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lo1k-diamonds · 4 months

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SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride

PAIRING: YoongixReader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

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Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated.

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—”

Your voice wavered, what were you—

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out.

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower.

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy?

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed.

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed.

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.”

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer.

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth.

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you.

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated.

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable.

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly. And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious.

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You wait until I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?”

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost.

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward.

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked.

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last.

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar.

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #update #ao3 fanfic #SX Seoul #writing wip #min yoongi #bts suga #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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starrystevie · 11 months

Text

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

#wow this got SO much longer than intended why does this always happen why can i not just shut up #anyway i've been trying to figure out how to write this for a week so enjoy #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie headcanon #popstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #modern au

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sunrizef1 · 2 months

Text

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

———————————————————

“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

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pierregazly · 11 days

Text

you were my best friend first ꨄ charles leclerc

charles leclerc x reader

warnings: fluff, charles is the sappiest drunk, monaco 2024, mentions of drinking/being drunk [1k words]

request: 🫶🏻 Charles Leclerc + prompt 8!! Thank youuuu 🤍 ["you were my bestfriend, before you were anything else, love."]

The Monaco sun shined down on him, his head was tilted back, embracing the warmth that radiated against his skin. Soft sighs of triumph leaving his lips as beads of sweat began to gather against his forehead.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his every move. He was exquisite in every way, and it was like he just knew it. The love that emitted from your heart for the Monegasque man was never-ending, all-consuming, and exactly the type of love you had always dreamt of, had always daydreamed about when you thought of the person that would once be that person for you.

Your eyes still shined bright with unshed tears, the sounds of the Monegasque anthem being sung from around you prompting one small bead of liquid to drip down your face. The pride racing through your body was indescribable. You could practically feel Charles’ happiness, his sheer relief, coursing through your own body.

Arthur’s arm was tossed over your shoulder, pulling your body against his side as he screeched the lyrics of the anthem into the open air, his own cheeks riddled with tears of pride for his big brother. Really, everyone around you had red cheeks, and a copious amount of shed tears.

This was the moment.

The moment everyone in Monaco had been yearning for since he qualified on pole, since they realized that this may finally be his chance. His family, his friends, his country-folk, his Monarchy, it was the moment every single person had been rooting for him for, for years.

It felt like forever while you waited for him to make his way down from the podium, being stopped by every person he passed kept him occupied, a toothy-smile so prominent on his features as his arms wrapped around almost every person who put their arm out to stop him in his path.

Once your eyes finally made contact with his, he rushed over, throwing his arms around your body and pulling you tight against him. You couldn’t decipher the words he was yelling into your ear, but the tone, the happiness, it was so obvious.

“You did it, you did it!” He eagerly nodded his head down at you, pressing his lips messily against yours, the smile as he did so prompting the corners of your lips to tug up alongside his.

Charles pulled back to look down at you, his glassy eyes conveying words you knew he couldn’t say right now.

“Thank you for being here, mon coeur. I’m so… just thank you,” he said.

You smiled up at him, your words caught in your throat as you tried to keep the looming tears at bay.

“I’ll always be here, Cha,” you said, a soft smile gracing your face as you continued to look up at him, feeling like the two of you were stuck in your own little world.

It didn’t take long for the festivities to begin. People graced the streets, singing songs of celebration, the clubs began opening their doors, the champagne had already been popped.

The gala dinner passed by quickly, the starstruck feeling of being so close to the Prince and Princess of Monaco was diminished by the drinks that continuously felt like they were being magically refilled in your hand. Charles’ arm hadn’t left your lower back, his body having begun to mould itself to you the longer the night progressed.

“Are you still okay to go to the club, mon coeur?”

Quirking an eyebrow up at him in confusion, you nodded your head with a slight laugh.

“Cha… tonight’s about you. I will go anywhere you want me to, my love. Just take my hand and drag me along,” you said.

A grin replaced the soft look on his face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he pulled your body tight against his again.

The music in the club was thunderous. There was no other way to describe the energy of the environment as anything other than triumphant. Everyone felt like this was a triumph for them, watching the person who had felt for years that Monaco could never love him back… to finally feel the love that he had always given so freely.

Neither of you had realized how much you had drank until you were holding each other up, the Monaco flag held over your heads as someone; still unsure as to who, dragged the two of you along and out to an Uber.

Charles giggled in your ear every time his feet flew out from underneath him, almost dragging the two of you down with every third step he took.

“Can’t believe you were really here to see me do it, baby,” he whispered in your ear, once the two of you were settled in the Uber and back on the road.

“M’good luck charm, mon coeur,” he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, prompting a shiver to shoot through your body.

“Oh Cha, wouldn’t have missed it for the world. You’re my best friend, my love,” you responded, a soft smile on your heated cheeks.

“You were my best friend, before you were anything else, mon coeur. Gonna talk about how I couldn’t have won Monaco without you during my wedding speech, mon coeur. Make everyone jealous, cause you’re so great and you’re all mine,” he rambled on, slurring his way through his multiple declarations of love for you.

Drunk or sober, the feelings that swam through your body had you nuzzling closer to the Monegasque as your apartment building came into view. You had loved him for years, had been the backbone of so many unfortunate weekend endings; had been there for every high and low in his Formula 1 career.

Every unhappy Sunday had led to this moment, Charles whispering declarations of love into your shoulder, as the banners and chants continued amongst the country. The raw, unfiltered love for the man beside you prompting drunken tears to fill your eyes.

He was Monaco’s hero, but he was your best friend first.

im so sorry it's taking me so long to get these out lol... i havent been in the biggest writing mood lately, but i finished a book tonight in two hours and decided i needed to finish this one. this one NEEDED to get written. love you all 💗

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little-diable · 1 month

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The setting sun - Dean Winchester (smut)

Writing for Dean is like therapy, simply the best. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader meet at a festival, a night that ends with Baby's windows fogged up and their exhausted bodies searching one another's closeness.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), car smut

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.6k words)

Music echoed through the evening, ringing in her ears as she moved her body to it. Her friends were standing close, eyes focused on the open-air stage, singing the lyrics to the songs they had all listened to for the past months. The sun was close to setting, drenching the sky in a pale orange-pink mixture, adding to the calm atmosphere.

“We’ll grab some more drinks, do you want to wait here for us?” Katy, one of her friends, turned towards (y/n), shooting her a tipsy grin that left them all chuckling. (Y/n) nodded her head as she watched her friends leave, allowing herself to relax for a few moments. She loved being around them and was grateful that they managed to lure her out of her comfort zone every now and then, but nevertheless, she needed some calmer moments to herself.

(Y/n)’s eyes found their way back towards the stage, she lifted her sunglasses to let the warm breeze stroke her features. For a moment or two, her eyes fluttered close, deeply exhaling to let go of the tension sticking to her whenever she was surrounded by a crowd this big.

But before (y/n) could even begin to understand what was happening, she felt herself stumbling, pushed from her spot by the broad frame of a man. She needed a second to collect herself, ready to stand up for herself, but as her eyes met his green apologetic ones, (y/n) forgot the words she had prepared to speak.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?” His concerned voice wrapped itself around her, smooth like the whisky she had poured down her throat a while ago, yet stronger than the alcohol still buzzing through her veins.

“Yeah, it's alright.” The smile she shot him managed to make one grow on his lips. They kept holding eye contact, allowing (y/n) to take in his handsome features. Freckles covered his nose and cheeks, a perfect match to the eyes filled with a colour so rich, (y/n) was sure he had stored the universe’s every secret in them.

“What’s your name?” She found herself pressed closer to him as a group pushed past them, momentarily looking at them as his hand found her waist, seemingly trying to stabilise her. His hand felt warm against her shirt, managing to burn through the fabric as if he were the rising sun, set on guiding her through her day.

“(Y/n), yours?" Not once had she felt such a pull deep inside of her, not daring to move away from the man who had undoubtedly spoken some kind of spell to keep her mesmerized by him. His thumb softly stroked the fabric of her shirt, a movement that would have normally managed to rip her out of her trance, not daring to be touched like this by a stranger. But with him it was different, with him it was everything she didn’t know she had craved.

“Dean.” Neither of them managed to break eye contact, no longer able to listen to the music filling the air, no longer able to concentrate on the people surrounding them. “Are you here on your own?”

“No, I came with some friends, they left to get some more drinks.” She finally managed to rip herself out of their intense eye contact, looking around to watch her friends approach with a tall stranger in tow. “There they are.”

“Seems like they found my brother, Sam.”

……

“Normally I wouldn’t do this.” Her whispers turned into a moan halfway through, eyes fluttering close as she was pressed against the leather seat of Dean’s car.

“What? Let a stranger fuck you in the backseat of his car?” Dean’s words were murmured against her naked chest, lips kissing their way down her stomach. (Y/n) could barely remember how they had ended up here, with Dean hovering over her, with the darkness swallowing them wholly. She could only remember how he had lured her away from the group, watching one of her friends get lost in a kiss with Sam, giving Dean and (y/n) the chance to bail on them for a while.

“Well, yeah.” Both chuckled in unison as her breathy reply left her. Dean’s skilled fingers undid the buttons of her trousers, tapping her waist to wordlessly ask (y/n) to raise her hips. The groan clawing through him left her shuddering, fighting against the need to press her thighs together.

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.” Dean’s raspy voice drew a moan from her parted lips. (Y/n)’s eyes rolled back into her head as his warm breath clashed against her arousal-covered folds, making goosebumps rise on her skin. She arched her back off the leather seat as Dean ate her out, sucking on her pulsing bundle while fucking her with two fingers curled against her sweet spot.

Dean knew what he was doing, he knew how to touch (y/n) for her to see stars, and yet she was aching for more, needing to feel her lips wrapped around his cock. With another shaky exhale leaving her, she gently pushed Dean away to sit back up.

“My turn.” She didn’t need to speak another word – with a grin that could make God blush glued to his lips, Dean shifted around to lean against the door, while freeing his cock. Her tongue ran along her lower lip in excitement, studying the handsome man she was about to go down on, finally able to map out his body.

“Go on.” His hand found her hair as she positioned herself, tongue darting out to lick his precum-covered tip. (Y/n)’s glassy eyes flickered up to meet Dean’s, getting lost in the richest green she had ever been fortunate enough to see. There was something to Dean she couldn’t pinpoint, something that left her confused and intrigued at once. But no matter what it was, she wanted to be close to him, wanted him to feel the same excitement she was held hostage by.

“Open up, you can take more, can’t you, baby?" Dean’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears as she swallowed more of him, choking around him with tears dripping from her eyes. It was messy, exactly what Dean had been desperate for, needing to feel her eager mouth around his cock, pushing him closer to the edge before he’d fuck her. “Look at you, so eager for my cock. I can’t wait to see your cunt taking my cock.”

(Y/n) moaned around him at his promises, walls clenching around nothing. His words seemed to urge both of them on, making Dean pull her off his cock to shift her around once again. No words were spoken between them as Dean reached for a condom, staring down at (y/n) with excitement swimming in his pupils.

“Let me.” (Y/n) took the condom from him to roll it down his length, squeezing him once again before plopping back down on the seat. Dean dipped his head down to kiss her, while aligning himself with her tightness, slowly pushing into her. Moans clawed through them at the new sensation, sounds that wordlessly managed to communicate their longings, the need to be close to one another even though they only met a few hours ago.

“Dean,” she choked on his name. “Don’t hold back, fuck me, please.”

His raspy chuckles filled the already fogged-up Impala, allowing him to add more speed to his thrusts, set on burying himself deep inside of her. Lust was swimming in both their eyes, a longing so addicting, that both feared they’d lose themselves in it. It was calling for them, luring them into its dark trap that would keep the two connected for longer than planned.

Hours ago both had begun to realise that tonight wouldn’t end with a simple fuck, this was something more, something keeping them connected for months on end. Perhaps even years.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart, let me hear you.” His thrusts met that spot again, making black spots appear in her vision while her hand was pressed against the foggy window of Baby, leaving her handprint on the glass. Having Dean buried deep inside of her felt even better than she had imagined, leaving her skin to tingle whenever his lips met hers, making goosebumps arise whenever his hand tightened its grip on her frame.

Their moans mixed, forming sinful sounds both would dream of for nights on end. Dean’s forehead fell against (y/n)’s as her walls clenched around him once again, telling him that she was close, ready to cum around his cock. With clashing teeth and tangled tongues, (y/n) was pushed over the edge, moaning into his mouth as her orgasm clashed through her.

(Y/n)’s trembling hand found Dean’s neck, letting her fingernails claw at his skin while Dean searched his high, trembling on top of her as he came moments later. Both were heavily panting, clinging to one another like rafts sailing through the rough ocean without any destination in mind, knowing they could only cling to one another.

“That was incredible.” (Y/n)’s chuckles left Dean smirking. He pulled out of her before he kissed her again, cupping her cheek with his big hand. They held contact as he stared down at her, pondering over his words before he cleared his throat.

“Come with Sam and me. I don’t want to let go of you, sweetheart.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

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oraclekleins · 27 days

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hello, can you write Joost Klein x musician!reader where Joost and reader met at a mutual friend's party and they hit it off? And they start to develop feelings after a while of being friends!!!

thank you for the request, anon!

Good Luck, Babe!

Joost Klein/Musician!Reader

Fluff, Crushes, 1983 era Joost :-) + Reader is BFFs with Appie!

In the warm summer air, you embrace the night; sprawling out your fingers to trace the stars. The soft glow of string lights from above illuminate the beer you’re nursing in your hands, a dull chill spreading through your palms. You listen to the sound of your own breath in the silence, aside from the soft hum of fire from the pit in front of you, slow and a little raspy. The door to Apson’s house swings open and then closes. It was nice of Appie to invite you in the first place - you never could thank him enough for trying to involve you in his friend group. Usually, you’d politely decline the invitation, not quite having made it past the step of hyping yourself up in the mirror, promising it’d be a good night.

You remind yourself that this was practice for the stage. How were you supposed to perform if you couldn’t even manage to go to one of your best friend’s parties? Grimacing at the thought, you roll your shoulders, a sigh passing from your lips. Apson was the first one to have given your music a chance, having been sat on your bed as you wrote your lyrics, pushing your journal towards him after each edit. He would hum any sort of tune to catch your words, give you some sort of inspiration. It’s easy to be around him, it just feels right ; which happens to make the fear of making a good impression around his friends much worse.

A hand finds your shoulder, heavy and welcoming. You can smell his cologne before he speaks, saccharine and earthy. “Need to go get another case of beer, you coming with?” Apson grins, already tugging you along.

“Of course, yeah,” you’re starting to reply, nearly tripping down the porch steps, your arm catching another body in its stagger for balance.

His face is a bit mousey, grin curious and friendly. “Careful!” He teases, trailing after Apson. He glances back to you - like he’s making sure you’re following, a bit hesitant. You’re well aware of who he is, having seen hundreds of pictures of him and Appie together, flicking through their stories in a muted envy. Joost .

Appie releases you from his grip once you’re tugging at the passenger side door, Joost trailing after you. “Long time no see,” he says, sugary and faint, dying out into a giggle.

You climb into the car. He’s fumbling between buckling his seatbelt and throwing Appie’s collection of mess from the backseat into the trunk.

“You were at Appie’s birthday party, right?” You reply, fidgeting with your hands, beer long abandoned on the side of Apson’s porch.

Joost looks towards you. “Yeaahh,” he drags out the ah , dramatically. You can tell that he’s doing it to make you laugh, searching for your smile after. “I remember you. The singer!” The singer. You can't help but wonder how much you told him, 6 shots deep and in desperation to look like a good, talented friend. The label makes you a little sick, but you nod.

“You as well? I think I saw your album on Instagram - it was good, really good,” the fabric of your shirt is sticking to your chest, cotton-stiff and uncomfortable. You turn to roll down the window, the still heat wavering in the backseat.

“Appie! AC?” You whine a bit, tapping at the driver’s seat.

Apson pauses from sticking his keys into the ignition, glaring at you through the mirror. "Roll down the window! I gotta start the car, man."

You sigh, giving up as your back hits the carseat.

Joost glances over again, fiddling with his phone case. "Really cool you saw my stuff. Now I gotta hear yours, okay?" He offers you an earbud, wire already stuck into his phone.

You feel a little nauseous.

ᯓ★

It hadn't taken long for you and Joost to connect after the party. Embarrassingly enough, when you had gotten his follow request, days passed before you finally accepted it and sent a message. It became a lot easier to speak with him, bonding over being independent artists.

Of course, every glimpse of him on your feed had snuck into your dreams, slipping through them like the moonlight in your window. You're startled awake, chest heaving from the thought of his face. Fingers threading through his blonde strands, tangling them and curling them around your knuckle. The thought feels like praying, knelt at the altar, eager for your next glimpse.

You wondered if he knew.

"You're an up and coming, for serious," he would blurt out after every sneak of music you showed him. The endless praise for your work cycled into daily conversation, asking to see what you were working on- or if he could help with anything.

You couldn't help but wonder how long this dance between you two would go, when every touch became an apology for being too shy. When you could lace your fingers with his, joking about the size of your hands, yet too nervous to nestle your face into the crook of his neck.

You feel homesick when his arm isn't wrapped around your shoulder, peeking over your phone to see what you're doing rather than talking to him. He always knows how to make you look up, smile, giddy just to get a reaction.

When he confesses his 'silly', unripe feelings - it feels like the sky itself had opened up and sang for you.

#hope you like!!#my writing #joost klein x you #joost klein imagines #joost klein x reader #rpf #joost klein imagine #joost klein x musician!reader

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wineauntie · 2 months

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THE LITTLE THINGS WITH BOYFRIEND!LUKE HUGHES

( luke hughes x fem!reader ) masterlist

note: this was written in 20 minutes and I love it <33

warnings: none, just Luke being soft!

BOYFRIEND!LUKE loves to make you tea in the morning when he comes home from morning skate. He knows you’re not an early riser when you don’t have work to go to, so he also knows that when he’s back from morning skate, you’ll still be curled up in bed asleep.

He will sit on the edge of the bed, gently caressing your mussed hair out of your face, as he tries to coax you awake. He keeps his voice low and steady, watching as you stir awake. He loves to watch you slowly blink and smile upon seeing Luke sitting, waiting with a cup of tea in hand for you. He’ll watch as you sit up and take the cup from him with a sleepy grin.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will insist on kissing you despite your protests of morning breath. He will lean forward and peck your lips, with his own teasing smile across his face as he does so. He will then sit and talk to you, telling you all about his morning skate, allowing you to sip your tea and listen.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who fills up your favourite water bottle for you whenever he sees it close to being finished. You’ll be lying side by side with him on the couch, both of you relaxing when he notices its emptiness and scoops it out of your hands. He’ll practically run to the kitchen to fill it up before returning it to your hands and returning to the warmth of your side.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who sits on the bathroom counter and watches you doing your makeup. He’ll just be mesmerised by whatever you’re doing, his mouth slightly agape as he listens to you talking or singing along to whatever songs you’re listening to. Every now and again, he’ll ask you a question about what you’re doing and you’ll explain as he just stares as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will sit through your favourite reality TV shows despite “having a hatred towards them”. He will sit beside you, leaning back into the couch, his arm draped across the back, his fingers brushing your neck as he watches. Luke will say he’s not invested but give him one episode and he’s hooked on the drama.

“So, sunglasses girl hates Hawaiian shirt man because he cheated on her with the pink-haired girl?”

You’d laugh at his passion, knowing damn well that he lowkey likes the show.

“Yes! And the girl with the sunglasses knows and has known for a while so she slept with Hawaiian shirt's Dad!”

Luke would try to be subtle with his liking for the show, so much so that he’d groan and moan at the prospect of having to watch another episode.

“Another one? Oh baby, please not another one…fine, I guess I’ll suffer through another.”

BOYFRIEND!LUKE who loves to go on nighttime drives with you. He’d play some soft country music as the two of you bask in the quiet of the night. He’d drive with one hand on your thigh, his thumb caressing the skin there, as he’d quietly hum the lyrics to the song.

Luke loves his early nights but he is more than willing to sacrifice them for that time with you in his car. The two of you will idly talk back and forth, or simply coexist in a comfortable silence. Sometimes Luke will park up and he’ll pull you into his lap so that the two of you can talk and cuddle in the peace.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who insists that every time he goes for a pre-game nap, you join him. Claiming that you help him sleep better.

When Luke sleeps, he holds you practically on top of him, with your head nestled between his neck and shoulder. His arms completely engulf you, holding you as tight as possible. If you ever wake up before him and try to move away, Luke will simply not let go, pulling you closer to his body with a tired whine.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who indulges your monthly obsessions. You find yourself loving diy? Luke will drive you to every craft/hardware store nearby for you to stock up. You go through a phase of flying through books? Every day, Luke comes home with books he saw on your to-be-read list. You find yourself enraptured by a musician’s work? Luke is scouring the internet for vinyls, concert tickets and merchandise to surprise you with.

He just wants you to be happy and he loves to spoil you, it’s a win-win situation.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who buys you a memento from every city he goes to on a roadie. The memento is usually pretty ugly or ridiculous and ends up being a gag gift for you. You adore them, treasuring them all with your favourites being a “good girls go to heaven, bad girls go to Vegas” shot glass and a bright, pink T-shirt that stated “Texas SUV” with a cartoon longhorn cow.

No matter what, you and Luke always end up giggling over the crap presents and there’s a box in your wardrobe where you store them all for the memories.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who wears your initial on a chain around his neck. He doesn’t take it off, even tucking it deep beneath his jersey for games. Sometimes when the camera lingers on him, it’ll capture Luke fiddling with the chain, grasping it. He likes to have a piece of you wherever he goes, and he doesn’t care how many chirps he gets for it.

He couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot when you’d bought a necklace with his initials, wearing it every day, for him.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who has, on one or more occasions, introduced you as Mrs. Hughes or “the wife”. You’d turn up to a restaurant for a reservation for “Mr and Mrs Hughes”, that Luke made for your date night, or when Luke is out with friends, he’ll catch sight of you on his lock screen and get the urge to go home.

“Hey, I’m calling it a night…the wife is at home waiting.”

It got so bad that all of his teammates, call you Mrs little Hughes. Even Jack teasingly calls you his sister-in-law and has often referenced you and Luke’s future.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who will never leave your side if you’re out in public with him. His hand is always around your waist, or holding your hand. If you’re walking through the city, he walks on the outside of the footpath, with you pressed to his side, his eyes vigilantly scanning anything that could even potentially pose any harm to you.

If you’re at a charity event with Luke, his eyes will never leave you for longer than five seconds. He likes having you close and knowing you’re okay and you act disgruntled but you secretly love how much he cares for you.

BOYFRIEND!LUKE, who loves you so much that he can’t fathom a life without you. Luke, who adores you and trusts you with his life, knowing that you make his life worth living.

#wineauntie #new jersey devils #nhl x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #Luke hughes

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xxsabitoxx · 9 months

Text

Karaoke | 15k Special

Satoru x Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, MxMxF threesome, snowballing, blow jobs, pussy eating, dick riding, creampies, accidental voyeurism

A/N: Two out of five threesome specials down! Three more to go! Up next is Shino/Mitsu! ✨Lesbianism✨

Word Count: 3.1k

You slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning into Suguru as you tried to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s singing was god awful, but that wouldn't stop the man from pouring his heart into it while the two of you fell apart on the couch. Every voice crack was vibrating the sound proof walls and sending you into a new fit of giggles. “Ya know…” Suguru spoke softly, just loud enough to be heard over Satoru’s singing. “We could totally fuck with him…” you looked up at him, sitting up immediately as a smirk grew on your face. “Yeah? Walls are soundproof right?” You were already getting up, creeping behind the white haired man as he started singing off key again.

Suguru watched in amusement, waiting to see what you’d do first before getting up to provide back up. As Satoru’s arms raised in a dramatic way, your arms snaked around his midsection, earning a surprised yelp straight into the microphone. You began to laugh again, hands sneaking under the hem of his baggy white shirt. “What are you doing?” He wheezed, head tilting back to look at the devious grin on your face. “Nothin, keep singing Sa-to-ru~” you practically purred, hands coming up to graze his nipples and earn a sharp inhale, just barely picked up by the mic. Behind you, Suguru clicked his tongue, getting up to make his way over to the two of you as the music continued to play.

“Now this won’t do…” he plucked the mic from Satoru’s grasp, holding it to his lips as you continued to roam his torso. “Keep singing, Satoru.” Brown eyes met blue in a heated stare, a shaky nod coming from Satoru as he tried to refocus his attention on the music. It was no use though, your hands were playing a very dangerous game, pulling every thought from his mind as he tried to read the lyrics. “Aw, looks like you got lucky.” Suguru chided, grinning as the song came to an end. The three of you were left in silence. “Looks like we’ll be able to hear you loud and clear now, Satoru.” Your hand slithered upwards, rolling one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger. A shaky gasp echoed through the speakers.

“Good boy, Satoru.” Suguru’s words came out in a low, rumbling tone, making both you and Satoru shiver at the praise. “Do you want to suck him off, Suguru? Or do you want me to do it?” You cooed, pressing your cheek into Satoru’s back as you continued to pinch and tug his nipples. “How about you suck him off, pretty girl. I wanna see him struggle.” The promise in his tone had you smiling, pulling away from Satoru all together and grabbing his arm to guide him to the leather couch. “Just relax, Satoru. We locked the door and everything, nobody will hear your cute little noises.” you grinned as he sat down, cock already twitching to life as Suguru sat beside him. Suguru slung one arm over his shoulders, holding the mic just below his mouth.

Both men watched you get on your knees, hands shaking with anticipation as you undid the button and zipper of Satoru’s jeans. “So excited already, all y/n did was pinch your nipples. What a sensitive little slut you are, Satoru.” Suguru drawled, watching you fish Satoru’s cock out of the confines of his briefs. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as Satoru’s cock was exposed, fully hard now and leaking with precum. “You can’t even pretend you don’t like this.” You laughed, straightened on your knees to hover over his cock. You stuck your tongue out, letting saliva drip off it and watching as it landed on the bulbous head of Satoru’s tip. A low groan vibrated his throat, eyes squeezing shut as the noise echoed and amplified on the surround sound speakers.

Satoru said nothing, practically dizzy with the waves of arousal coursing through him. You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing him tightly until he nearly doubled forward, moaning loudly into the mic. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, body feeling warm as you began pumping him. Your eyes flickered to Suguru, noticing the straining bulge in his sweats as he watched your fist glide over Satoru’s length. “Tell me, Satoru, how bad do you want this?” You asked him with a smirk, watching as Suguru made sure to hold the mic right to his lips before speaking. “F-Fuck…” Satoru shivered as his voice was amplified “...so bad. Fuck I want it so bad, suck my cock please…” For some reason, he was starting to really like this.

Suguru cursed under his breath, smirking a bit at Satoru’s shameless attitude. You couldn’t think of anything to say in return, finding his answer more than fulfilling. You settled down on your knees again, hand holding him upright as you locked eyes with him. Carefully, you liked up the side of his shaft, tracing the veins with your tongue and stopping just before the tip. You repeated that same motion three more times before switching to kisses. Over and over you placed sloppy kisses on his shaft, his tip, his thighs, even reaching up to move his shirt and kiss his abdomen. You didn’t stop until he was panting into the mic, precum dripping over your knuckles as you continued to hold his cock straight.

Finally, with two pairs of eyes glued to you, you wrapped your lips around his angry red tip. You lavished him with your tongue, moaning as the salty and slightly bitter precum coated your tastebuds. “Oh fuck…” Satoru whined, fist tightening as they gripped the side of Suguru’s sweats. Still, the sounds echoed in the loudspeakers. You lapped at his slit, collecting the arousal that oozed there before relaxing your jaw to take more of him. Satoru’s breathing audibly stuttered as you sunk all the way down on his length, not stopping until your nose brushed the coarse white hair at his base. Just as quickly as you took him in, you were pulling back, trying to find a good rhythm to bob your head at.

Moans began tumbling from his lips, cheeks flushed red as his head fell back. Dutifully, Suguru’s hand followed Satoru’s mouth, keeping the mic within distance to pick up every noise. You felt suffocated by your own clothing, tugging your cardigan off and throwing it to the floor without missing a beat. Only wearing a tank top alleviated some of the heat, but you were too focused on getting Satoru off to bother with any other clothing. “Oh fuck I’m close…” he grounded out, the mic picking up the steady vibrations in his throat as he moaned your name. Your hand reached up, cupping his balls through his briefs and massaging them roughly. A breathy gasp of your name left Satoru’s lips as his head fell back, crying out loudly as he spilled into your mouth.

You pulled off of him with a slick pop a moment later, sticking your tongue out for both men to see. Satoru’s pearly white release pooled on your tongue, both men seemed completely enthralled by the sight until you placed your hands on Satoru’s thighs, pushing upwards and pressing an open mouth kiss right to his lips. Always willing to indulge, Satoru’s lips parted as his hands found your waist, letting you spill some of his own release on his tongue. Suguru watched, hand coming down to squeeze his cock through his sweats to ease the pressure. As you both pulled away from one another, Satoru grinned. “It’s only right that I get payback, huh?” You weren’t given a chance to think before you were being lifted and pressed into the leather couch.

Satoru had quickly situated himself on the floor before you, just as you had moments prior. Suguru took the initiative and scooted closer to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders with a smirk. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Sugu.” you chided, forcing a pout as you lifted your hips for Satoru to slide your pants and underwear down. “I am on your side, but I’m on Satoru’s side too.” He smirked, dangling the mic in front of you. “You’ll sound even better than Satoru did over the loudspeakers, pretty girl.” You looked away, face feeling warm as Satoru’s hands spread your thighs apart. “Look how turned on you got just from sucking me off, so cute…” you tried to stifle the whine that left your lips as he dragged two fingers between your lips, coating them in your shiny arousal. “Oh…” you squirmed as his fingers bumped your clit.

Your own voice echoed back at you, making your eyes squeeze shut as you tried to hide your face in Suguru’s shoulder. “Ah Ah, you’re not hiding from us.” Suguru’s voice echoed on the mic as well, making your body feel hot all over as you questioned if the room was truly sound proof. You swallowed your pride, turning to watch Satoru as he continued to play with your pussy. “Do you want me to finger fuck you? Or do you want my mouth? You need to tell me, sweetheart.” Satoru practically purred, as if he wasn’t the one at your mercy moments prior. “Y-your tongue, Sato… I want your tongue.” You whined into the mic, earning a low groan from Suguru as Satoru’s tongue slid out to wet his plump lips. “As you wish, sweetheart.” His head dipped lower, tufts of white hair tickling your inner thighs as he placed kisses along your folds.

Your fingers tightened on Suguru’s thigh, unknowingly doing what Satoru had done to him. That little motion made Suguru smirk, grabbing your wrist with his free hand and placing it over the outline of his cock straining below his sweats. You whined, legs spreading a little further as Satoru’s tongue slipped between, lapping at your clit and sending sparks of electricity up the base of your spine. You stared at him, lips parted as the mic picked up every ragged breath you took, watching his nose slide against the front of your public bone, inhaling deeply. “Jesus fuck, Satoru.” you gasped into the mic, unable to contain your shyness as he shamelessly inhaled you.

“He likes putting on a show for you.” Suguru murmured, slightly strained as you squeezed the outline of his cock roughly. Satoru only smiled, tongue sliding down lower to prod at your entrance. This time it was his nose bumping your clit, piercing blue eyes boring into yours as he watched you steadily lose your composure. You could feel it, drool and arousal steady slipping down to pool on the cheap red leather of the couch, puddling against your ass. “Fuck…” you whined again, the loudspeakers throwing it right back at you. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Suguru murmured, trying to ignore the wet mark starting to grow on his gray sweats. “Y-yeah… shit S-Satoru… gonna cum…” You moaned, face on fire as your hips jerked upwards. You could feel it building steadily, if he continued as he was now, you’d be coming all over him in seconds.

“Don’t stop, Satoru. She was so kind as to let you cum.” Suguru teased, but there was a level of command to it, one Satoru wouldn’t dare disobey as you moaned his name. Your grip tightened significantly, earning a low moan from Suguru as your other hand found its home in Satoru’s hair. Both men were making noises along with you, loud enough to be picked up on the mic and echo in the tiny karaoke room. Your walls clenched around nothing, pushing you over the edge as you cried out into the mic, coming on Satoru’s tongue with a wave of sweet arousal. He moaned against you, lapping greedily at every drop of honey you offered him. It took you a moment to realize your ears had begun ringing, a tired laugh tugging from your chest as it subsided. “Well…” you smiled down at Satoru, watching him pull away from your cunt with one last kiss before smirking up at you with shiny lips. “Two down, one to go.”

You both turned to look at Suguru, the devious grins on your face making him stiffen as you pulled the mic out of his hands. “Didn’t think you were getting out of this without the same sort of embarrassment, did you, Suguru?” Satoru gloated softly, voice condescending as you handed him the mic. Suguru said nothing, cheeks turning a shade of pink as you moved to straddle him with shaky legs. “It’s your turn to make pretty noises for us, Su-gu-ru~” You drawled out his name just as you had with Satoru, smiling as his eyes looked everywhere but you for a moment. Always one to act big and tough, like he was always in control. But Suguru crumbled like a drying sand castle the moment you and Satoru teamed up on him.

He couldn’t help it, you were both his biggest weakness.

You raised your hips, tugging down his sweats and underwear quickly and letting his cock spring free. “Damn.” you commented softly as Satoru took a seat beside Suguru on the couch, mimicking what he had done by slinging an arm over his broad shoulders. “Fuck, that probably hurts, huh?” Satoru grinned, holding the mic by Suguru’s lips as the two of you observed his cock. It stood proudly, tip flushed an angry read as precum covered the entirety of it. You had noticed the small stain on his pants before tugging them down, making you feel all the more smug as you wrapped your hand around him. Suguru’s huff of relief sounded over the speakers, making his eyes shut momentarily before reopening them to watch you pump him a few times. “Take him all at once, sweetheart, you’re wet enough.” Satoru encouraged you with a wicked grin.

“Alright, if you insist.” You smiled back, hearing Suguru’s breathing stop for a moment as you angled him at your entrance. “Don’t hold back.” Was all you said to him before dropping your hips down on him. Both of you gasped, Suguru was amplified over the speakers, nearly drowning you out. Your walls spasmed around him, velvety heat suctioning to every inch of him as he stretched you open. “Oh fuck.” he gasped out, head falling back as his hands found your hips to keep you still. “Your pussy never gets old.” He groaned, no longer embarrassed by the fact that everything was being blasted on loudspeakers. “Suguru!” You squealed a bit, earning a laugh from Satoru as his eyes flickered between the two of you. “It’s the truth, pretty girl.” He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he slowly lifted his head back up to look at you.

“Ride me, please. Fuck I need you to move so bad, pretty girl.” his pupils were blown wide, flickering between your face and where your cunt was swallowing his cock whole. “Say it again.” you murmured, needing to hear his breathy voice through the loudspeakers again. “Ride me, please. Pretty girl, I need you to ride me.” You gasped, lifting your hips half way before dropping them down again, shivering at the feeling of his girth spreading you open over and over. Suguru’s head fell back against the couch, jaw slack as he watched himself disappear and reappear inside of you over and over. It took a minute but soon enough there was a slick squelch every time your hips dropped back down, arousal collecting at the base of his cock and disappearing into the thick dark hair along his pubic bone.

Satoru watched with flush cheeks, getting an idea as the squelching only got louder. He moved the mic from Suguru’s lips, instead reaching down to hover it where you and Suguru’s bodies became one. Now, you could really hear everything, your head falling forward in embarrassment as you continued to drive your hips down on Suguru. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the two men, Suguru’s hands grabbing your waist hard to pull and push you down on him at an even quicker pace. “Fuck… so good, you’re so good.” You couldn’t contain your noises as Suguru praised you endlessly, Satoru’s eyes watching you intently as you started to fall apart. “Fuck…” You choked out again, hand slipping down your front to toy with your clit until Satoru’s hand swatted yours away. “Let me…” he breathed out, two fingers slipping down to rub circles.

Your walls clenched around Suguru’s length, gripping him like a vice as your hips stuttered. “Gonna cum… gonna cum…” Suguru grounded out, head falling forward to focus on Satoru’s fingers between your legs. “Cum with me, please? Wanna feel you cum with me.” Suguru panted, eyes flickering to Satoru. “Make her cum, please.” Satoru huffed out a laugh, fingers rubbing a little quicker as your whines turned to quiet pants. “Come on…” Suguru groaned, cock twitching violently as dull nails dug into your waist. “O-oh.. fuck fuck fuck…” You choked, walls sputtering around Suguru’s length as you came hard. Suguru followed after you within a second, hot release spurting into you. Your hips dropped down all the way, earning a sharp inhale from Suguru as his tip pressed into your cervix.

“Well, that was fun.” Satoru chimed, watching the two of you come down from your highs as he went to put the karaoke mic back on the stand. You collapsed into Suguru’s chest, feeling him soften inside of you as he panted. “Oh… oh no.” Satoru froze, eyes locked on the corner of the room. “Oh no?” you questioned, Suguru’s arms wrapping around your midsection to keep you in place. “Yeah, oh no… we gotta leave.” he sounded a little panicked but there was laughter in his tone as well. “And why is that?” Suguru groaned, head lifting to see what Satoru could possibly be looking at. “There is uh… well… there’s a security camera in the corner… It's been recording this whole time.” Now, you were both stiffening, sitting up right to turn and look.

“You’re fucking kidding.” you yelped, cheeks flooding with warmth as you turned to look at Suguru. “Well, they probably got a good show…” he swallowed, cheeks turning red as he let you get off of him slowly. “We can never come back here.” Satoru laughed, grabbing some napkins off the table to help clean the mess slowly leaking down your thighs. “I don’t think they’ll even let us back here if we wanted to.” You watched Suguru pull his pants on, sticky arousal still covering him. “We should ask them for a copy of the recording.” Satoru chimed, watching both of you groan as you quickly made yourselves look presentable. “Satoru, shut up.”

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chilschuck · 2 months

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I NEED CHILCHUCK+LAIOS WITH A LANA DEL REY CODED READER!!!!!

Recently I've been listening to Lana del Rey's music and it's just.... Ethereal, ethereal and melancholic.

So, I would like reader to have a similar vibe, you know? She looks ethereal, the type of gorgeous that you doubt if she is real or just a hallucination, but also melancholic. Something about her just always looks a little sad and lost in thought.

She's also gentle, like a mother's embrace, she's soft spoken (bonus if she also sings and has a similar voice like Lana)

But if you had listened to Lana's music (which I think you have) she has a ton of slightly suggestive music, so maybe she's also a bit flirty and playfull.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ anon you have no idea what you have done to me. i hadn’t listened to her music in depth but now i am HOOKED. AND THIS IDEA WAS SO FUN TO WRITE FOR???? god bless you…….. i hope hcs are okay! i went a little ham on them, lol. even put lyrics i thought fit them in a way! i hope this is what you were wanting, and thank you so much for your request!!! <3

— HEADCANONS: lana del rey coded reader.

୨୧ i’ve got my eye on you. (say yes to heaven!)

꒰ charas: ꒱ LAIOS & CHILCHUCK.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 852

꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw + fem!reader.

✦ once again, sorry if anything seems ooc. i had too much writing this and blasting her music, LOL. and a special thank you to my love jackie for reading over it for me!!! WAHH

— LAIOS: “i can see my sweet boy swaying.”

✦ The first time he lays eyes on you, he has to ask himself if he’s dreaming. Certainly he must be, with the way the world just seems to stop whenever you’re around. There’s an air of mystery there, and when your eyes flit up to meet his, he’s captivated.

✦ It’s not just your beauty that enraptured him; I like to think he saw a depth in you he hadn’t seen before. Maybe he was drawn to the way you always looked almost… wistful, longing… Sad. But there was a beauty in sadness, wasn’t there? The way you still moved about so captivatingly while seeming so far away in those eyes… It was breath-taking.

✦ Laios definitely thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen. It’s haunting almost, the way your hair frames your face and the silkiness of your voice. The first time you spoke to him, he knew he would beg you to do it again. You’re soft-spoken, a voice that carries so much weight for him. Say the word, and he’s there.

✦ I don’t think anything could’ve prepared him for your playfulness. You leave little ghosting touches down his arms and back when he’s deep in thought, only fueling his speculation that you’re just his imagination. Maybe you even whisper his name, having it bleed from your lips in that way of yours that makes his skin erupt in goosebumps. Press your lips against his ear and hum his name, only to pull away with that grin on your face. Watch as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, cheeks red as he swallows. (I think teasing him would be a lot of fun, especially when he’ll just buckle.)

✦ The first time Laios hears you sing, his head seems to spin. Direct it at him, sing for him, and he might just melt. Maybe you don’t even mean for him to hear you the first time, but now it’s something he longs for.

✦ Aside from the teasing and flirting, you’re gentle. Almost painfully so, your touch too sweet for him to fathom. Look at him with those distant eyes and cup his cheeks in your palms, your sweet boy, and he instantly leans into your embrace. Pull him in, hold him close, maybe even sway just a bit as you hum. I think you’ll really make him feel like he’s dreaming, then.

— CHILCHUCK: “be my once in a lifetime.”

✦ Don’t blame him if you catch him staring. The first time he sees you, Chilchuck falters. Is it possible for someone to be this beautiful? Ethereal seemed to be an understatement, especially when your gaze met his.

✦ We know Chilchuck doesn’t like to let too much show; this man is repressed. Even so, you draw something out of him. You’re deep like an ocean, dark like its depths, strong like the tide. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe this is as close as it gets.

✦ He feels like he could drown in you. Your voice, your eyes, your touch. You’re gentle in all the right ways, especially in the way you speak. Chilchuck has heightened senses, and you please every single one of them. When you first decided to talk to him, he couldn’t believe how soft your voice really was. Say his name and he just about can’t take it.

✦ You drive him up the wall when you tease him. You know he loves to hear you speak, and when you let that playfulness bleed into your tone, he’s smitten. Flirt with him and you might just get a red faced half-foot in the palm of your hands. Your embrace is what really makes his head spin. Pull him close to your chest with your addicting touch and he might just never let you go.

✦ Chilchuck longs for genuine affection like this, revels in it. If you give that to him, even just a taste, he comes back for more. It goes without saying that your voice when you sing has him almost gasping for air. How can someone look this gorgeous, sound this breathtaking? Pull him back to reality with you, remind him this isn’t some sort of cruel trick on his mind.

✦ Chilchuck doesn’t like to see your saddened gaze, even if it’s only there in fleeting moments. You’re melancholic, he knows that, and for some reason it just makes him want to dive deeper. Are you hiding things like he is? Maybe there’s an unsaid connection there with that shared knowledge. Chil lets himself go when he’s meeting your gaze, all that emotion he bottles up doesn’t seem to matter when he’s with you.

✦ Going back to your gentle touch, he just about crumbles under you. Imagine how tightly he’s wound, how long he’s craved some sort of connection like he has with you. Chilchuck, when he’s alone with you, lets himself get lost in thought too. But instead of painful memories and the tasks at hand, he drowns in your embrace and wonders how he ever went this long without someone like you.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#WHEE I DID IT!#GOT THIS OUT BEFORE MIDNIGHT!#now time to do schoolwork LOL #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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blue-jisungs · 10 months

Note

heyy girlypop 😘

can i request a skz and how/what partner privilege they give you?? 😍

partner privilege ♡

a/n. girlypop😭😭😭😭😭 will do 🤞 sorry for such a long wait bestie 🤧

i wrote something similar with svt if anyone is interested ^_^

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

everyone, including you, thought that whenever chan has a song idea or has written lyrics he shows it to the boys first. whether 3racha or felix or the others if they’re nearby. only then the producers and then you. but one day, after chan gave you a new song to listen, you were sitting in the kitchen and reading a book. han and changbin walked in, chatting about something. subconsciously you listened to the convo, which happened to be about the song. “yeah, i wonder what it’s like. or if he used the thing i told him about” han nodded and you rose your head. “oh the adlibs? the song is a banger, i’m sure stays will love it” you hummed and sent them a smile. “how do you know how it sounds?” changbin asked. “chan let me listen to it… am i the first one? i thought you were–“ you halted. “and we thought we were first–“ han mumbled, dialling chan’s number. blush crept at your cheeks, a sudden feeling of butterflies in your stomach. were you always the first listener…?

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

“hey, we’re back–!” felix hummed and was met with your quiet shh! looking at chan in surprise, they walked closer and noticed minho napping on your lap, quiet snores leaving his mouth. you were caressing his hair gently, giving them a silent warning to be quiet. “oh wow. first time in years i see this man asleep on someone else” chan grunted and they went to unpack the groceries. you continued running your fingers through his hair, warmth spreading across your heart. minho is truly like a cat; only falling asleep on a person he fully trusts and loves wholeheartedly.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you pop into the room, peaking your head and seeing your boyfriend engrossed in a lively discussion. “hey, binnie, ready to go?” you ask, drawing attention. he smiled wildly and proudly, standing up with a ‘sure, let’s go’. that causes hyunjin to gasp dramatically and jeongin side eye seungmin. “you literally told us your car just broke” seungmin murmurs and you frown. “well, whatever y/n wants, she gets. which includes rides” he chirps happily and drags you out before they start shouting. “you told them your car broke?” you laugh as he opens the door for you. changbin just winks and points at the aux. “shhh. you can play some music” he grins and hopes they don’t see it from the dorm window. because they’re absolutely not allowed to touch anything in the car.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

hyunjin stops in his tracks once you kneel down and start tying your shoelaces. “oh, you don’t have to” you mumbled, looking up and smiling at him. your boyfriend shakes his head and mirrors your smile, kneeling down too. “how could i not?” he hums and waits for you to finish. changbin turns around once he realises he didn’t hear hyunjin’s laughter in a while and gasps. noticing you two are far behind, he grunts: “he never waits for me when i tie my shoes”. once you’re done, he stands up with you and grabs your hand, swinging it back and forth dramatically. jeongin suddenly kneels and ties his shoe… only for hyunjin to pass him by, chuckling. changbin sighs as if to say “see, this is what i meant”.

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

“no, go away!” you’re met with jisung’s growl when you enter the room. lino pouts and leans away, rolling his eyes. they greet you, han’s mouth stuffed with food. you smile and sit next to them. after he’s chewed, he pokes your cheeks. “hi baby, how was your day?” han asks and slaps lino’s hand that made its way to his bento box. “it’s was decent. i missed you” you hum and peek at his lunchbox. it looks delicious, with the fried rice and chicken and– “you want some?”. you nod shyly and in no time han gives you it, along with a pair of chopsticks. minho gasps, punching jisung’s arm. “i’ve been begging you for a bite for half an hour and you–! hmpf” minho grunts and waddles away, offended. “ignore him. if you want, you can finish it. it’s delicious, isn’t it?” your boyfriend asks and laughs when you nod energetically. eyes staring at you lovingly when you take another bite, han smiles.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

han walked into the room, letting out the loudest gasp ever. you turned around slowly, still busy with chewing the apple. both of you frowning, shock on your faces. “what?” you ask and han rushes to you, trying to push you off the chair. “are you crazy?! felix doesn’t allow anyone to touch his gaming set! get off or he’ll kill you like he tried to choke me when i touched his computer for a split second–“ jisung panics and you just shove the apple slice into his mouth to silence him. “he allows me to play on his set, though? look, here’s a house i built in the sims!” you chirp and show them the building, leaving han speechless and with flashbacks of the pure purge once felix found out one of them even tried thinking about logging into his account…

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

chan sighs heavily and passes you in the hallway. you give minho a questioning look but he just shrugs, returning to his phone. you plop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend when a sudden gasp rips from your lips. “dang, i forgot to take my phone” you grunt and are about to stand up when seungmin places a hand on your thigh, standing up himself. “i’ll get it for you, i was on my way to kitchen either way. do you want something cold to drink too?” he asks softly and you send him a wild grin, nodding. seungmin startes at you lovingly and off he goes. chan comes back and sits at his place, mumbling something underneath his breath… “of course he’ll get y/n’s phone but when i ask him, suddenly he’s asleep”. a blush creeps on your face, minho giggling at chan’s misfortune.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

“–and then he proceeded to slap my arm because i just borrowed his hoodie!” chan whined, crossing his arms. you laugh softly, patting his arm. “no, don’t worry. it’s nothing personal” you hum and see a text notification from your boyfriend announcing that he’ll be there in a second. chan looks at you, almost hugging a thanks when his eyes widen. “isn’t that his hoodie though? and his… shoes? and the cap too?!” he gasps. “yeah! he allows me to wear his clothes…? i didn’t want to say anything because you’d feel bad but…” you stopped once i.n entered the room. before chan starts to argue, jeongin simply reasons: because they look better on you than on chan.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang,, @nfrgirl

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vibingpyro · 5 months

Text

Hobie Brown Boyfriend Headcanons

This man, respectfully, would be an asshole. He's the type to kick the back of your knees when you're walking in front of him, and say. "Oops, my foot slipped." With a shit eating grin on his face.

But he's also a sweetheart, the type to patch up your bag if it got snagged on something or ripped a hole into it, even adding some cool patterned fabric to make it "pop".

Hobie gives me acts of service and physical touch love languages, always needing some form of his body touching you, be it an arm slung over your shoulder as you walk, his feet in between yours underneath the table while you eat across from one another.

This man, is not possessive but is protective, HUGE difference, he doesn't care if he sees you partying on the other side of the club, he would actually encourage you to let loose, but the minute someone makes you uncomfortable? He's glaring at them, whisking you away but not before "accidentally" shoulder checking the person as he walks past, and pickpocketing their keys, throwing them outside the first chance he gets.

Hobie, would be absolutely dreadful to wake up in the mornings, snuggling you close to his form and refusing to let go. "Love, schedules are propaganda, don't encourage it." He would murmur, half asleep still.

If you were sick, lord help you. This man would either baby you, or "help" (force) you to sweat it out. "Baby, jus let it happen, you want to feel better don't you?" He would say, wrapping you in blankets upon blankets yet still placing a cool rag to your forehead, monitoring your temperature constantly and chastising you if you tried to leave the bed, (escape).

Hobie would absolutely help you in dying your hair, having experienced more than enough of dying his own and previous mate's hair. He would put on a punk rock playlist on in the background as he helps parting your hair, nodding his head along with the music and murmuring/full on singing the lyrics, even encouraging you to join him. "C'mon, sing wit' me, you know you want to."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #atsv #across the spider verse #spiderverse

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papercorgiworld · 5 months

Text

Boyfriend material: Enzo Berkshire

A sweet but sneaky Enzo tries to win you over with his boyfriend skills. He works hard to make sure you’ll never want another man, so things get smutty.

This is a requested part two of ‘Boyfriend material’ about Enzo. Read part one here.

Warning: piv, no protection, oral fem receiving

Feedback is always very welcome.

Lorenzo was convinced that you were a 100% wifey material, now all he had to do was get you to think the same of him. The music was blasting and Enzo was showing off his best moves while his eyes searched for you. So far four girls had already thrown themselves at him and you were still nowhere in sight, making him down another glass of liquor. Maybe you were already with someone else, maybe you had left the party with someone, maybe you… Enzo shook his head trying not to think about you alone with some other guy. He urgently poured himself another drink and jumped on a nearby table, drawing the crowd’s attention with some fine moves.

A childlike joy filled him when he finally found you among the dancing people and you were staring right back at him, like no one else was there. A wide smile appeared on your lips and Enzo winked at you, while he mouthed the lyrics of a rather suggestive song. You couldn’t help but get flustered and laugh. This was his moment. The moment that you would tell your grandchildren about. About how you found each other in the crowd, laughed and fell in love. However, that didn’t happen because out of nowhere a drunk girl pulled Lorenzo towards her and started grinding against him. People started cheering and when Enzo looked over at you, you had already turned away from him. Realizing how bad it must’ve looked he immediately jumps off of the table and moves in your direction, getting annoyed by everyone who’s in his way.

When he finally finds you, he stops in his tracks at the sight of you in Draco’s arms. Your arm is slung around Draco’s neck and you’re laughing at something, while he moves a little closer with every dance move. When Draco leans in to whisper something or worse try to kiss you, Enzo panics. He steals a glass of booze out of someone’s hand and purposely runs into you, spilling the drink all over your dress. “Oh, Merlin.” Enzo says, faking innocence. “What the fuck, Enz!” You exclaim rather annoyed. “I’m so, so sorry (y/n).” As your eyes lock with Lorenzo’s soft ones you instantly forgive him. “Oh well, not that bad.” You reassure Enzo as you try to hide the sadness about your soaked dress. “Hey, I know a spell for that.” Hermoine comes to the rescue, but Lorenzo interrupts her. “No, no! No magic when you’re drunk, Hermoine. You might set the girl on fire if the spell goes wrong.” Hermoine frowns but before she can protest Pansy pulls her away, winking at Enzo.

“Follow me.” Enzo offers as he holds your hand. He leads you through the partying people, but you just watch his hand perfectly wrapped around yours. We fit like a puzzle piece. You have totally forgotten about Draco’s attempt to win you over and Enzo doesn’t feel bad about stealing you either. He might be sweeter than the average slytherin he still knows that I’ve you want something you’ve got to be quick and cunning. “Enzo, where are you taking me?” You’re met with an excited grin. “My room of course, I’ll get you something of mine to wear.” You let out a laugh, not taking him very seriously. “What?” He questions playfully. “You’re wearing an oversized shirt, aren’t you? I happen to have plenty of those things lying around.”

Once you were inside his dorm he couldn’t help but secretly stare at you and bite his lip, while you scan the room. Things weren’t going according to plan, but he still got you here. “You know I’m not that small, I need a big enough shirt.” He frowns as he searches in his closet. “This one’s even too big for me, it will do.” You nod and reach for the first button, to then look up at Lorenzo and his cheeky smirk. “Shouldn’t you turn around, while I change.” He acts baffled and you let out a laugh. “And miss the show? No, I’m definitely not turning around.” He closes the space between you two and you can’t help but heat up. You slowly work on the first three buttons, giving Enzo a glimpse of your lingerie. “I’m pretty sure I also spilled some on your bra, you should probably take it off as well.” You laugh and give him a playful slap. “Enzo!”

“Sorry, but you can’t blame a guy for trying. I mean you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You bite your lip and tug on his shirt, pulling him into you. “Can't blame a girl either.” You lean closer and he gets the hint. It’s a soft and slow kiss, despite the immense desire there was calmness between you two. However, this didn’t keep Lorenzo from giving his hands carte blanche and trailing your figure like you were already his. When you break the kiss he places a few soft and playful pecks on your lips. His hands fall to your ass and squeeze it before lifting you up and walking you to his bed. When he sits down with you on top of him, his hands dig into the flesh of your thighs. He pulls you against his body not allowing even a little space between you two. You swing your arms around him and drag a hand through his soft locks, before kissing him slightly rougher than before.

Lorenzo takes his time exploring your body, from slowly caressing your thighs to tenderly massaging your hips and finally moving under your dress. “How are you still wearing this?” Enzo complains and you don’t waste a second pulling your dress over your head with Enzo’s help. He reaches up to cup your cheek kissing you tenderly, while his naughty hand unclips your bra with one swift move. Your mouth opens mid kiss out of surprise and he grins into the kiss before taking his chance at dominating the kiss. He slips off your bra and starts kneading your breasts, his thumb circling your nipple and making you moan in pleasure all the while his lips are still on yours. “What are you doing to me, Berkshire?” You ask through moans and softly move your hips against his pants hoping to calm your throbbing cunt. “Darling, I’m just getting started. When I’m done with you’ll never want another man.” This promise alone turns your pussy into even more of a soaking mess.

Your continued movement against his crotch tells him your pussy is in need of him. He picks you up, places you on the bed and gives you one more kiss before quickly pulling down your shorts and panties. He stares at your wet pussy and you get a little flustered at your own neediness. He looks up at you, surprised to see you all shy and blushing. “You are so pretty.” He reassures before forcefully pushing your legs as wide as he wishes and leaning in, placing kisses along your thighs. He keeps a firm grip on your legs as his tongue darts into you, playing with your clit and having you tremble in pleasure. You repeat his name as you dig your fingers into the sheets for support. Soft sounds of ecstasy turn into cries for more, increasing Lorenzo’s hunger for you. You want to explain how close you are and tell him how much you love what he’s doing to you, for you, but you can’t manage to form a decent sentence. Thank Merlin, Enzo catches on and pushes your body down, making you lay down on the bed and fucking your pussy even harding with just his tongue and fingers. An euphoric cry and your pooling arousal tell Enzo he needs to let your body recover for a moment. He crawls over you, adoring your squirming body as you come down from your high.

Enzo places a kiss on your cheek and whispers a little confession. “I hated seeing you in Draco’s arms, so I purposely spilled that drink on you to get you away from him and underneath me.” Your mind is still hazy from your orgasm, but slowly a surprised look forms on your face. “What? Why?” He gives you another kiss. “I wanted you to be mine so bad, darling, you gave me no choice, but I’ll spend the entire night making it up to you.” He pushes himself off of you and starts undressing. You shameless stare at his hard, precum soaked dick and feel your pussy ache for him. Having your lustful eyes focus on his hard member has Lorenzo feeling more confident than ever.

You watch him carefully as he takes place in front of your entrance and grabs your legs to rest them against his shoulder. He gently diggs the tip of his cock inside of you, teasing you. As a whine leaves your lips, he smirks pleased with the effect he has on you. “I’m going to fuck you so slow and so deep.” He places a soft kiss on your lips and slowly thrusts his dick into you. You seriously worry for a moment if it's normal for a dick this hard to be so deep inside of you as he leans over you almost folding you. “Enz, so much.” You manage to mutter in between moans. “Don’t worry, you’ll stretch.” At a teasingly slow and steady pace he fucks deep into you at angle that has you seeing stars. You want to complain about his slow pace, opening your mouth to say something. But the sensations he makes you feel, keep you quiet and Enzo can’t help but grin at your failed protest. Being filled with more pleasure with every thrust, your body seems to reach a limit and your eyes get watery as your second orgasm hits you. All Enzo thinks about as he watches your blissful and pretty face is how he hopes you’ll stay with him.

You laying there, worn out and coming down from your high, has Enzo worried that him continuing to fuck you for his own needs might hurt. “You okay, darling?” You smile at his soft voice like he didn’t just angle you like a doll to then fuck you dizzy. “I’m better than okay, Enzo. I feel like I’m in heaven.” He bites his lip, pleased with his work and fucking into you only a few more times before climaxing. You always thought Lorenzo was handsome, but hearing him moan and pant while his eyes get shiny from his orgasm was just godly.

He lets himself fall next to you, clearly exhausted from the intense workout. “I overheard Pansy say you were looking for a husband- I mean boyfriend. So I thought I would show you my skill in an attempt to convince you.” You giggle at his little mistake and crawl closer to him. “I’m also a great listener and I play the piano.” He adds and you kiss his shoulder, making your way up to his lips. “I’m definitely considering you as potential boyfriend material.” You whisper playfully, earning a little butt squeeze from Enzo. Consider? Oh, darling, don’t taunt me. I’ll fuck you silly.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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m1ssunderstanding · 1 month

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Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #let it be

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson[6.1K] steddie smut, her boys, their girl, it was time to give in.

It had been a long time coming.

Too long, in fact, a couple of years, maybe three. It started at parties, when beer was involved, lukewarm and readily available. Cheap vodka, cheaper weed, lemonade and soda that had lost its fizz, mixed with tequila, the smell of smoke and the heat from dancing bodies.

It started with Steve, a friend who became more but not enough, a boy that you watched grow into a man, all lean muscle, tall frame, wild hair, stubble on his jaw that scratched at you when he pulled you into hugs. Then years ticked over and you broke down the barriers, ripped up the rule book and toed the line between best friends and more.

You looked at the boy for seconds too long, eyes lingering, his gaze fixed on yours, staring right back. You stopped blushing when he caught you, only raising your brows when he grinned, fond, appreciative, knowing.

‘Cause parties happened and you almost always found yourself on his lap, pressed to his side in a kitchen, sharing the same red cup and he let you move up against him when your favourite song came on, hips pushing back into his, his hands close to squeezing at your ass before he caught himself, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded.

It went on like that for a while, late night calls full of whispered secrets and what ifs, an edge of flirting, the promise of something filthy if the other gave in and let it happen.

And then Eddie arrived, pushed himself into your circle with a dramatic flare, settling down amongst Steve and Robin and Nancy like he’d always been there.

You liked the way he matched Steve’s height, how they both towered over you when they sandwiched you between them, all warm and solid, boyish teasing, rough hands, flirtatious remarks and kisses goodbye pressed to your cheeks.

And where Steve was soft - gentle with you, deliberate, so aware of how you felt, how you looked at him - Eddie was a little more wild. Messy curls, leather and ripped denim, a smile that told you that he knew how you looked at him, big brown eyes that matched Steves, a carelessness in the way he liked to accidentally brush past you, an arm over your shoulder when the movie started playing.

When Eddie found himself at the same parties as you and Steve, he took to standing with the other boy, their backs against the walls as they watched you move around the crowded living room, hand in Robin’s as you encouraged her to dance. And even when Robin gave up, the two boy’s kept their eyes on you, watched you move to the music with their shoulders pressed together, sharing the same joint that Eddie had rolled earlier.

Steve and Eddie shared a lot of things, you’d noticed.

Steve’s car when Eddie’s van inevitably broke down, Eddie’s stash of weed, a lighter, sometimes clothes when parties got out of hand and everyone crashed at the Harringtons. They shared cassettes, mixtapes, the key to your back door, the way they looked at you.

Maybe it was the cherry vodka on your tongue that night, maybe it was the way the strangers living room was filled with smoke and the scent of weed and damp skin, the way it was so crowded that you could feel the heat of the other people around you.

Maybe it was the music, a dirty strum of bass, slow drums, lyrics that made you think things you only thought about in bed, late at night and alone, hands pushed into your pyjama shorts. Maybe it was your short dress, the hem lifting every time you moved, the small strap slipping off one shoulder.

Maybe it was the two boys on the outskirts of the room, Steve sitting on the kitchen counter, a beer in hand, Eddie beside him, his elbow on the other boy's knee as he leaned on him. Maybe it was their eyes on you, roaming, greedy, wanting. Maybe it was the way Steve’s eyes went darker and hooded as he watched you, lips wet when he took a sip of his drink. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s jaw went slack every time you moved your hips a little slower than the time before.

Maybe it was the boys.

Your boys.

It was unsaid, an unofficial title that no one had been brave enough to say out loud but you were at a party surrounded by drunk, horny strangers and the other boys there were staring, hands twitching, eager to crowd into you and tell you how pretty you looked in that damn dress. But they were all sensible enough to know that wherever you were, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson weren’t far.

It’s why other girls didn’t get a look in, why the hands on chests, lips pressed to ears and coy smiles went ignored. Your boys were only looking at you, heads tilted towards each other, whispering things you couldn’t hear as they kept their gaze on you, smiles curling into smirks.

It only took you to lift your chin and smile at Eddie for him to come to you, squeezing between the writhing bodies, a ghost in the smoke, the shine of the red and purple glow that flashed from the fairy lights strung up around the room.

He took your hips in his hands, your back to his chest as he guided you against him, moving to the music, the smell of cigarettes and something spicy, Eddie’s cologne lingering on the collar of his shirt. But you were greedy, wanted more, wanted Steve and the other boy was still on the kitchen counter, legs spread, leaning back on his hands as he smirked, watching you both.

He was making you wait for it, an unnecessary unkindness because all three of you knew that Steve couldn’t say no - not to you. Never to you. But he wanted to see you make those eyes at him, all doe like and pleading, bottom lip pushed out into a pout as you let yourself fall back into Eddie, your head against his shoulder.

It was only when you threatened to turn in Eddie’s arms, to give the longer haired boy every ounce of your attention, that Steve moved. He snuck between the party goers, slipped between grinding bodies to find your own, his hands half covering Eddie’s as he held onto your waist, pressed you between him and the other boy.

It was something new.

You were well used to dancing with both boy’s, bodies pushed together, toeing that invisible line and pretending you didn’t see the way the other watched from the sidelines, hungry.

But this? This?

You were warm all over, the width of your sides covered by the expanse of two pairs of hands. Eddie’s hair was tickling your neck, his head dipped to brush his cheek over your own, your ass pressed into the denim of his jeans and god, he was hard, you could feel it.

Your own hands went to Steve’s chest, muscles flexing under your touch, a sharp inhale of breath that you could feel under your palms when you smoothed them up and over his shoulders, holding on for dear fucking life. He tucked his own face down to yours, caught your gaze in a silent question, a raise of his brows, one that asked ‘is this okay? Is this what you want?’

You answered by threading your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him to you a little tighter and Steve tugged you into him in response, your tits pressed up against him and shit, you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat, if he could feel the way it rattled your fucking bones.

Eddie’s lips skimmed your shoulder as you stared at Steve, goosebumps rippling across all that bare skin you had on show and Steve dipped his head, let his nose brush against your own, let it nudge at your cheek and Eddie was closer, brushing your hair away from your face so he could watch.

His hand squeezed at you, encouraging, his lips at the shell of your ear, his breath heavy as the three of you moved to the beat together. If people were staring, not one of you noticed.

You didn’t move when Steve crowded you further, pressed you into Eddie until you tipped your head back for him, let it fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, throat exposed for Steve to blow cool air over. The tip of his nose nudged at you again, drew a line up your throat until he hit your jaw and you were fisting your hands in the front of his shirt. Desperate.

He hadn’t put his mouth on you. Not yet. A line still uncrossed.

But then Eddie was tucking your hair behind your ear, eyes dark as he looked down at you, ringed fingers catching through your strands, cupping the back of your neck and coaxing you forward. Towards Steve. The bass dropped, the chorus kicked in and Eddie was looking at the other boy expectantly, lips parted, waiting.

His other hand left your waist, cupped Steve’s jaw instead, a thumb decorated in silver soothing over the line of his cheekbone and he was bringing him forward too.

‘C’mon,’ his touch said, ‘you know you want to.’

Steve’s forehead touched yours, skin slick, hot to touch and Eddie’s wide hands were back around your waist, hips grinding against your ass, a slow, dangerous burn.

Unholy, you thought.

He took his time, like he always did. Kept you waiting, teasing, needy. Steve held his lips over your own, hovering so you were breathing in what he was breathing out, sharing everything. His hands were still holding your waist, holding you steady for the other boy to move against you, holding you upright so he could wedge a knee between your legs, letting Eddie push you to grind up and down his thigh.

Then, when you were panting, when he felt your breath hitch, a missed huff of air over his lips, Steve kissed you.

It was innocent in the most awful way. A slip of his lips between yours, a slide of his top one, the curve of his bottom catching at yours. Teasing, testing, asking. One hand found your jaw, big enough that his palm covered most of your cheek, his thumb pushing at the plush of your cheek until your mouth fell into a pout for him and he could press his own over yours properly.

Eddie’s chin was hooked over your shoulder, nose pressed to the spot under your ear, watching the way Steve’s tongue licked over your lips, teeth catching. Eddie’s breath hitched when you opened for the other boy, tongues touching, a wet slide over each other, mouths chasing kiss after kiss. It was slow, controlled by Steve’s hand on your jaw, keeping you from taking too much without asking.

Then he was pulling away, nudging your face towards Eddie with his thumb, smiling at you like this was what the three of you did every Saturday, like he was telling you it was okay, that he wanted to share.

The crowd of drunks around you melted into a blur. The lights danced, changed from red and lilac to aqua and lime, a flash of colour of skin. Steve’s fingers hooked into the tiny strap of your dress, his knuckles running over the bare skin underneath.

You were too warm.

Where Steve tasted like tequila and beer, honeyed, sweet, Eddie was all smoke and spiced rum, deep and dark and he was greedier than Steve was, catching your lips with his own the second you leaned back into him. His hand covered Steve’s, both boys holding you as Eddie chased the taste of his friend from your mouth.

If someone had told you that there were other people in the room, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Can we take you home?” Steve asked, voice low and soft, Eddie’s lips on your cheek, pushing sweet kisses to it.

“Wanna come home with us, princess?” The other boy asked, Steve’s hands curling around the dip in your waist, thumbs smoothing over your stomach.

You nodded.

It’s how you ended up with Eddie’s leather jacket draped over your shoulders, the hem of it almost as long as your dress. Steve took your hand in his, led you through the crowd with Eddie’s hand on the small of your back and then you were walking home.

Step by step under the street lights, under the inky night sky, leftover over summer heat and the flirt of a promise in the air. The boys touched you all the way home, nothing too much, just enough to be considered a normal Saturday night.

Steve kept his hand joined with yours, teasing at how small your fingers were compared to his. He spun you this way and that, let you wander an edge too far before tugging you back to his side, grinning proudly at the way he made you laugh.

Eddie wasn’t far away, skipping around you both, mumbling a song neither you nor Steve knew but he’d grab at your waist from behind, nose at your neck until you squirmed, humming a beat into your hair as the three of you managed to get yourself back to Steve’s permanently intertwined.

And when you all reached the empty Harrington household, Steve flicked on the lamp by the sofa and watched you drop yourself onto it, kicking off your shoes and leaning back into the cushions. Eddie mumbled something about something, slipping away into the dark of the kitchen and you wondered if it was deliberate, it this was already planned.

Because Steve was coming to stand before you, nudging your knees apart with his own so he could drop between them, crouching between your thighs. His hands were hot on your skin, lips still swollen from how he’d kissed you before.

He looked pretty. Messy in a scandalous way, hair wild from your own hand, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. So, so pretty.

Your pretty boy.

“You okay?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin just above your knee. “With this?”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to. His touch? What had happened back at the party? What you were sure was about to come?

Either one of those had you nodding your head, brows knitted together because you were so desperate, so pent up, that you thought you might actually cry. But then Steve’s hand was on your jaw, your throat, thumb soothing over your cheek as he let you pull at his shirt , pawing at him.

“Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” Steve’s voice was honey, sticky sweet with an edge of the same neediness you felt. ‘Cause it had been years of skirting around each other, toeing the line that only Eddie seemed to be able to help you both cross. “Need to kiss you again.”

You pushed your mouth to his without any hesitation.

The boys hands ran up your thighs, pushed at your dress until his thumbs were pressed to the line between your legs and your underwear, palms curled around you so he could drag you to the edge of the sofa.

His tongue licked over you, licked into you, a slow, soft burn of a kiss that almost felt lazy. Like he knew he had you now. That there wasn’t any rush. There was no going back from this.

Eddie’s jacket still hung from your shoulders, a reminder of the boy who was only just coming back from the kitchen now, quietly entering the room to sit on the armchair across from you both.

He sprawled out, legs spread wide, ringed fingers playing with his bottom lip, like he was trying to feel what you both felt.

“You both look so pretty like this,” Eddie’s voice was only a whisper, but it cracked through the room, rolled over you like a storm.

It made you shiver, clench your thighs and drag your mouth from Steve’s.

You knew what he meant, ‘cause if you looked anything like Steve did - eyes drooping with pleasure, lips slick and glossy from each other, skin flushed and hair a mess - well, what a pretty picture, indeed.

Your dress was hitched high, splayed around the tops of your thighs with Steve’s hands half hidden underneath, legs spread wide with the boy kneeling between them, your greedy hands curling at the nape of his neck.

“Is that right?” Steve asked and his voice was just as low and flirtatious as when he spoke to you.

Eddie smirked and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Have you and Eddie-” Steve turned back to you, brows lifted, small smile, knowing. “Uh, have you guys done this? Before?”

The boys both grinned and Eddie leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes roamed over the way his jacket was still slung over you, Steve between your thighs. “With each other?”

“Or with another girl?” Steve finished.

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a white hot burn of jealousy flare in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers turned gentle as they played with the ends of Steve’s hair, his lashes fluttering at your touch. Surely no one else could make Steve feel the way you did? Right?

“Either.”

“Oh pretty girl, Steve cooed, voice fond, “you think we’d do this with someone who wasn’t you?” His mouth found your cheek, sweet kisses pushed to the apple of it, lips trailing to kiss over your lashes, the tip of your nose, your temple. “Don’t you know that we’re yours?”

Yours. Your boys.

“Both of you?” You felt shy, silly for asking, but Eddie was still out of reach, despite the way he was eyeing you.

He nodded, “of course, sweetheart.” Eddie meant back in the chair, eyes glittering dark in the low light. “Doesn’t mean we haven’t looked after each other though.”

Heat looked in your stomach, between your legs. You wanted to whine.

Your nose bumped Steve’s as you turned back to him, lips parted, watching how he smiled. You swallowed hard, chest moving too fast to go unnoticed.

“Yeah?”

Steve nodded, hands pushing into the dough of your thighs, a soft touch that kept you on edge, kept you grounded and you were waiting for him to talk, to tell you the dirty, pretty things that him and Eddie got up to when you weren’t around.

“S’real hard sometimes,” Steve murmured, “both of us havin’ to watch you in your pretty little dresses, pretending like you don’t see us staring at you.” A kiss, sweet and quick, on the line of your jaw.

“When you wanna come sit on my lap and I’ve gotta pretend that I’m not hard as a fuckin’ rock when you wanna cuddle into me.” Steve’s voice was syrupy, warm and sticky. “‘Cause you smell so good and you’re just so sweet, and you look at me with those damn eyes. I can’t ever say no to you.”

“Poor Stevie is wrapped ‘round your little finger, princess,” Eddie crooned from the corner. “You got us both feelin’ like we’re seventeen and ready to make a mess in our pants every time you get too close.”

“So sometimes,” Steve explained, “when you go home and leave us all alone, we gotta help each other out.”

You were panting, eyes fluttering shut as Steve mouthed over your throat, teeth grazing, tongue licking dirty at the line of your jaw.

“We talk about you,” Eddie continued, “how lucky we are to have you, sweetheart, such a cute little thing. A miracle you like hangin’ out with us so much.”

You whimpered, eyes opening and looking over Steve’s shoulder to see Eddie with his hand on his own thigh, thumb running lines over the outline of his cock.

“Oh yeah,” Steve whispered into your hair. “We talk about you all the time. What we wanna do to you, what we think you’d sound like, what you’d taste like. Bet you’re as sweet as you look, baby.”

Baby.

“Then we just can’t help ourselves,” Eddie sighed dramatically, grinning at the way you were tilting your head for the other boy, Steve’s mouth sucking a lavender coloured bruise on your throat. “You have us fuckin’ ourselves into each other’s hands just thinking about you.”

Fucking hell.

You imagined it, the two boys side by side in Steve’s bed, you and your other friends long gone as they got desperate with it, cocks hard, jeans shoved down just enough to wrap a fist around the other. Heads thrown back, lips on throats, jaws slack, pumping the other to the thought of you between them.

“Do you like the sound of that?” Steve asked, softly. His hand nudged between your thighs, fingers slipping under lace and he swiped a digit through your folds, felt and heard the wet slick there and he groaned into your shoulder. “Oh, fucking hell.”

He brought his finger back to his lips, sucked it into his mouth and smiled. Behind him, Eddie cursed, gripped his dick through his jeans and lay slack against the armchair cushions.

“Oh, I think she likes that, Eds,” Steve confirmed, not waiting for you to reply.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie laughed quietly.

It was the same teasing they gave you when you got too squeamish over a horror film, when you complained it was too cold just so you could steal Eddie’s hoodie and burrow into Steve’s arms.

“Does she taste as good as we thought, Harrington?” Eddie was lazing back, all faux calm composure because you could see the way the muscles in his jaw ticked every time you looked at him.

“Better,” the boy answered, voice wrecked, rough. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Steve kissed you as Eddie pushed himself from his seat, wandering over to the sofa so he could sprawl on the other end of it, his knee pressed to your hip. Steve’s tongue was curling around your own, making your gasp, little noises falling from your lips that he licked up like they were just for him.

They were.

Then his fingers were exploring again, thick and calloused as they nudged at your cunt, thumb spreading you apart a little so he could rub little circles over your entrance, huffing into your kiss as you tried to clench down on him.

“How long have you thought about this?” Steve asked you, but you could answer because you were too busy staring at how he offered Eddie his fingers, middle and pointer sliding past the other boy's lips.

Eddie hummed, lashes fluttering, sucking your wetness off of his friends' digits, sucking until Steve pulled them away from his mouth with a dirty ‘pop.’

“Huh, baby?” He prodded again, Eddie crowding in so he could fit himself into the space behind you, legs caging your hips, your back to his chest once more. “D’you do what we do? D’you touch this pretty little clit at night and think about Eddie and I?” Steve cooed.

You nodded, keening when Steve pressed his thumb to you, all swollen and slick already. He slid his touch over your clit, soft and constant, staring at you the whole time, smiling at the sounds he was getting from you, the glassy look in your eye as you clung to his shirt.

Then Eddie was pushing your hair back, hooking his chin over your shoulder to look down at the way Steve had your legs spread, lace underwear hiked to the side. He mouthed at your neck, matching Steve’s gentle pace, nothing too much, not yet.

You felt like you were already on fire.

“So pretty,” he gushed, curls falling over your face. He slid his jacket from your shoulders, chucked it to the floor and scattered kisses across your shoulders, using one ringed finger to make your dress straps fall down your arms. “Prettiest little thing, with such a pretty, pretty pussy.”

“Eddie,” you whined, arching into him, hips thrust towards Steve, chasing his fingers. “Fuck.”

“Oh sweetheart,” the boy replied, “what d’you need, huh? Want Stevie to be nice to you?”

“Steve’s always nice to me,” you mumbled, face burning with shyness despite the way your two best friends had you caged between their bodies, cocks hard for you, your underwear pushed to the side so they could see how wet they got you.

Steve made a soft noise for you, sticky and fond, a tap tap tap at your clit for your sweetness. You wriggled, pushed yourself into Eddie’s lap a little more.

“Hmm, he is, isn’t he?” Eddie replied, voice low and in your ear. He looked at the boy through his lashes, winked at him when you couldn’t see and said, “I think he could be so much nicer though, princess. ‘Cause I just know he’s fuckin’ dying to get his mouth on you.”

You made a strangled sound, a whine and a moan, maybe there was even a ‘please’ mixed in with it and your hands fell from Steve’s shirt to grab at Eddie’s curls, body stretched out between them both as you braced your arms on either side of his head.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” Eddie cooed, “s’good, ‘cause I really wanna watch that. Fuck, you gonna let me watch Steve eat you out?”

You nodded furiously, tilting your head to the side for Eddie, his mouth biting down on the same mark that Steve had already left.

“We wanna hear you,” Steve murmured, bending down over you to press a line of kisses along the tops of your thighs, curling his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. “C’mon, sweetheart, let us hear how pretty you sound.”

“Please,” you were begging, unashamed, eyes fluttering shut at the way the cool air hit your cunt, “please Steve, please Stevie, want you so bad, please.”

They were both smiling when Eddie cupped his palms under your legs, spreading you more, your thighs draped over his knees, creating more space for Steve to settle into.

“That’s it,” Steve cooed, “let Eddie help you, hmm? There’s a good girl.”

It was an electric buzz, his words, those words, the way they made you feel. And let it be known that your boys always paid attention, ‘cause Eddie was laughing and Steve’s lips were parted into a surprised ‘o.’

“She liked that, didn’t she?” Eddie snorted, hands wide and warm as they held your thighs open. “Felt her twitch, wonder if she got a little wetter, huh?”

Steve dragged his fingers through your folds, slid his fingers up and down a little messily so all three of you could hear the dirty slick of it. Eddie groaned and Steve was looking at you like you were his last meal and he was a man starved.

“Soaked, baby,” Steve whispered, crowding into you to peck at your lips, leaning past you to give Eddie the same sweet treatment. His lips were at your ear, Eddie’s hands stroking across your ribs, thumb tracing the underside of your breast, nipples peaked for him. “You wanna be my good girl, s’that it?”

He pulled back, watched Eddie drag your dress down until the material was shoved underneath your tits, back arched and chest pushed out for him to play with.

“Our good girl?”

You whined, nodding, hands pulling at Eddie’s curls before they landed on top of his hand on your legs, needing something to ground you as Steve blew warm air over your cunt.

“Been thinkin’ about this for so long,” he told you, letting the pout of his lips just graze over your folds. He pushed a soft kiss just above your clit, ran a finger down the seam of you, never pushing any further. “You drive us goddamn crazy, d’you know that?”

“Steve,” you cried out, wiggling in Eddie’s arms, trying your best to push yourself closer to his mouth.

“Ah, ah, princess,” Eddie scolded, “you gotta be patient. Steve’s gonna make you feel good, s’alright. Aren’t you, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t answer, not with words. He just sighed all dreamily as pushed his tongue out to taste you, flat and soft as he dragged it through your cunt. He groaned when you gasped, breath hitching and Eddie chuckled as he held you down against him, cooing softly in your ear.

“Oh baby, s’good yeah?” He whispered, wild curls tickling your cheek, your neck. He caught your chin with a finger and thumb, turned you so you were panting against his mouth, his own tongue coming out to lick across your lips. “I know, I know, Stevie’s just so fuckin’ good with that mouth, isn’t he?”

Steve hummed, thumbs coming up to pull at your folds, helping Eddie spread you out nice for them. He suckled at your clit, dipped the tip of a finger against your entrance and groaned at how wet you were.

It was almost too much. Almost.

He kept that up, that soft, slow, wet drag of the flat of his tongue against you, sucking at your clit when you started whining, arching up against Eddie. The other boy laughed, not all that unkindly, petting at you to get you to settle back down for him.

“S’wrong?” He asked, rocking his hips against your ass. Your dress had worked itself into a mess around your waist, chest bare, ass against Eddie’s crotch as he rutted himself into you. “You getting greedy, princess? You want more?”

You nodded, gasped out a ‘yes please,’ and tugged at Steve’s hair, made the boy moan so pretty as his nose bumped against your clit, his tongue dipping inside of you.

Eddie hummed, ran guitar string scarred fingers over the stiff pebbles of your nipples, trailing a palm down your tummy. “I could just slide my cock inside of you,” he mused, grinning when you whimpered. “Could fuck you nice and deep in my lap whilst Stevie boy keeps eating that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You were seeing white, stars and bright flashes of pleasure behind your closed eyelids, Steve’s tongue doing wonderful things over your clit, that same soft, push of his mouth on you. He sucked, gave you a little kiss and you wanted to cry.

“You think you’d like that?” Eddie kept talking, running his mouth in the same tone of voice he used for Hellfire, that low, gentle commanding cadence that made your toes curl. “Think you’d like my dick inside of you while our best friend licks at your clit? M’sure he’d let me feel his mouth too, huh? Bet you’d come real fuckin’hard for us, sweetheart, bet you’d look so fuckin’ pretty coming for us.”

You were squirming, both pairs of hands holding you down, holding you open as Steve lapped at you, his own cock hard in his jeans, rutting into the air trying to find some sort of release. He moaned into you, lashes fluttering, lips shiny with you.

“But you see, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed, talking to you like he was trying to explain why you couldn’t have another piece of candy, like he was taking away your favourite toy. “I can’t do that yet.”

You whimpered, eyes brimming with tears, gathering at your lash line because of how overwhelmed you felt.

“I can’t do that ‘cause Steve’s gotta feel that sweet, little pussy around his cock first,” Eddie’s voice was like chocolate, smooth and rich against your neck. He kissed the spot under your ear, sugary sweet, so lovely to you. “S’only fair, right? How fucking long you’ve both wanted each other.”

You nodded, jaw slack, eyes rolling ‘cause Steve was getting a little rougher, as if listening to Eddie talk was affecting him as much as it was you. He licked at you a little quicker, pushed his lips to your clit in a dirty kiss, sucking hard. You squealed, fingers yanking at his hair, his eyes wild for you when they flicked up to watch Eddie’s hands cup at your tits, pushing them together all pretty and obscene.

“S’alright, sweetheart, I know, I know,” he mumbled gently. “You’re Stevie’s girl, you were his first.”

Steve sucked in a breath, ragged, ruined. His fingers slid into you - two, thick and wide - too easy with how wet you were. He started curling them, a hot drag against you, in and out in and out in and out.

“M’so fuckin’ lucky he lets me share you, aren’t I?” Eddie leaned over, hooked his chin over your shoulder, smiling at how your head lolled against his own. He let a little line of spit drip from his lips onto your tits, over one nipple so he could get it nice and wet between his fingers. “You’re so good to me, letting me touch your boy, aren’t you? Such a good girl, princess.”

“Oh, fu-uck,” you cried out, skin warm, chest flush, Eddie’s big hands still pushing at your tits, cold rings catching at your nipples. “Steve.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, kissed cutely at your hot cheek and Steve moaned his response, finally bringing his mouth away from you to talk. He looked wrecked, a little wild with it all, lips swollen and glossy and so, fucking pretty.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured, voice rough and hitching, his fingers still slipping in and out of you, catching and dragging at all the right spots. “S’good? Like it when Eddie talks to you all sweet, huh?”

You nodded, gasping, legs trying to close themselves around Steve’s hand now that Eddie was preoccupied with touching you elsewhere but Steve tutted, tapped at your knee and hitched a thigh over his shoulder to keep you where he wanted you.

“Yeah, I like it,” you have told him, and god, you’d never sound so needy in your life.

“Oh, I know, baby,” Steve cooed, lips pouting for you, smiling when your eyes crinkled, closing in pleasure when he thumbed at your clit again. “Y’gonna put that pretty mouth around Eddie’s cock when I fuck you? Hmm? Think he deserves it, no?”

“Yeahyeahyeah,” you were babbling, hands wandering, one curled around Steve’s jaw as he leaned back into you to press open mouthed kisses along your thigh, the other intertwined with Eddie’s as he dragged his palm and yours over your tits. “He deserves it, Eddie’s so sweet, so pretty.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Steve mused, eyes on the other boy as he smirked, hand ghosting over the hard ridge of Eddie underneath you. Eddie jerked his hips, let out a rough moan at Steve’s touch and hissed when he rocked into his hand and your ass. “Hey Munson, d’you think our girl needs some practice first? Think we should make her feel nice and full?”

It was like he was asking if Eddie wanted to stay for dinner. He said it so casually, so softly, it made your toes curl.

Eddie didn’t answer, just laughed softly and kissed your neck, let two fingers graze across your bottom lip until he was tugging at it softly, digits slipping into your mouth and settling heavy on your tongue. You whined around them, sucked and flicked your tongue around the silver of his ring.

“Atta’ girl,” Eddie breathed, “so good for us, huh? Y’gonna come for Steve now, yeah?”

Both boys watched your lashes flutter, watched you nod and wrap a small hand around Eddie’s wrist. Steve hummed, dipping his face back down, mouth an onslaught on you, tongue flat and wide as he lapped at you, fingers a punishing pace as he fucked them in and out of you.

You fell apart in seconds.

Back bowing, biting down on Eddie as Steve kept his face pressed into you, fingers coaxing white hot pleasure out of you. He licked it all up, kissed your clit so sweetly, murmuring dirty, soft words the whole time.

You slapped at both boys, body pulsing, cunt throbbing, eyes glassy. They both laughed, not all that mean, more fond and Eddie let Steve pull you from his lap, bundling you into his own chest as you curled up there, face pressed to his neck as you panted.

“Y’alright, baby? Hmm?” Steve whispered, “still with us?”

“Yeah,” you gasped, “jus’ need a minute, Stevie.”

He nodded, grinning at Eddie over your head, pressing his lips to your hairline, smoothing soft kisses over you as you came down from your high. Eddie leaned forward, brushed back your hair, scratched nicely at the slope of your bare back.

“Oh, princess,” Eddie mumbled, “he got you good, huh?”

PART TWO: DIRTY, DIRTY BOYS

#steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

cards on the table - i

summary: soap and ghost place bets on who can sleep with you first

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader x john ‘soap’ mactavish

warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of alcohol, mentions of smut, objectification, sexting, ooc!ghost

a/n: I’m sorry this idea would NOT leave my brain, this is shameless fulfillment of my own sick mind, not proofread

masterlist

Your throat burns with the sting of liquor, a warmth beginning to spread across your skin as your hand is pulled by your friend Mia, dragging you towards the small dancefloor. The pub you had chosen to visit wasn’t renowned for being a place of large gatherings that required grand movements but you made it work, swinging around the floor to some old classic rock song you had heard before but couldn’t remember the lyrics to, laughing to yourself when you’d trip slightly over your own feet. You were visiting Mia in England, she lived there while you remained back home in North America, you hold her at arm's length, smiling before pulling her in for a hug that almost sends the both of you tumbling to the ground, your back colliding with a man behind you causing him to spill his drink a little.

You turn to him, “I’m so sorry, it was an accident please, let me buy you another” you plead to which he simply responds with a sod of through gritted teeth, whispering a quiet alright then to yourself before turning back to Mia, the two of you consumed in a fit of laughter, you rest your hands on her shoulders,

“God I’ve missed you”

She smiles, pulling you tight to her frame. “I’m gonna get another drink,” she says as you nod, watching her leave you alone on the dancefloor. You glance around the pub, not failing to notice two pairs of eyes practically burning a hole into you, you turn away quickly, moving to leave the floor but your path is blocked by a group of men standing shoulder to shoulder, you try to pardon yourself but the music is too loud, it’s no use, defeated you turn back around and walk the other way, trying to ignore the way the men's gaze follows you, you seat yourself at a booth near the back of the pub.

“Steamin’ Jesus LT, look at that lass” Soap nudges his head towards you, hips swaying on the dancefloor.

“She’s nothing special” Ghost states,

Johnny sighs, “Not that one” He grabs Ghost's shoulder, directing his focus toward you and pointing, “That one”

Ghost’s mind freezes, his eyes glued to you, you’re practically glowing under the lights, carelessly dancing to the music like it was just you in the room.

“Think I could get a shag outta her?” Soap asks, smirking to himself

Ghost turns to him, “Not on your life Sargeant”

“Ah, you want that one all to yourself? How about a bet?”

Ghost mulls it over for a minute, eyes falling back to you as your smile beams from your laughter, fuck it. “What’d you have in mind, Johnny”

Soaps grins, “Even playing field, first to get her in bed wins”

“You’re on”

You’re twiddling your thumbs, waiting for Mia to return before your eyes flick up, landing on his form as he slides into the other side of the booth.

“Hi, couldna help but notice your friend leaving you all alone”

You scrunch your brows, “No she's-” You lean your head beside the booth as you watch Mia's form grow further away, arms linked with a man “-right, there” you laugh a little.

“You’re quite the dancer” Soap says

Your cheeks flush with heat, your hands moving to cover your face, “You saw that, so embarrassing” you say shaking your head.

“Nah, it was sexy”

You pull your hands down slightly, eyes locking onto his,

“I’m Johnny,” he says extending a hand toward you, you take it with your own, introducing yourself. “So how’d a pretty girl like you end up here”

You stifle a laugh, “You use that line on all the girls?”

“Only the good-looking ones,” He says winking, forcing a huff of laughter from you. “I’m serious, we dinnae get many girls like you around here”

“I can tell,” you say, glancing over to see Ghost sitting alone at his table, a glass of whiskey in hand as he watches you like a hawk, it sends shivers down your spine. You turn back and Johnny is ordering drinks for the two of you, “You like scotch?”

“I do, it doesn’t like me though,” you say and he smiles. The two of you sit having small talk for a few minutes before you feel your drinks catch up to you.

“I’m just gonna step outside for some air, s’to stuffy in here” You smile at Soap and make your way out, desperate for a breath. The cold air hits you, cooling the heat of your skin, you turn to move against the outer wall before colliding into a firm obstacle, eyes on the ground you see feet,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Your head tilts up, high as you focus on his skull-clad face, “-going”. He stares down at you, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth before he pulls his mask back down, your body is frozen and he extends a hand down to help you up, cheeks flushing a bright pink as you realize the position you were just in, knees on the pavement in front of his looming figure, you accept his hand pulling you upright with minimal effort as you brush the dirt from your clothes.

“Your friend is in the bar”

“We aren’t friends” he states, watching your expression grow flat, “We just work together”.

You mouth a silent oh, turning to face the empty streets, “M’sorry if he was bothering you, he gets that way”

“Oh no, not bothering, he’s pretty funny actually”

Simon huffs, he’s not.

“You aren’t from here”

“Everyone seems to notice that, do I have ‘not English’ plastered on my back”

He laughs, “No s’just, you don’t look like you belong here”

You tilt your head in question.

“You’re very pretty is what I’m trying to say”

You giggle a little, feeling that familiar heat flush your cheeks, “You know if you’re trying to pick up girls, you might want to lose the mask”

“Yea maybe,” he says, pulling out another cigarette, lifting his mask to his nose before lighting it, you’re focused on his lips, plush and pink, his jawline firm.

“See something you like love?”

A nervous smile creeps up on your face, turning away to hide the tint of your cheeks as Simon smiles to himself, enjoying how easily flustered you get.

“You should probably head back into Johnny, I’m sure he’s missing you”

“I’m fine right here,” you say, eyes closing as you inhale the scent of the fresh air.

Simon nods, the two of you maintaining a comfortable silence before it’s interrupted by the swinging of the door.

“There you two are, leavin' me to drink alone,” he says

“Sorry, was just talking to.. uh-”

“Simon,” he says

“-Simon” you smile at him

“Well let’s go, plenty of chats to have inside” Soap urges you inside

“Actually I’m gonna head home, it’s getting late,” you say

“Well at least give me your number,” Soap says, extending his phone toward you, you grab it punching in your number before glancing up, noticing Simon's narrowed eyes. You hand the phone back, making your goodbyes as you walk away, the two men keeping a close watch on your figure as you leave.

“I think you should pay up now LT” Soap jokes, shaking his phone in Ghost's direction, Simon simply pushes off the wall, walking down the street,

“Was it something I said?” Soap shouts, eyes running over the numbers on his screen, I win this time Ghost.

Within a minute of entering Mia’s flat where you were staying your phone lit up, a new number illuminating your screen,

lovely meeting you, what are your plans for the week? x

You bite your lip, no doubt it was Johnny but you weren’t sure how you felt about meeting up with some stranger you’d gotten drunk with. You wait a few minutes before answering, deciding to mess with him a little to see what he wanted,

Sorry? Who’s this?

Immediately three dots pop up,

You’re cute lass I’ll give you that, how about coffee tomorrow morning? x

You mull it over, coffee seemed innocent enough,

See you then.

You decided against giving i’m your address incase it turned out that he was some psychotic killer.

The rest of your night consisted of a warm shower to try and sober up while you scrounged up whatever leftovers Mia had in the fridge, she hadn’t come back yet which meant she would definitely call you at 7am to pick her up from some guy's house.

The clock neared 1am, you weren’t tired yet considering most of your nights spent drinking ended closer to 4 in the morning, you settled into the couch with your plate of leftovers and flicked through tv channels, landing on reruns of some old English show.

You were halfway through your food when you heard a knock at the door, immediately assuming something like your friend had gotten arrested, to your surprise it wasn’t a policeman there when you opened it, it was Simon.

“How did you know where I lived?” You asked glancing around him in case he came with others.

“Friend of a friends”

“We’ll that’s creepy”

“Sorry, didn’t really think this through” He laughs, you fight the smile that creeps on your lips but you can’t help it, the way his eyes crease when he smiles, his hand nervously scratching at the back of his head.

“Did you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, thanks”

He makes his way in glancing over the decor of the flat,

“It’s my friends place, I’m just staying here while I visit”

“You don’t live here?”

“No, always wanted to but home is where the yankees are”

He huffs a laugh at your joke, “How long are you staying”

“Just a month”

“That’s it? barely any time at all”

“Yea well, not a lot keeping me here I guess”

“Is there a lot keeping you back home?”

His question takes you by surprise, you’d never thought about it, “Hm I guess not”

He moves around the room, sitting on the couch as you move to sit beside him.

“Love this show” He says

“Never seen it”

He looks at you surprised, “Right well now we have to watch it from the start”

You giggle thinking he’s joking but he grabs the remote and starts the series from the pilot.

The two of you settle in, the comfortable silence between you broken a few times when one of you laughs, you can feel his eyes on you as you watch, his stare making you nervous. He gets comfy, leaning back against the cushions and sliding an arm behind your head, you’re apprehensive but decide to lean your temple against his shoulder as the tv plays.

A few times he’d have to explain a joke to you as you weren’t up on English slang and a lot of their words made no sense to you, he liked it, talking to you about his home, maybe subconsciously influencing you to stay a bit longer than a month. It was strange, a handful of times he and Soap would have bets like this but rarely did Ghost ever care, usually letting Soap win even though it meant hearing about it for weeks, but this felt different, Ghost was drawn to you, something about you intrigued him beyond sexual gratification, the truth was he’d probably kill Soap if he laid a hand on you, be he couldn’t let him know that.

The hours you spent cuddled into Simon left your eyes tired, struggling to stay open, he must have noticed your fatigued state as he pulled himself from the couch and leaned down to pick you up,

"Hey, woah"

"S'alright, just moving you from the couch"

A small oh escapes your lips as you direct him to your room, he lays you down softly on the mattress,

"I should probably go then"

He watched as you nod at him, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, this action takes you aback, just a tender touch from such a large, scary man, a complete juxtaposition. You can't fight the sleep that takes over your body, he waits for a moment making sure you're comfortable before taking your phone and adding his number then making his way out.

You're dragged from your sleep in the early morning by the buzzing of your phone, screen flashing Johnny's name, you rub your eyes and reach for it.

"Good morning lass"

"Morning Johnny" You mumble

"Rough night?"

You think for a minute, the opposite really.

"There's a small shop a few blocks from the bar we were at, meet you there in half an hour?"

You silently curse yourself for agreeing to join him, not because you didn't like him, but more on the side of wanting to sleep in.

"Sure, see you soon," You say hanging up the phone

You get out of bed and do your best to make yourself look presentable, your late-night taking a toll on your skin, quickly splashing some cold water on it before running a comb through your hair. The weather was warm enough to wear a dress, the breeze outside kissing your bare legs as you stepped out.

You walked the few blocks to the cafe and your eyes set on him, standing out front.

“Bonnie” He greets

“How are you?”

“Better now” He jokes, handing you a small coffee, “Didn’t know what you liked, thought this was safe”

You thank him with a smile, taking a sip of the drink before the two of you make your way down the street. He points around at a few things, giving you the history of old buildings, recalling a few stories from his time spent in the city.

As you walk the uneven ground takes its toll, your foot slipping on a rock as you trip forward, his arms reach to grab at your waist, steadying you.

“Careful now”

You huff a breath, standing back up, he keeps his hand settled at the base of your spine as you walk in tandem. You find a small park and sit down on one of the benches, admiring the scenery. You realize quickly that Johnny loves to talk, you like it, enjoying the simple conversation as you feel a small buzz from your purse, excusing yourself you open the bag and grab your phone, the screen lit up with Simon's name and a picture linked.

“Anything important?”

“No just” You cut yourself off as you open the picture, it’s him in the mirror, he’d just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and body glistening with droplets, the only thing covering his modesty a thin white towel that leaves little to the imagination, your heartbeat races and your cheeks blush.

“You alright?” His question brings you back, turning your phone off and shoving it back into your bag,

“Yea just my friend Mia, she needs me to pick her up”

“Oh, alright, I’ll walk you back”

You smile at him as the two of you make your way back to the flat, somewhere along the way he grazed his fingers over yours, sneaking his palm over yours and holding it there, the gentle touch prompting butterflies to swarm in your stomach.

You reach the flat and he walks you over to your car, hand still in yours.

“I’d like to see you again while you’re here,” He says, confidence suddenly disappearing

“I’d like that too” You stare at him for a second, acting on impulse you lean in and kiss his cheek and he huffs a nervous laugh at the action. He runs his thumb over your hand,

“I’ll call you?”

You nod in response, your bottom lip tucked under your teeth slightly as you bid him goodbye. You watch him walk away, your smile dropping from your face as you reach into your bag grabbing your phone, opening it and clicking on Simons contact, it rings a few times before he answers,

“Hello?”

“What the hell was that?”

“You didn’t like it?” He’s cocky, even his voice gives that away, you feel butterflies swarm in your stomach as heat rises to your cheeks.

“What if I was in public”

“Were you?”

“Ah- yes matter of fact I was, with Johnny”

“Hmm”

“I don’t know what to say to you but just know I’m mad at you”

“You sound cute when you’re mad”

“Simon” You warn

“What are you up to tonight”

“I’m busy”

“Too busy to hangout with me?”

“Yes”

“You’re a bad liar love, I’ll pick you up at 8”

He hangs up the phone before you can oppose, huffing a breath to yourself you walk into the flat.

“Hey lady” Mia’s voice rings through the room,

“Hey I thought I was gonna come pick you up”

“Didn’t need to, Eric drove me back”

“Oh Eric, is he nice”

“No, but he’s so hot”

You giggle at her expression, never the one to choose a so-called good guy.

“So what about you, I saw you sitting with that guy last night”

“Johnny”

“Johnny, and? Is he good in bed”

“I wouldn’t know”

“Seriously? He looked totally into you?”

“We went for coffee this morning, I like him, I mean he’s sweet, definitely a flirt but sweet but..”

“But what” Mia leans in, intrigued by your words

“His friend Simon, he put me to bed last night”

“You slept with his friend!”

“No oh my god, no, he just showed up here after the bar, we ate and then he literally carried me to bed and just left”

“So like, he tucked you in?”

“I guess”

“Huh, never had that happen before”

“It’s weird right?”

“Not sure, but it does look like you’ve got two friends who both want a piece of you”

You hadn’t even thought about that part, two guys, both friends, who both want to take you out on dates.

“Lucky me” You sigh

“C’mon, let’s eat”

Mia makes dinner while you clean up, watching television for a few hours and gossiping about her new friend, you move to your room to change for your date with Simon.

“You leaving?”

“Yea Simon’s picking me up in a few”

“I’m sorry, you’re going on a date with both on the same day”

“He didn’t exactly give me time to say no”

Her mouth falls open as she laughs, “Oh you’re in trouble, babe”

You laugh at her joke, hearing a quick knock on the door and widening your eyes to Mia who does the same. She moves around the room, racing in front of you to open it, her eyes landing on Simon's large form.

“How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here for”

“I know who you’re here for, what do you want with her?” Mia grows stern, Simon stutters a little.

“Alright, leave him be”

You nudge her aside, stepping out of the house and walking down the front stairs.

“I want her home before 10! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Mia yells before closing the door.

“Is she always like that?” Simon asks, opening the passenger side door for you,

You step into the truck, “Always”

You drive down a few roads, listening to the radio as Simon pulls up into a small parking spot and turns the engine off. You look out the front window, there’s a small beach in your eye line, the waves lapping on the shore as the sun lowers over the horizon.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit”

“Neither did I” He replies, getting out of the car before circling to open your door, you quirk your brow at him and he just grabs your hand, urging you along. The two of you walk down the beach, your shoes in your hand as the water tickles your feet.

“So you were born here?”

“In Manchester yeah, moved around a bit with the army but home's always been here”

“That sounds nice”

“What?”

“Home, I guess I never really felt that”

“You don’t like living in America?”

“It’s okay, I just feel like I’ve experienced everything I need to there”

He nods in agreement, “Well I’m sure England would love to see you stay, for completely unselfish reasons of course”

“Oh of course” You giggle, “Can I ask a question?”

“Why do I wear the mask”

“Yeah”

“There’s a few reasons, mostly I’ve just grown attached to it over the years, plus it hides my strikingly handsome face from prying eyes”

You giggle, “So you don’t usually take it off?”

“Only if I really want to”

You give a small hum in response, “Did you want to swim?”

“Thought you said you didn’t bring a suit?”

“I didn’t” You tease, moving quicker in front of him as you drop your shoes, your arms moving to pull your dress above your body, leaving you in only your bra and panties. You glance back at Simon who’s awestruck, his hand dramatically clinging to his chest before he follows you, his own clothes thrown in a trail as he makes his way into the water. You look back at him wading towards you, smiling to yourself as you can see his face, he had removed his mask something about the action making your heart wrench before he pounced on you, strong arms wrapping around your waist as you’re taken in a fit of laughter.

“It’s beautiful,” You say, staring out at the vast body,

“Sure is,” He says, his chin resting against the top of your head

“So what happens when Johnny finds out you took me on a date”

“Ha, more like what happens when he finds out you got me naked in the ocean”

You release a small gasp, splashing him with water

“S’alright, I doubt he’ll be mad,” He says.

You push at him jokingly but he grips your wrists, his body lowering down before his arm collides with your stomach, lifting you from the water and throwing you over his shoulder. You’re screaming and giggling, legs flailing as your hands softly press against the skin of his back.

“Put me down!”

He just laughs in response, your efforts pointless as he walks your bodies to the shore before placing you down, your arms lock around his neck pulling him to the ground beside you. Your legs move to straddle his hips.

“I win”

“This time,” He says, his hands moving to rest on your bare thighs, you huff a laugh and quickly realize the position you're in, your cheeks heating up before you scurry off him, reaching an arm down to help him up. You’re breathless as you help lift him, his arm snaking around your waist as the two of you collect your clothes from the sand, dusting them off before making your way to the truck.

The air inside the car was warm, a mixture of the heat from your skin and your elated state, Simon rolls the windows down to cool off, the air breezing through his hair as his palm is on your thigh again. You stare quietly out the window as he pulls into your street, turning the engine off and moving around the car to open your door,

“Why thank you” You smile

He nods, taking your hand in his as he walks you to the door, you’re face to face, eyes staring up at him as his free hand clenches his balaclava, you stand on your toes, pulling him in for a kiss, he moves to cup your jaw keeping you close to him.

You pull back, “Goodnight Simon”

He tucks a damp strand behind your ear, “Goodnight love”

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