#i have one friend that i only see on the weekends. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saiidahyunie · 3 days

Text

chasing that feeling

f1 racer!park jihyo x f!reader

synopsis: jihyo’s on the backend of the competition, and you’re being vocal with your frustrations in one of the few crucial weekends of the season.

tw: smut! ; degrading (kinda) ; praise ; bottom!zyo!! *huh jihyo as a bottom??* ; cursing

btw! this is a prequel/prologue to "pole position"

park jihyo absolutely hates losing. to her, it’s basically the equivalent of not being able to breathe.

it’s embedded in her dna: to keep moving constantly until she physically can’t anymore.

ever since she went to japan with her family as a little kid, stumbling onto the suzuka racetrack as a mere spectator. from that moment on, the thrill of speed and the rush of everything about racing swallowed her up whole.

winning was everything to her, a hard-fought victory that only proved that she was better than everyone else, anything less than that result only made her hungry to bounce back even stronger.

“whatever it takes, you’ve got to see it through.” her team principal sejong tells her after the race weekend at azerbaijan where she had to end the race early after a mechanical problem in her car forced her to retire from the race early. it felt weird for her to not be on the track and on the paddock watching her teammate tzuyu play damage control on the screen replay, faltering behind the other two championship contenders momo and sana in heartbreaking fashion.

she turns over to you standing a few feet behind the decrepit race car, headphones around your neck while jeongyeon and nayeon in tow, giving a wave of encouragement while you gave your girlfriend a heartfelt smile.

after she did all of the usual team debriefings and press responsibilities, she walks out from the back of the garage to meet you, giving a chaste kiss to her cheek and a comforting hug after what had unfolded about an hour and a half ago.

“i’m so sorry baby,” you say, nose in her hair filling up that one sense, “sucks that it had to happen to you like this.”

jihyo pulls away, shaking her head in disagreement, “no need to be sorry. i just got a little bit of unlucky coming my way that’s all.” she says, reassuring with a smile with that sweaty face making you want to pass out on the spot in front of her.

things were gonna be fine in the long run. after all, this was a speed bump on one unfortunate race.

—

jihyo doesn’t usually have strokes of bad luck, and when it happens in back to back weekends, she’s convinced that there’s something fishy going on. there’s this saying that lightning can strike in a bottle twice, but when there’s a third time–

“you alright?” jihyo’s engineer keji asks through the radio, head spinning after crashing out in the barcelona grand prix leading the race up until her brakes locked up at the last sequence of corners on the second to last lap.

“yeah—“ she groans out trying to fight the lingering effects of whiplash she just got hit by, “fuck- i’m sorry, guys. i’m out.”

–her smoking car was a frightening sight to see, mangled into the tire barriers and the pit crew members in front of you were also in shock to watch their racer not finish the race for the fourth consecutive race in a row.

you could see her little helmet shake back and forth in the cockpit in frustration, punching the steering wheel before putting her hands in her face once the realization had slipped in. the camera then pans back to the track where it showed both sana and momo battle it out for the race win, weaving that same section of corners until the main straight where momo had just edged out of sana, taking the grand prix win away as well as the full points.

once the celebrations had gone underway, jihyo didn’t even think about sticking around for her good racing friends, the fact that she’s falling behind in the standings was enough for her to not even look up at the falling champagne and booming music filling her ears. back at the garage, she sees tzuyu standing by her car, walking over to give her an encouraging hug before she steps inside more, locking eyes with you, nayeon, and jeongyeon.

“you think she’s gonna be okay?” jeongyeon whispers in your ear when jihyo is approached by her race engineer, breaking the distant face-off. “this must be really brutal on her, and i’m speaking as a close friend and manager.”

“i think you should have her not look on social media when you two get back at the hotel,” nayeon chirps in, “the fans are gonna absolutely belt her for her recent performances.”

“it’s not even the fact that these things are happening to her,” you say, scowling at the double -yeons behind you. “i think she’s getting a little bit complacent.”

nayeon quirks her brown when you turn around to start making your way out of the paddock, “huh? what do you mean by that?” she asks, picking up your headset and radio in the locker before trailing even more, “hey! i asked a question!”

—

you are one hell of an oversharer.

but hey, jeongyeon was the one who set you up with the park jihyo at last season’s race in abu dhabi, her third year of racing f1 in the books and your last year in f2. it started off as a friendly approach, realizing you and her had the same amount of interests: germaphobes around the house, outrageous activities such as hockey and a few other sports besides racing, watching movies or tv series during off days, and having a really high alcohol tolerance.

once paths crossed, you and jihyo hit it right off the mark. the whole f1 community across all boards took the dating news in a positive regard broke through a candid picture of you two wearing baseball caps backwards on a daytime stroll around germany. jihyo loved your sense of charisma when the cameras were on you during your time with sm vantage - the developmental team under jyp racing during your last stint in the f2 scene.

as for you, how could you not fall in love with jihyo? she’s quick, intelligent, ambitious, always wanting to improve more race after race, year after year. you liked that she’s competitive. her lifestyle was lavish with the cars, planes, clothing but at the same time it was normal, she didn’t bat an eye of her overwhelming success, she knows she’s good, and she has the skill to back that up. the brand deals, the crowd roaring her name when she crosses the line, and that splash of champagne when she’s celebrating her win–

“why the fuck are you showing us this in public!?” nayeon exclaims, hushed by jeongyeon next to her with a flick to the forehead. “what the hell was that for?!”

“because you don’t know how to keep it down!” jeongyeon answers, “it’s just jihyo in the covers with y/n putting on a sweater on the right side of the picture.” she says, and you’re rubbing your forehead at the fact of how gullible nayeon is with things like these. “so? what if you and jihyo have been getting cozy and hooking up more frequently, how is it a bad thing?”

“i’ve been too nice with the reward, and clearly it’s getting to her.”

“you mean.”

“she isn’t focused.”

“and who's fault is that?” nayeon asks abruptly, rolling your eyes, “all of the pictures i’ve seen from the past races either have you two in it or something else.”

“nay, i know.” you tell her, “that’s the problem. you could say i’m one for being horny and all, but she is too.”

the three of you look down at the ground level from the racing team’s designated vip area, you see sejong walk with jihyo and tzuyu, discussing the debrief that they had with the team as well as the conventional heart to heart talk with both drivers. it’s midway into the season, so the points to the team count from here on out, especially in the drivers and constructors championship.

“jeong, when’s the next race again?”

“monaco.”

“shit.”

“what’s wrong with that race?” nayeon inquires yet again, clueless but primed for the reminder.

“it’s one of the two most challenging races of the season. i could delve a whole lot more into it but you’d probably be bored after the first two words that come out of my mouth anyway.”

“you’re right, y/n. but why do i feel scared about it?”

you and jeongyeon share a look from across the table, realizing that this next race weekend was vital for jihyo’s chances of staying within sana and momo’s tail in the driver's standings.

—

race weeks were always something to look forward to. there’s this sparkle of magic buzzing the air every time, traveling to different corners of the world to compete by driving.

there’s nothing like it.

the luxury of being rich, people with deep pockets wearing vip tickets trying to get a peek of the car in the paddock. the superstars that come out to see the peak of motorsport racing, because who doesn’t like cars? coverage, exposure, and upscale is the name of the game in some of these parts. but there’s no denying how beautiful some of the places across the globe are that you have the fortunate opportunity to be alongside jihyo for it.

even when you feel the breeze of the sea flowing through the boat, occasionally bouncing along the wavy surface to the point you might just fly off the seat, letting your laugh be the substitute of the small pit forming in your stomach, before touching back down with the splash of water hitting.

“ji! easy with the freaking boat will ya?!” jeongyeon exclaims, while on top of a face-flat nayeon frantically hitting the pad of the seat to signify that she can’t breathe with the amount of sudden weight on her back. you prop your feet up on the small table in between, hand over the railing like this was a huge accomplishment of winning at life, which it was, sunglasses and everything when you turn to see jihyo at the wheel.

“how long until we reach the bay?” you ask jihyo, her teal v-neck polo with the sleeves rolled up making it much more appealing to look at, the subtle flex of muscle across her forearm when she swings the wheel with one hand seamlessly, sending the boat portside near the coastline of the lovely city of monaco. “we were supposed to be back there ten minutes ago!”

“what are they gonna do, penalize me?” jihyo yells over, “it’s not my fault they put your cousin’s boat on the opposite end of the port or we would’ve been over there already!”

“is tzuyu waiting for us?”

“she’s been waiting over there with nai for thirty minutes.”

eventually, jihyo does make it back to the proper port, greeted by her teammate tzuyu and her race engineer, nai waving to you and the other two-yeons before the boat stops right at the deck. jihyo was the last person to get out, looking up to see you waiting, with an outreaching hand for her to take while you held her favorite tiny north-face backpack that she carries around with her when traveling.

there’s a brief period of silence when you get to the buildings exiting the nearby streets. it’s pretty busy, most of the track was already in place and there were some last minute preparations of the surrounding stands. the hotel was just a couple minutes away, turning to jihyo who was staring out to the endless horizon of the sea and sky. “everything okay?”

jihyo looks back, wide-eyed and blinking. “yeah,” she breathes, tone unsure, “i’m okay.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, brows slightly furrowed together. her answer wasn’t convincing enough, and it’s rare for her to act like this in front of you, which could only spell a sudden wave of anxiety building up. jihyo was headstrong, always thinking about the positives, but she has been feeling a bit uneasy with the amount of criticism that she’s been receiving recently in the media for her recent performances.

“hey,” you call over, pulling her in for a sudden hug that she reciprocates easily, open and inviting. “i know that we had a small disagreement before flying over here, but just remember that i still love you, okay?”

jihyo’s hands are palming your face, your hands around her hips, the small tender moment of reconciliation firmly set in stone. nodding in agreement that you simply stressed about having her succeed even when there were tough times like this, so she doesn’t say anything.

“you’re not gonna go quiet on me, are you?” you ask her again, sliding an arm across her shoulder while you two walked to the nearby accessible street to see a bright orange and black car; jihyo’s favorite rx-7.

she was left surprised to see that you pulled some strings behind her back to have one of her cars brought over here for a couple days, even though this will probably be the only time she’ll actually use it until the summer break, but the effort to cheer her up was there, and you see her smiling.

“why did you–”

“because you’ve been staring at the pictures of your car on the plane before you passed out on me, idiot.”

“i hate you.”

“no you don’t.” you dart back, “you absolutely love me.”

jihyo smirks, opening the passenger side first to the car, “alright, get in.”

—

the trip to the hotel you were staying at was a quick one. everywhere you looked was plastered with racing banners and people on the balconies just taking in the view that will be seeing speeding cars in the next few days or so. you look over to see jihyo lost in thought, tilting her chin up just so that she could see the rear view mirror better, a cute habit of hers really.

once the valet took the car in, jeongyeon was already at the front of the revolving door greeting with a smile. “took you guys long enough, i managed to get everyone’s rooms situated for the weekend.”

“great!” you say to her, “traffic was a small pain to deal with getting here.”

“you weren’t even the one driving.” jihyo chimes in, bumping her elbow to you while rolling her eyes. “what about our bag situation?”

“already sorted out. you’re welcome.”

jihyo nods, darting her eyes towards the hotel lobby past the door as jeongyeon took the lead heading inside. it felt grand, with the marble structure from the flooring to the ceiling, the chandeliers overhanging with small lounge areas spread across and a restaurant off to the right side when walking in. no shortage of guests as they crowded the line at the front desk trying to get their reservations confirmed and into their rooms.

even when jihyo was out in public, she didn’t really make the effort to hide her appearance since at the end of the day, she’s just a regular person over an f1 driver. passing through the main foyer, some people did take notice that she was staying at this hotel, so when one person notices, there’s a small following afterwards.

jihyo was quick to get some autographs on different items; a shirt, a hat, a few tumblers, even a full fledged poster that someone had on hand for some apparent reason, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. jeongyeon being jeongyeon, naturally took charge by standing in front of jihyo, hands up to the sides giving a proper amount of space until the assigned security detail swooped in for extra support.

you three manage to break away from the sizable crowd in the lobby, jihyo fulfilling those last couple of autographs before reaching near the elevators. before you could even get to the waiting area, you get called over by a few journalists that were actually trying to get to jihyo through jeongyeon’s attention. interrupting the racer’s private time wasn’t substantial to these media outlets, but a simple flick or question was good enough to get a story going.

luckily, you had to do half of that work when you answered to one of the journalist’s calls on behalf of your girlfriend.

“hello y/n!” the reporter briefly greets you with a phone in their hand, automatically inferring that they’re doing a voice recording of their exchange with you. it would’ve been a lot more simpler if this was in a designated area and window for these interviews, but nothing ever really goes to plan in life, not even formula one. “i just had a quick moment to ask a question for jihyo, if you don’t mind answering of course.”

“i’d be happy to hear what you’ve got for me to answer with.” you reply optimistically, “let me hear ‘em.”

“the monaco grand prix is one of the greatest trials in any given scenario for a driver, do you see jihyo bouncing back with a win here to get back on track for the running of the championship?”

“ah, well–”

“given her recent performances, would you say that she’s letting herself loose and complacent?” another reporter of the same media outlet asks behind the initial reporter in front of you.

“as one of the closest people in her circle,” you start the answer with a clutch of your arm, “the best that i can do is to ensure that she has the right amount of support from all parties to maximize her ability to compete and win.”

“will the jyp racing team do anything different to—”

“alright!” the arm of jeongyeon butts in between you and the reporter, breaking the conversation suddenly. “i would greatly appreciate it if you could direct any questions towards jihyo to me instead. please respect the driver and their loved ones privacy with the utmost consideration please and thank you.” she announces to the small horde of camera flashes and phones in the air wanting to get an inkling of information out of you for jihyo. jeongyeon turns her head and nods over to the open elevator door at the end, a security guard holding it for you specifically, so you breeze over to see jihyo leaning against the side railing of the elevator before the door closes behind you and ascends up.

jihyo scratches her head before sighing out in a sign of tiredness, closing her eyes at the end. “so, what did they say about me this time?”

“nothing out of the ordinary.” you reply. “they’re still on about your sudden slump from the past few races, but i didn’t give them any more than your current struggles.”

jihyo then runs her hand down her face in a slight bit of frustration, she feels the immense pressure of not being able to deliver for the team and herself as a driver, it’s clearly shown that it’s taking a toll on her, and something has to change this upcoming race weekend before everything starts to take a turn for the worse. “this sucks,” she says now looking up to the ceiling, “this is the worst run of luck i’ve ever had in my career.”

standing on the opposite end, you make your way across to her, clutching her left shoulder while your other hand is placed flat on the wall. the elevator space feels full, despite being small with the close proximity.

“why don’t you tell me directly why you’ve been performing badly, hmm?” you ask jihyo, face being dangerously close to the point where jihyo could feel the heat from her cheeks rise up to fill the air. “it’s definitely not your skill set, nor the car, or the team, is it?”

“y/n, what are you say—”

“you’ve been taking our fucking a little more lightly these past few races, almost comfortable with the luxury that you’re guaranteed to ruin me.”

jihyo stares into your eyes, the look of worry wrenching it’s way through while you smirk victoriously, realizing that the prior disagreement from before was still the apparent case.

"so that’s what it is then.”

you don’t even give jihyo the chance to even argue, because it’s true.

“what the fuck are you even saying?!” jihyo asks, faltering behind in the hallway to the hotel room and into the suite. you don’t even reply to the initial question jihyo asked because you know how you like her when she gets the slightest bit of frustration in her tone. “i swear it’s not that, but—”

“you say that, but do you hear yourself right now?” you snicker, “it’s hilarious how you’re trying to reason with me but the fact still stands: you just want to get between my legs after every race since we started.”

“yes, and—”

“no.”

“no?”

“i mean, the public doesn’t know how sexually charged you are, but i can see that it’s affecting you right in front of me.” you tell jihyo, discarding your shirt with your bra following the ground as well, pushing jihyo to the bed where she falls flat on her back, you can hear her breath hitch with the neural overload she’s having from her eyes and the touch. jihyo naturally lets a hand float up, but you’re quick to slap her hand away before pinning it on the mattress.

“you can watch, but you can’t touch.” you sigh against her ear, “the only you can get me back is by—” jihyo lets her eyes flutter shut but automatically shoots open when you rise up from on top of her, jihyo confused as she propped herself up on her elbows to see you walking to the bathroom while tying your hair up.

“y/n, what are you—”

“if you want me to return the favor, i better see you on that podium at the end of race day.” you tell her, it’s not an offer, a command, because she’ll do it, jihyo will always deliver if something is put on the line. “not from third or second, i want to see you win from first.”

a lump forms in jihyo’s throat, sucking in the saliva from her mouth when she’s eyeing the subtle back tattoo on your shoulder blade, as well as the hidden design of small stars behind your right ear on your neck. jihyo knows what she needs to do, she has a reason to win.

whatever it takes, i’ve got to see it through. jihyo thinks to herself.

she can feel the desire to win on the tips of her fingers.

—

two days pass of free practice and it’s pretty much a blur for jihyo. the standard routine of going over the briefing and the set strategy set with the team, coming to grips with the car and the new upgrades that come with it. you’re watching on the screen as she seems to have reverted back to her normal self. she’s hitting all of the corners and turns with the fine precision that she can produce, and monaco is no easy track to race on.

once the three practice sessions were done, you’re deep in the paddock while the pit crew rolls the car back in, jihyo taking off her gloves and getting out of the car before pulling her balaclava off her face, already giving her opinion with how the car felt and everything in between. she sees you and jeongyeon in the distance, nodding before leaving the garage to get more necessary checks before the debrief.

jeongyeon pulls her headset off from her ears, “i suppose you did something about her little ‘issue’?” she asks, prompting you to follow her to the back entrance and into the restricted area behind.

“yeah,” you answer dismissively, “and what about it?”

“nothing,” jeongyeon follows, “she just seems a bit more focused now than before.”

“maybe i did.”

“oh have you, now?”

—

qualifying was the day after, and jihyo managed to get adequate hours of sleep before the wave of nervousness could settle in her body again. she got up early in the morning while you were knocked out, conjuring up a quick cup of coffee with the items provided from the hotel’s set hospitality package on the table next to the tv. stepping out to the balcony, she oversees the bustling atmosphere below at ground level.

her mind was calm, and she felt excited for another outing on the race track in the next few hours. there was no rush, but taking it easy didn’t feel much of a bad thing. she needed this, and before jihyo knew it, she turned around to see you already up on the bed.

morning preparation before the race went a little bit smoothly. drivers didn’t have to show up for another hour and a half, so jihyo took her sweet time in getting ready, not opting to shower until you went in first before her, so you did. while that was happening, jihyo hears her phone go off on the coffee table, picking it up to see that jeongyeon’s name came up on the screen. without a second thought, she picks up the phone, “hey jeong, what’s up?”

“is my racer ready for today’s quali session?” she asks through the speaker that makes jihyo chuckle when she plops on the couch, bunching up her legs on the cushion against the armrest.

“yes, i’m feeling pretty good about today. why’d you call?”

“just checking in on you.” jeongyeon answers, “you were pretty down in the dumps before the FP sessions so i didn’t want to assume that something was up? there isn’t, right?”

“no,” jihyo stops jeongyeon. “whatever it is that you’re thinking, it’s not the case.” she says. while that was happening, you walk out in a simple white tank-top with black underwear that exposed your toned body towards her, earning a puzzled look from jihyo to see that you left your pair of pants on the edge of the bed. “i know you’re not calling me just to do a checkup, did something else happen that i should know about?”

“is that jeong on the phone?” you interrupt with a lowered tone, noticing that jihyo was on speaker before she gave a simple look that makes you nod in realization.

“jeong,” jihyo begins again, “did you mess with the press behind my back?”

“i didn’t. but they kept pressing me about your poor performances so it was a bit difficult to deal with.” jeongyeon replies with disinterest to the question, “god, i hate journalists with a passion sometimes.”

“me too,” jihyo adds, “i just want to race, but i can’t help with the headaches i get when they ask me stupid questions about the simplest things”

you walk over to jihyo, leaning down to meet her lips when she looks up from the couch, a bit surprised from the sudden action and contact of your lips, closing one eye with a smirk while jihyo pulls the phone away from her face more. “what are y–”

jihyo then hears some background noise on jeongyeon’s end of the call, giving an indication that she’s near the track with the team, most likely with tzuyu who wanted to be ahead in the scheduling. “how busy is it down there?”

“very. typical monaco for a race weekend. nothing more or less to expect.” jenogyeon’s voice is drowned out by more voices. “when are you making your way down to the garage?”

your hands suddenly slide up jihyo’s cropped undershirt, causing her breath to hitch from the roughness of fingers skating along her fair skin, stopping just underneath the breasts to cup them, leaning for another kiss to put another push.

“i’ll be there in an hour,” jihyo answers, seeing that you’re trailing your way down to the edge of the seat, bringing her legs down from their folded position and slightly apart, “give or take thirty or so minutes.” her mind starts to wander with the feeling of her breasts on your hands, kissing her inner thigh close to the knee before trailing up.

“wasn’t sejong supposed to call you for a minute? i overheard something before you two got set up for fp3?” the questions keep on coming from jeongyeon, and jihyo is wondering if she’s also one of the annoying reporters asking the stupid questions.

“yeah,” jihyo’s breath catches when she feels your hands slide off her red shorts before she sees the garment tossed away to the bed, the warm air hot against the line of her thigh. “i had talked to her beforehand, just a short heart-to-heart like she always does with us before races.” she huffs out when you skate your thumb lightly on her clit sealing your mouth off to the side of her soaked slit.

“shit, am i supposed to go now?” jeongyeon asks again, and jihyo can’t think straight the second after she switched her phone to speaker, phone cast aside next to her, “i was supposed to meet up with tzuyu, but she’s already here ahead of you, which means that she’s eager to get going.”

“uh-huh,” jihyo says, letting a half-moan spill out accidentally but not audible enough for jeongyeon to hear through the phone. she picks up her tossed device, hoping to keep her mind off of you lashing your tongue against her cunt, savoring that leak slick some more when jihyo has her hand on the back of your head. “it’s because of the data that they collected the other day from practice, and the adjustment of the car they did with her rear wing.”

jihyo’s fingers grasp deeply against your scalp, her head falling back against the couch, mouth hanging low and breath getting heavier as you insert a finger inside that makes her eyes roll upwards. she’s supposed to be focused on the race, but how could she focus when you’re sucking the very life out of her on the morning of qualifying day?

“well, you better get here in the next hour. more drivers are coming in by the minute. momo!” jeongyeon says clearly into the phone now, “i’ll get going now, see you down in the garage.” and hangs up the second after.

jihyo looks down to the sight of you locking eyes with her, hungry with want, need, hunger, everything that’s within the margins of the word ‘craving, lapping up her slutty cunt as you please when you hear the overdue soundtrack of her hushed out moans finally being let out.

“fuck,” she groans out. “seriously, fuck you.”

you pull away, licking your upper lip before breaking a smile. contemplating on saying something to her that can ease jihyo’s mind of the image of you between her legs like this, but-

“you’re so cute,” you coo. “trying to stay professional with your manager while i’m fucking you this early?”

–jihyo’s gonna curse you for putting on this act, but the motivation is clearly there for her after last night’s conversation.

“mine, mine, mine, all mine.” you tell her, breath hot against her pussy and jihyo tries to say something coherent, but it’s all slurred and sloppy just when your tongue is swirling inside her core again.

“whatever, okay-uh-shit, you’re so fucking good at that.” and you’re grinding her cunt against your mouth, the room filling up with all of the bits of whining, gasping pleas the more you soak your face into her.

jihyo guides your free hand from the crease of her hip up to her breast, grasping it for dear life when she hitches the ball of her foot on top of your collarbone. “my–fuck, babe, just like that, you’re gonna fucking kill me like this.”

she’s jerking her hips against the sensation, the swipe of your tongue all over the molten heat of her pussy and the shoving of your two fingers right under your mouth, curling a finger to that spot that made her see the light for a split second before being brought back to earth.

“y/n, my god, you–”

the increase of moans only get louder when jihyo’s legs press your head, enveloping you like it’s the only oxygen needed in your life, and in a way, it is. right when jihyo’s eyes roll back into her head, the abrupt sound of her phone rings, and the movement comes to a solid stillness.

jihyo is immediately flushed when she pulls her head back from euphoria, the satiating ache of your mouth the only thing in her mind when you take your fingers out of her, hiding your bottom lip while your tongue licks off the rest. “you gonna answer that?”

as if it was a cardinal sin that you just committed, jihyo digs her head back into the cushions, closing her legs when you stand up and go on with your morning, successfully taking advantage of jihyo when she least expected it.

“you’re the worst.” she tells you, the sight of slipping into your pants for the day before looking back at her on the couch sitting up now. “i can’t believe-”

the phone is still ringing, and jihyo looks over to see sejong’s contact name on the screen. she won’t answer, it’s pointless since it’ll be the same stuff that she was told the other day.

so, she doesn’t pick up the phone. only solidifying your method to get her straight already working.

“might as well get ready now, you’ve got a long weekend ahead of you.”

—

few hours passed of preparation and once all of the routine checks around the car were good, jihyo got the signal and rolled out onto the track, completely in race mode getting some good laps on the track for qualifying.

the first two qualifying sessions went smoother than the team initially anticipated, flying with the pace to get the set fastest time within the top five racers left in q3. you see the list of the final racers on the top left of the screen in jihyo, sana, momo, tzuyu, and a surprise appearance of somi from bb block racing.

“alright jihyo,” her race engineer, keji, comes in through the radio, “good outlap, let’s get a gap going, five seconds out, and let’s set the bar with this first lap.”

“copy.” jihyo replies through with her foot to the floor on the main straight, dive bombing into turn one. she’s all too familiar with the iconic street circuit as it is; an okay performance in her first year finishing p11, a dnf after oversteering the nouvelle chicane, and last season where she improved a lot by finishing just outside the podium. jihyo knows that she’s fast when she clears the first and second sectors, but just manages to get the benchmark time to 1:12.141 to start things off.

“okay, so p1 at the moment, you’ve got both minatozaki and hirai both pushing up half a tenth. chou is also behind by more than half a second.” keji relays the information to jihyo while she hikes up beau rivage. “let’s keep this 10 second gap, and recharge on before we go again.”

“i can definitely push more than this,” jihyo says, “the car is nearly getting there.” she knows that she can get more out of it, and there’s still a good amount of time to get the car to perform perfectly.

the next seven minutes would see a trade off of sana getting pole, somi surprised the entire broadcast with a gauntlet time of 1:11.513 putting her p2. tzuyu couldn’t get her time to improve, so she stays in fourth. while that was happening, you watch the screen with jeongyeon back at the paddock as momo bumps sana’s time down to take pole away from her with a surprise time of 1:11.449 with two purple first and second sectores reflecting the time as the session neared its end.

“track is all yours park,” keji breaks through on the radio again before jihyo starts her final lap of the day, “make this lap count, all eyes are on you.”

jihyo got straight to business again, speeding down the corners and gliding with so much ease. the car itself can handle it, like it can literally do everything that jihyo wanted it to. pace felt amazing, and right when jihyo got around the annoying hairpin curve before reaching the tunnel, she knew that this lap was hers. gambling in the last sector before getting back on the main straight, literally wallriding her way to the finish line and once she crossed it, confusion and bliss plagued her mind.

“do we have it?” she asks on the radio, “tell me we have it!”

it all happened in a flash on the official broadcast, the glide of her car so instant that when jihyo crossed the line, the whole garage erupted when they saw the final time for qualifying: 1:11.267. nearly two hundredths faster than momo, celebrating with a clenched fist and a smile while jeongyeon clapped her hands together while shaking her head in disbelief.

“that’s pole position,” keji confirms. “don’t forget about slow mode by the way.”

“ha! had to pull that one out of my ass, but very very good today guys. well done.” jihyo chuckles and congratulates the team on the radio, but the job was merely halfway done.

—

another period of sleep passes, and jihyo’s on the track just minutes before the race starts. you’re watching the offical broadcast on the side of the garage, the camera cutting to a few notable celebrities that were in attendance: you, (because on the side you had a personality on the internet that the whole community adores and loves) mina, who was apart of the famous myoui family that had a stake of ownership in sana and momo’s racing team, tozaki motorsport, and as well as famous dj chaeyoung also coming out from performing prior to the race.

jihyo can’t help but feel nervous, knowing what’s at stake here if things do go south, but she’s smart enough to not think about that. the only thing that matters is to be in first, and to stay there.

“radio check?” keji asks once the pit crew members start to grab their things and break away from the grid.

“radio is good.” jihyo answers, fixing up her gloves before setting the dials on her wheel to the preferred setting as instructed.

one formation lap later and time seems to slow down once jihyo got into track position at the start. heartbeat thumping a lot more frantically, but her breathing helps calm it down only just a bit.

“focus on the lights.” keji instructs, and jihyo stares at the set just hanging above her. those five red lights emitting one by one, and then–

go.

right when the cars start to roll along the track, you can’t help but to smile at yourself in the manner of place that you’re in, same goes for jihyo. she’s chasing right at the beginning, hunting for that needed win. she’ll get it, because you’ll know that she won’t let go of first place. not for momo, not for sana, not even for tzuyu, she wants this more than any of the 19 drivers combined.

she’s running away with it, and everyone else is just trailing behind her.

it wouldn’t be until after the first 10 laps where they’d be an incident on the track caused by kazuha after colliding with somi, bunching up the pack under the safety car. you can’t help but look confused to see to see the pit crew members scramble about the garage, preparing for a change with the car.

“alright jihyo we’re gonna box this lap,” keji says on the radio, “safety car is in, so box now, box.” jihyo complies by pressing the ‘confirm’ button to pit before turning into the entrance of the pit lane. momo, sana, and tzuyu all do the same to take the chance during this window.

“wait, kej are we double stacking?” jihyo asks on the radio before turning into the designated area of their garage.

“we are double stacking,” keji answers, “we are also putting mediums over hards, hoping that they’ll do you some good over the first set of softs.”

“uh, are you sure about this?” jihyo asks again, rolling out of the pit lane under the limiter before accelerating out onto the main track.

“we should be okay for now, but i’ll brief you if there’s any changes.” keji updates one last time before the channel goes silent, and jihyo picks up her speed just a bit behind the safety car before the race could resume again.

the next few thirty to forty laps or so go smoothly between the alternating camera switches between the racers and the view of the track in that one area where it’s parked by yachts. you’re watching the list of drivers off to the left side of the broadcast to see that there were hardly any change of positions between the pack, but one thing that’s scratching your head was the small gap that momo had on jihyo, sana wasn’t too far behind momo also, which has you a little bit worrying.

“why is jihyo going a little bit slower than usual? is that just me?” jeongyeon asks you while you’re squinting to see what the problem is, and then it hits you.

“they fucked up the strategy with her.” you say, rubbing your eyes when the broadcast mentions that jihyo’s tires were only supposed to last about fifty laps or more, and it’s on the 61st lap of the race. “she should’ve been on the hard tires at the swap.”

“how did they do that?”

boo-di-boop, the iconic sound of the radio comes in on the broadcast with jihyo’s racing picture, and the motor is heard in the background of her microphone.

“kej, i can’t keep the car behind like this. my tires are dead.” you hear her say on the radio as she starts the next lap. “we’re gonna lose this race at this point if she keeps this up.”

“understood jihyo, just be aware of the pace that you’re going should be enough to keep up with the cars ahead.” keji replies on the radio channel as the camera panned to jihyo taking another move into the chicane towards the tunnel again.

“i can’t keep the car behind, keji!” jihyo exclaims in desperation while gripping the wheel, hitting another left curve on the track. “i can’t keep my focus on the tires if hirai is breathing on my ass!”

“copy, just maintain your heading.” keji answers back before she closes off the radio channel again.

your face is in your hands when you hear the commentator say that this was the ultimate challenge for jihyo who’s on the cusp of losing her first palace to momo just a few milliseconds behind, the front of her car just gaining on hers as the laps continue to pass.

jeongyeon can’t even look at the screen either, but she still watches as the conversational atmosphere in the garage kept everyone on the edge of their seats for what felt like an eternity.

“8 laps, 8 laps to go. we are on 70.” keji tells jihyo again to update her. she looks over to her front left tire that looks completely thrashed against the asphalt, glancing at her rear view mirror to see momo’s car just inching behind after her challenge in the second to last corner before the new lap.

“i don’t know what you guys were thinking when you gave me these tires, guys.” jihyo huffs out, the exhaustion getting to her given the heat of the car making her sweat a lot more. “you guys better pray for a miracle out of me.”

“understood jihyo, i’ll update you when we’re at four.” keji replies before giving her more space to concentrate.

jihyo knows the struggle so well, but she can’t get frustrated yet, not now. even when the car is a literal furnace nearing the end of this race, she’s willing to go all the way. four more laps pass, then three, then two, and finally–

“last lap, i’ll leave you to it.”

–the last comm from keji to let jihyo work her element, breezing past the corners so well, defending with her life against momo who was just less than 0.1 seconds behind. she’s in the last sector, past the pit lane entrance, you see the pit crew members scramble out to the crash fence near the start of the track, once they saw the glide of jihyo’s red car zoom past the checkered flag, jihyo let out a sigh of relief while you clenched both of your fists, smiling at the screen so stupidly.

—

jihyo doesn’t remember celebrating the trophy lift on top of the first place podium, conversing and talking with a whole wave of people congratulating with her on the race win, talking with momo and sana in the cooldown room and catching up with the all of the stuff in between the race. momo specifically gave her flowers and praise for going with the medium tires for nearly the entire race. it’s all a blur to her.

what she does remember, however–

is the whimper she lets out in your mouth when you pin her against the wall of the elevator, going back up to the hotel suite. she’s smiling against your lips when your hands are roaming her sweaty body, licking her clean and raising a leg up for you to press your thigh against her clothed core.

“mm” is what leaves your lips when you press more against jihyo’s face, tugging her bottom lip before soothing it with a lave of your tongue soon after. jihyo has her own initiative to this, like she deserved it and in which, she has. but you remind her again when you pinch the side of her waist that makes her gasp for air suddenly with a hand at your chest.

“babe,” she barely utters out from the unracked breathing, willing to fold and be sculpted in the ways you want her to be for you. “please, i–”

“what is it, sweetie?” you ask her, landing another stolen kiss that she receives beautifully, overwhelmed and having her lingering for more. jihyo can’t think straight when you’re the one leading a heated intimate moment like this, it’s unfamiliar - much added onto the fact that she lost about a good 3-4 pounds from the race which made her loopy due to the lack of blood flow in her brain. “i’m here, you can always tell me what’s going on.”

jihyo melts when you land the flat of your palm on her right cheek, like a dog with it’s owner asking for attention, she’s quick hum from the contact on your hand, eyes filled with constellations that look like dying stars, “baby, please…”

“please what, hm?”

she pouts, foot stomping on the floor with a low swinging fist. she’s having a temper tantrum like a kid. “you need to–”

“need me to do something?” you tell her, hand hiking up the inside of her leg, once tattered with scratches and marks left to fade away with the constant of time only for them to appear again. she’s mumbling, speaking nonsense when your fingertips tuck inside her pants with the fancy trick of unbuttoning them with just a hand. “you have to be a little bit more clear for me this time girlie. i can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re gonna be acting all shy now.”

“i’m gonna go insane if you don’t…keep going…” jihyo mumbles, eyes to the ground, hand in yours while you close the distance again. instead of landing a kiss on her chin, you let your lips just float over her neck while she tries to collect her thoughts.

“with what, honey?”

“your hands…your lips…i’m gonna-i’m gonna go fucking insane if you don’t touch me right now.”

“yeah, i thought so.” is what comes out of your mouth. and with perfect timing, the elevator dings, opening the door out to the hallway, grabbing her hand and briskly making a break back to the suite.

the door opens quickly as it closes, followed by the shuffling of shoes being taken off and jihyo’s back is against the wall again. you’re cupping her face in your hands, running a thumb over her lips before diving back for another kiss. she jumps the gun when her hands fling forward towards your sweater, eager to rip it off; you can’t help but chuckle at how jihyo was in the span of a few days.

your hands find her wrists, putting them against the drywall. “you’re so cute like this.” you mumble out, lifting jihyo’s chin slightly to drink in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the small parting between her lips, and the irresistible look she’s leaving you with. “my beautiful girl. you did a great job today.”

“huh?” jihyo flushes more when you strip off the cotton blend of your sweater, leaving your body, unclasping your bra soon after. she can’t process the events that are happening and before she knows it, your lips were on her neck again, sucking harshly.

“hnn,” is the only thing jihyo manages to say, feeling her clothes being dragged away. the jacket, the undershirt, the bra, leaving her tits exposed out for the space to be filled in. jihyo squirms when your mouth starts to sweep from her neck down to her chest, gripping your hips when your tongue hits the bud of her nipple, lightly biting it just to test the waters. “my god..shit.”

a cry cuts through when you slide her further up the bed, taking the unbuttoned pants that you opened back in the elevator off her legs. the drag, that little delay of friction with your movements. jihyo presses her legs together to calm the needy ache that her core needs when her panties are the last thing that comes off, completely naked now for you to ruin her.

“my baby needs to be cleaned up after a long race, no?”

“fuck–”

“speak up, princess.”

“do your worst.” and the snort that comes up is interchanged with what she says next. “go ahead, put your hands all over me, grab my neck if you want, split me apart like nothing else matters.”

this was a different way to get things around, but when you part her legs to see those glistening lips, you can’t help but bite your lip at the sight. it’s funny how jihyo shivers just a bit when you slide down the same way you did the other morning while she was on the phone with jeongyeon, but now with no more outside interruptions, you could gladly take your time with her, or not.

either way, she’s gonna be begging for more at this second.

“are you sure?” you ask her. “does my pretty driver deserve this reward for putting up with my shit last time?”

“yes,” jihyo groans out when you stick your tongue out the inside of her leg, moving up. “fuck yes, please. y/n–mmn.”

you mutter something, or it could’ve been a hushed growl of some sort, no matter. when your tongue slides up her leaking entrance, the sigh of relief for jihyo to be used like this, it all seems paid off in a way. she deserves this, driven beyond horny that not even the others could properly explain.

jihyo can’t function at all. the way your tongue flattens out entirely, chest open to the air and head sinking back into the satin pillowcases. she’s pressing her hands over your head before you divert them to the mattress, biting harshly on her clit that makes it stretch out away from her body, even if it was about a centimeter or two.

“hnn–no, bab–i need your–”

“shh,” kissing her sweaty abs, hips bucking when you cup her pussy just slightly from the twinge of overstimulation. “i know, don’t worry. i’m gonna treat you right this time, and you’ll be thanking me later.”

you could hear her whimper when you dive headfirst again.

fucking her dumb was the point in all of this, ears filled up the brim of her constant babbling of how much you’re taking care of her. she’s exhausted from the race, yes. but with how you prompted her to be splitting her insides apart with your fingers, she could go for more, and she will.

“fuck–my–bab–god—” jihyo mumbles out, and she’s trembling. she’s on another echelon past cloud nine, and this feeling of being the one to receive rather than give is completely new to her. your eyes perk up to see her head tossing and turning, losing focus slightly when she looks down to see you become cross-eyed, drunk on the scent of sex filling your senses.

“please-please-please-please-please, you’re gonna make me–ngh!”

it’s hot, messy, the molten core of it all enough to burn right through you when she cums. jihyo feels a few streams of tears fall from her cheeks, sobbing uncontrollably when you fuck her through her orgasm. her legs close around your head tightly, toes curling inward to the point that they actually look like fists. you eventually pull away, towering over her, milking the sight of her flustered face, heavy breathing, the small shake you see in her shoulders.

you lick your fingers in front of her, and jihyo just bites her lip in anticipation. “so good, always.” you tell her and she sighs. “i hope you’re ready for more.”

jihyo nods.

the way that she’s sprawled, pliable, like a lump of clay in your hands, she’s liquid enough for you to mold and twist in every way that you can. going for another kiss, your hands are quick to find her breasts. you shift slightly to put your knee between jihyo’s cunt, making her yelp lightly against your teeth.

resting your head on hers, she stops for a quick breath, “i’m getting dizzy…” jihyo mutters, pulling you in for another kiss like her life depended on it. this was the best version of jihyo you ever got out of her.

you pull away, kneading her breast before skating down to the side of her waist, dipping down for another mark left on her neck. she’ll be able to wash the sweat away, but you kinda feel bad for the concealer box that’s sitting on the vanity. the buttery smooth glide of your fingers against her slit makes the air coming from her lungs stop at the bottom of her throat.

“need me some more?”

“y-yes baby.”

“how bad do you need this?” you ask her again, sucking harshly on the firm collarbone that makes jihyo chuckle turned into another throaty moan.

“very bad, just please–put it in already.”

shaking your head, it’s amazing how she can be competent one part of the day to cracking under the fault of your touch. “what my driver needs.” and you slip two fingers in her walls. she’s so fucking slick for it, it’s unreal.

taking it easy isn’t the right route no more, so you push. pounding, keeping pace while your mouth is working her chest again. jihyo is a mess, it’s getting hectic. her moans are like a siren calling out in the sea late at night, urging you to throw all rationality out the window, to fuck this woman to the brink of oblivion.

jihyo knows you’re good at what you do, “god, my beautiful sweetheart. all fucked good because you won the race again. this is what happens when you come in first.”

literally.

the angle isn’t optimal, so you raise her leg up. jihyo flips the pillow over her head, putting her face near the headboard of the bed, and you continue to let your hand get caught in the tornado of slick between skin-on-skin. the moans themselves are so loud enough that you might as well open the window for the whole world to hear.

you’re pulling her apart, jihyo isn’t even crying anymore. she’s gone quiet, eyes rolled back while her singular foot is just dangling up in the air. she’s tense one second, then loose the next. her hand grips the bedsheets on instinct, and she’s slurring her words by the beat of your heart.

“more,” the girl with her body mangled on the bed by you says, complaining, and that’s your cue to really fuck her brains out.

“c-c-clo–i-babe-i can’t-”

“close?”

jihyo just nods, mouth hanging open in pure unraveling.

“so fucking pretty.” you tell her, dipping for a passionate kiss, your left arm swooping under the arch of her back while the other is preoccupied with the relentless stroke of your hand inside her. you let your face float over hers when the slightest curl of your knuckles sends her over the edge, and she clenches your fingers with her walls.

the pace slows down, and you slide your fingers out, placing jihyo’s own essence for her to taste. christ, it’s a fucking sight for you, the wave of lust fading away and everything is goes back to normal when you see jihyo’s sleepy smile break through. your body just tumbles over onto her, wrapping your arms around her chest, lightly squeezing from behind, but careful enough to not overdo it. some minutes pass and jihyo turns her head to meet your eyes.

you’re locked in a small staring contest before she leans for a lazy kiss on the bottom of your chin. it’s calming in each other’s embrace before falling asleep just seconds after.

—

post race mornings are always slow, and jihyo wakes up to see you sitting up already ahead of the expected routine. she shuffles over to kiss your shoulder before resting against your body some more, the drowsiness still present in her mind.

“you look awful.” you tell her, and jihyo just grumbles with a lose hand hitting your leg over the covers. “i take it that you finally got your priorities straight.”

“only because you had to make me think about you over racing, but i’m sorry.”

“don’t be, it looked like you enjoyed that race yesterday.”

silence fills up the room again before jihyo rubs her eyes and stretches before she sighs, and you can feel a question coming up in her brain. “y/n.”

you hum, turning over to see the cover drop down to her waist, showing the marked chest and line of hickeys all over her neck. smiling, you let your head fall forward to hide the blush coming through your cheeks with the amount of work you did all over jihyo. “what’s up, ji?”

jihyo reaches over the pile of her tossed pants to pick up her phone, scrolling to see the numbers of notifications that she had ignored from the day before, reading all of the previewed messages from everyone that she could see in a blink or two.

“was it really necessary to get me fucked while i was on the phone with jeong yesterday?”

you don’t even answer that question.

#hyunie #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop smut #twice smut #park jihyo #twice jihyo #jihyo smut #jihyo x reader

238 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 2 days

Note

I love your stories! Can you write one where Melissa and the reader are really good friends and Mel realizes the reader takes care of her in a way Joe or Gary never did. R helps her to cook, to clean, really listen to her… And then Melissa finally lets te reader fully take care of her one night. Please with a bottom Mel and a strap on to make everything better! Thank you ❤️

Hi! I’m so happy you’re loving my stories. I thought this prompt was so cute. While I see Mel as more of a top, I wrote it where she allows reader to top her for one time. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I got a cute Chessy one next with a cooking lesson involved. So stay on the lookout for that!

Allow Me

Warnings: smut, bottom Mel, top reader, lotta fluff

Words: 3.1k

“Hey Lissa.” You tell her and sit down next to her in the break room and she looks up at you and forces a smile.

“Hey hon.” She says with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her and she sighs again. She then goes on to explain what was bothering her and like always you listen carefully and closely to her. Knowing her for 2 years means you know when she wants advice and just someone to listen to her. Today it was the latter.

“So we still on for tomorrow or did you want to cancel?” You ask her.

“Of course we’re still on, why wouldn’t we be?”

“Didn’t know if you wanted to be alone this weekend.” You tell her gently.

“Hon, the last thing I want is to be alone.” She says and she realises she’ll be alone on Sunday.

“Do you want me to come over on Sunday too?” You ask her.

“Only if you want.” She tells you, trying not to let the fact that she does want you over but doesn’t want to inconvenience you.

“I’ll always be up to come see you.” You tell her and she smiles and blushes. Every Saturday, you come over and you both cook a meal together. Being Italian, Melissa at first didn’t let you help and did it all herself but then she slowly got you to do small things and now you do half each. Saturday was both you and Melissa’s favourite day of the week. It was not just because it was the weekend, but because you got to spend time alone together.

On Saturday you show up an hour early like always. You once told her you were out and if she allowed, you could be there an hour early since you were near her house. She accepted and now you always show up early.

“Hey y/n!” She greets you and allows you in. You walk inside and hand her the bottle of wine you got this time.

“You got my favourite?” She asks and you nod.

“Figured you could use the pick-me-up with the shitty week you had.” You tell her and she looks at you with glossy eyes.

“You didn’t have too, seeing you is already cheering me up.” She tells you and you blush. You’re aware of your crush on her, you’ve been aware for a year now. You feel butterflies every time she gives you a compliment or looks at you. The only reason you haven’t told her is because she was with Gary and now it seems she’s hooking up with the fire chief. You’re no firefighter and not a man either so you think you don’t have a chance with her.

You get to work on the meal and you see Melissa keeps glancing at you. “What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just, I notice how you help take care of me, you know. How you always listen to listen to me when I need to vent, or helping me cook and you always help with the clean up after. Joe and Gary never helped the way you do. It doesn’t go unnoticed.” She tells you and you look down and continue shopping up the peppers.

“It’s not a problem, it’s nothing.” You tell her with a shrug. She stops what she’s doing and walks over to you. She takes the knife from you and sets it down on the counter and grabs your hands and gets you to turn to face her.

“It’s not nothing hon. I really do appreciate it.” She tells you.

“Lissa, you were never taken care of the way you should have been. You should have been treated like the queen you are.” You tell her and she looks at you with adoration in her eyes.

“You always say the sweetest things to me y/n.” She tells you and you smile at her. She cups your cheek and you look at her surprised. The timer from the oven startles you both and you jump. You go back to what you were doing, your mind swirling with the thought that you almost kissed her and that would have ruined the friendship you two have. You got so distracted by your thoughts that you didn’t notice the looks that Melissa keeps giving you.

In Melissa’s mind, similar thoughts are swirling around. She almost kissed you right then and there. She has no idea whether you’re interested in her or not. She figured out that she has feelings for you about 5 months ago, 2 months after she broke up with Gary. She started hooking up with the fire chief to try and get her mind off of you but the more she hooked up with him, the more she wished it was you she was having sex with. She called it off with him about a month ago and she didn’t tell anyone. The only one who knew was Jacob as their roommates and she made him swear not to tell anyone.

Jacob comes home when you two are just about done cooking and comes in the kitchen. “Hey you two.” He says, he knows you come over every Saturday evening. He likes to go out and give you guys some privacy in the hopes that one of you will confess their feelings for the other. But so far that hasn’t happened.

“Hey Jacob, how was your date?” You ask him.

“It was good. Did I miss anything interesting?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I don’t know why you ask that everytime. Makes me wonder what you think we’re doing here.” You joke with him and Melissa snorts. Melissa is at the stove finishing up the cooking while you started on the dishes.

Melissa knows why he always asks, she questioned him about it a couple months ago and he told her. Melissa denied any possible evidence that you like her back that Jacob told her.

The 3 of you sit down and have supper and talk about anything that comes to mind. Then after you and Melissa do the dishes together while Jacob gets a show ready. You all watch desperate housewives and Jacob always makes sure to sit on the side so you two sit together. You end up falling asleep on Melissa and she stops breathing for a second. Jacob glances over at you and Melissa then gives her a look, she glares at him and he looks back to the tv with a smirk. She wraps her arm around you and pulls you closer and then adjusts the blanket that you’re sharing as it fell off of you a bit.

After the show, Jacob goes to his room and leaves Melissa alone with you sleeping on her. Melissa gently shakes you awake and you stir and slowly wake up.

“Hey hon. You fell asleep, are you ok to drive home?” She asks you and she can tell you’re not fully aware of what she said. But you still nod nonetheless and you stand up. You go to get your things but she stops you when she sees how sleepy you are. “Hon, why don’t you just stay the night? You seem like you might fall asleep at the wheel and you’ll be back here tomorrow anyway.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Your couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on with the plastic for longer periods. So I’ll just go home.” You tell her and she is worried you might fall asleep at the wheel.

“Then sleep in my bed with me. I have a queen so it’s big enough for 2 people.” She tells you and you freeze. Did she really just offer that you sleep next to each other?

“Are you sure?” You ask her and she nods. “Ok then.” You agree to her offer and she smiles.

And she’s glad that she offered as you stumble upstairs and you immediately fall asleep before getting ready for bed. Melissa gets you more on the bed as you fell asleep at the foot of the bed and then tucks you in. She gets ready for bed and then gets under the covers with you. She looks at your sleeping form and can’t help but place a kiss on your forehead. “Good night y/n.” She whispers and turns off her lamp. You both wake up to cuddling each other and then pull away from each other when you realise it. “Um, if you want I can give you some clothes to wear or if you want to go home and change and then come back here, you can do that too.” Melissa says, avoiding what just happened.

“If you don’t mind providing an outfit, I would appreciate that.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Ya I think I have something that’s your style and that’ll fit you.” She says softly and gets up and goes to her closet. It’s then that you get a look at her and your brain stops. She’s just there in a light shirt and short shorts as pjs, and you can tell she’s not wearing a bra. She walks back and hands you the clothes and you take it from her with a ‘thank you’. When you take them from her, you’re in perfect view of her cleavage and you think you saw the outline of her breasts through the shirt. Melissa caught you staring and she smiles. She went with the lightest shirt she has and the shortest shorts as well, hoping she’d catch your attention.

Your not fully awake brain yet thought it’d be ok to just change where you are and you take your top off. Only then realising that you’re just there in a bra and Melissa is staring right at you, mouth open and eyes wide. You just decide to fuck it and keep going. You take your pants off as well and Melissa breaks. She walks over to where you are, grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It takes you a second for your brain to catch up and when it does, you kiss her back.

She puts her hands on your hips and you put yours around her neck. She pushes you back and you walk into the nightstand. She goes down and kisses your neck and sucks on it. She goes to unclip your bra but then you push her down to the bed. She’s sitting at the edge of the bed and you straddle her hips and kiss her again. She goes to unclip your bra and you let her this time. You let it fall off of you and give her time to get a look at you and she smiles. You then pull her shirt off and you look at her. You look at her eyes and then remember what she said yesterday, that no one took care of her. You pin her shoulders down and she looks up at you.

“Hon, what are you doing?” She asks, she’s not used to being the one not in control, she’s usually the top.

“I’m going to make you feel good Lissa, and you’re going to let me take care of you.” You tell her and she looks at you with wide eyes. She thinks it over for a few seconds and then she nods. You smile and then you go for her neck. She moans at you sucking on her neck. You then leave a trail of kisses to in between her breasts and then you put a nipple in your mouth.

“Oh my god.” She gasps out, she feels slightly guilty that she knows Jacob is gonna hear her have sex again. Then you suck on her nipple again and the guilt flies out the window, as well as the thought. You suck and swirl your tongue around her nipple and your fingers play with the other one. She moans at the sensation and you put your mouth around the other one and do the same thing. She bucks her hips at you and you smile. You’re glad she’s enjoying this and you're going to prolong it too. You’re not going to rush it like most of the guys she’s been with probably did. You pull back from her nipples and then you go up to an ear and gently nibble on it and she hums, you do the same thing with her other ear and you get the same reaction. You kiss her lips and her hands go to your thighs and trails up but you stop her.

“I told you that I’m going to make you feel good, not the other way around.” You tell her and pin her hands above her head. You know she can easily escape your hold as she’s stronger than you but she makes no attempts to escape. “Now, keep your hands there, hold the headboard if you have too.” You tell her and she looks at you confused.

“I’m on the edge of the bed.” She tells you and you let her move up on the bed and place her head on a pillow.

You then lean down and place kisses on her thighs before pulling her shorts off. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” You say and you roam your eyes on her body. You place more kisses on her thighs and then one on her clit and she bucks her hips.

“Y/n! Please.” She whines out and you put your tongue on her clit and lick. She grabs the headboard for support, spreads her legs further apart and bends her knees to plant her feet flat on the bed. You then insert a finger in her and she gasps and then you add a second and she moans out loud enough that you’re sure Jacob heard. You start sliding them in and out of her and she starts breathing fast. You pull your tongue away from her clit and you lean closer to her.

“Do you have a strap?” You ask her while still fingering her. She nods and taps the nightstand. You open the drawer and you grab the strap and dildo that’s in there. You then pull your fingers out of her and she looks at you in shock before she sees that you’re taking your pants off then putting on the strap on. You crawl on top of her and kiss her lips. You put your hand between her legs and rub her clit. She bucks her hips and gasps into the kiss. You then remove your hand and slowly slide the tip of the strap in her entrance. She gasps and breaks the kiss. You then start kissing her neck and slide it in further. You then slide it all the way in and she gasps. “You ok?” You ask her and she nods. You then start moving slowly, you’re on your hands and knees on top of her and moving the strap in and out of her.

“Faster, please go faster.” She tells you and you obey. You might be the top but you want her to feel good and if that means going faster, then you’ll go faster. You go faster and she wraps her legs around you. You take her hands and interlace your fingers with hers. You continue to place kisses on her neck and she starts breathing hard and fast. The strap was rubbing your clit and you start to feel the build up too. You take one of your hands and go and rub her clit. She moans out and her legs start to shake. “OMG! I’m close, I’m so close.” She says and then she comes. You don’t stop though, you just continue going as if she didn’t and she grabs your hair with your free hand. You can tell the sensitivity is getting to her a bit.

“It’s ok Mel, take your time. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.” You tell her and kiss her forehead, you slow down on her clit a bit and her next orgasm is approaching. You’re holding yours in, you want her to come again before you do. Her legs start to shake again and then her orgasm crashes through her. You come right after her and you go to pull out but she stops you.

“No, keep going, please.” She tells you and you do. Her third orgasm hits and she screams out. “Ok, I can’t take anymore.” She says and you gently pull out of her. You take the strap off and then you run into the bathroom and come back out with a warm wet cloth and you clean her up. She thinks the warmness of it feels nice against her sensitive core. You’re so delicate when cleaning her up and she can’t believe how she got so lucky with you. She’s been the one taking care of people almost her whole life. And now she has someone who wants to take care of her and is very gentle with her. You finish cleaning her up and then you clean yourself up and bring the cloth back into the bathroom so it doesn’t leak on the floor. You come back and cuddle into her and let her body calm down.

After about half an hour of cuddling you both get dressed and go downstairs. You walk into the kitchen and Jacob is there sipping on a coffee and smirking.

“Good morning Jacob.” You tell him.

“It sounded like you guys are having a good one.” He teases and Melissa looks up at him and rolls her eyes.

“How much did you hear?” She asks him.

“Enough to know that you got satisfied more than you did with that fire chief you ended things with.” He says and you look at her.

“When did you end things with the fire chief?” You ask her and she glares at Jacob.

“About a month ago. When I realised I’d rather be with you.” She tells you and she hands you a cup of coffee along with a kiss. You sneakily grab her ass without Jacob seeing but her surprise yelp gives it away.

“Ok I’m leaving before I get more traumatised.” He says and leaves the kitchen.

Melissa will more than likely have to threaten him to make sure he doesn’t tell anyone what he heard but for now she just smiles at you and kisses you again.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

135 notes · View notes

waldau · 2 days

Text

menace — boo seungkwan | 2,058 words | fluff

inspired by this video. and ofc boo seungkwan :)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

no one ever talks about the downsides of having a crush.

having a heart that beats erratically only when you see them. the way your hands turn unattractively clammy even if they’re within normal distance. you know, normal friend distance, because only one of you feels another way. voice cracks that spring up at the worst possible moments. the way you forget what you want to say when it’s your turn to speak.

maybe it’s fun sometimes, daydreaming about a world where you’re something else. something more. but that’s just what it is — a fantasy. the cons outweigh the pros.

case in point: boo seungkwan.

you don’t know how long you’ve been cuddling with your pillow, your back facing the man in question while you try to will yourself to sleep. it doesn’t work, just the way it hasn’t been working ever since you flopped onto your bed.

“you should be out with the others,” you murmur without looking at seungkwan, another variation of the same sentiment you’ve been trying to get him to understand for a while now.

seungkwan lets out a huff. “and you should stop telling me to go.”

you don’t need to turn to know he’s run his hand through his hair in frustration. you’re sure his hair is an adorable mess, but you don’t need any more fuel to add to the fire of feelings that’s been raging inside you all evening long.

when your friends suggested renting a beach house for the weekend, you didn’t realize they’d put you and seungkwan in the same room. you’re best friends, they’d said. of course you’re going to room together.

seungkwan isn’t half bad at being a roommate, but it’s a bit of an issue when you have a massive crush on him that you’re really trying to stop thinking about.

annoying seungkwan with his annoying smile and his annoying hand that rested on your thigh half the time you were playing monopoly. his annoying leg that touched yours when you were watching a movie because there wasn’t much space left on the sofa, but he had to have you next to him because he’s never been good with horror.

even when you’d offered to hold his hand from where you were sitting on the sofa, he refused till jeonghan moved to make space for him to sit next to you.

in a way, you’re glad you sat next to him. at least you didn’t have to pretend like you weren’t scared, not when you had vernon and wonwoo sitting in front of you, watching the screen unblinkingly.

it’s all been a bit…much. which is why you decided to skip going on a walk along the beach with the boys and head for a night in, citing a headache.

the only problem? boo seungkwan wanted to be the one to take care of you.

“do you want me to get you anything? water? medicine?” he asks, soft, and you feel bad for making him stay behind for something that isn’t even an issue for you.

“no.”

“should i sing something?”

“no.” the last thing you need right now is boo seungkwan serenading you while you’re wallowing in your feelings about him.

it’s neither of your faults that the moment you realized you were in sharp, blinding, no-taking-back love with him was when he clinched the match point in a badminton match against junhui four months ago.

four months ago. a badminton match.

your life hasn’t been easy since.

you’ve never minded seungkwan being touchy before — that’s just how he is. he brushes stray lint off your clothes if he spots it, fixes your hair if he thinks it’s out of place, and traces the back of your ear for a few seconds when you’re nervous about something.

you love it. you love being his best friend. but what you don’t love is the way you’ve been carefully rethinking every interaction you’ve been having with him since that fateful night four months ago.

boo seungkwan is sunshine incarnate. he loves and loves and loves. he loves everyone so much that you don’t know if the love he has for you is any different from the love he has for everyone else.

sometimes you wonder if he has even the slightest hint. he’s not clueless, but he’s not very good at acting on his impulses the way you are. for him, everything needs to be measured. set in stone. approved of beforehand. something you wonder if you could just kiss him and see what happened, before realizing that a moment of happiness is not, in fact, worth a lifetime without boo seungkwan.

which is why you let out a deep sigh and curl in on yourself.

“okay, that’s it,” seungkwan says, and you hear the sound of your laptop shutting and the springs of your bed creaking before he comes into your line of sight, kneeling down on the floor in front of you on his knees, head propped up on his arms that are folded near your face.

if he was a bit closer, you could’ve even kissed him.

you wonder who let boo seungkwan be this perfect. there’s nothing about him that you dislike.

“you’re not telling me what’s wrong, and i’m not leaving till you do. you should know that by now.”

you do know that. you’re very familiar with boo seungkwan and his incredibly stubborn self that just wants to help because he loves to. he loves people. and he just doesn’t love you. not the way you want him to.

“it’s your fault,” you mumble childishly, trying to turn to the other side so he’ll have to repeat the whole ordeal, but he just grabs your hand with an iron-strong grip. damn him and his long fingers.

his fingers, weirdly enough, were the first thing you actually noticed about him when you first met him. the way he drank jeonghan under the table with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around the beer glass, draining it like it was water.

this evening, too — his fingers drumming on your thigh, his fingers brushing against your hand, his fingers brushing your hair behind your ear so that he could whisper his plan to you.

“i knew it,” he says, head lifting from the bed. “it’s not just a headache. it’s probably not even a headache, is it?”

“shut up,” you mumble, more out of the fear that he’ll find out somehow than the mortification stemming from the fact that he’s caught on so easily.

“is it really my fault, though? you’re not even letting me make up for it.”

he should be out, you think. out with the rest of your friends and out of your treacherous heart. instead he’s sitting here with your heart in his hands and he’s not even aware of it.

“you can’t do anything about it,” you huff.

“try me.”

when it becomes clear that he’s seriously not letting go of your hand even after a few minutes of silence, you turn to look at the ceiling, eyes fixed on the little cracks above you.

“have you ever…wanted something you can’t have?”

“of course i have,” he says instantly.

“oh. did you get it?”

“no,” he says easily, letting go of your hand. “but it doesn’t mean i’ve stopped trying.”

now you’re curious. you let go of the pillow so you can see him better. “what is it?”

“i’m not telling you.”

“oh, come on!”

seungkwan leans forward to ruffle your hair. “not till you tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sigh. “i can’t.”

“why not?”

“because…”

“hmm?”

“because.”

“wow,” seungkwan says, with a small laugh. “i didn’t know you were this articulate.”

“i hate you,” you say with no heat, turning around and lying down again. maybe he’ll get bored in a while and leave you to your own devices.

no such luck. one moment you’re staring at the blank wall of your room, and the next thing you is that there’s a weight on the bed right behind you. seungkwan’s weight behind you, to be specific. he’s so warm all the time. one of his hands snakes around your waist gingerly, and you tense up immediately.

sure, you’re best friends, but you’ve never done this before. sleepovers are a common thing for the two of you, but cuddling? you’re not uncomfortable, exactly, but you just don’t know what to feel.

“can i ask you a question?” seungkwan asks, and his proximity makes goosebumps rise on your arms. embarrassing.

“sure?” you manage to squeak out, definitely not focusing on how much better his voice sounds so close. and how casual he’s being about all this.

“are you really going to let random strangers on the internet control your life?”

you’re so confused by the tangent he’s gone on that you have no choice but to turn around and face him, and— bad idea. bad idea. his lips look so damn kissable that you have to physically lift your eyes from them to meet his. and he’s smiling for some reason.

you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, much less make it to the next day alive.

“do you want to kiss your guy best friend?”

you feel like he’s stolen all your words. you’re aware you’re just staring at him, blinking like a goldfish, unable to speak. seungkwan lifts a hand and hovers it above your cheek, seeking your permission. he catches the minute nod you give him and rests his palm against your cheek, hand warm against your cool skin.

“i don’t care what she said,” seungkwan continues. “do you want to?”

“how did you—” you manage to choke out.

“because i can see what posts you’ve liked, silly,” seungkwan giggles, thumb swiping against your cheek before he lets go. you instantly miss the heat of his hand. “you still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

he doesn’t seem upset, the way you thought he might be at the discovery. “if i say…yes?”

“then,” seungkwan says, leaning down, and what comes next is something you’ve only ever dreamed of. his lips are soft against yours, letting you set the pace as his hands gently card through your hair. he’s always been gentle with you underneath the teasing exterior he has, and now is no different.

when he doesn’t pull away despite your fears, you decide to take the leap and thread your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to yourself. he comes to you willingly.

you don’t know what to do with your hands when seungkwan finally pulls away. he’s out of breath. you feel oddly proud, but there’s also an unsettling feeling in your stomach. what if—

“please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing,” seungkwan says, finally looking nervous for the first time all evening long. “because then i should’ve listened to her.”

“no,” you say, feeling yourself smile like an idiot. “no. neither of us should listen to her. i don’t want it to be a one-time thing, either.”

“good,” seungkwan sighs, moving closer so his head rests on your shoulder.

“but…how long have you known?”

“how long? hmm. only a month.”

horrible. he’s been watching you suffer all this while?

“hey, stop being shy on me now,” seungkwan says, turning to look up at you. “i’ve seen the way you look at me.”

you’re sure there’s steam pouring out of your ears. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” seungkwan singsongs. “because i love you far too much for that.”

you look down at him. “you…” love me?

but that wasn’t ever a question, was it? he does. you’ve seen the way he looked at you before you realized your feelings for him, and the way he’s been looking at you after, and there’s been no difference.

he’s always loved you. maybe longer than you’ve loved him.

there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest that makes you push seungkwan away and hide your head in his neck so he doesn’t see you. he lets out a little laugh and rests a hand on your back.

“do you want to go out and introduce everyone to your…boyfriend?” he asks, shy, and it’s a sight to behold because boo seungkwan’s always anything but shy.

“boyfriend?”

“does it sound okay?” he asks sheepishly.

he gets his answer in the form of a kiss.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#lmk if there's any spelling errors pls <3 #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seungkwan fluff #fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #waldau writes

147 notes · View notes

vscabarca · 2 days

Note

could you write a fic ab ferran being super jealous, you guys aren’t together only friends but you seem to be getting super close to one of the other barca boys and he doesn’t like that. so when you’re at a party one time he gets a bit drunk and pulls you away from everyone to confess his feelings for you

jealousy, jealousy - ferran torres

summary: ferran caught feelings for his childhood friend and gets jealous once he hears you might be seeing someone.

genre: fluff

a/n: thank you for the request anon💕

———

„dude you can’t just stare at her and do nothing about it.“ Gavi nudged Ferran‘s shoulder as they were walking onto the pitch before the game against Villareal. You sat at your usual spot, the one Ferran got for you, waving at the two boys with a smile once you saw them already looking at you.

Ferran had been a close friend of yours ever since your brother met him with fourteen during a tryout at the Valencian football academy. Sadly your brother didn’t make it into the team but Ferran never stopped coming over, even though his schedule was extremely busy.

You always had a different relationship with him than your brother, one that was much calmer and more gentle. Throughout the years, friends teased you two of becoming a couple eventually and you almost believed it, until Ferran moved to Manchester to pursue his dream. You couldn’t be more proud of him and even flew over to watch his games, but it just wasn’t the same anymore. So when you heard he‘d transfer to Barcelona, the city you moved to years ago, you were so happy to finally be spending more time with him. Then, you were told he had a girlfriend.

Sira, a gorgeous girl and Luis Enrique’s daughter. Your heart sunk once he‘d told you, not because of jealousy, but because you always thought he had feelings for you too. Seemed like you misinterpreted his words and actions when you were a teenager.

For a bit more than a year you gave him and Sira more space, not wanting her to think you were jealous and tried to distract yourself with other guys. You dated one here and there, but your mind never could stop thinking about the boy you knew since you were fourteen.

„I can’t. I think she’s seeing Moha from the Barça B team.“ Ferran explained to Gavi, his hand covering his mouth to avoid lip reading.

„I don’t know him too well but I‘ve never seen him with Y/n. Balde‘s throwing a party next weekend, then you‘ll see if you fucked up or not.“ Gavi snorted but gave his friend an encouraging tap onto his back.

Even though Ferran had been happy while he was together with Sira, his feelings for you came back once she had broken up with him over a year ago. He always had been attracted towards you, having a crush as a teenager which turned into real feelings over the years you were his friend. Sira made him forget those feelings when they were together, but once the relationship started to crumble, he knew you were made to be his. The thought of you seeing Moha made his gut wrench. Sure he was a great guy, but he couldn’t let you go for a second time.

Barça won the game 3:1 with Ferran even scoring a goal. He made his signature celebration, then pointed towards the stands where you sat at. After realizing the goal was dedicated towards you, a shy smile spread across your face.

„Great game Fer!“ You complemented him once you sat in his car and drove you home.

„Thank you, hermosa. Are you busy next Saturday? Balde‘s throwing a birthday party. He told me to bring a plus one.“ Ferran grinned, still on a high from the victory and having you in his passenger seat.

„Sure I‘d love to!“ You agreed with a smile.

Saturday rolled around quickly and throughout the day your thoughts wandered back to what Ferran would like you to wear. Eventually you decided on something comfortable and were just done with getting ready as you heard a car honk outside.

„You look pretty.“ He said as you sat down and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

———

Throughout the party you felt Ferran‘s eyes on you, leaving you all flustered when he made eye contact from across the room.

Your heart beat faster when you saw him smile or when you felt him put his arm around your shoulder. Ferran wasn’t much different. He wanted to impress you, to leave you wanting him as much as he wanted you. There was for sure jealousy behind it, silently wanting to show off how good you two got along.

All went great until Moha showed up. He immediately spotted you and you two immersed into light conversation, laughing together as he whispered something into your ear. Ferran didn’t think it was funny. After he saw you two so close, laughing, you touching his shoulder, he felt the jealousy build up in his system. Maybe it was also the alcohol he drank, but something about seeing you with Moha just wasn’t right. Especially not how the two of you seemed to be so close.

Gavi came up behind Ferran, immediately knowing what his friend was thinking.

„I swear Ferran if you don’t do something tonight and tell her, she‘ll leave with him.“ He threatened but Ferran knew he was right. He put his cup down after Gavi‘s words and walked up to you, interrupting the conversation you held with the Barça B player.

„Can I talk to you? It’s urgent.“ You sensed something was up. Usually he was talkative and smiled but now he looked distressed and upset, his gaze flickering between you and Moha. Moha awkwardly smiled after greeting Ferran and stepped a bit away to give you more space.

You nodded and gave your friend an appreciative smile, when Ferran took your hand and led you outside. Even though the atmosphere between you two was tense and irritating, your cheeks heated up once his hand grabbed yours.

He sat down on a bench, secluded from the other guests and motioned for you to sit down next to him.

„I can’t pretend anymore Y/n.“ Ferran said, his voice shaking once he turned his head to face you. You became nervous even though you didn’t know what he was saying.

„Pretend what?“ You softly spoke, trying to ease the unsettling tension around you two. Your hand wandered to the back of his neck like it often did before, and played with the short ends of his hair.

„pretend that I don’t love you.“ His word made you stop, his eyes never leaving yours once he said the words.

„I‘ve caught feelings for you when we were fifteen, going on vacation together with our families, sneaking out to the pool, telling each other the most embarrassing stories. I never had the courage to tell you because I was so scared. I was scared you‘d reject me and once I moved to England, I tried to forget you. When Sira broke up with me last year, I realized all I wanted is you. For you to be my girlfriend, not my best friend. It always had been you. Please tell me there’s nothing going on with Moha, and if yes, then I‘ll let you alone, but please think about this. About us.“ Ferran took your hands in his, silently hoping you’d say something, anything. The shocked expression on your face scared him even more, already wanting to apologize for his rambling, thinking he had officially messed things up. But you on the other hand could feel your heart beat out of your chest. The teenage love just confessed his feelings for you, but mixed Moha up for one of your potential lovers.

You couldn’t put your feelings into words, so you just grabbed Ferran by the back of his neck and crushed your lips lovingly against his. He was surprised at first, then immediately kissed you back, holding you by your waist and pulling you towards him. Forehead against forehead, you smiled sweetly at each other, both cheeks flushed from the kiss you just shared.

„I love you Ferran. And I don’t want to let you go too, I want to be with you.“ You whispered, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

„So there’s nothing going on with Moha?“ He asked rather surprised. You did understand why he would think that, but you guessed it was time to tell him.

„I‘ve spend so much time with him lately because I babysit his little sister. His parents are out of town for a while and he knew I babysit besides university.“ You grinned, gladly clearing up the misunderstanding.

„He came to me tonight to tell me his sister had a crush on my brother. That’s why we laughed so much.“

Ferran‘s eyes went wide once he realized everything was a big misunderstanding, but was even more glad that you always waited for him too.

„Oh.“ Was the only answer he could muster to which you only shook your head.

„Stick to football, you’re still not the smartest.“ You joked but Ferran acted offended.

„Hey!“ He laughed, but was quick enough to lean back in again to kiss you passionately.

„But I was smart enough to make you mine, hermosa.“

#fc barcelona #football one shot #football x reader #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres one shot #ferran torres #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader

98 notes · View notes

star4daisy · 1 day

Text

so it's been two months since I've wrote anything and thought this might be a good way to get back into it heheh

may: 1 to 4 prompts: rose, dread, illusion, hopeless words: 731 @rosekillermicrofic

There were a lot of things Barty had been expecting to feel: happiness, excitement, anticipation, love. What he hadn’t predicted was the dread.

The anxiety that was taking over his entire body made him twitchy enough that the flight attendant asked if he was alright. He told her he was fine and asked for another glass of whiskey. In truth, Barty felt like he might throw up at any moment from the prospect of seeing Evan again after a year.

They had parted ways amicably and agreed to remain friends while they were unable to see each other, neither of them knew the amount of time Barty would need to stay away to solve the matters of his inheritance and to whom his father’s company would belong. He tried to do everything as fast as he could to be able to come back home. To Evan.

Nonetheless, it took Barty way longer than he would’ve desired to stay apart from him. Enough time for him to see Evan had gone on a date with someone else. Someone who kept popping up on his social media from time to time, more regularly than Barty liked. Hell, if it was up to him there wouldn't be someone else at all. It made him want to break his phone in half.

Sure, they had agreed they could go out with other people, but it didn’t mean Evan should have wanted to, even though Barty had been the one to suggest it. It had been more out of the idea that he couldn’t keep himself from fucking everything up due to not being able to have sex with other people.

Not because he wanted them, but because it was how Barty dealt with the hard things. It always was whiskey and sex for him. Sometimes coke too, but if he needed to work on serious business he couldn’t be going to the company after snorting. Well, he could. But considering the amount of times he had fucked up due to it while his father was still alive, Barty thought it would be for the best to keep it only on the weekends.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t fucked anyone else all year. He was only human. But he also knew it was different for Evan, he couldn’t have sex with people he didn’t have feelings for. So for him to take that step it meant something completely different than it did for Barty.

To be hurt by it might’ve been hypocrisy on his part, but he had never cared to be a good person. All that had ever mattered to him was to have Evan by his side. Barty had failed utterly like he did with most things in his life, or so his father used to claim.

Barty’s first vision of him looked like a dream, he couldn’t help but wonder if Evan was a figment of his imagination, an illusion that he’d been seeing ever since they had parted. Except that this version in front of him looked nothing like the one he’d been imagining. That version looked exactly like how Evan looked the last time they’d seen each other at the airport, his white dreadlocks pulled out of his face on a high ponytail that made his features even sharper.

Now his hair was shaved but still discoloured, Barty had never thought he could look better and yet, once again, Evan managed. It was only when he was standing in front of him that Barty noticed Evan had been holding something in his hand.

A white rose.

“My rose,” were the first words out of Barty’s mouth.

“I missed you,” Evan didn’t look nearly as unsure as Barty had felt when he extended his hand and offered him the flower.

Barty took it, allowing their hands to brush together, he felt it nicking his skin and blood pooling out of it as soon as he held it. There were remains of dried blood on Evan’s hand too, Barty wondered how long Evan had been standing there waiting for him holding the beautiful rose close to his chest while it tore his hands apart.

Evan hadn’t bothered taking the thorns out of it. He never did. Barty didn’t bother stopping the too-wide smile that wanted to tear its way out of his face.

Perhaps they weren’t as hopeless as he once had thought.

#might do a part 2 #who knows #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #marauders #evan rosier #ao3 #fanfic #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #slytherin #rosekiller fanfiction #rosekiller fic #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #barty x evan #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #marauders fic #hp marauders #marauders era

62 notes · View notes

clubdionysus · 1 day

Text

[BAD DECISION #17] Jeon Jungkook

warnings: WELL WELL WELL. mentions of the red witch. post-gym kook. questionable conversations that shouldn't happen between friends, totally normal touching of genitals to prove points in aforementioned conversations, kitchen escapades, whiny koo <3 titty worship, spanking, titty sucking, fingering, a lil mutual masturbation, cockwarming (or at least an attempt!), unprotected sex, jk on top, the starluvrs are bad at maths!, multiple positions (prone bone my beloved <3), he finishes on her back, lovely stuff!! just friendly tho!

a/n: the header image is another lost relic, but this time i can't even remember the base photo </3

soundtrack: just a little bit - enhypen

wc: 11.2k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The soft cotton duvet cover on Jeongguk's bed welcomes you back far more warmly than it really should do; like a 'hi, honey, welcome home' , or an 'I've missed you'.

It's fitting that the inanimate objects of his room carry such benevolence, when he himself is an open log fire on a winter's night. Warm, warm, warm is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been cold, cold, cold for so long that the sudden heat is almost jarring.

That's how you justify the obscure feeling in the pit of your stomach when Jeongguk starts talking about blind dates, and how he always wanted to go on one when he was younger.

He reckons that the only reason that he hadn't was because he's 'a simple man of simple pleasures'.

The hoops he needed to jump through to get a blind date - quite simply just asking someone to set it up for him - had been too challenging. You've alleviated that stress for him.

"See," you smile, folding his bird back up and tossing it over to him. You're both on his bed, staring up at the flock of birds still soaring above you, just out of reach. "We're fulfilling a childhood dream. You are getting something out of this whole deal."

You don't look at him, but you know he rolls his eyes and smiles when he does so. "Never said I wasn't, Disco Ball."

He's met with silence as you glance over at him. It's not an unwelcome nickname, but it's one he doesn't use too often these days. Always calls you Byeol.

"What?" he asks and he turns to face you when you don't reply, but you say nothing.

The more you let it simmer, the worse it gets. He's not called you Disco Ball in so long. Part of you thinks he's reducing your friendship. Addressing you like he did when he didn't know you too well. Creating distance. Forming space on a featherdown quilt that draws you both in like quicksand. He'll have to try harder if a wider margin is what he's after.

It's stupid, 'cause you know the name comes from a place of affection, but it makes you feel insecure.

"We'll still be friends, right?" You ask a little quietly. Jeongguk's brows grow taut, a slight frown forming on his features. Doesn't understand where such a question has come from. "If you get a girlfriend, I mean? We can still be friends?"

Jeongguk's skin is hot. Prickly. An automatic response to discomfort - but then his lips soften into a kind smile. Despite the offence that could be taken from you asking such a question - thinking so little of him - he's not naive to the way in which you work. He understands. People you've loved have left when things got inconvenient for them. He's been through it, too.

And so the walls that want to come up in defence are kept at bay. He doesn't let them rise. Instead, he meets you at the shores.

"Yoongi invited you to dinner," he nudges your shoulder. "Tae is practically in love with you for all the help you've given him. Dionysus relies on you drinking the bar dry every other weekend to keep it afloat. We couldn't stop being friends even if we tried."

His answer should satisfy you, yet your mind is marred by the same thought repeating over and over: Hayun probably used to get invited to dinner, too.

You aren't naive. You know his friends are just as kind as he is. They'd have welcomed anyone Jeongguk deemed important into their social circle.

"What about Hayun?"

Jeongguk frowns. "What about her?"

"Well," you say slowly, looking back up towards the birds, not wanting to watch his reaction unfold on his features like a letter of commiseration.

Before you can even articulate a reply, Jeongguk stops you.

"Don't. It's not the same. Hayun... That situation was different. Things were different. Plus, she's still my friend. Our friend. All of us. She just lives in a different city, that's all. The only reason she isn't around is because of proximity. We're still friends. Just like you and me are still gonna be friends. We've no reason not to be."

The situation is different. You're well aware of this. You've known Jeongguk for all of five minutes; she was a much more permanent fixture in his life. They had a history that you wouldn't even be able to comprehend; private jokes, and stolen moments when they thought their friends wouldn't notice. Their friends. Not just Jeongguk's.

She'd been as much a part of the friendship group as Jeongguk had been; the only difference was that she'd moved away. If she hadn't, would there even be space for you in their lives? Would Seoyeon be desperate for there to be another girl around? Would Jeongguk have felt just as fondly towards you? Would he have noticed your disco ball eyes in the dark of Dionysus or would he have been too busy searching for her in a crowded room?

Or would the time spent on you be spent on her instead?

The thought is unpleasant. It weaves its way through your bloodstream like a needle with dark red string threaded through its loop. It scratches and stabs at your insides until it breaks through the flesh of your bottom lip. Sews your mouth shut. Stops you from talking; from screaming how unfair you think it is that you're being equated to someone who destroyed him.

You don't think she deserves to be thought fondly of, but if Jeongguk knew that, you'd be the one he thinks negatively of. He leapt to her defence without you even starting an attack.

"Friends don't hurt their friends," you say quietly.

Life doesn't work that way. People hurt the ones they care about all the time - or at least you use that reasoning to comfort yourself whenever Seokjin shows up just to let you down.

"She didn't mean to," he replies. "I'm the one who caught feelings. I'm the one who misread things. She stayed the same. My hurt? It's on me, Byeol."

There's a sincerity to his voice that absolves her of blame; makes her innocent in whatever transpired between the pair of them. You know that you only have Jeongguk's side of the story, and even that is sparse and limited due to his reluctance to talk about it in any great depth, but you feel like you don't need to hear her side. He got hurt. That's enough. Your mind is made up.

Hearing him defend her so freely unnerves you. The feeling crawls beneath your skin and gnaws at your flesh. Reduces you to skin and bone.

You're silent, because you know that anything you do say will come across as mean, or as if you dislike a girl you've never met. It'd only make Jeongguk defend her more and like you less. You don't want that - as if Jeongguk wouldn't rip Seokjin to shreds at any given opportunity.

Trouble is, you can't blame him. Jeongguk has seen the impact first-hand. Wiped away tears caused by the man himself.

Hayun is just an enigma; a name rarely said, but often felt.

"What's gotten into you?" Jeongguk smiles, trying to downplay the heaviness of the atmosphere that's engulfing you both. "You're forgetting how annoying I am. You'd probably be thankful if we stopped being friends."

Though he's just teasing, you're worried that he does think that of himself. You don't want to be soppy though, so instead, you use one of his most often said phrases against him.

"I think if we stopped being friends I would simply die."

It earns a laugh. He nudges your shoulder. Tells you that you really gotta stop stealing his catchphrases and the things he does.

"Oh fuck off," you laugh. "What else have I stolen?"

A whole host of things.

"The mirror thing," is all he says, noticing your confusion immediately. He reaches over and tenderly clasps your chin. Doesn't notice the tiny gasp that gets caught in your throat - or if he does, he doesn't mention it. Turns your head, so that you're looking at him, and says " 'watch'. "

You close your eyes and smile. Nod. "Ah. That. The mirror thing. "

"See," he smirks, not that you can see. Your eyes are still closed and they'll remain that way until you decide you're no longer embarrassed. "Told you that you copy me."

"I don't copy," you smirk right back, despite your firmly shut eyes. Jeongguk likes the glitter you're wearing today. It's golden-hued. "Just a fast learner."

"Oh yeah?" he says, a laugh catching in his throat. "Watcha learnt about me?"

You whisper now, a little smug. "That you really like mirrors."

"Yeah," he concedes far more quickly than you expected him to. He turns his focus back to the birds on his ceiling, though you think he's gotten a little closer to you. "Yeah, you're right about that - but you know why I like them?"

"Pray tell," you grin, vaguely aware of the fact the conversation feels far more flirty than it really should.

"You do this thing," Jeongguk says, as a hand rests by his crotch. He's not hard, but he is a little firmer than he should be.

It's just cause he's thinking about sex. Thinking about the sound of it. The sound of you . The sight of it. Of you . The scent of it. You . Not the taste, 'cause you've not given him the luxury of that yet. He doesn't really register the fact he's pressing down on himself. Gripping. Feeling .

"It's that first look," he continues, voice dulcet. "It's like you can't register what you're seeing. Your eyes go all wide, and you look at me as if you're too nervous to look anywhere else. Dunno. Lets me know how much you like what I do. Bit of a power trip, I guess. Always gets me."

"Gets you what?"

"Hard."

The declaration is so brash that you can't help but giggle. "You hard now?"

"Thinking about it isn't the same as seeing it," Jeongguk admits, turning his head towards you - but your eyes are still closed, a smile plastered all over your face. He finds himself smiling, too.

"But I mean..." He toys with your hand. Draws it to the top of his thighs. Gives you the chance to pull away. You don't. "Feel for yourself."

You whisper his name.

He whispers right back. "What?"

"You know what," you tell him, as if your palm isn't right where he left it, and as if your grip isn't as firm as his cock.

"What?" he teases again, feigning indifference - and then he fucking tenses. Moves his hips. Pushes up into your palm. "It's just anatomy, B. Nothing new."

Maybe not, but that nickname? That feels new. Feels like the opposite of him calling you disco ball earlier. Makes your breath hitch. Has him smirking as he looks at your lips. Bites down on his own. Knows this is trouble, but thinks he'd quite like to get in some.

See, you're the determined type. Once you set your mind to things, you do them. He's witnessed it first-hand multiple times. The second he mentioned the art cafe to Tae, he knew you'd make it happen. It's what you do.

And so he knows that you're setting him up that blind date whether he likes it or not. He knows you're gonna choose well for him. He knows, come this time next week, there'll probably be a moral complex that comes with the birds hanging above the pair of you.

But he's not ready for that. Not yet.

There's so much to do.

So many birds that haven't been set free.

A pleasant little hum vibrates in his throat as you palm the firmness beneath his sweats. His hips pulse. You daren't open your eyes - especially not as your thumb brushes against the waistband of his trousers. He hums again. Pushes his shoulders down into his mattress. Adjusts his body. Edges closer to you. Says nothing as your thumb sinks beneath the elastic of his sweats.

It doesn't go anywhere. You wait. His hips pulse.

"Swear you get off on torture," he purrs.

"You're the one who started this," you murmur, trying to feign indifference, knowing full well that if he mirrors your hand position, he'll feel just how easily he gets you all riled up. "You're a sadist."

He just smiles. Tells you he's no such thing.

And so you tell him to keep his eyes closed. Reach for his hand. Say, "Let's compare."

"Compare?" He husks, as if he doesn't know what you're doing.

"Mhmm," you hum, bringing his hand dangerously close to your pussy. "Compare. You're getting off on torture. Maybe I am, too."

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jeongguk says, and yet as you loosen your grip, he's the one who lets his hand trail up your thigh. He's the one who strokes at the fabric of your sweats. He's the one who cups your pussy with his hand.

The top you're wearing has risen up a little, a small sliver of your stomach exposed - and then his thumb is caressing against it.

His touch is warm, but the little gasp he does? The stutter of his breath? Oh, it's hot . So fucking hot.

"We're not doing anything," you say so sweetly that he'd believe it - or at least he would if it wasn't his own damn hand slipping into trousers. A breath hitches in your throat, and you can hear the ethereal way a laugh stutters in his throat.

"Just friendly, yeah?"

You nod. Whimper a pathetic confirmation - and then he's pressing against your underwear. Is slow as he rubs a single circular motion against you.

"The birds are judging us," he tells you.

"Nah," you shake your head. Take a shallow breath as he circles against you once more. "This is just revision."

"Revision?"

"Making sure we've learned from them. As long as - fuck ."

"You good there?" he teases, as if he didn't just up the speed for a moment.

You ignore his question and continue the point that was so rudely interrupted by his pacing. "As long as we only do things the birds have already told us to do, then I think it's okay."

The pair of you are silent save for your tepid breaths. Jeongguk's fingers caress against the lace of your underwear while you palm at his excruciatingly hard cock.

It's all rather juvenile, the way you're just touching each other up - and yet it's got your heartbeat racing. Perhaps it's because it's something so simple. Feels like there's so much more that could come of it. The great unknown: will you make Jeongguk cum? Or will you just blue ball him instead?

He really fucking hopes you'll choose the first option.

"Y'know," he says quietly. "I kinda need a shower."

It's not a lie. He freshened up at the gym, but didn't have a proper shower - didn't think he'd be taking such a long detour home.

"You wanna go shower?"

He nods. "Please."

It's laughable, really, the way neither of you says a word as he guides you to the bathroom. It's a regular occurrence at this point.

You glance across the open-plan living room as you make your way to the bathroom, and smile at the painting hanging up beside the television. Jeongguk follows your gaze and smirks.

"Think a future girlfriend would have an issue with that being up on the wall?"

"Maybe," you shrug. "You never have to tell her what is it, mind you. Never have to say it's... yanno."

"No I don't know, Byeol," he teases. Grips onto your shoulders to stop you from walking, and turns you to face it. Walks you both a little further into the sitting room area. Tilts his head, and you realise there's another bloody mirror in the corner of the room. You've never noticed it before. Wonder if he placed it there deliberately. "What is it?"

You narrow your eyes in the mirror. A smirk rests on his pretty lips and you can't help but bite down on yours when one of his hands creeps up your shirt. The bra you're wearing is lace; underwired but with unstructured cups. He squeezes. Fucking groans. "Shit."

"We shouldn't be doing this here," you tell him, well aware that Jimin could come home at any minute. Even going for a shower together is a risk.

Jeongguk shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

"What if Jimin-"

"If he comes home, he comes home," Jeongguk cuts you off as he continues playing with you beneath your shirt. He wants it off. Takes it off. Faces no opposition from you. Both of his hands cup at your chest, the black lace sin beneath his hands. Your heartbeat heaves in your chest, and it's only made worse when Jeongguk nudges his nose against your hair and whispers, "maybe I'll just show him how to make you cum."

You tell him he's mean. He squeezes harder. Makes you whimper. Tells you he can be mean if you really want him to be.

But you shake your head. "Play nicely."

It's not that you don't like things a little rough and tumble - it's just that if this is the last time, you know it needs to be intimate. How else will you be able to face your fears with other people if you never even let him?

One of his hands trails to the back of your bra, and gently unsnaps the clasp, before ridding you of the lace. As much as he liked it, he likes you bare better. Likes the way your pillowy breasts frame your nipples perfectly. Likes that the soft flesh spills through the gaps in his fingers. Likes how easy it is to get you whimpering as he rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Nice enough?" He husks.

"Nice," you nod, eyes closed, crown of your head tipping back to rest against the top of his chest. "God, Gguk. Think I'm obsessed with the way your hands feel."

The compliment makes his heart fucking race .

He watches in the mirror. Studies the way your lips part as he toys with you. Wants to kiss you so badly. Knows he can't. Fuck . Maybe he does get off on a little torture, but this is just inhumane to him. You can feel how hard he is as he presses into the small of your back. The curse and blessing of sweatpants.

You reach behind yourself to palm at his crotch, and are met with a nod of his head against yours.

"Fuck, B," he whines as you toy with the outline of his cock. "I gotta - fuck - I gotta do something with my mouth. Wanna kiss you too fuckin' bad."

He doesn't even mean to admit it, but now that he has, he feels a little shameless. If he can admit that, he can admit anything.

Maybe he'll tell you about the wet dream he had a few nights ago, and how he'd woken up to damp sheets and a ruined orgasm all because you'd made an unexpected appearance in his dream.

Maybe he'll tell you about the fact he hasn't watched porn in weeks. Just thinks of you, instead.

Maybe he'll tell you about the fleshlight hidden in the back of his bedside cabinet drawer, and how he can't use it anymore, 'cause it doesn't look like you do.

Doesn't look like you, doesn't feel like you, doesn't smell like you. Doesn't get him cumming like you do.

Actually, maybe he won't tell you about that last one - but he wants you to know.

Wants you to understand just how fucking sexy he thinks you are. Wants you to acknowledge that if he can get this wrecked over you, then there must be hundreds of other men out there just the same as him. You don't need to linger for so long on your ex.

There'll be another guy out there for you who doesn't make you feel like shit; who only ever wants to make you feel good. So good. So, so-

"Oh God, yeah," he whines as you finally slip your fingers beneath his waistband and into his trousers. His hips pulse, wanting more, more, more of you. "So fucking good."

"My lips," you husk as his fingers dig into your soft chest. The grip is tight. Needy. "They're off limits."

"Lips," he nods. Clenches his jaw as he tries to control his breathing. Swallows his nerves down. "And the rest of you?"

You open your eyes to find his already on you in the mirror. He's hungry. Wanting. Salivating. He looks fucking primal, as if he's fighting every instinct he has just to keep your boundaries respected. Makes you wanna break every single one of them down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, just so your nose can nudge against his, you realign your faces. His lips are pouty. Pink. Pretty. Perfectly out of reach. Yet when you nod, they brush against yours tenderly. You don't let it happen again. "Be specific."

God, his cock is too fucking hard to be playing games like this. He wants to curse you out. Wants to be fucking mean. Wants to tell you to stop being a little bitch and just let him have his way with you - but he promised he'd play nicely.

"Every inch of your skin," he says, 'cause he is actually a little too nervous to ask so politely for what he really wants.

Has been wanting it for weeks.

It's something new, to him. Something he's only ever asked for once, and it was in the heat of the moment. A moment quite a lot like this.

You smile. You know what he really wants. "That's not specific."

"But it's the truth."

Jeongguk always gets a little like this when he's riled up. A little needy. Whiney. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it, but you know that sometimes he misspeaks. Says things he never would do if he wasn't desperately after a release.

You never think he's lying, but you do think what he wants in the heat of the moment isn't always what he wants with a clear mind. This is one of those moments.

You purr, a little satisfied with how easy it is to get him like this. Feels like you're in control - so Jeongguk rolls your nipples between his fingers again to get you moaning. Realigns a sense of power. It's endless with the pair of you; a back-and-forth of control. It works well. Too well.

But he's feeling brazen, now. Feeling bold. Isn't nervous to tell you what he wants anymore, because the way your body reacts to his touch lets him know that you'll like it.

"Your tits, Byeol," he says. Your eyes fall to his in the mirror. He's looking directly at you. Notices the way your chest begins to heave a little heavier. Smirks. "If this is my last chance to..." he pauses. Is almost ashamed of what he wants.

"Last chance to what?" You flirt.

You bitch. You're teasing him just because you can. It makes him throb. The motion of your hand stroking above his underwear is making his cock all fat and leaky. There's a damp patch on the front of his briefs. He's ready to fuck. Wants to fuck.

But before that? Before he can even consider sinking himself into you?

He (regretfully) pulls one of his hands away from you, bringing it to meet your hand in his trousers. He (even more regretfully) pulls you away. You pout. He smiles.

"C'mon," he says, pulling on the hand he's just removed, leading you into the kitchen area. Will clarify it for you later.

The boys have an island that acts as a divider between the two spaces, which is exactly where he's taking you. The clothes he took off you are left by the sofa, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only: leveraging you into a better position.

You yelp a little as he dips to pick you up, gripping the back of his neck without hesitation.

"Don't be a pussy," he grins, popping you down on the island counter. "Although now I come to think of it -" he lifts you again, getting to your feet. The way his mind darts from thought to thought, and how his body acts upon them without warning, makes you laugh. He sinks his finger into the waistband of your sweats. Pings it again your skin. "Off."

"Say please," you demand, just to be a little difficult.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please," he says, eyes dark as he towers over you, his hands coming to cup your chest once more. The man's obsessed, you think. If he could read your mind, he'd tell you that you're correct. He is. "Take your trousers off."

"Why?"

God, he hates that shit-eating grin of yours. Hates that he can't kiss it away.

And so he decides he's not gonna entertain it any longer. He grabs your hips. Spins you around. Bends you over the island, a single hand gripping the top of your thigh, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades.

"What's the word, Byeol?" He asks, checking that you're on the same page.

"Chess," you reply a little breathlessly. This lack of control is something you're used to with him. He's never overtly dominant, always looking out for your needs first and foremost, but this feels... yeah this feels different. This is about him.

And it makes you far more excited than you ever realised it would.

His hand trails down your back. Strokes at the line of your spine. He admires you. Takes note of the dimples just above your ass. Knows he's in trouble the second he starts squeezing at one of your cheeks. Still an ass guy.

He yanks the material of your sweats down past your ass. Fucking groans when he sees the black lace thong that sits prettily over your ass. Glances over to the bra by his sofa. Groans yet again. Yep . A matching fucking set.

"Fuckin' vixen," he mumbles to himself, not really intending for you to hear it. Isn't sure if you had planned on getting laid today, but you're definitely dressed for it. As he grapples with the flesh of your ass, he notices just how smooth your skin is. Well moisturised. Coconutty.

Maybe you had taken extra care in the shower that morning. Maybe you had shaved your entire body. Maybe you had been wearing a new two-piece.

That doesn't mean you were planning on letting him see. Just means your self-care routine is coming along fabulously. Well done you.

There's a bruise on the top of your hip. Jeongguk's thumb brushes against it. Doesn't apply any pressure. A small noise chirps from his throat, questioning it.

"Pole," you remind him a little breathlessly. "Gentle with my legs, they're covered in bruises."

He nods to himself, and says, "Use 'chess' okay? Hey, look at me a sec - 'chess'. Okay? Even if it's just your legs. Don't wanna hurt you."

You're looking at him over your shoulder with a smile. His sincerity is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You want him to hurt you.

"Notice how there are no bruises on my ass?" you ask, to which he nods. You face away from him again, and sink back into the position he originally had you in, chest pressed to the counter. "Good. Change that."

He thinks he might cream his pants right there and then.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."

"Oh no," you pout, voice all soft and sweet. "Wouldn't that be a shame?"

Jeongguk grapples with your ass. Caresses it. Knows you're not done talking, so is buying time. Wants to hear how you'll tease him. See how riled up it''ll get him.

"If you die, I'll just have to fuck Jimin again."

The crack of his palm against your ass is electric.

Your body jolts forward, Jeongguk's grip on your hip to keep you stable no match for the impact of his flat palm. Skin on fire, chest heaving, you giggle. That's all he's got?

"Y'know," you tease, and Jeongguk is pleased that you sound a little breathless. He strokes at the skin he impacted, soothing the sting. Likes that goosebumps are already forming. "He took me from behind, a lot like thi-"

He doesn't even let you finish this time before the sting of his spank is delivered. It's harder than the first one, but his hand is also far quicker to soothe this time around.

"Yeah," he husks. "I fuckin' know."

You can hear his breathing, now. You're both panting a little.

"Does it bother you?" you ask as he tenderly cares for your reddening skin.

"Be specific," he speaks boldly, a little unlike himself, and you're starting to understand why he's an ass guy. Your tits make him weak. This? The way he's got control of your body? Makes him strong.

"That I fucked Ji-"

The way he cuts you off with another domineering slap to your ass gives you his answer - but so does the way he not only soothes the skin immediately afterwards, but also how his other hand comes to rub the bottom of your spine, following the path of its curve. He's cherishing. Worshipping.

He leans forward as his hand trails up your spine so he can reach your neck, and tenderly clasps it to he pull you back up. Turns you around. Is gentle as he lifts you back into position on the counter.

Brushes your hair out of your face. Looks you directly in the eye. Uses this thumb to collect a rogue chunk of glitter from your cheek. Rubs it on his arm. Stains himself in you.

"It doesn't bother me," he says - not for any male sense of bravado, or acting 'chill' - but because he needs you to know it isn't a big deal. You've enough complexes as it is. He doesn't want you to ever feel shame for the things you've done. "Bothers me that he doesn't realise how lucky he was to get a pussy as good as yours. Bothers me he didn't finish the job. Bothers me that he actually got to fuck you," he grins. You grin right back. "But it doesn't bother me that it happened."

"Mm, so you won't share towels with him, but you'll share girls?" You tease. His hands toy with your chest again. Secretly, you think you like him better like this. Like it when he's weak.

"Am I sharing you?"

It's a loaded question, you think.

"Not right now," you whisper, reaching to his waistband, nose nudging against his. "Take these off."

"Say please," he whispers right back. One of your hands tangles in his hair. Pulls him away. Gets him looking into your eyes.

"Please."

How can he refuse? It's like you put him in a trance whenever he sees your disco-ball eyes. He'll do whatever you ask of him.

He takes his trousers off first, then says "shirt?"

You nod. He takes that off, too. Leaves them crumpled in a pile on the floor. Doesn't care for them at the moment. Only cares for you.

"I still need a shower," he says, as he closes the gap between you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"We can still get one," you tell him. Honestly, you don't really mind what you do with him. Just know that you wanna make it last. Want this feeling of safety and security for a little while longer.

His arms rest on your shoulders. Just a little taller than you in height when you're sitting like this, Jeongguk likes looking at you from this angle. Likes seeing the variations in your glitter; the small chunks and slightly bigger flakes that make you seem cosmic. He likes noticing the flecks caught on your lashes, and how he never realised quite how long they are. He doesn't think you're wearing mascara.

You're not - but you did get your lashes done the week before. He wouldn't give a shit even if he knew. Would think it was cool, probably.

"So about that whole no-kissing thing-"

"Nope," you laugh, swatting at his clammy chest. He smirks. Presses his lips together. Shakes his head.

And then he whines. "It's so unfair."

"If you even try, I'm yelling chess."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," you assure him - only for him to edge a little closer.

He's not actually going to kiss you.

Although... if you let him, he might.

"Chess!"

"Ughhhh," he whines again, pulling away. "So mean, disco ball."

"What if I promise to make you cum?"

He narrows his eyes. "Fine."

One of his hands drops to your chest again. Keeps on coming back. Can't resist. Ass guy? Yeah right.

The other drops to your underwear. Toys with the lace.

"Bird revision, right?" Jeongguk asks. "So we can only do things we've already done?

You nod.

"Okay," he whispers, before pulling away from you. "Hold that thought."

You watch as he walks around to the kitchen sink, his thick cock tenting in his underwear, desperate for something. Anything .

And yet your birds?

All focus on you. You've no idea how the fuck you're gonna get him cumming. Sure, there was the mutual masturbation one, but you'd promised that you'd be the one making him come. Maybe there's room for loopholes.

It wouldn't be the first time the pair of you have skirted the truth of what a bird could entail. A bird, a plane. Whatever.

Hands under the water, Jeongguk's focus is only on cleaning himself. He preens you so often, fixes your hair, your glitter, that it's nice seeing him in the same capacity but for himself. Realistically, it's all for you, still.

He glances up. Looks a little bashful.

The distance reduces the pair of you to your natural states; just Jeongguk and his Stargirl. He gazes at you often, but it's different when he's blinded by the light. With a little space, he's reminded of the fact you belong on this earth, too.

It's like the pair of you are tangled up in a Jekyll and Hyde situation, instead, it's who you are when your clothes are on, versus when your clothes are off. He likes both of them. Doesn't think they can coexist though.

"What?" he asks when you smile at him. You just shrug and shake your head.

"Weird isn't it?"

He comes to stand in front of you again. Your legs don't wrap around him, but he does put his palms on the top of your thighs. Looks pensive as he asks, "What is?"

He's grinning, too, though. His skin is getting all prickly again. Can smell your arousal. Wants to fucking drink it.

"You 'n' me," you shrug, letting your arms snake around his neck. You're sat up straight, and the gap between your chests closes. "Like, I was maybe 15 seconds away from kissing you." The admission makes Jeongguk want to die. "But then when you were washing your hands..."

"I was just Jeongguk again, right?" He assumes. You nod. "Same for me. Like we're two different people: who we are when we're horny and who we are when we're 'normal'."

"So fucking weird," you laugh, deciding that it solidifies what a great friendship you have. Convince yourself it's gonna make it so much easier when he starts dating. If you can separate the Jeongguk you mess about with and the Jeongguk you're friends with, then there's no reason the friendship should be lost.

"Too weird to pick back up where we left off?" He says quietly. Nudges his nose against yours. Strokes his hands up your back. Pulls his chest away so he can sneak his hands to your tits once more. Squeezes. Makes you moan.

You shake your head. "Do it again."

He does.

Is firm, as he does so, his large hands cupping your chest so delicately that you almost want him to be rougher - but you like it when he's gentle. Like how well he takes care of you. His thumbs stroke across your hardened nipples, toying at them, getting you all hot and bothered.

You moan so subtly that Jeongguk thinks it might be his favourite sound in the whole entire world.

"You wanted specifics earlier," Jeongguk says under his breath. "I can give you a specific."

You nod. Trail along his bottom lip with your thumb. Let him press his lips down against it.

"Show me," you tell him. He squeezes at your chest. You know exactly what he wants. You also know he's never done it before. "My tits, huh? You wanna suck on them?"

He swallows harshly. Rests his forehead against yours. Nods. Can feel his cock throb.

"Big boy words," you whisper, and are met with a slight grunt from Jeongguk. He's used to being the one in your position. Used to setting the pace, setting the tone. You switching it back around on him? Fuck. He might just die. Or cum in his pants. One of the two. Death would be preferable. "Tell me what you want."

He rests his head on your shoulder. Looks at your tits as he plays with them.

"Not much of a teller. More of a doer."

He's just trying to weasel his way out of it. It's like the birds all over again.

"So do it."

And to your surprise, he does.

His lips are firm as he presses a kiss around your nipple. Once, twice. A third time. Poutier and poutier with each kiss. He's delicate. Sincere. Doesn't wanna get it wrong.

"Feels good," you tell him, knowing he needs the reassurance.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile. Tease at his hair as his lips wrap around you again. The way his lashes splay on his cheeks is art, you decide. "You've no idea how much I like this."

His lips kiss and kiss. It takes a little encouragement - "use your tongue a little. Yeah. Yeah, like that. It feels so good when you do that. Suck a little- oh fuck. Yes." - but it doesn't take long for him to gain confidence. Be a little bolder. He focuses on your reactions. Notices when your breath hitches everytime he runs his tongue around your nipple. When he kitten licks, too. But when he sucks? That's when the jackpot hits.

Your body leans into his touch, hand resting on the back of his head. His name escapes your lips half a dozen times. When he switches to your other nipple? Half a dozen more.

His lips are direct and purposeful and they tug your nipple into his mouth, his moans vibrating around you. Pulling away, Jeongguk wastes no time. Has your other nipple in his mouth almost immediately. Squeezes your tits together, nipples almost touching so he can swipe fast licks across them. Gets you mewling. Whining. Begging for more.

And how can he refuse?

His hand dips to your pussy. Toys with you over the lace, which is sodden with your arousal. He slides your underwear to the side, and says nothing, just continues sucking on your tits as he sinks a finger into you.

"Shit," you curse. The angle you're sitting at means he can't get too deep. Means he's hitting you in just the right spot, straight off the bat. He mumbles something, but you can't work it out. Just know there's no possible way he's an ass guy. Hasn't spent more than a second away from your tits since he first started peppering them in kisses. "Just like that."

Your head lulls back, and Jeongguk finally pulls away. "You good?"

He's met with the most satisfied laugh he thinks he's ever heard. "Is water wet?"

"Dunno," he grins. "But you are. Fuckin' soaked. God," he stares down at your pussy, stuffed with two of his fingers. "I fuckin' love this cunt."

You smirk. Roll your hips as well as you can in the position. He watches, transfixed by the way he's stretching you out even with just two fingers.

"My bed," he rasps. "Can we? I know I need to shower, but - fuck - I just gotta have you in my bed, B."

Truthfully, you're glad. There's something about post-gym Jeongguk that just really gets to you. You think it's the pheromones. Don't care to google it because you enjoy the mystery.

You nod. "Probably for the best. You have to eat off of here."

He smirks. Withdraws from you. Says, "So?"

And then he licks his fucking fingers clean. Eyes on yours. One of his brows tweaks. Challenges you.

"You underestimate how much I like eating pussy," he says, as he walks away, leaving you in a state of shock.

You think his departure is for dramatic effect. In reality, it's just so you don't see the Cheshire cat grin on his face, pleased with himself for what he just did. He knows it was hot - but he's smiling because he can't get over the way you taste. Fucking delicious.

That thing about torturing himself? Yeah. You might be right.

Eating pussy isn't on the birds. He knows he can't have it - and yet when you arrive at his door, mouth still ajar, both smug and surprised in the same expression, he thinks it might not be unfathomable.

"What?" he feigns innocence - but he's got a grin that tells the tale of a valiant hero. He's so pleased with himself that you almost slip back into your 'normal' selves again - but then you crawl onto his bed. All fours. Ass a little red from his hands earlier, but no bruises. Just that barely there thong he thinks belongs in a museum, and evidence of just how turned on you are showing between your thighs.

The smile of his? Replaced with a stare so hard it rivals his cock.

"What?" you feign innocence now, as you flop down onto his bed - and then he gets the luxury of seeing your tits and - fuck. It's all too much.

He walks over to the bed. Takes off his underwear. You do the same.

"I'm gonna die," he tells you with absolute certainty. He's so ridiculous that you can't help but smile all fondly at him. The way he jokes and banters with you comes so easily, that part of you doesn't even realise he's naked. Part of you does, though. Mainly your eyes, given the fact they seem to be transfixed on his cock. "If we don't do something about this-" he gestures down to his cock, as if you need any direction "- then I absolutely will just die. Is that what you want? Huh?"

"Mhmm," you hum, finishing it with a small giggle and a nod, reaching for his hand to pull him onto his bed. He lets you. Follows your lead, cause he hopes it's leading him somewhere good. "I want you dying a very little death."

The innuendo dances off your tongue and into his ear as you sit on his lap. His hands automatically find your chest. He decides he'll miss them. Encourages your body down. Positions you just right so that he can take your tits in his mouth again. He's a changed man.

"Don't think there'll be any little about it," he mumbles as he switches sides, kitten licking now so that he can finish his sentence. "Think it's gonna be a very big death, actually."

"Shit," you whisper as he gets reacquainted with your body. He decides all rather quickly that tits are a gift from God and he's been blind for his entire life up until he met you. How had he not been utterly obsessed before? He'll never admit it. Never. Will prevail as an ass guy - but fuck, he hopes whoever you set him up with has a good pair of tits.

But then there's an uncomfortable awareness of how fleeting this all is. By the time you've both finished, it'll all be over.

He manoeuvres you both over. Kisses your chest, now. Works his way up to your collarbone. Your neck. Bites down ever so gently. Kisses again. Tells you once more how your no-kissing rule 'will kill' him.

"Better leave me something nice in your will," you tease as he finally pulls away from dappling your skin in pretty kisses that you wished could have been on your lips instead. Either pair.

He sits back on his heels. Strokes his cock as he looks at you. Tilts his head, a smirk rising on one side as you cup your tits.

"Pussy," he encourages, pulling a little tighter on his cock. "Play with your pussy."

You give him a quizzical look, but do as you're told. Slide your fingers between your slick folds. Spread yourself for him. Watch as he almost fucking hisses. The pace he's wanking himself off increases. His breathing shallows. You think it stops completely when you sink two fingers into your entrance.

He curses. Tilts his head back. Ruts his hips upwards. Forces his cock through the tight grip of his hand. There's a sheen to his tip, precum leaking so delicately that you find yourself salivating at the sight of it. The muscles in his lower abdomen tense. He's edging himself.

"How many birds do we have left?" Jeongguk rasps, eyes opening to find yours again. The way he speaks, all breathless and needy, has you wanting more. "Mutal masturbation's done. I can't... Shit. I can't. I'll cum if I carry on. Tits are done. Fingers, done. What else?"

"Shower," you say, then follow it up with. "Do that last. Water gets in the way. Wanna watch you cum."

"Shit, don't say shit like that," he mewls as he sinks down on top of you. His body is warm, the chain around his neck catching on your throat, pooling between your collarbones. Has you determined to make him finish on your chest. Wanna replace his chain with his cum.

In a normal scenario, he'd kiss you right now - but he can't. Instead, he averts his desire. Grips his cock. Presses it against your folds. Spreads your slickness. Covers himself in it. Dips down a little too far. Curses. Gets you whining.

"You know," he husks against your neck. "We could..."

"Cockwarm?" You simper. "Don't believe that one was my bird?"

The crown of his cock presses against you. Jeongguk holds it as the base, and runs it down your folds, then back again. He repeats. Lets his grip get even tighter when he lines up with your entrance. He waits for you to move your hips.

And you do. Just for a moment. Just a tad. Just enough.

"Wasn't it?" He hums, knowing perfectly well it was one of his.

"Don't even think it was a bird," you whisper a little breathlessly as he presses a little deeper against you. He adjusts his hips. Lines himself up a little better. Your breath hitches.

"So you don't want to?" He asks, and you can just tell he's got one of those smiles on his lips. The one that makes you think maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad. "'Cause I wanna."

"Gguk," you whisper. He shakes his head.

"Not an answer."

"Shit," you whimper, rolling your hips ever so gently to encourage his tepid ruts against you. "Condom?"

"Birth control?" he chances. He knows you're on it. Think if he's gonna get his cock in you, then he's gonna at least try for it raw.

You know you should, and yet - "Are you clean?"

He nods. Asks the same back. You nod. Haven't hooked up with anyone but him since your last test.

Everything is out in the open. There's nothing to lose - just the knowledge that you'll maybe never get this ever again. It only serves to make you want him raw even more.

"You get a minute."

He pauses. "A minute?"

"Sixty seconds," you nod. "Cockwarming. That's all you get."

It's ridiculous, 'cause all you want is for Jeongguk to fuck you senseless. Think it's embarrassing admitting that, though. What if he doesn't actually want to fuck you? What if it's just for the birds?

"Who's counting?" He husks. Realigns himself. Presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Plugs it but doesn't push forward. Makes you wanna die. Too good. Too fuckin' good.

"You are," you whimper, knowing you won't be able to keep count when he's inside you.

He nods. Reminds you that 'chess' is always an option.

His cock sinks into you slowly. It's thick and wide, angled just right to hit your sweetest spots. Jeongguk groans. Finds himself seeking out your tits with his mouth as he bottoms out. Sucks gently, until he's reminded by you that he needs to be keeping count.

He grins. Nibbles your nipple ever so gently, then nods. "You're right, you're right. Sorry. Shit. One. Two..."

Jeongguk finds solace in the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around him. The position has him thinking you've no right to ever complain about intimacy again. This is about as fucking intimate as it gets. And when your arms wrap around his neck? Dainty fingers start toying with his hair? Only amplifies it.

Your hips move ever so tenderly, and he loses count. Finds himself swearing again. You're tight and warm around him, just how he wanted it. Torture. Fucking torture. He likes this so much he fears you ruined actual sex for him.

"Shit," he mumbles against you. "Never been good at maths."

The way you giggle? Torture. Again.

"You're a liar, Jeon Jeongguk," you whisper tenderly, tensing around him just cause you liked the way it made him whine.

He pouts and shakes his head, which is still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he asks, "What comes after 32?"

And because you're just as into it as he is, you decide lying is okay for the time being. "11."

"Yeah," he whines. "Thought so. Eleven... Twelve... What's next?"

"Dunno," you whimper breathlessly. It's getting a bit too much for you, too. "Maybe ten?"

"Ten," he echoes. Decides he wants to spend eternity inside you. "Eleven..."

He pauses just long enough for you to know exactly where he's going with this - so you beat him to it.

"Maybe it would be easier if you had a rhythm going?" you simper.

"A rhythm?" He hums. He was just gonna pretend he couldn't do maths again.

"Like..." you pull your hips back a little, burying yourself deeper into the mattress and away from him - but then you push them back up. Jeongguk fucking whines. "One."

You pull back, again. Jeongguk whines, again. Sinks himself back into you. "Shit. Two."

"I'm not good at multitasking," he says. Not a lie, admittedly. Gets distracted too easily. If you don't keep count, he'll just fuck you forever or something stupid like that. Doesn't think he'd mind it, to be honest. "Maybe you should keep count."

"Mhmm? You want me to count for you?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Count for me, B. Make sure I don't go over sixty."

"I'll count backwards," you tell him, thinking it will somehow take longer, because apparently all sense of sanity is evading you. Unsurprising. All you can think about is Jeongguk's fat cock and how it's keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. "Countdown."

"60-0?" He clarifies, to which you nod. "Mhm. Do that. Count backwards. Use that pretty little head of yours."

"Sixty..."

The way he pulls out of you is maddeningly slow. He's deliberating taking his time. Overindulging. Making this last. He's even slower as he pushes back in, filling you up as deep as he possibly can.

You're barely able to get the next number out.

"Fifty-nine," you eventually manage as he bottoms out. "Fuck."

He's lethargic in the way he moves. Slow as he withdraws, and even slower still as he fucks himself into you.

"Fifty-eight..."

Jeongguk's skin is hot. He sticks to you like glue. Only his hips move - but so do yours.

You're fucking.

You. Are. Fucking.

And, God, you know you shouldn't. You know that it's a recipe for disaster, but Jeongguk's aftershave smells like safety and his bed feels like home, so the prospect isn't scary.

"...Forty-two... Forty-one..."

Your whines are getting louder. So are his grunts. You grip onto his biceps, and begin to realise Jeon Jeongguk is not a man. He simply cannot be. Not when he is built like a Greek God, and looks like one too. Crafted from marble, there's no possibility he's real.

And even if he is real, you think there's no way he'd actually be fucking himself into you like he is.

Sex, at its very basic fundamental value, is all about survival of the fittest. Anatomy. Breeding. Shit like that; things you can't quite recall when he's balls deep inside you. It's about fucking for the survival of the human race, and out of everyone on the planet, you can't wrap your head around the fact he'd choose to do that with you. His basic anatomy would choose you .

Jeongguk isn't thinking as intensely as you are.

Fucking. Nice feeling. Cum. Nice. Inside her. Nice. Fucking. Real nice. Glitter. Nice. Tits. Suck. Nice. More. Fuck. Nice. Again? Nice.

But he is also thinking about spilling himself into you, and how fucking unreal it would feel.

So maybe your brains are working in tandem. Different process. Same end goal. He just can believe he'd choose you, 'cause, well... he already has.

Eventually, you hit thirty-three, then thirty-two, and then -

"Shit," you whine. "That damn thirty-two."

"What about it?" He asks a little curiously. Pauses his hips until he gets the go-ahead from you again.

"I've forgotten what comes after it."

"Shit," he grins, playing along with you. "Start again?"

"Maybe," you nod. "But this time, maybe go faster? Might jog my memory?"

Jeongguk smirks. Sits up on his heels, cock still buried inside you, knees on either side of your ass. He grips your waist. Spanks one of your tits, then softly caresses it as an apology for letting the intrusive thought win. His hips pulse gently.

He's fucking you.

Jeongguk is fucking you.

He lets the hand that was playing with your chest trail down your torso until it reaches your pussy. It's swollen and needy, just as much blood rushing to your clit as there is to his cock. His thumb presses down right when it needs to. Rubs in tiny circles as he gently thrusts into you slowly.

"Faster?"

You nod.

"Okay," he rasps. "Let's jog that memory of yours. You're so smart, Byeol. Look at you, and your pretty little head. So smart. So fucking smart when my cock's inside you."

This time you don't count. He grips your waist. Rams himself into you like a man possessed, lips resting ajar as his brows knit together all prettily like they did when he was eating brunch. So incredibly focused, and yet there's not a single thought up in that gorgeous head of his, just that he's fucking you so hard his neighbour will definitely be able to hear his bedframe hitting the wall. Good .

The noises he makes are lewd. You think he'd make bank with an only fans. Know that you'd pay good money for it. With a cock as pretty as his? A body like a marble statue? Gorgeous little whimpers when his cock is all needy for you? Yeah, bitches would go wild for him.

Funny, how you refer to them as bitches, almost like you're jealous over imaginary women who'd find him sexy. Very strange, indeed.

After all? You're just friends.

His pace eventually eases, and you pretend like you were counting the entire time. "Two... One... Times up."

Jeongguk sinks back down, hooking one of your legs over his elbow as he does so, opening you up even further. He wants to be deeper. As deep as he possibly can be. Wants to press down on your cute little tummy and feel himself inside you.

"Whoever fucks you next better worship your pussy," he mumbles, pressing kisses up your neck. "So fucking good. Shit. If you dare fuck another guy who doesn't make you cum like you know you deserve to cum-"

"You'll what?" you tease, a smile plastered all over your face. "Die?"

He laughs. Shakes his head. You know him so well. "What use would that be? Nah..."

Jeongguk pulls away from you again. Withdraws himself fully for the first time. Watches your pussy as your arousal seeps from your tight cunt and onto his sheets. Wants to lick it all up. Doesn't think he's allowed to, though.

Instead, he moves your legs, finally noticing the extra bruises from pole. You were right. They do look like watercolour bruises.

He squeezes your thighs together and uses his gentle hands to twist your hips, so that your legs are curled to the side, but keeps your back flat against his bed. He lines himself up with you again. Grunts as he sinks into you. You're tighter now, like this. He thinks it's gonna make him cum. He has to go slow.

"I'd get you like this," he says, holding onto your hip and pushing deeper, deeper into you. He nods over to his desk and smirks. "And that chair over there? That's where they'd be. And they'd have to watch me fuck you how you like it."

He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself fixated on the fact you routinely have sex and don't finish. He can't wrap his head around it. He'd had the luxury of witnessing you cum a handful of times. Had felt it once. Knows first-hand how fucking good it is. Thinks about it as he fucks into you, now, then lets the intrusive thoughts win again as he begins to ramble.

"Can't believe how many people you've let get away without making you cum. You know how good that shit is? Fuck. You feel like heaven. They wouldn't even deserve to watch it - but I'd do it. I'd make them fuckin' watch - 'cause not being funny, B, but you should see yourself right now. So fucking hot I might die. Hopefully then if they fucked you again, they'd know what to do."

"Never realised you were such a good teacher, Mr Jeon," you tease.

He stills his cock inside you. Smirks. Shakes his head. Picks up the pace again.

You know what ' Jeon ' does to him. The ' Mr ' ahead of it? Yeah. Gets him.

And so gives you a friendly threat, as he fucks his cock a little deeper into your tight, warm cunt. "I will fuck you so hard my bed breaks if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Oh?" You grin, trying not to moan and failing miserably. "Would you prefer Sir ?"

"Final warning," he growls, his hips slowing but deepening. He's close. You know it's not gonna take much.

"Whatcha gonna do? Give me a detention?"

"If you get to call me stupid fuckin' names, then I get to kiss you."

"Kissing isn't very friendly, is it?"

"Byeol, my cock is inside you."

"Yeah? Just a friendly fuck."

He knows you're joking, but Jeongguk doesn't think there's anything friendly about this.

He doesn't insist on kissing you any further.

"You're unbelievable," he smiles, easing slightly before reaching for your hand. "C'mon, let's make you cum."

"Oh? You want this to be over?" You flash a grin, as if you haven't been fucking him for God knows how long by this point, knowing full well he could have cum in 10 seconds flat at any given opportunity. He repeatedly edged himself for you.

"No, but if I don't cum soon, Byeol, I'll d-"

"Die, yeah yeah," you grin. "Alright. Put yourself out of your misery."

He laughs. Looks at you with such fondness that you think you'd quite like to orgasm on his cock for him like a good friend should. "You make me sound like such an asshole."

"I don't," you promise sweetly - before you also decide to let the intrusive thoughts win. "Also, just on the subject of assholes, thoughts on pegging?"

"Literally what the fuck is wrong with you," he laughs, rolling his hips to remind you of the more pressing things at hand. You moan a little, but all you wanna do is banter with him. You enjoy it. Like it when he's all hard and needy and impatient, and you're winding him up. You like frustrating him.

"You've got a nice ass," you shrug, shoulders pressed deep down into his white sheets. You look angelic, he thinks, hair haloing around your head, chest flushed, tits covered in teeny tiny hickies from his mouth.

"Well, maybe if you'd have picked a different plane..." he teases. "You'd know by now."

Holy shit.

"Wait. You wanna get peg-"

Jeongguk covers your mouth with his hand, a subtle grin on his pretty little face, dewy nose scrunching just for you.

"As much as I enjoy your chitchat, Byeol, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't talk at all. That good?"

You laugh. Twist your torso over to reposition yourself on your front. He gives you a playful spank straight off the bat, and it makes you roll your eyes - as if you hadn't turned over just to give him a view of your ass. You'd known what you were getting yourself in for.

Adjusting you slightly, Jeongguk pulls one of his spare pillows over, and lifts your hips to scoot it beneath you. It's his favourite position. Every last part of it. The way he can pull on hair and spank asses? The muffled moans into his pillows? Fuck .

You love it just as much. Always helps to have your body weight adding to the pressure of your fingers massaging against your cunt. As Jeongguk pushes into you, he watches your hand slip beneath your body, and curses.

"That's it, B," he husks. "That's a good girl."

He fucks himself into you - slow, deep, hard - and picks up the pace with every pathetic moan that escapes your lips. Tells you how good you sound, how much he wants to hear you come undone - and then you are.

The pleasure waves through you like an electrical current, Jeongguk's thick cock unrelenting as he fucks into you and drags your high even further than you thought possible. There's a numbness to your body, save for the overwhelming pleasure that pulses around his cock. It's all you can feel. Everything else is void. For a moment, the only important thing in your life is Jeongguk's dick and the way it fills you like nothing else ever has.

"Shit," he husks. "B, where?"

"Back," you just say, unable to move because your body is still fucking shaking. You don't even get the chance to mourn the loss of his cock inside of you, because he has to pull out so quickly.

His hand grips his cock and wanks faster than the speed of light. The pressure in his balls builds and builds and then it can build no more.

He squeezes your ass and whines as thick, creamy spurts of cum begin to paint your back.

The sound of his grunting makes you moan with every new rope of cum emptied onto your skin, and Jeongguk's pretty sure nothing in Taehyung's 'passion' collection could even come close to the sight in front of him.

The final drops are wasted on your ass cheek as Jeongguk holds it to the peachy flesh, watching the way he stains your skin. Holding his cock by its base, he spanks it against your ass once, twice. Smirks. Takes a moment to squeeze your ass just because he can.

He fucked you. He knows he should be concerned about the friendship, but he's not reached post-nut clarity yet.

Eventually, he flops down beside you.

"You know," you mumble, eyes closed, a smile on your lips. Jeongguk's grin is so serene that it's a good job your eyes aren't open. You might accidentally get your feelings confused if you saw him look that pretty. "I actually think it's a bit mean setting these poor girls up with you."

"What? Why?"

He sounds genuinely affronted. You just smile harder.

"Well, it's a bit cruel, isn't it? Us pretending like they'll be dating some great guy, only for them to later find out you're really average in bed."

He knows you're joking. Knows that a fuck like that could never be described as average. Plays up to your teasing just because he finds it funny.

" Average ?!" He exclaims. You can hear his smile in his tone of voice. "Nah, you're chatting shit just to piss me off, Byeol. What is it, huh? Want me to fuck you again? Want me to remind you exactly how average I can be?"

"Maybe."

He grunts. "Call me when you can walk straight."

"Pass me my phone."

"Fuck off."

The afternoon descends into casual chaos. You shower together, and bicker over who gets to stand beneath the water for longer, then battle it out for Jeongguk's fluffy towel in the aftermath. In the end, he lets you have it - only 'cause he likes the way you oogle at him when he's naked.

You dry your hair, and style Jeongguk's into pretty little French braids. Tell him that he has to keep it like that. He says he will. By the time Jimin gets home, you're just sitting on the sofa watching shite TV. He's none the wiser you were naked on his kitchen counter a few hours earlier. Probably is best he never finds out about that part.

He studies Jeongguk's hair for a moment, then shrugs. "Suits you. What have you guys been up to?"

Good fucking question.

"Not much," Jeongguk hums. "Gym this morning. Met this one -" he pokes you with his foot, earning a grimace from you. "- Afterwards for coffee. Been stuck to me like a bad smell ever since."

Jimin laughs. Shakes he his head as he comes to sit by you both with a box of dry cereal that he's eating straight from the bag.

"You've got the most sensitive nose known to man," Jimin teases. "If you've kept her around, it's cause she smells good."

"Nah," he begs to differ. "Just gone nose blind."

"Prick," you laugh, then ask Jimin about his day.

Conversation takes place of the shitty TV show, the three of you easily finding a million different topics to talk about.

It's times like this you regret ever fucking Jimin. Part of you fears you'll always just be 'the girl Jimin fucked that one time'. No identity within Jeongguk's friendship group beyond the fact you shagged his mate.

It's stupid. They barely remember Jimin even so much as looked in your direction. You're Jeongguk's friend. Jeongguk's.

Funny how you don't seem to mind being reduced to no identity outside of the confines of Jeongguk. Did you really heal after Seokjin? Or are you just making even worse decisions than you used to?

Thing is, Jeongguk's friends would be right in thinking that of you.

You are his friend.

As you head off into town the next morning to arrange his blind date, you know that's all you'll ever be.

And somehow, you think you're okay with that.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader

66 notes · View notes

evansbby · 20 hours

Note

Okay since we’re sharing our DILF experiences let me join the girlie circle. Please don’t judge me on the first sentence of my experience because it’s not as bad as it first sounds 😭

I … I slept with my ex boyfriend’s dad … THIS WAS FOUR YEARS AFTER MY AND I BROKE UP AND HIS DAD AND MOTHER DIVORCED WHEN HE WAS A CHILD AND HIS DAD AND I WERE BOTH SINGLE AT THE TIME PLEASE I’M NOT A TERRIBLE PERSON 😭 Plus I was 24 at the time and he was 49, this was in February

When I first met the DILF back when I was with my ex I had thought he was handsome in an innocent little ‘oh so that’s where my (then) boyfriend gets his looks from ☺️’

I broke up with my ex a couple months during the first covid lockdown and four years later I was at a bar and the DILF was there too and we remembered each other and shit he’s really handsome and we ended up sitting sides pressed against each other his face so close to mine it was a mutual leaning into kiss each other, I couldn’t stop myself 😩 I know it was so wrong like that’s my ex boyfriend’s dad but in that moment I was doing it for the plot okayyyy like hey he’s a handsome single man and I was a single woman so yeah I continued to make out with him

Then I let him take me to his place and I went 48 hours without wearing any clothes literally he took me to his place Friday night and I spent the entire weekend up until Sunday night in his bed / sofa / kitchen counter and only put my bra and dress back on the Sunday night I headed back home (he ripped up my panties so I never saw them again, really hot but kinda sad because they were really pretty panties 🥺). Best 48 hours of my life omfg I don’t regret it 😩 I know it’s sounds awful like my ex’s dad but we were both single and he had me seeing stars and CRYING from how motherfucking goooood he did me, I yeah …..

I have never ever everrrrr told anyone this because I know how terrible it sounds, I haven’t even shared it with my best friend, this is the secret I’m taking to my grave (we all have that one thing we’ll never tell another soul) but it feels nice to share it in some form as a kinda get it off my chest thing

Okay girlies this is fun sharing our spicy personal stories hehe it’s like we’re at a sleepover 🩷

girl why are you feeling guilty?! it was four years after your ex and you broke up, this is completely fine LOOOL

but also not you living your ultimate y/n lifee OMFG I am so jealous fr😭😭

Not you arriving on Friday night and not leaving till Sunday night 😱😭 NOT PUTTING YOUR CLOTHES ON TILL SUNDAY NIGHT AJHHHHDJDJSJSJSDJ girl this man made you see stars omfg YASSSS

And I totally get doing things for the plot and this is like the juiciest plot everrrrrr omfg I love this for you!!!

#anon #wow lmao #YALL ARE REALLY OUT HERE WITH THESE MOVIE PLOT LIVES SOFJDJSKSKSK

77 notes · View notes

curiousgworge · 3 days

Text

꒰‧⁺ (I think I) talk too much*ೃ༄

*ೃ pairing: kim jongseob x reader

word count: 0.9k (923)

warnings: i guess none, but let me know in the comments

One of Jongseob’s biggest problems was that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for his dear life.

And that is since he was a child: how many fights his parents didn’t have because they said something that Jongseob heard (and shouldn’t have) and repeated (something he also shouldn’t). He did it when his father was planning a surprise trip for his anniversary, and Jongseob told his mom, ruining it (they still traveled tho, so he didn’t fuck it all up); He did when, at 11 years old, he told all his cousins that Santa wasn’t real in the middle of Christmas dinner, making them all cry and ruining the holiday (this time he did fuck it all up, and badly).

His inability to be quiet was also an issue at his school: more often than not, his parents would have to sign teacher’s notes about the way he would talk non-stop during class; his friends liked it tho, ‘cause he always had some juicy gossip to share (but when word got out that the girlfriend of the football team’s captain was being cheated on by him, Jongseob got beat up ‘cause snitches get stitches or some crap like that).

But it wasn’t really his fault: Jongseob just loved talking. He would chat with the nice old ladies in the market and the cashiers, the new and old students in his class, and also the teachers and the janitors and the lunch lady. He would talk to everyone, about almost everything: the weather, his new favorite anime, the latest basketball game and, as he grew older, politics and new recipes to make when you live alone and your mom doesn’t cook for you anymore.

Now, as an adult, Jongseob got better at controlling his tongue, even if every now and then his friends had to kindly and lovingly ask him to just shut the fuck up. It wasn’t as big of a problem in his life as it once had, but sometimes it came back again to bite him in the ass. Like right now, and honestly, it was all his fault.

Jongseob has had a crush since the beginning of college, when you sat in front of him during some class you shared. For maybe the first time in his life, he became speechless, mesmerized by you. It’s not like you were dressed to impress, but something in the way you were so focused in whatever the teacher was saying, biting your tongue as you took notes and barely blinking made him forget he should also be paying attention, his focus solely on you.

Later, that came to bite him in the ass, ‘cause his grades were just as terrible as they could be; maybe ‘cause he spent half of his time staring at you, watching you watch the class, and the other half he would spend talking his ass off with Haku Shota, his best friend.

However, he wasn’t so sure if Shota deserved that title anymore, not when he saw that he was, in fact, waiting for him at the library for a study session, but you were also there, apparently to help both of them (even if Soul’s grades were great). The only issue was that, apparently, Jongseob was incapable of speaking with you: he would blabber and become a blushing mess, and hearing your giggles he would just become more of a mess (much to Shota’s disgust).

It took a while actually, but as Jongseob’s grades got better, his ability to speak in front of you also did, but he still passed as the shy little boy only you thought he was: he would ask you about your weekend and excitedly listen as you described the Spy x Family marathon you did, make terrible jokes just to hear you scoff and laugh and blush terribly when he realizes that he accidentally did a monologue when you asked him how to play Genshin Impact. So, with all of that, it came as a surprise to you when he asked you out.

And you became even more surprised at how much Jongseob was talking.

Sure, people get nervous, but this was a whole new level for you to see: he was sweating buckets and babbling senseless stuff, he couldn’t for his dear life talk about any topic fully, changing them as quick as he thought of them. After a while, he looked in your eyes and suddenly he realized how crazy he was being, and started laughing his ass off (which made you laugh just as hard as him), making people around you at the restaurant start looking weird. At that moment you got up and reached your hand to him, who gladly took it and you both left, leaving a 50 dollar bill in the table to pay- generous tip included-.

-I’m sorry I ruined our date- Jongseob said after a while, breaking the silence between you as you’re walking down the street- So like, if you want to leave and never talk to me again I will totally get it, I’ll kind of resent you but I’ll get over it eventually but I really wanted us to work and I want to be you so bad, maybe forever but not like forever you know-

He couldn’t even finish his line of thought- not that he had one- because you kissed him, and for the first time in his whole life not only he wasn’t talking, he wasn’t thinking at all.

-You’re adorable but boy, you do talk too much.

#p1harmony #p1harmony x reader #p1h imagines #p1h x reader #jongseob x reader #p1h scenarios #p1harmony imagines #p1h jongseob #kim jongseob #p1h #piwon #piwon x reader #piwon fluff #piwon imagines #jongseob #jongseob fluff #jongseob imagine

52 notes · View notes

les-pompiers118 · 3 days

Text

Isabel Díaz attends a wedding

Because we'd all like to know why she turned up there, out of the blue, and ABC isn't saying...

"So Chimney's feeling a bit better, now that the meds have kicked in, and he wants to get married right away," Eddie tells Christopher and his abuela as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. "Like, in an hour."

"In the hospital?" Chris asks. "Is that allowed?"

Eddie laughs. "I'd like to see anyone try to stop them now. Or Bobby. He told us he's always wanted to officiate a wedding as a fire captain. He's not about to miss his chance."

"Well, I guess we should be going then." Abuela holds out her hand to Eddie, so he can help her get up from the couch. "You don't want to be late for the wedding. Twice."

"Very funny," Eddie says. "We'll drop you off at Pepa's house, if that's what you want, but you know you're welcome to make yourself at home here. We won't be gone long. And they'll probably kick us out when visiting hours end, anyway."

"No, no, Eddito. I'd like to come with you to the hospital."

"You want to come to the wedding?"

"As long as your friends don't mind an uninvited guest." Abuela slips her arm through Eddie's and looks up at him with a dreamy smile. "I love weddings. I never turn down the chance to go to one. And at my age, I don't think anyone can begrudge me that."

"Definitely not. I'm sure they'll be happy to have you there." Eddie starts for the door, but stops after only two steps and pivots around. "Abuela, did you... plan your visit to L.A. for this particular weekend for any special reason? Say, a wedding?"

Abuela's eyes sparkle and Christopher muffles a giggle with his hand.

"Maybe I just missed my boys," Abuela says before giving Eddie a wink and dropping her voice to a stage whisper. "Or maybe I had a hunch that this wedding was going to be a special one."

"If by special, you mean cramming into a hospital room with no food or music, you'd be right."

"Oh, mijo, don't you think I know how things always seem to go for you and your friends? Never have I known a group of people with such topsy-turvy lives. Cruise ship sinks. Girlfriends move in, girlfriends move out. They should make a telenovela about you all."

Eddie huffs a grudging laugh. "I suppose we should be happy there wasn't an earthquake today, on top of everything else."

"It's not too late," Chris sings. "They're not married yet!"

"Okay, okay," Eddie groans, ushering them both towards the door. "Let's go, Díaz family."

Abuela claps her hands. "To the wedding!"

#911 abc #911 spoilers #diaz family #isabel diaz #eddie diaz #christopher diaz

50 notes · View notes

michaela-o · 2 days

Text

Hello guys.❤️

I just wanted to update you on why i'm not really active anywhere, discord, tumblr nowhere, is because i'm going through a very hard and toxic break-up right now..

WARNING: Toxicity, Attempt of se**al a**ult, gaslighting ( if you feel uncomfortable reading about this please don't read )

Sadly, to realize all of this toxicity, took me 2 years because i was too blinded by love and the desire to feel loved, apreciated and i was blinded by trying so hard to see the best in that one person...

Only NOW i realized what everything i let him do to me without me even knowing about it...i was letting him get control over me, i was letting him guilt trip me, i was letting him gaslight me, i was letting him make me feel like my body wasn't even mine, i was letting him make me believe that having emotions is bad, i fucking letting him make me believe that everything THIS was okay..that i deserve to be treated that way...that i deserve to be left alone when i cry too much..

He would always get upset if i told him i was going out with friends through the weekend when i came back from the dorms, he would get upset and leave to go home if i cried for a little longer than he liked, he would get upset when i told him that i would like to change stuff in our releationship, he really had no friends ( which i felt bad for but was not my problem but i was willing to help him out ) to go out with and when i told him i'd like to go for a walk when was pretty outside he'd say he thought we would be together and not wasting time outside..

Even after all this HE told ME that I'M the toxic one..that when i expressed what i think is wrong, when i told him what bothered me about him, he said that i was using my emotions to controll him..

But now i will set my foot down and i will no longer tolerate ANY of this and i will stand on my spot. I told him that if his behaviour continued things won't be looking okay with our releationship. He started to cry and tell me that i'm scaring him, that i know where his weak spots are, that this isn't me, asking me if he's really that bad to deserve those words..he tried to force me to take it back..that we would stay together forever..(god that fucking stings..)

But not anymore..

BIG thank you goes to my dear roommates at dorms and friends Lea, Silvia, Emma, Adrian and another Lea. These are people that have stayed by my side the WHOLE time even if i cried a bit too much. Even when i talked a lot. I owe them so so much. These people have helped me to finally open my eyes and to finally see my own worth...i'm very hurting right now because i really loved him and i know he loved me aswell but he was NOT self aware and was not going to admit and acknowledge his mistakes..and saying sorry for only the sake of peace? And then doing it again?.. it is not my responsibility to explain that to him..i think i was doing that for long enough..

Thank you if you made it all the way down here❤️ and lissening to my story. I apologize for the inactivity but i'm feeling very stressed, scared and lost right now..he wants to meet eith me today but i just don't want to..i need time..this wound is very fresh and bloody and i think it's going to be healing for a long time..

Thank you again❤️

- Michaela-o

(P.S. sorry for the tags)

#transformers #transformers headcanons #digital art #transformers x reader #small artist #art #procreate app #yandere transformers #transformers mtmte #mtmte rodimus #sorry for the tags #venting #letting go

42 notes · View notes

ofallthingsnasty · 17 hours

Text

tw: workplace harassment, mental illness, gn reader, make sure to read the last paragraph as well characters: Crocodile, Doflamingo word count: 1k

While I may be suffering from "I'm a total newbie and scared shitless of my boss" disease + an anxiety disorder, this would be so perfect for either Crocodile and Doflamingo.

Just think about it… You just started working for one of them - and both men certainly demand respect, can be quite scary when provoked, but you think you can weather any storm that might be coming your way. You’re grown, you’ve got bills to pay, they’ve been professional enough so far, it won’t be too bad, right? Oh, stupid, stupid you - because they can smell your little authority figure issues ten miles upwind.

Both notice that you're green, easily impressed and hurried by their presence, notice how sweaty your hands and furrowed your brow gets - and both definitely corner you; try to get you into a frenzied state, right into panic mode just because it’s fun to see how you slowly fly off the hinges. They both toy with you in their own ways - Crocodile is just always standing behind you, silently watching, only the smell of smoke and his cologne telling you he's right there, looming over your shoulder. He enjoys the way your hands shake with whatever it is you’re doing, how you cough and shift around while he does absolutely nothing. His mere presence makes you so antsy he doesn't even have to say something and his silence is easily interpreted as criticism and mistrust by your anxious little brain. It only gets worse when he never talks about his little staring/surveillance sessions, never explains why he randomly shows up at your desk or workstation, never asks you for a word afterwards - you always feel like you’re not good enough, that no matter how long you’ve been by his side, he needs to check up on you. He’s an imposing man, too - so much bulk and smoke, just the thought of him asking you for a vis-a-vis keeps you up at night. And every day, every week spent fretting over him and his perception of you (coupled with the fact that you really, really need this job) makes you more and more insecure, makes it hard to unwind after yet another long day, makes you overanalyze every single glance, every word and move of his. He slowly creeps into your after-hours, your conversations with friends, your weekends, even your vacations. And he can tell. Crocodile notices the slight, subtle changes. The way you smooth over your clothes before talking to him, how you place an index and middle finger over sternum as if to shield yourself from him, the fucking cold sweat shining on your forehead whenever he does question a decision of yours with a gruff bark. The way you avoid his eyes, stumble over your own feet in a hurry, the way he can see that you sleep worse and worse - that’s how he knows he's got you hooked, fully and wholly. That all you're thinking about is him and work and pleasing him and being good at work and again, him and work and him and- Your job is the only thing in your life now, from the moment you wake up to the time you lay your head down to sleep, everything is consumed by thoughts of him and his opinions about you and your abilities, always aiming to please and so, so nervous to fail. It’s perfect.

Doflamingo is way more vocal about it. He'll throw your work right back into your face, all sneers and acid tongue. It’s just not enough, never enough, reflects badly on him, on his company - whatever it is you do, it hails nothing but criticism and mockery and late nights to fix your stupid mistakes. He doesn’t even give you moments of rest, he just constantly picks on you until you’re seriously considering just resigning for your own mental health. He’s methodically destroying your self-esteem, makes you doubt your own abilities - you know you shouldn’t let him creep into your head as much as he does, but when all you hear is that you’re so fucking bad at your job, how much you suck - it sticks. You’re so stressed because of him you almost have a panic attack over putting your two weeks in and despite your suffering, you keep procrastinating, keep telling yourself you’ll do it tomorrow, when you have had a full night’s sleep. Problem is - you never do. He can tell by the way you’re idling, fiddling with the straps of your bag whenever he comes in for the day that you’re trying to leave - but that you're simply too scared of his reaction to pull the trigger. And that right there; that fear, that pedestal you put him on is the perfect breeding ground for all sorts of unethical things he can push you to do for him. He starts out small; things like getting him coffee in the mornings when you never did that before, a too-warm, lingering hand on your shoulder, a comment about your outfit - every little thing is calculated, tailored to slowly destroy your boundaries while you fear him more and more, give him way more authority over your life than you should. He knows it’s psychological, that someone else might be able to flip him off and leave without ever thinking twice about him. But you… You have accepted him as the one part of your life everything hinges on - you give him all that power in your sick little brain. Oh, he’ll use it well. The fun has only just started, rest assured.

And while Crocodile gets to click his tongue, scoff and tell you that he'll take over from now on because clearly - you're just not capable and you obviously need him (not only at work but also in your whole life, silly), Doflamingo taunts you and tells you to make yourself useful, then, if you can't even do your job right. Maybe sucking his dick is your true calling - come on, let's see if you can do at least one thing right. One man wants to take your life over completely, sees you as the malleable (perfect) mess that you are, with all the potential that comes with it - and the other just wants to fuck you up for the next decade of your life, wants to be reason you wake up in the middle of night because his vicious smile still bounces around in that head of yours

#crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #one piece x reader #ah... if only crocodile decided to fuck me up and make me worse.. only for him to swoop in and use it as an excuse to wife me up... hmmmm..#/crocodile #/doflamingo #/one pice

26 notes · View notes

natsuslover · 1 day

Note

ur account is so cutee !!

do you have any erasermic headcanons? (*^^*)♡

aww tysm! 🫶

and ofc i have erasermic headcanons they’re so chaotic i love them so much. i didn’t know if u wanted platonic or romantic so i just wrote platonic bc i have more hcs for that 😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ platonic erasermic headcanons ੈ✩‧₊˚

notes— i’m rewatching mha rn so i’m actually really excited to write all these mha headcanons

ft. shota aizawa, present mic (idk his real name)

warnings: very light spoiler in one of them i think

present mic gossips about the students ALL. THE. TIME. (mostly complaining or like random tidbits of tea but it’s harmless) to aizawa but he doesn’t really pay attention lmao.

except from time to time when mic says something that’s so clearly not the truth and aizawa just has to correct him.

when mic asks aizawa how he knows so much about the students aizawa’s like “they just tell me” which gets mic somewhat ticked off because the students never go to him for anything lol.

when aizawa’s teaching class present mic just randomly pops in from time to time to “shake things up”

he blatantly interrupts the lecture and goes up to the podium and gets all sentimental while dramatically retelling the students stories of his and aizawa’s high school days.

meanwhile aizawa just whips out his sleeping bag and uses the time to take a much needed nap.

really i think present mic does that on purpose because he KNOWS aizawa doesn’t sleep enough so it’s his own way of caring.

both of them just sit and reminisce about their high school days every once in a while because they want to remember the good things about shirakumo :(

aizawa’s not the most sentimental person (at least he doesn’t show that side very much) so present mic is one of the only people who gets to see aizawa when he’s really emotional.

they’re literally the grumpy x sunshine, golden retriever x black cat, opposites attract trope.

aizawa always pretends to be annoyed or exhausted by mic’s presence but everyone knows that’s not true.

despite acting like he doesn’t care he’s actually really appreciative of present mics friendship.

aizawa often goes through tough times with all his students (especially izuku, shoto, and katsuki) getting dragged into situations because he cares and worries about them, and present mic is there cheer him up and reassure him that everything will be fine.

present mic has a really optimistic outlook on life which usually uplifts aizawa’s pessimistic attitude.

whenever it comes to lesson plans both of them help each other out to the best of their abilities because neither of them enjoy planning stuff out.

honestly, i feel like even though they were friends in high school, their bond truly got stronger when they started teaching and because of their students.

random but one time in high school present mic dyed aizawa’s hair blond while he was sleeping at a slumber party.

the next morning aizawa woke up to mic’s relentless giggling, looked in the mirror, and was too tired to even care his hair was yellow lmao. he just looked at mic like “seriously dude?” and continued to wash his face.

but when present mic looked in the mirror he noticed that aizawa lowkey looked better than him in his signature hair color and immediately ran to the store to find black hair dye to dye it back.

after all, there’s no way he’d live it down if aizawa started pulling more girls than him…

unbeknownst to everyone else, aizawa and mic have super smash bros competitions every weekend (mic’s idea obviously)

aizawa wins

every time lmao

mic gets super pissed off about it because aizawa’s not even trying like 95% of the time and he’s STILL unbeatable.

present mic hates olives and aizawa doesn’t mind them, so whenever they get food with olives in it, mic spends time picking out EVERY olive and puts them in aizawa’s food.

they both like spicy food but while present mic is huffing and puffing and hakahajcahak-ing through his food, aizawa doesn’t even have a single drop of sweat on his face.

whenever they want to skip a teacher meeting, they use each other as excuses.

like “oh shit mic just uh… fell off a mountain i have to go help him brb” or “damn looks like eraser broke his foot gotta go check!”

they’re both dedicated teachers but sometimes those meetings can get sooo tedious.

aizawa often has to help present much grocery shop even at his grown age because man does NOT know how to shop like an adult lmao.

aizawa’s telling mic how he needs more onions because he ran out but in a split second the entire cart is filled with an entire year’s worth of snacks and junk food.

one glare from aizawa and poor present mic is putting back every single food item that he got lol.

mic is without a doubt the yapper of the duo.

like bro doesn’t know when to shut up and aizawa just goes along with it because that means he doesn’t have to talk as much.

actually aizawa’s like zoned out the whole time but present mic doesn’t really care he just likes that he can talk without interruption.

both of them are such opposites it just works out somehow and i really love that for them.

ok so this is really rushed and def not my best work but my brain is so fried rn i can’t think of anything so i hope this works 😭 i’ll definitely do more erasermic hcs later on when i can actually think tho.

#mha headcanons #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #shota aizawa #eraserhead #present mic #erasermic #aizawa headcanons #anime #mha anime

24 notes · View notes

danganphobia · 2 days

Note

i think because laios and shuro’s clashes in personalities it’s unavoidable that they will fight during their relationship. who do you think would be the first one to reach out first after a fight? (this is just an attempt to make you write angsty hurt + comfort laishuro)

DRABBLE INCOMING!

Toshiro wasn't sure how many beers he had tonight. He sat next to other patrons, the number of guests dwindling as the hours passed. He just wanted to get so drunk he wouldn't have to experience a sober thought until the next morning.

This bar was quiet, two blocks away from their university campus - compared to the ones on the flashier side of town where most students went on Friday and Saturday nights to party hard and forget about responsibilities for the weekend.

For Toshiro, beers sounded more tempting than any club to wash away the stress of exams and back-to-back assignments.

When he asked for another refill, his vision started to blur. Next thing he knew, he heard another voice within earshot.

"He's been here for the past three hours."

"Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"Uh, that's kind of you, but he's already paid for the whole night."

"Then I'll tip you extra."

Toshiro groaned, facepalming. He didn't have to look to know who it was that just showed up. Laios leaned his body against the counter, trying to peek at his face.

"Kabru said you'd be here."

Saying nothing, Toshiro finished his last beer.

Laios' carried him back to campus on piggyback. It's silent, save for the occasional cars driving through.

"Why did you come?" Toshiro asked stubbornly, the alcohol he drank made him lightheaded. If it weren't for Laios, he'd be unable to walk - but the idiot didn't need to know that. Just two weeks ago, Toshiro remembered storming out of that party Namari and Kabru invited him to, with Laios following after him, asking what his problem was, and everyone outside looking on in curiosity.

"My problem?" Toshiro had asked, sneering. "Don't you see it? This - we - doesn't work! I'm sick of it! All I ever get are stares when I tell them-"

"You're with me," Laios finished with a bitter nod, stopping Toshiro in his tracks. "If you're that embarrassed to be with me, why didn't you say so?"

That was the killer. When Toshiro noticed the eyes on them, Laios staring right at him with disappointment and hurt, Toshiro decided to admit defeat. He had only given a sour apology, leaving the party without another word.

They hadn't talked to each other since then. Toshiro stopped coming to club meetings because he didn't want to risk running into Laios, and unfortunately, Laios was always present. It was fine, their campaign could go on without Toshiro considering where they'd left off anyway.

"Why did I come?" Laios repeated the question, exhaling as he contemplated his answer. "I don't know, actually."

This was why Toshiro couldn't stand him sometimes. He was a very logical person. This was how he was raised, otherwise he'd never be fit to be heir of his father's company. Laios Touden didn't need a reason to do the things he did.

"I don't get it," Toshiro mumbled. This should make him a walking red flag, after all. This was the guy who was known for smoking pigs at clubs, did kegstands at frat parties, and could squirt milk out his eyelids for the hell of it. He was the kind of guy that would make a pristine rich kid's parents like Toshiro's have a heart attack if Laios told them what he'd been up to. They were polar opposites; someone Toshiro would've avoided if it weren't for their mutual friends. "After everything I said to you, you still came to see me."

"Yeah." Laios said, like there was nothing odd about it. It only pissed Toshiro off even more.

"Why?"

"I can't just leave you there. What if you passed out in the middle of the street?"

Toshiro snorted, scoffing. "You are aware that I practice martial arts?"

Laios laughed. "I don't doubt you can probably kick my ass while drunk. Then again, you didn't." Instead, Toshiro was clinging to his back, Laios' cyprus scent calmed him, as it was so welcoming. He hated that. It should make him nauseous if anything. "I can't say for any other stranger that would see you this vulnerable."

"I can take care of myself," Toshiro huffed. "You shouldn't have come."

"I don't care if you're mad at me, because I've already forgiven our fight."

"That's - that's preposterous -" Toshiro sputtered in defense, "Why continue to torment yourself by being seen with me?"

Laios chuckled. "Who said being with you was tormenting?"

Toshiro stayed quiet.

"You might think so, so I'll just have to prove myself to you. Lucky for me, I don't really care what people think," Laios explained, pausing at a stop light. Toshiro's eyes widened when Laios turned his head slightly with a gentle smile. "And you shouldn't either."

Toshiro's heart pounded in his chest. The traffic sign flashed - as Laios was permitted to cross the street.

"Yeah, you were an asshole at that party. But at the end of the day, it doesn't change my feelings for you. I think," Laios sighed, "if you like someone, if you really really like someone, you should let them know as much as you can."

Toshiro reached for Laios' ear and tugged on it.

"Ack!" The noise Laios' made in pain just made Toshiro pull on it tighter until he let go. "What was that for?!" He asked, pouting.

"It's easy for you to say," Toshiro said bitterly. "I've spent my whole life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I don't just do impulsive, stupid things out of my own free will. Which is why - I don't even understand why I have feelings for you, either..."

"Toshiro..."

"I am not worth this trouble. You misguide yourself."

"That's not true," Laios countered in earnest. "Tell yourself that all you want, but to me, you're worth it."

Silent and brooding, Toshiro buried his neck deep into the crook of Laios' shoulder to hide the scarlet in his cheeks.

Laios was like a leech that wouldn't pull himself off Toshiro even if Toshiro tried.

And he'd never admit how nice it felt, to be around someone who didn't expect much from him; just his presence, so they could exist together in a world so unpredictable. The air felt easier to breathe the longer they remained, just being.

#dungeon meshi #laishuro college au #laishuro #van writes #asks #hurt comfort is my jam #i just had to write the infamous fight scene at a friend's random party and the make up that comes after #theyre kind of 10 things i hate about you coded if you think about it #i hope u enjoyed this drabble anon! thank you so much!

22 notes · View notes

jimraisedmeup · 2 days

Text

TICK // 19.1 - cover me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, violence, sexual content)

Word Count: 2100

A/N: we are nearing the end of book one. are you ready? also, this chapter is nothing but DRAMA.

☾

The times are tough now, just getting tougher This old world is rough, it's just getting rougher Cover me, come on baby, cover me Well, I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me

☾

May 19, 1984 - junior year

Richard Buckley was quite relieved when his boss told him they had finished the out-of-town job ahead of schedule, a day early to be exact. He missed his home, his recliner, his bed.

And if he was brutally honest, the idea of leaving his two daughters alone for an entire weekend made his neck hurt.

He was sure that Robin could be trusted. But as of recently, he didn't trust you as far as he could throw you. Especially with that Munson gremlin and the hold he had on you.

Richard had already engaged in several discussions with his ex-wife about moving you to Indianapolis to set you on a better path. The last thing his family's reputation needed was his eldest daughter hanging around a drug dealer's son, or worse, getting impregnated by one.

Richard's eye twitched violently as he wondered if the Munson boy had set foot in his home while he was gone the night before.

This became a mild paranoia turned reality as Richard merged onto his street, only to find an unusual amount of cars in front of his house. Young adults roamed amongst the vehicles, some of them on his front porch.

"What on God's green earth…" he grumbled to himself, already feeling his blood beginning to boil.

Parking his work truck in front of the neighbors' house - as his well-manicured driveway was full of cars - Richard Buckley stormed down the sidewalk towards his home. It was quite obvious that there was a party of some sort being held.

He passed teenagers, but couldn't tell exactly who they were in the dim light of the street lamps. Richard caught some of their wretched conversations as he passed by.

…did you see the look on his face?... hell of a party, man… Carol is so drunk!

Not even ten minutes earlier, Richard was content. He was calm, he was ready to relax after spending most of his day on the road.

And now he was about to have an aneurysm at the sight of a crowd of strangers in his home. Most of them were clearly drunk, laughing and yelling to each other obnoxiously. Music blasted throughout the rooms. No one seemed to notice the sudden appearance of an irate adult.

Another thing he did not expect to find was a banner hanging from the kitchen cabinets. The brightly painted paper held cartoonish flames with the words "CONGRATS PYROMANIAC!" spread over them.

Edward. Munson.

Robin was nowhere to be found. Richard roamed room to room, finding no one he recognized and neither of his two daughters. Did you take him for this much of a fool?

Heading upstairs, he barged into your bedroom, which was the closest door to the top of the stairs.

Empty.

So he moved onto Robin's.

His youngest daughter was inside, placing a shiny black record onto her record player. One of her girl friends laid casually on the bed, flipping through a magazine. But Richard couldn't find anger in him towards Robin.

The thing that truly angered him was that you were still missing, and the look on Robin's face when she saw her father told him that all of this was indeed your doing. Robin was merely a bystander. Most likely manipulated by her toxic older sister.

"Dad? You're back early." Panic spread across her freckled features. She failed miserably at concealing the beer bottles behind her.

Richard gripped the doorknob, knuckles white. "Would you mind telling me where your sister is? I need to have a word with her."

"Uh… no, I haven't seen her in a long time. Maybe she's in the kitchen?"

"I was just in the kitchen. Robin Buckley, you tell me where she is. Right now."

Richard could feel his face reddening more, if that was even possible. He would need to visit the cardiologist after this.

He remained firmly in the doorway, blocking Robin from trying to leave and give her sister a head's up.

Stuttering a response, Robin waved her hands frantically. "I-I… the front porch?!"

"I've looked everywhere besides…" and then he knew.

The basement.

Ignoring Robin chasing him down the stairs, and then further down the basement stairs, Richard was the bull in a cheap china shop. Fury flooded his senses and he could barely hear Robin's pleas to stop.

Of all the things that occurred that fateful night, the last thing Richard Buckley wanted to see in his home, in his laundry room, was this.

You were bent over the dryer, your dress pushed up past your hips. Eddie Munson stood behind you with his pants visibly undone, mid-thrust.

It was the final straw for Richard Buckley.

☾

Now, promise me baby, you won't let them find us Hold me in your arms, let's let our love blind us Cover me, shut the door and cover me Well, I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me

☾

Eddie was approximately eight beers deep when a balding, red-faced man literally caught him with his pants down.

Prior to the rude interruption, the brown-eyed boy was having the time of his life.

The surprise party was a mixture of some of his favorite things: irony, his best friends, beer, and the best of all… you did it for him. Even though he had been kicked out of school not even a week before.

The sarcastic paper banner congratulating him for setting Higgin's car on fire was the best part, and not even the presence of some unsavory members of the popular crowd *cough* Harrington *cough* could ruin Eddie Munson's high that night.

All good things must come to an end, though, which Eddie knew all too well.

And the one thing that could surely ruin his high was your father walking in on him railing his daughter from behind against a fucking dryer.

And then Eddie's high was completely obliterated when he felt a sucker punch collide with his jaw, sending him backwards against the concrete basement floor. All he could do was scramble to get his pants up, protecting his bits and pieces from the insane man.

You were screaming something, but Eddie could barely hear you over the shouts coming from your father and then the tearful appearance of Robin in the doorway.

His vision was spinning from the hit to his head, mixed with shock and the alcohol in his system. Richard Buckley came at him again.

"You motherfucking piece of trash, Munson! I'll have you arrested-"

"Eddie, no!"

But Eddie was never one to make good decisions.

He swung a sharp left hook at Richard Buckley's face, knocking him out immediately. And then Eddie pushed past the distraught sisters, spitting blood from his mouth onto the pretty pastel yellow wall before bolting up the stairs two at a time.

...he ran, because Eddie had never thought of himself as much of a hero.

You caught up with him as he approached his van. "Eddie, please!"

"Your pop's a real fucking gem, you know that, Buckley?"

Tears ran down your blushing face, your eyes blurry from crying and the multiple shots of cheap vodka you had. One of the straps on your dress had fallen off your shoulder. Eddie wanted to fix it, to touch you, but the coppery taste of blood in his mouth reminded him of how fucking pissed he was.

"H-he wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow night. I had no idea he would come home early!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Eddie hissed, not caring how mean he sounded. "Obviously you didn't know. Give me a damn minute to cool off, will you? My jaw is fucking killing me."

Spitting more blood onto the sidewalk, you flinched at his crude behavior. For a second, Eddie felt ashamed at how selfish he was being.

Sure, he got punched in the mouth. He got caught with his dick out by his girlfriend's holy roller father. He had to abandon the party that was thrown for him.

But what about you? What kind of consequences would you face after this? You had to live with the psychotic Buckley man, for Christ's sake.

The sudden shouting of said psycho made you and Eddie jump. Richard Buckley was standing by the front door, arms outstretched, screaming for everyone to vacate the premises.

"Listen, I'm getting the hell outta here before he calls Hopper. I don't need any more heat on me this week."

You reached towards him, your eyes pleading. "I'll leave with you. Let me come with you."

Eddie's temper softened at your drunken desperation, unable to hold any kind of ill feelings towards you for very long. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, realizing then just how much his knuckles hurt from hitting the older man.

"Call me tomorrow. I'll come pick you up then, alright? But you can't just leave Robin in there by herself tonight."

"Are you sure?"

Chuckling, Eddie used the short sleeve of his white t-shirt to wipe more blood from his swollen lips. "Sunshine, don't you worry about me one bit. I can take a punch, unlike your dear ol' daddy."

This made you smile, albeit a nervous smile. "Do you have your gift? Did you leave it in the house?"

Eddie gestured towards his glove box. "I got it."

"And remember, don't open-"

"Yeah, yeah. I won't open it 'til tomorrow."

You kissed him roughly before running back towards the house. He watched as the skirt of your dress flowed behind you.

Eddie drove off, never thinking for a second that it would be over a year until he would see those beautiful eyes again.

☾

Outside's the rain, the driving snow I can hear the wild wind blowing Turn out the light, bolt the door I ain't going out there no more

☾

"I've already spoken to your mother. As a matter of fact, I called her a few days ago regarding this matter. My decision is final."

You felt your world collapsing around you.

Head pounding from your hangover and an unreasonable amount of stress, you almost couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Robin spoke quietly from the doorway. "Dad, we shouldn't be making rash-"

"Go to your room, Robin! This does not concern you." Richard slammed a hand down on the kitchen counter, glaring at his youngest daughter as she scampered away like a scared puppy.

Turning back towards you, his face was emotionless. "Go pack your things. Your mother will be here soon. She left Indianapolis early this morning, called off work, to deal with this."

So you were facing exile. Complete banishment.

Before you even had a chance to call Eddie that day, your father disconnected the phone in your room. You were no longer welcome in the Buckley home. Your mother would be taking you to Indianapolis for the summer. You would complete your senior year of high school away from Hawkins.

Your options were pathetic and sparse. You weren't eighteen yet - your father had already threatened to report you as a runaway if you fought against it. Richard Buckley also had the balls to say he would report Eddie, who was eighteen already, for taking his underage daughter.

You laughed bitterly when he said this. "Could you be more dramatic?"

But your father was hellbent. "Your actions recently have been nothing but a path of destruction. Your behavior last night was repulsive and a slap in the face of God. I can't have you continuing this. And I can't have you dragging your sister down with you."

"Excuse me? Has the whole situation with Kate been swept under the rug?" You only dug your grave deeper, fueled by frustration. "Maybe it's better if Robin came with me. I don't think either of us need to be here anymore."

"Are you really going to take your little sister away from her friends? From her future with the marching band?"

Your father knew how to hit you exactly where it hurt.

You felt nauseated suddenly, and stepped towards the phone on the kitchen wall.

"I disconnected all of the phones when you woke up. Now, go pack your things."

"Let me call Eddie," you spat, your hands trembling in fists at your sides.

Richard scowled at you. "To say what? He's a doomed individual. If you keep letting him chase after you, he will never focus on his own future, and you'll only condemn him further."

A car honking outside yanked you from the impulse to scream obscenities at the man before you.

"Upstairs. Now. Don't make your mother wait too long."

About thirty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of your mother's car, watching Hawkins pass by with teary eyes like it was some kind of distant memory.

☾

This whole world is out there just trying to score I've seen enough, I ain't gonna see any more Cover me, wrap your arms around me, cover me

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Cover Me" by Bruce Springsteen)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

taglist: @siriuslysmoking@emesis-nemisis@ishouldclean@thegirlblogstuff@insert-geeky-things-here@melonmonstereater@well-be-okay-dear-valentine@mewchiili@maridevial @sp1dyb0y1008 @totallynani @the-historical-biscuit2468 @borhapgirlforlife19 @amandaauroraelli @daggerdear @nvrendfangirl @lausnotverybright @salvinaa @psychotickoda @hiimerinhime @heyyallitsnaomi @trixyvixx @rstaverous

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

20 notes · View notes