towards the dessert table.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
“I’m so proud of you,” You lolled your head to the side as you spoke, voice full of nothing but complete confidence and honesty.
Charles shook his head softly from the cushions beside you, “I didn’t get pole position.” Defeat crept into his tone.
“No,” You admitted, “But you got p2. Which is pretty damn close.”
“I-“ He opens his mouth to argue more.
You cut him off by firmly grabbing his hand in your own, angling your body to face him, “None of that.” You spoke strictly, catching onto his gaze being locked in your intertwined hands, “You raced amazing and did the absolute best you could.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m proud of you.”
His eyes flickered up to yours, staring into them for a moment as the briefest look of hesitation overcame his features.
Before you could even begin to question it, however, the man seemed to take a quick breath to muster confidence, before leaning in and connecting his lips with yours.
Your eyes widened briefly- for no more than a split second- and just as he went to pull away, you dove forward, capturing his lips in yours once more.
Before the kiss could deepen too much, you both pulled away slightly to catch your breaths, “I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that.” Charles admitted breathlessly.
You grinned up at him in response, “I’m glad you finally did it.”
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n
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show me | l. at
virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words
stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.
contains: loss of virginity
“are you going on a date next week?”
you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.
“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.
you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.
“your mom told me.” you responded.
you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.
“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.
knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner.
it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was.
one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.
you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week.
you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.
“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.
he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.
“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.
anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long.
too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.
when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.
“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.
you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.
“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.
the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you.
anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.
“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.
he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again.
“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.
anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?
“what do you mean?” anton asked.
anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.
“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.
what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.
“do you mean—” he stutters.
“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.
there’s that her again.
“with belle?” anton specifies.
you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.
“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.
anton sees you hesitate before you nod.
“completely as friends.” you confirm.
anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.
“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.
you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.
“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.
anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin.
“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.
you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.
“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.
you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch.
anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same.
you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths.
you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.
“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.
“thank you.” anton says back.
he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.
you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.
“what’s next?” anton asks.
you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.
“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”
you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.
anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.
“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.
“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”
you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.
you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.
when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.
what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.
“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.
anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.
anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.
“sorry” anton said sheepishly.
as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you.
when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.
“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.
you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.
“is this okay?” anton asks.
it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.
when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.
when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.
“help me take my underwear off.” you say.
any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.
anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.
anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.
“wow.” anton sighs.
your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.
“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.
you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.
“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.
anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.
“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.
“yeah.” you said breathlessly.
you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.
“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.
anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.
“holy shit.” anton whispers.
you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace.
your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.
“do this with your other hand if you can.”
the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.
“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.
anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.
without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.
“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.
you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.
“what should i do?” anton asks.
even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.
“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”
you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.
“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.
you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.
anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking.
instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.
“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.
when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.
anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.
“is everything okay?” anton asks.
you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.
“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask
anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss.
“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.
“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.
anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.
“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.
you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny.
anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.
“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.
anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.
“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.
you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.
when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.
“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.
anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently.
“so pretty.” you coo.
anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.
“sorry.” anton said.
“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”
anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.
“and why is that?” anton asks.
“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.
when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.
“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath.
you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders.
you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.
he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.
“i really won’t last long.” anton says.
his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.
“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.
instantly anton nods his head.
“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.
for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.
“let’s put it in together.” you say.
anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you.
his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.
“are you ready?“ you ask.
you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.
“so big.” you whisper to anton.
he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.
“can i move?” anton asks.
when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.
“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts.
“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.
you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.
you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.
anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.
“so big.” you say into anton’s ear.
you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.
his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.
“so deep.” you whine.
anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together.
anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.
“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.
he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.
the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.
you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.
“i’m so close.” you whimper.
you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back.
it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.
you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him.
neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.
the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.
his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.
“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.
“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.
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Can be read as a continuation to my previous work about Gale, but can also be read independently.
Today had been a tiring day, especially for their de-facto leader, Gale thinks. The situation at the goblin village could have turned for the worse had you not smooth talked your way through.
And yet you’ve gone back to dueling the fire with your eyes again, he notes. However unlike last time, he chooses to stay put in his own corner of the camp.
Given his last attempt at light but stimulating conversation, he’s mostly sure that he will never do such a thing ever again. Lest he wants to feel the less than comfortable stares of everyone awake when he returns to his tent.
Alone and unaccompanied.
Doesn’t mean that he can’t observe you from here though. While he should be reading up on a rather interesting book he picked up from today’s skirmish, the pages haven’t been graced with his eyes quite nearly as much as your form.
Naturally, he doesn’t realize this until something, or rather someone, catches his attention.
Astarion.
Usually not one to leave his own comfortable area of the camp, it was surprising to see him choose to settle in at a bedroom nearer the fire.
To approach you in such a manner. Almost as if you were familiar with another.
“Which couldn’t be since you would have only met one another after the crash,” he reasons.
He makes a comment from his lax position on his bedroll. Opens the conversation with you the same way that he’s certain he did a few nights ago, and yet the response couldn’t be more different.
The action draws what looks to be an exasperated sigh from you, but Gale notices your eyes soften at the elf’s remark. You don’t turn to face him, but still respond while focusing on the camp’s light.
Astarion stands to be nearer to you, perhaps trying to convince you of something, as he slings an arm around your shoulder. Face, nearing yours. The thumb of his slung-over hand seemingly grazing the skin of your exposed collarbone, uncovered by the looser strings of your shirt.
Gale feels his jaw slacken as he watches this very scene unfold before him. The book, long forgotten as the strength in his arm wanes, almost dropping it. He feels his eyes bug out of his skull when he sees you place your hand on top the pale fellow’s in what he can only assume is an affectionate gesture.
He’ll admit, perhaps he wasn’t paying attention to you earlier in the days you reunited. With the way you were avoiding him, it seemed like you wanted him to forget you existed or pretend like you didn’t know each other.
But how could he?
How could he when you inspired him so?
How could he when your wit and creativity showed him more ways the weave could be practiced?
How could he when he knew that all your friends had always been more like Aatarion’s type, and that you’ve always seemed to avoid his?
He supposed he shouldn’t be be surprised then, if he claims to know you so well. It was inevitable that you would warm up to the elf so quickly. Alike in charm and nerve.
And if you still haven’t warmed up to the wizard in the years of study you shared, he doubts you ever will.
Ah, but where will all this conjecture get him? He’s still dealing with the loss of Mystra’s favor and it’s vicious consequences. What use would it be to watch like this?
He takes one last look at your joined hands before he sees you respond and heads in to his tent. Perhaps a bit of rest will help temper whatever wave of emotions it is that washes over him.
“Astarion.” You warn with your warmer hand atop his.
“Hm?”
You turn your head to look at him and you’re greeted by that self-aggrandizing smirk that always curls up on his face.
The sight makes you sigh. No answer to his earlier question will get you out of this.
Tricky bastard.
“Your fingers are cold.” He clicks his tongue at that, but removes himself from your form anyway. A catty, “you’re no fun” leaving his lips as he distances himself from you.
He smiles anyway and tilts his head to the side. Standing to rest all his weight on one leg, and waves you off with one hand.
“I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” You shakes your head at that and turn to leave.
“Good night Astarion.”
“Sweet dreams, dear mage.”
He’s convinced you enough to try.
#bg3 x reader#not proofread#I’m going to sleep now#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios x tav#Gale of Waterdeep#gale of waterdeep x tav#gale of waterdeep x reader#bg3 gale x reader#bg3 gale x tav#gale dekarios#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale bg3#bg3 gale
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Could I get prompt 7 with a female tourist reader passing through Santa Carla with Marko?👀
7. I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?
Absolutely! I hope you like this, and thanks for requesting!💜
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In a city like Santa Carla, it was hard to truly stand out. Everyone was their own kind of crazy, and it took a certain something to truly stand out. That's why the town was such a haven for the undead, the unknown, and the unnatural. To stand out, there had to be something unique or special about them - at least for humans. For a vampire, it took less. A certain smell, a certain blood type - or the lack of all of these things.
Maybe that was why Marko had kept an eye on her all night, wondering why his eyes kept being drawn to her. She didn't smell any different than any other women around, she didn't have a rare bloodtype... no, based on scent alone she was just like any other women in the crowd. And yet - he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
I had noticed the stares he gave me, when I joined the crowds. When I went to a small concert at the beach, following the show up with a drink at a bar. Wherever I went, I felt his eyes upon me. And if I was being honest, it unnerved me quite a bit.
When I got out of the bar I saw him staring at me again, little over ten feet away. I took a small breath, deciding that this was it. I walked towards him, head held high, ready to tell him I was done with him being a creep when-
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" An old woman had bumped right into me, holding what could only be described as a bucket that was once filled with ice cold water. I was totally drenched, shivering as the wind picked up. "You must forgive me, dear, I didn't see you-"
"Yeah," I waved her off, "sure. Don't worry about it." I stepped past her, frowning when I realised that the boy that had been staring wasn't there.
As I walked over the boardwalk, searching for the boy - or man, whatever his age was - I couldn't help but shiver. I was still wet, and the wind was only getting stronger. I couldn't stay like this much longer, and I decided to head in to the next restaurant to see if I could order some tea and some soup to warm up.
The only store that was still open is the Chinese restaurant at the corner of the walk, and with a small sigh I pushed the door open. The smell of rice and noodles hit my nose instantly. I went up to the counter, placing my order for a tea and some noodle soup when I saw him.
"You!" I looked at him. "You've been staring at me all night!"
"I have."
I blinked. He didn't even deny it. That was weird, right?
"Why?"
"You're different."
"Why?" I asked it again, sliding in the seat across from him.
"I don't know."
"I don't like being stared at. If I catch you again, I will -"
"You'll what?" He asked, sounding more curious than threatening. I shrugged slightly.
"I don't know, burn your eyes out, or cut them out or something."
He chuckled. "Then I'll make sure you won't catch me."
I glared at him, causing him to grin. He kept looking at me, taking me in.
"You're shivering."
I bit my tongue as I looked at him. He wanted to play all flirty all night? Fine, I could play that game too.
"I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?"
Now it was his turn to be taken aback.
"Bit forward."
"So is staring."
"It's different."
"It's not, though. I was serious about my question, I feel like I'm turning into an icecube here."
He sighed as he took his jacket of, handing it to me.
"I'm Marko."
I smiled as I took the jacket, putting it on. It was large and incredibly warm - I instantly felt better. When he told me his name, I decided I would tell him mine. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here.
"Am I really that different?" I asked as the waitress brought me my tea and soup.
"It's mainly your attitude. I can't really describe it."
"But it's obvious enough to stare?"
"You looked back, though."
I nodded as I sipped my tea. "I did. Maybe I wanted to know who I was dealing with."
"What would you have done, if you hadn't been doused with water?"
"I'd probably would have yelled at you, called you a creep and depending on your response I might have hit you in the face."
"You had a plan."
I grinned at him, quite enjoying his presence. "Absolutely. Never go anywhere without it."
"So, what's your plan with my coat?"
"Hm," I thought for a moment, eating some bites of my soup, "I'm keeping it hostage."
"You're keeping my coat hostage?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"That way you have a definite reason to pick me up tomorrow evening."
I smiled at him causing him to laugh. Yeah, as unnerving as his staring had been, he was fun. The banter had been proof of that.
"Alright. How about I also drop you off tonight?"
"I wouldn't mind that. But I'm still keeping your jacket."
"I'll take it back tomorrow."
"We'll see," I grinned, placing some bills on the table and standing up. His order was called out, and he led me outside to his bike.
Marko grinned as he felt her arms wrapped tightly around him. He still wasn't sure what she was to him or why, but he knew that he wouldn't kill her. Something about her made it impossible to do so. Besides, he liked her company. As he drove through the streets towards her motel, he couldn't help but feel as if this was all somehow exactly how it was supposed to be.
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gerrymichael enjoyers and writers i want your opinion 🎤
ok so i have this au fic for gerrymichael where it's college au, and it's a like the whole bad boy/good girl (minus the fact they're both boys, and even that's questionable)
basically, gerry is stereotyped due to his more alternative looks and everyone assumes he's probably doing illegal things or just sleeps around a lot
meanwhile michael is the head of student council "goody two shoes" type, who most are sort of aware of but don't know anything about
gerry thinks about michael. a lot. he sees them in the halls for only a few seconds a day but thinks about him for a lot longer. hallway crush vibes. and when they get put into a painting class together, suddenly they have an opportunity to meet, and gerry is freaking out a usual amount. (there's more to the whole plot but that's just the beginning bit)
putting a short lil concept thing under the cut
Gerard Keay does not know Michael Shelley.
The only reason he knows their name is because they're in the student council, meaning it's not uncommon for their name to be said during school events.
He has only seen them in hallways, passing by in a rush while holding papers or books that always seem like they're going to fall out of their hands. Even in those moments, most of what Gerard is able to catch is a blur of golden curls and eyes that are ridden with exhaustion.
So, it is safe to say that he does not know Michael.
That fact only caused confusion to him whenever Gerard realized his strange excitement once learning that Michael would be in one of his classes for the semester.
It was an art class, one that he had picked due to him already being practiced is painting and drawing. He assumed it would be a fun class, or at least one that wouldn't be too stressful. However, when he had first walked into that classroom and saw Michael Shelley sitting at an area in the back, Gerard had assumed the emotion he was feeling was stress. He couldn't pinpoint why, it wasn't like he was intimidated by their status, but he couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness he felt when he accidentally locked eyes with them. He turned his head quickly in that moment, deciding to sit in the front of the room despite that not being where he'd usually prefer to be. Something about Michael sitting there made Gerard think twice about sitting in the back as he normally would.
The lecture went smoothly, it mostly being an introduction to the professor and what would be happening throughout the classes. So did the next, and then the next one after that. That didn't get rid of the feeling he felt, however, every time that Gerard walked into that room and attempted to avoid looking at the one with golden curls in the back. He knew he'd have to talk to them at some point, it was inevitable, but there was something about them that meant he was more nervous to talk to them than he usually would be. And he very much denied the idea that it could be caused by any... feelings he may have. Gerard ruled it as impossible, as he had never spoken to them, and he wasn't that much of an idiot to fall for someone he'd only mostly seen in hallways.
Michael wasn't one to speak up in class, and instead they'd work silently on any research on the history of art they may have been doing, only giving simple responses or nods when the professor would come around and ask how their work was coming along. When Gerard thought about it, he didn't really know what their voice sounded like because it was always quiet or unintelligible from their distance. That only made him more interested in talking to them.
That day never came, though, much to Gerard's disappointment.
They both went through that class without talking to each other once, and when Gerard left that room for the last time he couldn't help but feel like he had failed at some kind of goal. A failure that had meant he would be left with only seeing the elusive Michael Shelley in hallway rushes again, which annoyed him in a way he didn't understand.
He did talk to them one day, though.
(note this is old as heck lmao i've gotten better at writing since i wrote this)
anyways yeah. should i continue it or is it too basic idk, i want to write it for me but it would also be multiple chapters long and my "1k-words-is-rare-for-me" self probably won't bother to write it unless someone else is interested
#just want a consensus idk#if anyone has suggestions i will also take those#or if anyone wants to write it with me maybe.... :3c#(please i want to write a fic with someone it's fun)#anyways#yeah#very stereotypical. very american highschool vibes#realistically would be better as hs au but i don't feel right writing romantic interactions between minors for Clear Reasons#gerrymichael#gerry keay#gerard keay#michael shelley#doorkeay#robyn-i-guess
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I love that Mei Mei is such an off-putting freak. Even if I don't personally like her, I love that she exists. I love that Gege Akutami is not afraid to fuck up, scar up, and kill off his female characters. I love that they're as strange and eccentric and varied as anyone could be.
He doesn't treat them delicately, or with kid gloves. He treats them with the exact same consideration he does his male characters. As vehicles for the story first-- because that's what they are.
#there's a smaller ratio of women so when bad things happen to them it feels lopsided#but im exasperated by these complaints about gege's supposed misogyny#i think it's weirder y'all take exception to his fantastic storytelling#he's not being UNFAIR#men get just as fucked in his storytelling#it's a fucked story!!#anyway needed to get this off my chest#after seeing one too many complaints#lemme complain back#jjk spoilers#my jjk#jujutsu kaisen#the main character is missing a pinky and half his ear#megumi's fate is as up in the air as nobara#i hope they're both dead#i was actually for sure that they were but fandom keeps making me second guess myself#when they die it's not BECAUSE they're women characters#it's because of what's happening in the world#the first character we think might be a gross pervy roshi or jiraiya type is todo#but it turns out his 'what's your type' question is something he picked up from YUKI#that's hilarious#he's a simp for an idol but so what?#the REAL misogynists and sexists are treated with genuine hatred#the narrative is very clear that they're disgusting and not a Good Thing#idk fandom is exhausting sometimes#sometimes i'll look at one thing and fandom will go off in a wildly different direction#and i'm over here like#did we consume the same media?????#let's try to be more bloggy shall we#jjk meta
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal.
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.”
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to.
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you.
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you.
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections.
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.”
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it.
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer.
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.”
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out.
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them.
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking.
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you.
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands.
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon.
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.”
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip.
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum.
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight.
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower.
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure.
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out.
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all.
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again.
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost smut#simin ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost#cod ghost#cod mwf2#cod
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tatted
words: 1k
warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos
“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.
“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.
you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.”
“wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face.
“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.
“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.
“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”
you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.”
--
“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.
“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”
“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.
“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.
“you-you got a tattoo?”
rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.
“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.
“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.
--
“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.
“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep.
“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.
“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.
“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.
--
“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed.
“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.
“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.
“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.
he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating.
he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.
--
rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.
“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic.
“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.
“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.”
you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.
rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”
rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.
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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k
content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺
> in which masterlist!
note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺
—
jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.
tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.
and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.
you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.
you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.
“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”
jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.
“____, baby!”
upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.
“jungkook!”
you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.
“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.
“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”
the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.
he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?
“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”
“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”
he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.
“yeah, of course i am,”
jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.
“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”
he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”
“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”
“oh, okay. have a nice night!”
“you too,”
he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.
his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.
is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.
he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.
“who was that?”
“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”
he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.
what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.
“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.
an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.
“makes me nervous,”
his dominant hand closes into a fist.
if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.
“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”
you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.
out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.
“i missed you!”
“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.
“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”
—
“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.
“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”
“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”
the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.
unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.
you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.
“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”
“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”
something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.
“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.
he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.
as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.
you mistake his silence for something else.
you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”
he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”
you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.
he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.
isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.
three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.
he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.
and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.
much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.
jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.
maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.
“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.
what the fuck. too bright.
“me too…”
—
“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.
his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.
“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”
“whatever i want?”
he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”
he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.
“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.
“i thought you already had something in mind?”
“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.
you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.
jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”
“i’m okay,”
“you sure?”
“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.
he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.
the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.
he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.
be careful of what you wish for, they said.
jungkook should know better by now.
“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.
he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.
you’re so pretty. everywhere.
even when naked and bare.
no, especially. it’s all he can think about.
he can draw you from memory.
“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.
the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.
“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”
your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.
a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.
“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”
his warning is cut short by-
“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.
okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.
you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.
and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.
“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”
he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.
while he’s driving? really?
doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?
you are not real.
“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”
he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.
“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”
wrong move.
the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.
jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.
also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.
you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.
“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”
“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”
“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”
“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”
“what do you mean?” you exclaim.
you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.
“jungkook, i hate you!”
“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”
“and there’s not one in your wallet?”
“babe, are you serious?!”
“what?!”
somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.
but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.
“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.
he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”
“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”
“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”
“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”
the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.
he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“baby, stop being stu-”
he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.
“…bborn…”
he blinks.
he inhales. he exhales.
and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.
“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”
—
jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.
his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.
there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.
except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.
he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.
“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”
“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”
his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.
you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.
he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”
you shake your head to answer his question.
“then how are you already eating?”
you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.
“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”
“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.
he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.
you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.
“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”
you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”
“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.
“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.
“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”
the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.
—
you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.
“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”
“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”
his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.
“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”
“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”
“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.
“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”
“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”
he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.
“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”
you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”
“you promise me?”
“i promise!”
he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”
“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.
comfortable silence follows suit.
the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.
he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.
“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”
“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”
“just trust me, alright?”
you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.
“can i make a guess?”
“nope!”
you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.
“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”
—
you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.
jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.
“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”
“i’m planning on it.”
his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.
he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”
“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”
“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.
a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.
“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”
“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”
oh my fucking god.
he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.
“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”
“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”
your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.
“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”
“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”
“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”
his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.
“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”
jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.
you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.
how did he get so lucky?
rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.
you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.
“what are we doing here?”
jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”
—
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#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#bts imagine#bts fanfic
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weakness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 5.7k
“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”
You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”
“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”
You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.
“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”
“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”
“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.
“But Frank—”
“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.
“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.
“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”
Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”
Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.
“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”
You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.
Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.
You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.
Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.
Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”
“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”
Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.
What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?
What’s he going to think?
Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.
“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”
You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”
“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.
“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”
Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”
Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”
“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”
“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”
He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”
“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.
“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”
You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”
He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”
You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”
Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”
For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.
Could Frank actually be right?
Do you actually mean something to Joel?
No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.
“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”
“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”
Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”
“You are his weakness.”
He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.
“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.
“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”
“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.
When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”
Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.
“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.
As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”
“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”
Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”
“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”
Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.
“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.
Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.
“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.
Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.
“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”
Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”
His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.
Had he actually meant that?
“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.
Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”
Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.
Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.
Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.
As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.
Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.
About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”
“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.
You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”
Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.
A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”
“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”
Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”
“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.
“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”
You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”
“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.
You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.
When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.
“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”
“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”
Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”
You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”
Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”
The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.
“What? But what about you?”
“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”
Bill and Joel being neighbors?
Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.
“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”
“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”
You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”
The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.
The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.
“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”
Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”
“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”
Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.
“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”
“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”
“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”
You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.
Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.
He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.
Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.
“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”
Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”
You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”
“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”
Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.
He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.
Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.
“Joel…”
Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.
“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”
Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.
You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.
Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.
The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.
“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.
His face remains just inches from yours.
“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”
“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.
Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”
You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”
He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.
This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.
Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.
“Well, well, well.”
Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.
“How long have you been standing back there?”
“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”
You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.
So maybe he’d been right after all.
Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.
But he was yours too.
#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#tlou fanfiction#tlou imagine#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel miller pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader
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Ass or Tits?
❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣
❣ Word Count: 6.4k
❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣
❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣
❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited
❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
“Hey, Hyune?”
The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”
“What do you like better, ass or tits?”
He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.
“Your ass or tits?”
There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.
You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!? This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”
“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”
His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”
Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.
“Mm… Tits.”
“I knew it.”
“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”
“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.
|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋
“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.
“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”
“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”
“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”
“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”
The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.
“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”
The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.
“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”
Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”
“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”
“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”
“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”
“I can because I chose her tits!”
Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”
“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.
“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”
Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”
“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”
“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”
The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”
“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”
“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.
“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”
That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”
“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”
His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”
“That wasn’t even an-”
You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”
“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”
“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.”
Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.
“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.
“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”
“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”
The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”
Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”
“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.
“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”
Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”
In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.
“Can we, Jagi?”
You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”
Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?
“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?”
Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.
“Are you ready, angel?”
You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”
In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you.
Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.
“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”
Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”
“Smarta-”
The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.
“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”
Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.
“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”
Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.
“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.
“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.
It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.
In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.
“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.
Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”
There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.
“You have such a way with words, you know that?”
Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”
Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.
“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”
“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”
The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”
“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”
Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.
The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”
It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.
“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”
“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”
You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”
If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.
Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.
“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”
A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.
Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.
“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”
You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”
The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.
“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”
“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”
Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.
With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.
“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.
You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.
“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”
You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.
His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”
Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”
He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”
“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”
The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.
“You okay, pup?”
Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”
You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.
Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”
“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”
Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”
Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.
“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”
Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”
You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.
“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”
“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”
Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.
“Noona, please-”
“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”
He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”
Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”
With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.
“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”
“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”
“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”
“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”
“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”
Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.
“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”
This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.
You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.
“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”
The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”
At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.
“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.
A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”
Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.
“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”
The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.
“Minho!”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.
“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”
Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.
Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.
The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.
Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”
Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.
He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.
“There it is.”
Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.
“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.
Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”
There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.
“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”
You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.
“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”
“Binnie.”
Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.
“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”
Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.
It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.
Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.
“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”
A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.
“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”
His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”
“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”
“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”
“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”
Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”
“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”
Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.
“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”
You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”
Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.
“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.
Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.
“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”
As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.
“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”
This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.
“Oh, god-”
There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.
“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”
Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”
A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.
With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.
He was definitely going to blow your back out.
It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.
“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”
It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.
“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”
“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.
He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”
Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.
The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.
“Sungie?”
“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”
“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”
Oh.
It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.
“Channie?”
“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”
“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”
“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”
“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”
With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.
“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”
You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.
“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”
“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”
Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”
“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”
“Seungmin!”
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @mahklathekpopqueen
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
#skz smut#stray kids smut#Poly! Stray Kids#Poly OT8! SKZ#bang chan x reader#lee minho x reader#seo changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#yang jeongin x reader#ot8 x reader#ot8 skz
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Talkative- M. Sturniolo
pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons
inspiration: request
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship
summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!
Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)
Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)
—
☆ SFW
It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.
☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.
☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.
☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.
☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”
☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.
☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”
☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.
☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”
☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.
☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.
☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.
☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it
☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying
☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.
☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.
☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.
☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.
☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”
☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”
☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.
☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.
☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.
☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.
☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”
☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”
☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”
☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.
☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.
☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.
☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.
☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.
☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.
☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.
☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.
☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”
☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.
☆ NSFW
Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.
☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.
☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.
☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.
☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.
☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.
☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”
☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“
☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”
☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”
☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.
☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.
☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.
☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”
☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.
☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”
☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.
☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.
☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.
☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.
—
MASTERLIST
A/n:
YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️
thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
—
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x y/n#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo headcannons#matthew sturniolo x y/n#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo oneshot#matthew sturniolo fanfic#sturniolos#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x y/n#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris x y/n
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DUOLINGO DATE : NRK
synopsis: niki catches u practicing japanese on duolingo just for him while he’s asleep
wc: 777 words
pairing: nishimura riki x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: niki teases, y/n throws a pillow, cliché, very cringey I must admit
“translate: a vegetable”
you quickly typed “やさい” into your keyboard, earning a little ding meaning you were correct.
moving onto the next question you were determined to finish the lesson under 30 seconds, even though your speed did not matter in the slightest.
“translate: どうもありがとう!”
“this is way too easy.” you whispered, swiftly typing “thank you very much!” into the space provided. duo blinked at you, then cheered.
“どうもありがとう duo!” you said, giggling as you prepared to answer the next question.
“translate: 先生, おはようございます”
as you were typing the correct english translation, a voice suddenly interrupted.
“what the actual fuck are you doing.”
you jumped, dropping your phone onto the floor and holding your chest, gasping for breath.
“YOU WERE MEANT TO BE SLEEPING!” you declared to your boyfriend as if he was somehow in the wrong for waking up to your extremely loud duolingo practice.
niki laughed and shook his head.
“HELLO why are you learning Japanese from a BIRD when you have me?” he asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, now propped up on his elbows.
“because! you were ASLEEP!” you were determined to blame him but only so you could mask your embarrassment.
niki just rolled his eyes, muttering something in japanese that you tried your absolute hardest to understand. but that was merely impossible considering you were still on level one of “greetings” according to Duo’s lesson plan.
“what was that?” you asked accusingly.
“did you not understand? i thought you were a japanese master…” he teased, a smug look on his face.
you just threw a pillow at him in return. this brought about the most dramatic gasp that you had ever heard from niki, which was not easy to beat considering he did this all the time.
you watched as he contemplated picking up the nearest pillow and chucking it at your head in the name of revenge, but paused and composed himself.
“y/n, why are you learning japanese? especially while I’m asleep?” there was a slight smirk on his lips that let you know that he already knew the answers to his own questions, he just wanted to tease you.
“you know, I know, we all know- let’s move on haha go back to sleep goodnightnikisweetdreams!” you rambled, quickly diving under the covers, hiding your face and turning your body away from him.
this didn’t really do anything. you were only met with loud shuffling and breaths until your boyfriend was now laying next to you, also underneath the covers.
“this is nice.” he whispered sarcastically, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the duvet above him.
“now what do you want.” you turned your body now to face him, only to be met with the same mischievous smirk as before.
“tell me why you were learning japanese as a secret.”
“no.”
“yes!”
“no?”
“YES???”
“FINE. fine fine fine fine you win- alright- whatever- yes I was learning japanese because I wanted to surprise you and your family to make them feel more comfortable at dinner tomorrow and to make you happy.” you whispered the last part, letting out a deep sigh. “can we go to sleep now?”
even in the dark underneath your blankets, you could still pick out the rose colored tint that dusted niki’s cheeks, paired with an equally as flustered grin.
“thank you.” was all he could manage to say without getting too lovey-dovey. slowly, you began to smile back, finding his reaction to be quite sweet, a complete contrast to his sass from moments prior.
niki then grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him so that your head was now resting against his chest with your arms around his waist.
you breathed in his warmth, eyes peacefully closing.
“do you want to stay under the covers because I’m starting to sweat…” he whispered, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence. you just laughed, jokingly rolling your eyes. your laugh instantly made him chuckle as well, chin rested on the top of your head.
“yeah I’m overheating as well.” you slowly released your hands from around his waist and shoved the blanket away, the cool air of your apartment rushing in.
“better?” you asked, fanning his face.
“much.” he grabbed your wrists again and put your arms back to the way they were, wrapped around his waist.
“goodnight riki.” you whispered, titling your head up to lightly press a kiss to his chin.
“goodnight, sneaky japanese prodigy.” he whispered back, smiling as he kissed the top of your head.
and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the same way you did each night. and as always, you wished that you could stay this way forever.
a/n: 🫠😅💃🏼🩰😚😊☺️😳 guys I wrote this like last summer bc I was trying to beat my gf in our friends quest on duolingo LOLLLL yes freja this is inspired by u. Guys also I gave up learning Japanese on duolingo bc it made absolutely no sense ??? n e ways
#chaewandz#enhypen#ni ki enhypen#niki imagines#enha imagines#enha soft hours#niki soft hours#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen fics#niki drabbles#niki scenarios#niki oneshots#enhypen oneshots#nishimura riki
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TW: some nsfw
fem reader
Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.
You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.
He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.
You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”
You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.
“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.
“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.
His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.
“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”
You were all alone?
He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?
“Pizza’s good.”
You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”
You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.
“Where’s your books?”
You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”
You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.
“Here.”
He raises a brow at you.
“Have you ever even opened them?”
You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”
He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.
“Well, it’s a pretty name.”
You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.
In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.
He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.
He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.
The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.
Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you.
He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.
You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”
You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.
Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.
“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.
You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”
BNHA – Shigaraki, Shinso, Bakugou
JJK – Megumi, Nanami, Choso, Yuuta, Geto, Gojo
HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro
CSM – Aki
DS – Zenitzu, Tanjiro
HxH – Feitan, Leorio
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk smut#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha smut#my hero smut#yandere csm#yandere aot
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I've been thinking non stop about Mike liking Abby's new daycare teacher but is too shy to do anything so Abby just casually mentions that her big brother has a crush on you and is doing weird things like checking his hair and only wearing the same pants two days in a row instead of four. So when u spill that Abby told u he doesn't know whether to be mad at her or not bc if ur wasn't for her he would have a date
I LOVEE THESE TYPES OF THINGS GN! READER
you’re sweet, patient, professional while managing to slip in some casualness to the conversations that you and mike have (short and cordial always) that make him feel like you’re more of an acquaintance and not just someone he indirectly pays.
you’re young, around his age he assumes, and he confirms his assumptions when he’s questioning abby.
“your, uh, new teacher,” he starts as he’s finishing up dinner (spaghetti again).
abby hums from behind him. “what about them?” mike turns to glance at his sister who sits on the counter, her feet thudding against the cheap cabinets with the way she kicks them.
he turns back to the stove, shrugging and scratching at his ear. “nothing i was just wondering about them. like … are they … cool?”
and mike is so glad that abby has always been the more talkative one out of the two of them because she’s immediately thrusting herself into an analysis of your quirks and how you really care about the children.
long story short, abby likes you just as much as mike does. even more, actually.
she’s always running to hug you when mike drops her off and picks her up, and he distantly wishes he could do the same. he thinks he’s playing it cool, sending you tight lipped smiles and waves that are a little too disjointed.
but abby is more perceptive than he thinks.
each time he tells himself he’s going to have an actual conversation with you. maybe mention the band tee you wear on a casual friday or ask about the song you were humming before he’d arrived. there’s intentions for him to get to know you and eventually ask you out.
but he backs out each time.
leaving abby to play matchmaker.
when mike comes in one thursday afternoon, hoodie soaked from the thunderstorm outside, he greets you and notices that your smile is a little more bashful than usual. abby is running around with her friends inside, playing an intense game of indoor freeze tag, and mike is trying to get her attention but you stop him.
“they can play for a while longer. i couldn’t let both of you go out in that storm.”
he looks out the window and notices that somehow, it’d gotten stronger.
“uh, do you want something hot to drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee?” you sound shy, maybe, but mike can't figure out why.
he's just grateful for a chance to spend time alone with you.
“coffee would be great, actually.”
you and mike end up in the kitchen of the small cafeteria, each drinking your respective drinks in silence, until you speak.
“um, i hope i’m not overstepping.” mikes ears perk up because that’s never a good start. “but abby told me that you have a crush on me. is that true?”
fucking abby.
his ears redden immediately, head dropping as he considers how to play this. but before he can even decide, you’re speaking again.
“because if so, i just want to let you know that i feel the same.”
he lifts his head too quick, a little bit of his coffee spilling out of the loaned mug with the movement. he doesn’t care about that, though, at least not immediately. instead, he focuses on you. he searches your face for a joking smile, maybe a little bit of mischief in your eyes. but there’s nothing but honesty in them.
he takes the plunge.
“would you wanna do something … sometime?” not very descriptive but you smile at him anyway.
“i would love to.”
god bless abby.
#he’s so cutesy#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt#fnaf movie
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"Head Empty" - Gojo Satoru
3,043 words.
warnings. nsfw (18+), satoru is your tutor, resolved sexual tension, semi-public sex, he fingers you so you could focus on your studying, sex depr!ved reader, oral (under the table), he eats you out again, library setting, unprotected sex, praising, creampie, fucking you against the library shelves.
notes. i'm literally dripping like a waterfall as I write this. ugh I wish gojo was my tutor, I'd pass all my exams to make sure I receive that good dicking as a reward when I get an A++++.
art used is by @/yunonoai!
The days would only and inevitably count-down until the start of your finals week. You realised you were too much of a procrastinator - someone or something had to tell you to get your shit together to start studying, or at least to receive that ounce of motivation.
You knew who to call for that. A high grade achiever, ladies man, and the college's example of an ideal student. Gojo Satoru. Oh, and boy was he fine. Maybe, getting a little too fine.
You were majoring in law and history, and fuck, was it doing your head in. Luckily, your classmate Satoru offered some help - free of charge. Knowing you were in a sticky situation, of course you accepted the offer. I mean, who wouldn't? Tutoring from the smartest guy in your year is like learning a ground-breaking ability from a top class sorcerer.
Although, you were starting to regret it at some point.
Being with Satoru in the library - almost all day, every day of the week. Your thoughts were clouded with him. Filthy, or pure, the scenarios were endless.
Chin on your palm, eyes dazed into his own. Head empty. You would find yourself staring at his lips for too long, just to be able to hear him scold you playfully for not paying attention. But then having regret when you had to review the same day's topic for the third time cause you just wouldn't listen.
Nothing he taught you would go into that little brain of yours. Not one bit.
You wondered if he was a different type of smart. Intelligent enough to notice how you'd stamp your thighs together after thinking such vulgar thoughts. Like him bending you over the library's table, then and there, just pounding into you in front of ev-
..A slender hand waves in front of your face. "Hey, are you listening?" your train of thought had come to an end as his voice broke you out of your trance.
Your eyes widen, turning to the white haired man beside you. "..Yeah, of course I am." you quickly pull away your chin off your palm, picking your pen up just to stare blankly at the case study in front of you.
He groans, over the fact that this is a recurring thing every time the two of you study. "Then tell me," he continued, "What was I talking about?"
Your eyes flicker into an eyeroll in defeat, and Satoru just grins. Unfortunately you were unable to catch that.
"..Alright," He gently sighed. "Let's just do some quick drilling questions to get you more warmed up."
You stay quiet, mentally slapping yourself before you think; how does he even put up with me.
You fiddle with your biro as you watch his every move. The filthy thoughts come flooding in again as you watched his fingers turn the pages, and you just imagine that the pages were your fo-
"So, tell me. What was the inqu!s!t!on during the Reformation?" Satoru's lips pursed together in hopes of a correct answer from you.
"..That's easy. It was a court..” Developing your answer, your heart thumped as you awaited a 'correct' or 'wrong' result from Satoru. Why were you nervous anyways..? Were you.. seeking validation from him?
He smiled as you gave him the answer, which was in fact, correct. "Good girl," Satoru put a small tick beside the question to note you had it correct. "I knew you had it in you."
You just smile back, no verbal response. His praise towards you immediately had your legs clamped together like always, making you move around in your chair. Fiddling with the fabric of your mini skirt that you just put on for him to see your bare legs.
Satoru goes off on a tangent about another topic in relation to the reformation, and so forth. The words coming out of his mouth just ran straight through your ears, and to some trash can in the library. The thought of him praising you as you please him kept replaying in your head like a broken record player.
Feet tapping out of nervousness underneath the table, your poor biro was so chewed to the point it didn't look like a pen anymore.
A slam of a book was heard on your left, and it was Satoru. Luckily a few people have left the library, so the only person left was someone on the far end of the table, with their headphones on too.
The tapping of your foot had long ended, as you were faced with a distressed Gojo. His hand remained on the cover of the textbook.
"Okay, I know this is hard. You accepted my offer to tutor you, but if you wanted to study on your own that's fine with me." You weren't sure if he hated you, or was just fed up, but no response came out of your mouth.
His hand leaves the cover, and instead his whole body turns to you on the chair. "It always seems like- you're distracted. You're barely listening to me 70% of the time, could you tell me why?" Oh God, if only he knew why.
You lied, hoping you could get away with it. "I'm just tired. Finals week coming up just has me stressed, so I can't sleep." You mutter under your breath, but the library was quiet enough for Satoru to hear it perfectly fine.
"I don't think that's the issue." He slightly leans in closer to your face to whisper sternly. "You act like I don't see you biting your lip, squeezing your legs together or fiddling with the ends of that tiny skirt of yours every time you look at me."
You could've sworn that your throat went dry as your skirt hypothesis was proven true. "..I swear.. I'm not lying."
Satoru pinches his nose bridge in denial. "Look, I doubt that you would want to fail your finals because you were horny the whole time you were being tutored."
I honestly hope there's something playing in that persons headphones.
The two of you take a few breaths to recollect yourselves, until Satoru quietly speaks again.
"How about, we just ease back into reviewing the same material. Just please, give me your undivided attention. Just for now."
With Satoru knowing your dirty little secrets, there's no hiding now. You had no choice but to oblige. "Yeah okay. I'm all ears."
He opens the textbook again, returning to the same chapter. This time he goes on about the results of the reformation.
But something was different.
His warm hand rested on your bare thigh, almost under your skirt. Dangerously creeping into your inner leg, to the point that his pinky finger could graze against your underwear if he wanted to. Your feet tapping also managed to stop. This was enough to form a pool between your legs.
He paused his reading for a moment to turn to you. "Are you alright with my hand there? I mean, this is the only way I could get you to listen." Satoru caressed the soft flesh of your leg with his thumb. All you were able to do was nod, like an obeying puppy. "..Just, follow along with your textbook like a good girl."
Satoru's fingers brushed against your cotton underwear. He whispered under his breath, "You're so needy, aren't you huh?" Your hand swiftly held onto his wrist out of nervousness, his index finger toying with your panties to move them to the side.
"Just relax, and give me a summary of what you had just learnt."
You coughed, clearing your throat. "W-well, I believe it was for a good cause.. and..." Your breath suddenly hitched, stopping you mid-sentence. You felt Satoru's fingers slide between your folds, only slightly pushing his middle finger into your dripping hole.
Words couldn't describe how embarrassed you felt about the fact you and your panties were absolutely soaked.
Faint squelching noises were heard as he slowly fucked at this rate, two fingers into you under the table. Your words caught up in your throat one after the other, "..And.. attitudes to trade.."
You stopped talking, and your hand rested against your forehead as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you. The way you were squirming about in your chair, and the fact that your slick was fully coating his fingers had Satoru's cock straining against his pants.
"That's it.. you're 100% correct. Keep going." The curling of his middle and ring finger picked up its pace, his thumb now lazily rubbing circles on your clit.
You pulled away your forehead from your hand, moving to place it back against his own arm. "Satoru..I can't.. you're gonna.. make me cum.." You swallowed your spit to suppress a moan.
As soon as you said that, he pulled his fingers out. You could almost whimper out loud at the sudden emptiness in your hole, and that he denied you from getting off on his fingers.
"..What the fuck, Satoru?" You whispered angrily, a grin curling up on his face.
You watched as he wrapped his mouth around his fingers, sucking your juices off them before looking around the library. He pulls out a few papers from his backpack, which was another question and answer activity sheet.
"Do these for me, and by the time I'm back it better be finished, and I expect it to all be answered correctly." He slid the sheet to your side, before glancing around the library again.
Confused, you questioned him. "..Where are you off to?"
You could only see another smirk form on his face before he went underneath the table, disappearing off to somewhere. Oh no. You cautiously looked around your surroundings too. Still that one same person from earlier sitting at the end of the table.
A yelp escapes your mouth little too loudly as you felt him tickling the sides of your thighs with his hands, a creaking noise ringing throughout the library as he dragged your chair closer to the table and to him. Luckily no one regarded that.
Trying not to be obvious, you carried on with your work, making an attempt at the questions.
You could still feel him moving about underneath the table, his hands taking a hold under your thigh, placing both above each of his shoulders.
A playful giggle came out of your mouth as his soft hair tickled your legs, your hand sliding down his arm as they made their way behind you on the chair, cupping the back of your ass. His head now underneath your skirt, his pointer fingers going back under as well to tug on your panties, pulling them off and down your legs.
A wet kiss was immediately planted on your bare pussy, your legs jittering about on his shoulders at the ticklish feeling.
Another creak of the chairs legs against the floor was made as Satoru moved you closer to the edge of the chair to have full access to your pussy.
At one point, your thighs almost locked around his head as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, and as he sucked on it with his lips before using his tongue to fuck your hole.
The writing on the activity sheet turned in to squiggles, now illegible. Your fingers instead twisted the corner of the paper, ruining the quality all together as it became wrinkly.
Your mouth formed an 'O' shape as you felt him fucking you with his fingers, and lapping at your clit at the same time. You had only covered your mouth with your fist to mask it as a yawn.
Meanwhile your other hand repeatedly tapped on his sculpted shoulder, letting him know you were about to cum. And if he didn't move, there'd be a mess all over the library hard-flooring.
The coil in your stomach had finally snap, your silent orgasm washing over you as Satoru lapped at your juices underneath, making sure not to miss a drop.
Satoru's face so messy and wet, it dripped down his chin as he sucked on your clit one last time for good luck.
You felt Satoru gently grab your thighs, placing them back down on the ground and off his shoulders. You honestly felt like you were gloop, your legs felt as if they were made of dough and unable to stand up on their own.
He crawled back up onto his chair, I don't know how the person on the other end of the table didn't suspect anything like at all. Maybe they're just acting dumb or perhaps just genuinely focused on their work.
You slightly looked down underneath the table, seeing your poor underwear left on the cold ground. I'll.. get that later.
"So, did you finish the sheet?" Satoru glanced over to the sheet, wiping and licking around his lips for any excess on his face.
He almost chuckled out loud as he saw the squiggly lines all over the answer boxes. "I'll take that as a no."
You roll your eyes, unamused. "I couldn't focus."
"Really? Well, that beats the purpose of me trying to help you less than thirty seconds ago." Satoru teases, turning around to the book aisles around him. "Ah- think we need to get a certain book. Come with me."
The two of you immediately knew what that meant, and at the speed of light you both got up from your chairs. The textbooks, bags and stationary were just left on the study tables. You remembered to tug on your skirt to make sure your ass wasn't on show before getting up.
Both you and Satoru scurried away into a book aisle deeper into the library, far away from where everyone was studying. Luckily the library was quiet today, and there are literally no cameras here. You always wondered why, but at this moment there was no way in hell you were complaining.
Reaching the 'Ecology' aisle, which was completely irrelevant to what both of you were studying, the two of you jokingly went separately on each side of the shelf, your eyes watching each other like a hawk through the gaps between the books.
Your heart was about to leap out of your chest as you got closer to the other end of the entire shelf. The last step, and Satoru comes jumping at you, pushing you against the entire shelf and started sloppily kissing each other. Almost like you both were yearning for this.
A whimper and grunt came from yours and Satoru's lips as you both melted into each other, a string of saliva connected your tongues as soon as he pulled away.
Your hand quickly snaked down to the waistband of his pants as he planted hot, wet kisses down your neck making you both giggle.
You just couldn’t believe this was happening right now. His heavy cock hanging and pre-cum leaking from the tip as you pulled it out from his pants. Picking you up, Satoru's hands cupped beneath your bare ass as your legs wrapped around his waist.
His weight fully pressed you back against the shelf, to be able to use his free hand to align his tip with your hole before slowly sliding in. You let out a gasp, you imagined him to be big but not so big in girth, as well as length. His cock stretched you out enough that it will probably remember his shape, and only his.
A long grunt came from his mouth as he felt you sink down on him, sliding in and out slowly - allowing you to adjust before immediately rutting into you at an inhumane pace, the shelves slightly shaking from how hard he was drilling into you.
Satoru's hands now had full support on your legs behind your knees, an 'Ecology 101' book falling off the shelf behind you as you moaned his name into his ear like it was a prayer, only to result in him panting against your neck.
"You drive me crazy," Satoru moans out, sounding feral as he panted between each sentence. "Got me pounding into you against the shelves at this library?" The two of you fucked like rabbits. His lips couldn't last ten seconds without yours.
Your ass would ripple each time he deeped into you, noises of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the library.
At one point, he thrusted deep enough to hit your sweet spots that you moaned a bit too loud. The two of you just bursted into a small giggle as he placed his palm over your mouth.
Another book, "All about Aquatic Ecology" falls off the shelf behind you. You wonder how someone hasn't check on you two yet, thinking the falling books were a sign of paranormal activity. I mean, you guys chose the shelves far away from people for a reason.
"F-Fuck, Satoru- I'm gonna.." Beads of sweat were starting to form on your forehead from how hard he was fucking your brains out, you were bound to cry, but you felt him place more kisses against your jaw. "Too fast.. Satoru-"
"I know baby, tell me," Satoru whispered, his thrusts getting slow and staggered. "What is it, you gonna cum?"
Your hands moved from behind his neck to clutching onto the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders. "..Please... let me cum.." Your head fell back against the wooden panel of the shelf. "And your cum.. I want it in me."
You felt Satoru give you one last deep thrust into your pussy, bottoming into you as he let out his thick load into your hole non stop, some of it leaking out and dripping down his cock.
The two of you moaned as quietly as you can as your orgasms washed over the both you, Satoru resting his forehead against your chest, his balls throbbing as his cum pumped into you continuously.
His arms still underneath your legs, Satoru slowly slid his cock out before grunting at the cum that dripped and leaked out of you, onto the library floor. What a mess.
He planted another kiss on your lips before gently placing your legs back down onto the ground, holding your hand for support.
"Fuck, Satoru. You literally blew my back out."
You could feel his warm cum slowly trickle down your inner leg, regretting the fact that you said you'll pick up your panties later on.
Satoru slapped your ass, grabbing a handful afterwards. "Think we'll need to start tutoring back at your place."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x you#jjk gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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