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kitten4sannie · 5 months

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ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

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leclerced · 7 months

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join the party | mv1 dr3

Summary: Max and his lady love are celebrating his third world championship when longtime friend Daniel Ricciardo interrupts then joins in on the fun.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: literally no plot. just sex. from beginning to end. do not read if you are a child, for the love of all that is good in the world.

Author’s note: i haven’t written in three years and this is not proofread, so i apologize that this is a mess. i quite literally dreamed about this and when i woke up, i immediately started writing it in my notes app so i wouldn’t forget. also max looks so bf in that gif i had to use it. got another one coming soon so i hope u guys like this one bc i wrote 10k today

She loved having Max at her mercy like this. She had been on her knees between his legs for the past thirty minutes, teasing him and enjoying the sounds he was making. He won the championship tonight, she was celebrating in her own way. His head was tossed back in pure bliss, one hand holding hers and the other in her hair, not guiding or controlling her, just grounding himself. They were both still dressed, she hadn’t taken any time to remove any clothing before pushing him onto the couch and pulling his sweats down enough to pull his cock out.

Neither of them wanted him to finish until he was in her, but with the way she was playing with him, he didn’t think he would last much longer. He was content to let her go at for as long as she wanted, or at least until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He was just beginning to wonder how her jaw wasn’t aching when they were interrupted by the hotel door opening. Max choked out a moan as he pulled her off him quickly, trying to cover himself and disguise what they were doing before he realized it was just Daniel.

Daniel stopped walking through when he saw the compromising position they were in. “What the fuck do you want?” Max groaned at the same time she rasped, “How did you get in?”

Daniel held up a keycard, “Told them I was Max and that I lost my keycard. Was just gonna offer my congratulations to the World Champ, but I see I’m interrupting the party.”

She smirked, “Why don’t you join the party?” She heard Max’s breath hitch in his throat, but he didn’t object. Daniel was stunned into silence, but she didn’t take it as a no, so she turned back to Max and pulled the pillow off his lap. “S’pose you can just stand and watch, if that’s what you’re into, just close the door.” She said, and with that she took Max’s cock back into her mouth. Max patted the couch next to him before wrapping her hair around his fist. She heard the door close and a shuffle of footsteps before Daniel was sinking into the couch next to Max, their thighs touching. She always loved Daniel’s thigh tattoos, she thought passively.

She nearly brought Max to the edge again before she suddenly pulled off when his grip tightened and his moans changed pitch, for the third time that night, only one of which was for Daniel’s interruption. She shifted positions so she was between Daniel’s legs instead of Max’s, tapping Daniel’s thigh softly and murmuring, “Your turn?” At his nod, his lips forming a soundless “yes”, still seemingly in too much shock to form words. Her hand slid up his thigh and under his shirt for a moment, fingers stroking across his abdomen before her fingers dipped into his waist band. She gave a small tug his shorts and his hips instinctively lifted to let her pull them down. Max would have been offended that she stopped just before he came, but he knew her game all along, he couldn’t act surprised now.

While she sucked Daniel’s cock, Max slid from the couch and pushed the coffee table back before settling in right behind her. He was thankful she chose to wear a skirt today, it gave him easy access to what he wanted most, he thought as he flipped the back up. Her panties were an easy obstacle to get past, smirking to himself as he gripped the lace hem and ripped, the slinky fabric tearing easily at his strength. Normally, she would complain, but in the moment she didn’t even register what the sound was until the cold air hit her hot pussy, and even then, she had her mouth too full of cock to complain.

He licked his lips at the sight of her dripping cunt. “Aww, schatje, sucking our cocks got you all wet, hmm?” She moaned around Daniel and felt his cock twitch at the vibrations, so she did it again and he moaned her name and gripped her hair tighter in response. Max slowly slid one finger up her slit, nuzzling it against her clit before sliding back and slipping inside of her. He made quick work of her, it wasn’t long before he was adding a second finger and stretching his thumb to rub her clit teasingly.

Soon enough he was tapping her thigh to warn her and pulling her hips back, forcing her to shift her position without taking her mouth off his best friend. It didn’t work, she immediately pulled away to look at Max when she felt the head of his cock against her entrance. Her eyes fluttered dazedly at him, and he gave her a small smile. Despite how wet she was, she could feel the precum from his cock against her, could feel that as much as she was dripping for him, he was too. She turned her head to look up at Daniel and was shocked when she saw he was leaning over her to watch Max tease her cunt with his cock. Heat spread through her body as Max slowly pushed inside, and she wanted to lean back and press herself against him, but she had her fun with him, it was his turn now.

He sunk all the way in, letting her adjust to him while he rubbed her hip soothingly. She took the moment to wrap her lips around Daniel again, sucking softly on the head and stroking with one hand. He settled back onto the couch, eyes refocusing on the wet mouth around him instead of watching Max’s cock inside her. Max wanted nothing more than to fuck her dumb, to bend her over the couch and fuck her until she was crying and begging for more and less at the same time. That would have to wait, she had to split her focus between the cock between her legs and the one between her lips. He would have his way with her later.

He started moving slowly, pulling out until just the tip was still inside and using his hand to swirl it around the way she liked- scratch that- loved. He repeated that motion a few times, sinking all the way inside her, then pulling out and teasing her entrance with his tip. She practically purred at the sensation, arching her back and reaching her free hand back to pull him closer, she couldn’t see him, so she really just waved at him and he got the hint, leaning forward and pressing his chest against her back.

As he leaned into her, he snapped his hips forward and he heard the slick pop as she released Daniel from her hold and moaned loudly, her cunt clenching around him at the sudden change in pace and force. Before she could get her mouth back on him, Max was pulling her top up her body and over her head with one hand and snapping the clasp on her bra with his other hand. She fumbled to raise her arms and then drop them down again as he tugged the bra away immediately after the shirt was gone, but didn’t fuss as his lips feverishly started kissing her neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking and surely leaving marks to be seen in the morning.

He set a slow and steady pace from there, knowing after the nearly hour long edging she gave him he wouldn’t last long. He hadn’t thought about it until now, but she hadn’t been touched until now, and he could tell how close she already was to falling over the edge and he had barely done anything. He slid one hand between her legs, pressing two fingers on either side of her entrance, feeling his cock moving in and out of her and her cunt throbbing around him before sliding the two fingers to her clit and swirling them around the bud.

Daniel’s fingers had replaced his in her hair, and when Max glanced up he saw how fucked Daniel looked. He had never seen him like that, eyes blown out and lips bitten red. As if he could feel Max’s eyes, he looked up from his lap and straight into Max’s eyes. A grin broke out on his face and he released one hand from her hair, raising it for a high five. Max laughed, of course Daniel would be asking for a high five mid fuck. He pulled his hand from her hip and felt her body sag slightly at the loss of support, slapping Daniel’s quickly before finding its place again.

Suddenly he found himself irritated with the position she was in, knowing he could be deeper in her, and he pulled the hand on her clit back up to her hips and jerked them up, forcing her onto her knees. He worried that it may have been uncomfortable to move with his cock in her, but the thought left him as soon as he felt her clench at the new position. “You want to come, schatje? Make Danny cum and you can, how’s that sound?”

Daniel moaned in agreement, mumbling through it “That’s right, doll, ‘m real close jus’ keep goin’.” She looked up through her lashes and saw Daniel’s head tossed back and she suddenly had the urge to mark up his neck the way Max was doing hers right then. She ignored the painful ache in her jaw and focused on her job at hand, making the Aussie in front of her cum. She focused on the head of his cock, leaving her hand to stroke up and down as she switched between licking and sucking softly at the tip, her free hand cupping his balls and she could feel how close he was. He finally looked down at her, his chest heaving as he brought one hand up to drag across his face and he smiled, genuinely smiled at her before she took more of him into her mouth again and the smile fell as he cursed. It was music to her ears.

She was hoping he was as sensitive as Max was she suddenly sucked harder than before and was met with a shot of cum coating her tongue and a shout as he tried to warn her, his fist tugging at her hair but she took him all the way to the back of her throat and swallowed around him. His legs twitched against her and she watched as his eyes scrunched shut and his hell fell back against the couch. When he nudged her with a leg and tugged a little more forcefully at her hair she finally relented, grateful that she could finally focus on how good Max was making her feel. She been holding back her moans and focusing on Daniel, but as soon as he was out of her mouth she couldn't control it anymore.

Max seemed to feel the same way, because his hips sped up and the hand on her hip was suddenly gripping her chin, turning her face and messily kissing her. She brought one arm to rest on Daniel's thigh for support and the other reached behind her to grip at Max and this time, she was able to find his hair as he dropped his head and started kissing her shoulder again. Her mind was reeling from the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel him everywhere, all over her, and she didn't even know if she was coherent as she moaned "Max- baby- I'm so close- please-"

He nodded, teeth scraping against her skin as he bit her neck right below her ear, before cutting her off. "I know schatje, I know, want you to cum for me,” his voice was right in her ear, his lips brushing the shell of her ear and it sent tingles up her spine. "Been waiting all night to feel you gushing around me. Let you play with my cock in your mouth for an hour, teasing me. Shouldn't even let you cum for how many times you pulled off just before I coated your tongue." She giggled a little and he paused to nip at her neck again, harder this time, and sighed against her skin. "But I wanna feel it around me, so why don't you make me feel good, huh? Cum around me won't you?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was there. Her entire body was shaking, he's certain she wouldn't even be upright if it weren't for having one hand on her lower stomach, fingers stretched to assault her clit and and one gripping her hip tightly. It should be painful, she knew there were going to be bruises tomorrow, the way his fingers were digging into her skin was sending waves of pleasure through her body. She bit onto Daniel’s thigh to keep from screaming when it first hit her, Max’s words sending her into a frenzy but she was quickly releasing her bite, apologized and kissing his thigh.

He came with her, biting her shoulder and groaning her name, it was all he could do not to collapse on top of her as it hit him. He didn’t stop moving, fucking them both through their orgasms until she was incoherently mumbling against Daniel’s thigh and pushing his head away from her shoulder. He kissed her back one last time as he slowly pulled out of her, relishing in the whine that slipped from her lips as be did so. He slumped back against the coffee table, sharp edge biting into his back, but he didn’t care. He had a perfect view of her slumped over Daniel’s lap, with his cum dripping from her cunt. If Daniel weren’t here, and she weren’t still twitching from her orgasm, he would flip her over and go for round two.

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kaicubus · 1 year

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Distraction P2 | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, fluff confession, slight VERY SLIGHT angst bc i was listening to enchanted by taylor swift at one point in this, closure, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° : demanding answers from your rival who stole a kiss from you unexpectedly at the poe cup to distract you, you confront him, this time ready to catch HIM off guard.

word count ✩° : 3.1k

authors note ✩° : a performance was demanded of me. and now i have delivered. ENCOREEEEEEEEEE!!! anyways. OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS EEHEHHEHE GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET...hope you enjoy...also expect more fics of xavier bc i love this show and i love him.

From the time you lost horribly due to a certain distraction to the time now, your mind has been scrambled to the point of irrevocable recovery. Still, you didn’t say anything to your friends or your teammates, especially about your plans for tonight.

The feeling of that kiss had been lingering for hours on your lips, how could he catch you off guard like that? You wanted to be angry, you wanted to throw all the books off of your desk and wreck everything around you, but you physically can’t. It’s almost as if the feeling of Xavier’s hands trailing down your waist were keeping you from it all.

You sit up in a panic and shake your head, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/n it’s kinda hard to ignore the fact you lost that completion for us but it’s even harder to pretend like somethings not on your mind. As your friend, we need to talk.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about.”

She sits down next to you on your bed and leans back, hugging her knee to give her stability, “So what I heard was that only you and Xavier made it to shore. Could it be something with him?”

Before she can ask more agonizing questions, you sit up and throw the doors of your closet open. “Woah. Calm down.” F/n says softly, “Look if you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to. I just want to know if—“

“The reason I didn’t get back in time.” You ignore her, huffing roughly, “I was distracted. That’s all that needs to be said.”

“A bit of both, F/n. A bit of both.” With that, you get dressed into a more comfortable outfit, adjusting your hair and doing other rituals to finalize your outing. It should be fun.

“Y/n.” Xavier raises his brows, “Didn’t think you’d actually come. Considering you hate me and all.” He takes a moment to take in all of you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, he can’t help but smile to himself. After all, you look cute, so who is he not to appreciate that?

“Afternoon, Xavier.” Your eyebrows lift on instinct, expressing your disapproval of your presence in front of him already. He has his arm propped up against the frame of his door and the way he leans onto it so casually makes something inside of you self implode. Complete with a parted grin, Xavier locks eyes with you and waits for your response.

“I-I don’t hate you.” Keeping composure wasn’t an option. Looking at him in the eyes even once would remind you of that kiss. In fact, looking at him in general was a guaranteed flashback. “At least right now. I have questions.”

“I think I have answers.” He shrugs, “Though I think that kiss kind of cleared everything up—“

You cut him off with a rough sigh, “Yeah. It’s about that.”

“Ok, so…You going to come in? Or are we going to talk right here?” He glances up and looks around at all the passing students. With a small nod, you find yourself entering his dorm room. Hung drawings and strung along polarioids line the walls, giving the overall atmosphere of the room an artsy aesthetic. It’s not as clean as yours, and he lives alone ever since Rowan was expelled from Nevermore, but it’s still nice.

“Sorry about the mess,” Xavier’s voice tugs you back into reality, “I forgot to clean up. The Amontillado’s and I went out for dinner and you know I had a killer steak, almost lost track of time before I realized that I had a possible date with Y/n L/n. I of course didn't want to miss that.” Even though the words coming out of his mouth are cocky and prideful, he looks at you like all of what he’s saying is exaggerated and sarcastic. He’s good at confusing you.

Still, his subtle gloat makes you roll your eyes, “Was that necessary? The steak? The celebrating?”

“Oh absolutely.” He dips his head down and grins, “Let’s talk on my bed.”

“Sure.”

The two of you sit down on the edge of his bed, and now it becomes increasingly obvious that you're the only nervous one between the two of you. Xavier doesn't shy away from the fact either, instead he steals multiple glances at your fidgety hands and blushed cheeks and grins mischievously.

“Do you remember the kiss? How it even happened?” You start, looking him directly in the eyes.

He raises a brow and continues his grin, “Uh, yeah. Other than the fact it was a few hours ago, I don't see why I’d forget it?”

“You didn't answer me from before. I know that now you told me all of that to distract me from the race, but why were you so adamant on telling me that you like me? You could've kissed me and did that, since it was a fool proof plan.”

“Fool proof?” Xavier raises his hand and curls it to his lips, “Me kissing you, was fool proof? For a distraction? Honestly, if you admit it was, I’m not complaining. But I didn't know you could tell me that if I ever tried kissing you before, you'd accept it.”

Usually, you’d be annoyed. Your face would burn with aggression and you’d feel violent remarks bubble in your throat, but now you can’t even think of anything mean to say. Just another question.

“Did you kiss me just to kiss me? Or was it all just a plan?”

Hearing the question makes Xavier stop his teasing. Lip tucked between his teeth to keep quiet, he looks at you, half wondering if what you just said was serious or not and the other half choosing his next words extremely carefully. Though it doesn’t help the throbbing in his chest seeing the way your head is tilted just enough so that you're looking up at him through your lashes, too nervous to hold eye contact for so long.

A brief silence washes over you both before Xavier rubs the back of his neck, pensive in thought. His feeble attempt at making himself seem calm and collected only makes him shift in his position next to you, accidentally brushing his hip against yours.

“No,” Xavier says, his voice just above a whisper, “I meant everything I said. I never wanted to be better than you, I just wanted to talk to you. I like you a lot, Y/n. I never lied about that.”

You show the side of your face and let your shoulders fall, “I never said you lied about it. There’s nothing you can lie about in a kiss like that. You deceived me, not lied.”

He rolls his lips into his mouth and rubs his hand onto his thigh, “You know, it’s not really deception if I meant it all. I was dressed as a jester you know, secretly funny despite being advertised as a joke.”

His laughter that follows after makes your heart tremble. Looking back at him, your smile falls back into nervousness, “I don’t…I don’t not like you.” You stare at his lips, scared to meet his gaze that’s very clearly fixated on you, “It’s just. I don’t like how you make me feel.”

“How exactly do I make you feel, Y/n?” His eyes travel down, “...I know I make you mad.”

“I’m mad because of the way you make me feel, Thorpe. You walk around like you’re some enigmatic being with all the substance and deep personality in the world. You’re always in thought. Maybe that’s why you do better than me.” You sigh, “I can’t focus right. Probably...probably because I’m always thinking about you.”

Even though for once you’re not yelling at him, Xavier listens to you with genuine interest. You didn’t even know that was possible, frankly, neither did he.

You turn your head up to meet his gaze when you realize he hasn’t said anything all this time. “Xavier?” You say softly, “Why did you kiss me?”

He sways back, draping his hand over yours, “You looked like you needed to be kissed. Maybe that’s why. But it seems like no matter what answer I’ll give you, you’re not going to be happy,” he says, pressing his thumb softly into your knuckles, “And all I want is for you to be happy. At least with me.”

This time, you don’t shy away from his touch. There’s not an ounce of nervousness. In place of it, your body acts on its own and you bend more towards him.

“Can I ask a question this time?” Xavier speaks slow and cohesively, “If that’s ok?”

You’re not sure why, but his question intrigued you. What did he have to ask? What more was he confused about? You stop yourself when you realize that these may be questions running through Xavier’s head when he looks at you. When he looks at you, huh, the look on his face makes your ears heat up and your heart skip two beats at once. Of course, scientifically that impossible, but Xavier makes facts feel wrong in your mind. Just like how it was a fact you hated him. Or it was a fact he wanted to be better than you for the sole purpose of humiliating you. Just as those were shot down and proven to be wrong, so have your previous feelings, now shedding new light onto the hidden ones you've kept locked away.

You could feel his smug face staring down at you, as you wait silently for the question.

“How exactly do you feel about me?” The question falls from his lips, the same lips that’d kissed you speechless earlier today, “Because when I look at you, I can feel you hate me, but you said that’s wrong. I don’t know what’s right and wrong when I’m with you. Usually I’d want this to end but, I just want to know, Y/n.”

How you feel? About him? Your eyes trip into his inescapable stare and suddenly you feel your throat start to close. Of course, you didn't want to leave him short or even worse, assuming your feelings towards him because anything that isn't what you say is wrong and you need to communicate that with him but you just can’t. It’s so easy just to swallow your pride and talk, but every second of silence jabs the knife of uncertainty deeper and deeper.

But you have to say something.

“Xavier—”

“Y/n—” Suddenly, he interrupts. Not intentionally, but because you were silent for so long.

Maybe you and him aren't so different after all.

Xavier’s quick to apologize, but you're faster. “Sorry, go ahead.” The heat on your face only grows hotter so you're forced to pull the collar of your shirt away from your skin.

“No, it’s ok, I was just going to say something stupid.” He shakes his head, causing his long hair to sweep along his perfectly cut jaw, “Go on.”

You roll your shoulders back and inhale sharply, “We both know I don’t like being second best—”

“Obviously.”

You glare at Xavier.

“Right, sorry.”

“And we both know that that obviously has been happening—”

“Not intentionally.”

“XAVIER.” Your rival laughs at your temper, only for you to grind your teeth together in frustration, “I’m trying to tell you how I feel about you—like you ASKED—but you keep interrupting me! PLEASE! Be quiet!”

He chuckles a bit before nodding, “Yes ma’am.”

You decide to ignore that. For now at least. Instead, your nervousness returns now that the uncomfortable silence has returned, but at least you have the spotlight now. An ache in your chest spirals into your stomach as the thought of ‘now or never’ finally settled in. If telling Xavier how you really felt all this time would mean relief from all the negativity bottled up inside you, self loathing tendencies and being the human embodiment of a locked box with no key, you were willing to take the risk of him making any comments towards you.

Reaching out, you take your finger and place it on top of his as a sort of reassurance that everything will be ok if you know this moment is real. He glances at your small gesture, his lips cracking into an unnoticed smirk, and curls his slender finger under yours, hugging it almost.

"I guess there’s no better way to say that...I return your feelings. It’s ironic too because, for all the time we spend together, even if it’s not quality time or anything, I like it. I like it a lot. You actually make what I do fun, I realize that now.” The words become even easier to say, “No matter how much I push you away, it makes you ten times stronger. And I don't think I want to let that go. What I’m trying to get at is I like having you around. I don’t know if it’s your presence, or just you in general, but I don’t want to let go of it any time soon.” It takes another moment before you finally say, “I like you back, Xavier.”

Silence, again. That was...something.

Almost as if the quietness wasn't deafening enough, a small chuckle breaks it and somehow makes the whole situation all the more unbearable.

“What?” Your voice is exasperated, “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” He smiles and cuts his hair down the middle, allowing it to fall from each side loosely, “You know you do this thing where when you're talking, you kinda,” he swerves his wrist in a circle and motions in front of his face, “I don't know how to explain it, but it’s really cute.”

His smugness is infectious. Like a virus, it travels into your system and makes you avert your eyes to wherever he isn't looking to distract yourself from the overwhelming palpitations your heart is running. “Hey,” his deep voice speaks, somehow closer to you now, “Is there maybe something else you want to tell me?” Xavier mutters.

“Actually, yeah.” You nod, enveloping your other hand over your ear and looking to the other side of him for a brief moment, “I want you to give me another answer.”

“To what question?”

“My feelings.” You whisper comfortably, “Not like last time. Not as a distraction. As a real thing.”

“Are you sure?” Xavier whispers too kneading his hand into yours, “Like, you want me to kiss you again?”

You feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs when you nod your head, “Please.”

He hesitates a little before bringing his cold palm directly to your collarbone, using his thumb to lead his movements to where he wants it to be. The gentleness of his touch makes you even weaker than before. Just barely, the tip of his thumb stretches the corner of your lip, bouncing it back into place when he feels like he’s satisfied. Little touches like that make your head reel. You don't even care that you want to ask how he knows all the right places to touch you, you just close your eyes and let him. Before you know it, that crashing sensation returns. Fuck, have you missed it.

Very quickly, Xavier feels a jolt hit your body as it tenses against his grasp, but as quick as it came, it leaves and you give in. An arm wraps around you, catching your waist and pulling you closer to him, his unoccupied hand rubbing slow and small circles on your back smoothly while he takes the bottom of your lip and nods deeper into your mouth. He’s in no hurry to do anything more, but you can tell he wants to stay here with you for hours. It’s all easily told with his not so secret grabbing and pulling that in this moment, you're all he wants.

There’s something surprisingly methodical, coming from him, in the way he takes in your lip, sucking gently on the pliant skin, then scrunching your hair in between the spaces of his fingers. There’s one spot his touch lingers on though, the nape of your neck. The spot, with an ache for much needed attention, makes you squirm into him when he runs his thumb over it accidentally—almost like a sweet spot of yours Xavier was sure to abuse in the future.

You don't notice it at first, but eventually you realize that through the total mind fuzziness of when he kisses you, you've both ended up further up than you were when you first started on his bed. The way time passes doesn't seem real, kissing him feels like nothing else matters in the world. In fact, being around him, in his dorm room, and just looking at him was all it took for you to forget about everything.

When he eventually pulls back, his body lifting away from you—a second of fleeting panic shoots through your chest at the sudden space between you both. By the solemn expression on his face, eyes hooded with pure relaxation and satisfaction, he can tell you enjoyed the kiss a little more than you should've.

“So, does this mean that I can take you out on a proper date now?” He mutters against your lips, “Because I’ve been having these dreams of taking you to this place out in town. You know,” Xavier kisses his teeth, “Gotta listen to the dreams, Y/n.”

His smugness is now just laughable, so you give in and throw your head back chuckling, “Let’s listen to them then. I’m free tomorrow?”

“So am I.” He leans back in and gives you another soft, quick kiss but instead of pulling away this time, he remains close to your face, his fingers interlocked with yours, “I’m really glad we figured this out, Y/n.”

“Me too.” Your chest flutters.

No one told you how to feel after your first kiss with your sworn academic rival. There were no rules to base your feelings on and there was certainly no expectations to meet up to. But you weren't confused anymore, that was the more important issue. Your head is clear as it’s ever been. Thanks to him, Xavier made that all possible.

#xavier thorpe #wednesday netflix #wednesday xavier #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fanfiction #wednesday #xavier thorpe fanfic #wednesday fanfic #wednesday fic #wednesday addams #kaicubus

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sykosugu · 1 month

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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | one

♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go. a geto suguru au

♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance

♧ aw smut, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, both are being manipulative in their own ways, cum play, choking if you squint, I think that's all tbh its all so numb to me at this point. if I missed any pls let me know!

♡ currently: completed

♤ taglist: closed

♢ wc: 3.4k

♧ carlile speaks:chapter one is finally here! I hope you're all as excited as I am. @celestie0 did get a lil sneaky sneaky bc I can’t resist her reactions! but based off of said reactions, I'm thinking you're all going to like this one! enjoy my babies!

♡: previous part | you are here | next part

You often sat back and thought of how you and Suguru came to meet. The infamous meeting outside the bank that nobody ended up knowing about. Then, looking at now, the “home” you’ve created in this hotel room. Suguru, still under the guise of the detective on your case, the hotel room in his name is down the hall; he never actually stayed in there. He’d never let you out of his sight long enough to sleep in a different room. It’d been that way since that very day. You’ve been attached ever since. Over the course of your time together, he’d learned almost everything about you. Or so he’d thought. You told him a plethora of information; but not all of it was your information. Bits and pieces of people’s identities you’d stolen in your time as The Red Queen. Bits and pieces of your truth mixed in with their truths. You’re still not sure if you’d tell him the truth now, for you fear how he’d look at you now after trusting you so much.

Much to your initial dismay.

Being attached to a cop was less than ideal. He didn’t understand your lifestyle. He was details and late night stake outs. You were lavish and luxury.

And a criminal. But semantics.

It took a lot of convincing for him to let you continue your scores; he was not too keen on it. But with the promise of him being able to help, he eased up on the opportunity.

In your mind, everyone usually got their items back. If they met your demands. Usually a large lump sum of money transferred into an untraceable off-shore account that would then be deposited into another untracable account that only you had access to, but was in a fake name.

Suguru was not a part of your plans. Then again, neither was getting caught and taken by him. But then again falling for him was the furthest thing from your plans.

That first night, he’d handcuffed you to the bedpost, and just talked your ear off. Talked about his investigation against you. Talked about the late nights he’d spent thinking over the details he couldn’t get right. He somehow thought you were fake; an idea. He thought you were just a guise someone used because nobody had ever really seen you.

Nearly a week in, you tried to resist his charm. Tried to resist him. He was just so drawn to you. He was undoubtedly gorgeous. But he was quite literally the enemy. He could change his mind any time and take you in. Of course you don’t understand how he really feels for you, but he’s not too keen on showing you how much just yet. He needed to gain your trust first; and you his.

Suguru was a sweet talker. Oh boy was he. “C’mon, pretty,” he’d smirk at you. “Know you want some,” he’d hold out some of the california roll he’d been eating. The sauce sticking to the corner of his lip. The pad of your thumb reaches up absentmindedly and swipes it away, tucking the appendage into your mouth while maintaining eye contact.

His eyes darkened at the sight. He’d ravish you here and now if you’d let him. “Mm, no thank you. I got enough from your mess,” you giggle, gesturing to his face.

He chuckles in response. “Well, you haven’t eaten anything since I brought you here. You have to eat something, Ru.”

“Ru?” you look at him with puzzled eyes. “Where did that even come from?”

“It’s cute and suits you.”

“I’ve never had someone describe anything about me as ‘cute’ you grumble, shifting to tuck your knees underneath you on the bed.

“Mm, and how else would they describe you?” he asks, inching closer to your side of the bed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, detective,” you giggle, tucking his hair behind his ear. His breath hitches at the ghosting of your fingers over the skin of his face. You smirk. His skin heats up. You full on smile. “What’s wrong, Suguru? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re making it very difficult to keep my composure,” he’s turning and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, facing away from you. You take the opportunity to lift up on your knees, placing your free hand on his shoulders. “Ruby,” he warns.

“What, detective,” you whisper in his ear. You have him where you want him. He just needed to trust you before you could make your move.

He reaches up, grasping your wrist and pulling you as he shifts his seating on the bed, forcing you to lay across his lap looking up at him. “That’s enough,” he says, eyes somehow a darker shade of brown.

“I was just getting started,” your big doe eyes looking up at him, a sly smile on your face. You reach up, cradling the side of his face. If you can get him to trust you this way, maybe he’ll take the handcuffs off and you can get back to your life. “C’mon, detective. Live a little,” you mirror his words back to him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he says darkly, tracing the features on your face with his pointer finger.

“Think i can handle it,” you close your eyes as he starts leaning down towards you, eyes locked onto your lips.

Sliding out from underneath you, he dips his knee into the mattress, leaning over you, trailing his hand up your side. His fingertips teasing your hips and ribcage, making your breath catch from the tickle sensation.

“Mm, is she ticklish?” he asks more to himself, leaning down near your ear. “I can work with that” he whispers, taking your lobe into his mouth, the post from your earring colliding with his tongue ring.

“Please,” a strangled moan leaving your spit slicked lips as he attaches his lips to your neck. He chuckles against the skin.

“Please, what?”

“Please, touch me,” you whisper. He suspiciously eyes you from above, not entirely convinced of your change in heart.

“Do you think I’m dumb?” he asks, standing from the bed, making you roll off the side, wrist still bound to the post. You stand to look him in the eye across the bed. You’re fuming at this point.

“No, I think you’re a pain in my ass who threw a giant wrench into my plans, and for what? You’re not turning me in. You have me handcuffed to this bed, which only makes me think even worse things about you,” his eyes soften at that. He doesn’t want you to think he’d ever do something like that. “And you haven't told me anything,” With that, you take your seat back on the bed.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he whispers.

You laugh. I mean full on cackle. Tears start trickling down from all the laughter. “That’s rich, Detective. You don’t even know me.” you’re snapping at him now, He just lets you yell at him. You don’t understand the severity of what he’s doing. “How is kidnapping me and keeping me here with you, keeping me safe? There are people who expect me to get jobs done, Suguru. All you’re doing is putting both of us in danger.”

“Someone’s been trying to kill you,” he says matter of factly, sitting back down on the bed, facing away from you again.

“Y-you’re lying,” leaves your lips in the form of a whisper. No. Who would be trying to kill you? You thought you’d left everything in good standing when you decided to leave and drop the Red Queen title. You’d been trying to make a name for yourself, even though your entire MO is to not be seen or noticed.

“I’m not,” he promises, raising his right hand into the air, “Scouts honor.”

“W-who would want me dead?” you ask, more so to yourself than to him.

“A lot of people,” he quips. Suguru turns and faces you again, sliding closer to you on the bed.

“Okay, well I could have told you that. Who specifically to make you think a complete stranger needed your help,” the tone of your voice growing more and more irritated with each word.

“Toji Fushiguro.” leaves him in the form of a whisper.

Toji? Your Toji? There’s no way. He was your saving grace when you decided to leave and go off by yourself. He was the one who helped you. He was your best friend. Or so you thought. How could Toji betray you this way? Maybe staying here for a while isn’t such a bad idea. But you still need him to trust you. “Now I know you’re lying. Toji would never try to kill me,”

“Would you like to see the file I have?” he asks, motioning over towards his wall of evidence, the table beneath it covered in manilla folders and loose pieces of paper, pictures and crumpled up newspapers.

“Will you take the handcuffs off?” you ask, a flicker of hope flashing in your eyes.

“Well what would be in that for me?” he asks darkly, his hand reaching to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch. Right where you want him.

“Would you like a continuation of earlier? Perhaps in the shower this time?” you grip his wrist, pulling his touch from your face, nodding your head towards the bathroom.

“Mm, now you’re speaking my language.” he grins at you, sliding to get off the bed again.”How can I trust you though?” he asks, fingers grazing over the handcuffs.

“You just told me you have proof that my best friend is trying to kill me. I don't think I have a good excuse to be alone with that in my head.” You lean down and kiss him. He’s taken aback but kisses you anyways.

“Best friend?” he asks, reattaching your lips. He pulls the key from his pocket, sliding it into the slot and unlocking your wrist. Taking it in his hold, he rubs the red marks left behind.

“How sweet,” you internally roll your eyes.

“Well, former best friend. He’s my ex’s business partner but he was always my friend when I was there,” You roll the two of you over so you’re straddling his hips, keeping your lips connected., sitting up, wrapping his arms around your middle, holding you as close to him as possible. He places his hands under your thighs, standing from the bed as he walks you to the bathroom. Setting you down on the floor, beginning to take your top off.

“Your ex?” he asks, reaching for the button of your jeans.

“Mhm,” you assist him in the removal of his shirt after sliding your jeans down your legs. Suguru leans into the shower, setting the water to a good temperature before returning to you.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, slipping his fingers under your bra straps to help you pull it from your body.

“So sure,” a sly smile forms on your face. You lean up, attaching your lips again as you reach to unbutton his dress pants, pushing the material down his legs. Right where you want him.

“Which ex?” Suguru breathes out, your lips wrapped around his cock.

“You really wanna ask me that question right now?” He nods down at you. “Mm, detective, hasn’t anyone ever taught you about time and place?” you tease him, licking up the underside of his dick. “I’ll tell you after, if you excite me.”

“Oh, Ruby. You have no idea.”

His hands find a grip in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down his length. His moans fill the air as well as the gurgles falling from your lips. “S-shit, Ru, th-that’s so g-ood,” his voice breaks, the feeling of your throat engulfing his every thrust has his head in the clouds.

“Gonna cum down my throat, Detective?” You ask, pulling yourself off. Offering a stream of spit onto his cock, circling both of your hands up and down as you suckled on the tip.

He nods frantically, “If you don’t want that, better stop now.”

You double down, speeding up the motions of your hands, swirling your tongue over and over the tip. ‘Gimme your cum,” you moan around his cock.

“Oh, f-fuck, Ru,” he’s breathless, “C-cumming!” moans escape him, his hands tightening in your hair. Right where you want him

Running your hands up and down his cock, milking every last drop of his cum onto your tongue.

“D-don't swallow it yet,” he breathes. But you’re one step ahead. You dribble his cum back onto his length, using it as lube to continue jerking him off. “Ohh, you filthy girl.”

“The filthiest,” you moan, taking him into your mouth again.

“J-Jesus, Ru, you’re so good.”

“I know,” you gloat a little, standing from your spot on the floor; keeping your hands on his cock, jerking and jerking and jerking him off, “But now it’s your turn to impress me.”

Suguru pulls you into the shower with him, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, inviting your tongue into his mouth. He searches every crevice of your mouth, tasting every bit of himself on your tongue.

He sinks to the floor, slinging one of your legs over his shoulder. “I’ll have you reeling in no time, Ru.” Right where you want him. Wasting no time, he dives right in. Tongue slipping between your folds; nose bumping your clit in a delicious rhythm. One of your hands finds the shower wall, while the other anchors in his raven colored hair. Pulling his hair tie off, letting his long hair cascade around his shoulders, and frame that face, He looks angelic. Mouth full, eyes closed; he looks like a dream when he’s quiet. Although you appreciate the vocalness when it’s because of you. “Tastes so sweet,” he groans, reattaching himself to your cunt.

“Might be the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”

“Hm, now you’re just trying to seduce me,” you tease him, running your fingers through his hair.

“What gave you that idea?” he grins up at you, sliding two of his fingers up your leg, tantalizingly slow, before having them join his tongue; prodding into your depths to make you a mewling mess before him.

“F-uck, suguru, right there.”

“I had a feeling,” he gins against your cunt, sliding his face all around the surface; really getting in there; making your back press against the wall for support. You’re close to losing your footing until his other hand slides up your hip, holding you firmly in place against the wall.

“D-Don’t you dare stop,” leaves you in the form of a moan.

“What’ll happen if I do,” he’s teasing you now. He’s got you right where he wants you.

“I’ll–k-kill you,” both hands are tangled into his now soaking wet hair. Looking down into his eyes, there's a glint of lust in there at your threat.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he winks up at you, “But, I’d like to see you try, Ru.”

“Fuck you–hggn, oh god–Keep, go-oing, so close,”

“I got you, sweetheart. Give it all to me,” he coos, working you up into your release. His hand smooths down the expanse of your tummy before his thumb settles on your bundle, rubbing fast circles to milk every ounce out of you and onto his tongue.

“Oh, Oh g-god, Suguru,” you’re a panting mess above him, he just watches on with lustful eyes; reveling in the fact that he’s got you under his thumb.

Literally.

“Yeah? Gonna give me another?” he asks, diving back in with his tongue, You attempt to push his head away, but he’s got the upper hand since your legs feel like jello.

“C-can’t. Need a minute,” you slump against the wall, fingers gone limp in his hair.

“Oh, but where’s that attitude now? Hm?” He stands from his spot on the floor, hiking your leg over his hip.

“She’s still here, just gotta catch her breath for a second.”

“Mm, no time for that I’m afraid,” he swipes the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering some of the water and arousal left behind. He searches your eyes, asking for silent permission. Nodding your head, he begins to ease his way inside; albeit slowly due to his size and your less than active sex life lately. “S-such a tight squeeze, Ru,” he pants into your mouth, “N-not sure if I’ll fit,”

“M-make it fit, Detective,” with that, he smiles down at you, pulling himself from your cunt and spins you around to face the tile wall. Suguru presses your chest to the wall, commanding you to keep your hands–“Just about, here”--on either side of your head, palms flat against the wall. Pulling your hips back to get that perfect arch for him, hes swiping his cock through your folds once again,

“Make it fit, you say?” he teases from behind you, offering a smack on your right buttcheek, “Don’t mind if i do,” and he’s pressing in. No resistance, just presses inside, holding your hips firmly in place so you can’t escape the sensation. Cries and pleas of ‘oh my god, more,’ leave your lips at every inch that makes its way inside of you. Suguru reaches around you, stimulating your clit once again to help with the sting; stilling his hips against your ass once he’s fully sheathed. “Gimme a kiss,” he moans out, pulling your head back by the nape of your neck to sloppily cover your mouth with his.

“Sugu,” a moan falls from your lips.

“Ooh, that’s a new one. I think I like that,” he teases once again. “Need something, Ru?”

“M-move, p-please.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he slides his arm across your chest, holding you back against him as he begins a brutal pace with his hips. Over and over, his hips collide with your backside. Every thrust feels harder than the last. He’s got your head spinning. Every nerve ending feels like its been set ablaze; a fiery sensation begins pooling in your gut with the combined feeling of his length pressing every good angle inside your pussy, mixed with the feeling of his fingertips on your clit; plus the fact that your air supply is now getting restricted as the arm that was across your chest reaches up to firmly grasp the front of your throat in a headlock. You topple over the edge, seizing against his body in his hold. “There’s a good girl,” he praises you, “Gonna let me cum inside this sweet pussy? Hm?”

“Uhuh, mhm,” you choke out, “Fill me up.”

“With pleasure, Ru,” and he’s emptying himself deep inside; squeezing every ounce he can into your sensitive depths. Every drag along your plush walls has all of his nerves on fire as he begins to come down.

“Now, which ex were you talking about?” He asks, pulling himself out, watching in awe as his cum spilled out of you.

“Oh my god, you’re still thinking about that after what we just did?” You ask, wrist reattached to the bedpost for an entirely different reason.

“Mhm, wanna know who I have to make you forget,” he smirks down at you, reaching to unlock your wrist for the second time tonight.

“I wish you could, if I’m being honest. I hate him,” your voice quiet.

“Who is he?” His fingers rub circles on your wrist.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” your voice shakes; his face pales. “The Red King.”

That night was almost a year ago though. You and suguru have been secretly ‘seeing each other’, though the other still has no idea of the other's intentions, while you wait out the plan you’ve made against Toji.

But after you’d asked him one question, you’re certain your feelings changed in that moment.

“Why do you always call me Ru?”

“Probably the same reason you call me Sugu,” he smirks at you, swiping a piece of your hair behind your ear as you two lay in bed after a long love making session after another successful score of yours. “Ru is short for Ruby, but it's also the ending of my name. Sugu, Ru. I have a hard time believing it's a coincidence that we met.”

“Well duh, you’d been tracking me for almost a year, remember?”

“Hush,” he kisses the crown of your head as it lays on his chest. You turn to look into his eyes, “I call you Ru because..You complete me. Just like how you complete Suguru,” he places a kiss on your nose, “You were made for me, Y/N.”

♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @carlacujo @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses

(pls make sure ur settings are right to get tagged!

#geto smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk geto #suguru geto smut #jujutsu geto #jjk suguru #geto suguru x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #suguru #suguru geto #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru

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dracoxsworld · 10 months

Note

Can you do a fic where ron was jelly bc the reader was being too friendly to draco and had to show her who she belonged to ?

Hello friend! Thank you so much for the suggestion! I hope this is good enough for you :) I’m doing some requests as I prep the next part of arranged, I’m very excited.

WARNINGS: dom!ron x sub!reader, kinda rough sex ngl, jealousy, angry ron, p in v, oral sex both sides receiving, fingering, reader has female anatomy.

photo edited by me :)

You and Ron have been together for quite a while. Everyone knew you were together, no one even questioned it. Ron liked it that way.

You were his and nobody could do anything about it. He had always had a slight jelousy for his best friend, Harry Potter. He always got everything he had wanted. Ron thought Harry could get any girl he wanted with ease. So when Ron met you and got into a relationship with you, he is never going to let you go.

This was his opportunity to show the school, his family, the world, that he wasn't Harry Potter's lame and single best friend, he had the prettiest girl in school on his arm; and he was particularly protective.

Some of your peers liked to use you to annoy Ron; or try to make him feel insecure. This of course, included Draco Malfoy. You were a tad naive to realize it. You were simply thinking he was just trying to be your friend. It started out as you both being assigned as partners in potions. Draco was well aware of you and Ron being together; and used that to his advantage. He’d flirt with you, constantly talk to you, all while Ron would watch, just thinking.

“So Y/L/N, what’re you doing after class today?” Draco asked, side eyeing Ron, who was seated with Seamus. (Not a good mix, by the way.)

“Oh! I’m not sure, I need to study for Transfiguration…I’m struggling a bit.” You said while chewing on your bottom lip, reading the inked-in instructions for the current potion you both were assigned.

“I can help you with that, you know.” Draco suggested. This had caught your attention, you looked up from your potions book and smiled politely.

“Oh, no I’m okay, I believe Ron is assisting me,” you declined, looking over at your red headed boyfriend; who was watching you both the whole time. His arms were crossed, his eyes were darker than usual.

“Are you sure?” Draco voiced again, stepping closer to you, sliding the potions book away with one hand. You got nervous, just before you could respond, Professor Snape announced that class had dismissed, and you’d have to finish todays project tomorrow.

You swiftly grabbed your bag and ran out the door, leaving some of your belongings on your desk.

You ran to your dorm room, feeling a sense of panic. You were hoping Ron wasn’t think you were engaging with Draco’s behavior, that you weren’t flirting back.

You shook your head at the thought. Ron knows better, you told yourself. He would never think I’d do that.

Does he?

You had opened the door to your dorm quickly and slid in and slammed it, locking it. You set your bag in the floor and flung your body onto your unmade bed. “Stupid Y/N. It’s so obvious he was flirting with you.” You mumbled to yourself, your face squished into your duvet. You sat up and looked in your body-length mirror.

Your hair was a bit of a mess, probably from you flinging yourself onto your bed. You ran your hands through your hair to make it look a bit nicer, and gave yourself a small smile of reassurance.

Knock knock knock knock

You jumped, and turned towards your door. “Please don’t tell me your name is Draco Malfoy.” You groaned.

“You’re damn right it isn’t.” Your boyfriends voice boomed through your door. It startled you, it was his voice but it sounded different. “Ron?” You fled out.

“Yes, open the door.” Ron demanded. You did as you were told and unlocked the door and peeked through. You saw your beautiful boyfriend looking down at you, looking not too happy.

You looked down and noticed he had the belongings you had left at your desk in his arms. Some potion bottles, your book, and some quills. You then noticed his knuckles looked slightly stained with red, and bruised.

You looked back up at him with your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, still peeking through the small crack in the door.

“Are you going to let me in?” Ron asked impatiently. You nodded and let him in, closing the door behind him. Ron set down your supplies on your desk neatly. Setting the potion bottles up on their designated shelves, putting your quills in ink you had, and setting your book in your built in shelf in your desk.

He turned towards you and slowly walked up to you. You were picking a hangnail, unable to get even a sound out. “Draco has taken quite a liking to you.” Ron seethed. You shook your head. “I disregarded him, Ron. You know I’d never—“

“I’m not worried about you, pretty girl.” He specified, his hand lifting your chin towards him. You licked your lips, looking at his. He smiled down at you. “I’m going to show him that you’re mine, he’s going to hear you. He’s going to see you all fucked up from me.”

Your underwear was wet, your eyes widened and you rubbed your thighs together at his words. “On the bed, pretty.” He prodded you, pushing you towards the bed. You listened, wanting him to do whatever he wanted to you. To be honest, you loved it when he got this way. There was something about it that immediately turned you on.

He took off he belt, keeping his eye contact with you. You sat up on the bed, your eyes scanning him up and down. He took off his uniform pants, sliding off his shoes with them. He crawled on top of you, his hands beginning to fiddle with your button up shirt. “These bloody buttons-“ He grumbled before crashing his lips into yours, it was aggressive but loving all at once. It was demanding, you stood no chance of taking over. You let him have control.

He got fed up with your shirt at one point he just ripped it off, buttons flew everywhere. “Ron!” You exclaimed, breaking the kiss.

“Shut it, you have hundreds of those blasted shirts.” He spat. He kissed you again, harsher, and unclasping your bra. He threw it across the room carelessly, not taking any attention off of you, he pushed you back toward the headboard of the bed, putting you in his lap so you were straddling him. His hands were everywhere; your hair, your waist, the hem of your skirt, etc.

Ron’s fingers crept past your skirt, and they lightly grazed your clothed heat. You moaned in his at the feeling immediately. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you understand?” Ron mumbled in the kiss. You nodded, hardly containing your sounds of pleasure from his fingers teasing your soaking wet core, your panties still acting as a barrier. “I want to hear your response.” He prodded. “Yes Ron, I understand,” you whimpered. Ron’s hips grinded upwards towards yours, as his finger continued to tease your core still clothed.

“Please–“ you begged him in the heated kiss. You wanted him now, you didn’t care how. Ron broke the kiss, still teasing you “Please what, princess?”

“I want your mouth,” You pleaded, your face pink from embarrassment. “What a perfect idea, pretty. Only if you moan my name loud enough will determine if I let my pretty girl cum, how does that sound?”

You moaned, his fingers were still lightly touching you. You needed more, this wasn’t enough. You tried to grind towards his fingers more, and he immediately took them away. You whined, it felt like torture. “Don’t be a brat.” He demanded. He slid himself out from under you, so you were laying in the pillows and on your back, and flipped your skirt up into your belly. He laid on his stomach and inches himself close to in-between your legs.

He teasingly licked slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you moan his name, your hands in his red hair pulling it like reins. He hummed as he got closer to your core, with your now saturated panties. You felt lightheaded, this wasn’t fair, you needed him desperately more than ever. Your core was aching for his mouth. “Fuck Ron, please please!” You cried desperately. He finally complied, hooking his fingers under your soaked panties and pulled them off.

“My goodness, excited are we?” Ron teased, licking his lips. Your pussy was dripping, begging for him to clean you up. He went in immediately afterwards, slowly licking your core up and down. Focusing on each inch. In circles, his tongue went. He planted a few kisses, and went back to licking up your juices. You threw your head back and screamed his name, forgetting you both didn’t set a Muffliato spell. Oh well, Draco’ll definitely hear you.

He hummed as he ate you out, making it even more pleasurable. “Ron, fuck!” You moaned loudly, felt like you shook your dorm walls. You saw him smile and he was licking every inch. His tongue abused your hole, going in and out as his thumb played with your clit. “God, Draco wishes he could lick your cunt like this, fuck Y/N.” Ron groans

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your legs were shaking violently. “Ron, I’m close!” You moaned. He immediately backed away. You moaned in frustration.

“Ron please, I can’t take much more,” you begged. Your boyfriend shook his head at you and laughed. he took your jaw in his hand “You’re going to earn it, you’re going to learn to not even look in Malfoy’s direction. Understood?” Ron demanded. You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks. Your core was dripping, making a wet spot on your sheets.

“You’re going to pleasure me” Ron announces.

You got up on your knees, which were very weak. Ron’s hard cock was easily visible in his boxers, he slid them off letting it free. He got up from the bed and stood towards the edge. You got on your stomach with your legs in the air and crossed behind you, taking his length in your mouth immediately, licking off the pre-cum.

“Fuck baby, you already know what to do.” Ron groaned, collecting your hair and making a ponytail with his hand, wrapping it around his fist. This made you groan in his dick, rolling your eyes back, but still staying stable enough. You pumped him with your hand and he guided your head, bobbing it up and down on his dick. He again, had a majority of control. That bastard.

His dick was hitting violently against the back of your through causing the urge to gag. You free hand was balled up in a fist with your nails going into your skin making crescent-shaped indents, trying to distract yourself from the urge.

“Take it, look at me.” Ron demanded, your eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Malfoy couldn’t fuck your mouth this could, could he? Huh? You’re stuffed with my cock.” You made noises at his response, rubbing your thighs together. You shut your eyes again trying to focus on not orgasming right there, even with the absence of his touch.

“Eyes on me, I said.” Ron’s voice boomed again. You whined and opened your eyes agin and looked at him. He threw his head back, his mouth agape, “Pretty girl, I’m close,” He groaned, eyebrows together. You bummed around his dick, head being pushed on it up and down violently by his hands gripping your hair. His hand pushing you on his dick started getting off beat and sloppy, you knew he was very close.

You went faster and faster, ignoring the tears and sweat rolling down your face. You felt his warm liquid roll down your throat as his dick twitched and his loud moans were all you heard.

He hands gently ran through your hair, he pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. His smile was wicked, but you still saw the love behind it. “On your back, on you go.” You excitedly complied. Your body was aching for him, begging him to fuck the shit out of you. you flipped your skirt up to expose your cunt, soaking wet from his sexual torture. Ron hovered over you, his arms on both sides of you, he leaned down and left sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbones, leaving bite marks. You moaned his name and begged for him to pleasure you.

“You’ve been patient enough, pretty girl,” Ron said sweetly, he likes himself up to you, and teased your slit with his cock. You whines and dug your nails into his back.

He entered into you, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full, so good. “Ron, fuck.” You whined.

“Pretty girl, you feel so perfect; so warm and tight, fuck.” Ron groaned into your neck. His pace was slow, it hit the right spot, he knew you so well. The room was full of your moans and the smell of sex.

Ron had sped up, the sound of your skin slapping together joined the sounds of pleasure you both were making together. His dick was hitting your g-spot like a arrow on the middle of a target. Over and over again. Meanwhile, he continued to leave hickeys on your chest, collar bones and shoulders.

He then sat up and tossed your legs over his shoulders, exposing you more. He railed into you, more aggressively now. Your eyes were full of tears from pure pleasure. The knot in your stomach was forming again.

“Ron, please– let me-“ You moaned, looking him in the eye.

“I am too, cum in my cock baby, come on,” Ron grunted.

After a few more thrusts, you both hit your point, both of you groaning simultaneously, Ron then pulling out and collapsing next to you. You both were covered in sweat, and each others fluids. Ron’s hands ran over his chest that was rapidly going up and down.

“Y/N?” Ron perked up, holding himself up by one arm, looking down at you.

“Yes, Ron?”

“I love you, you know that, right? I just can’t stand Malfoy talking to you like that..”

“Of course, Ron. I love you too. He’s not really interested in me, he just does it to piss you off, I think.” You replied, your hand on his cheek. He gave you a doubtful look.

“However, I should talk to Malfoy more often, that was quite fun.” You chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes at you, and gave you a kiss on the nose.

#ron weasley imagine #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley harry potter #ron weasley x y/n smut

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taexual · 5 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 12 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, some angst, DESCRIPTIVE SMUT with maybe 1 pet name and 2 jokes, a bunch of reminiscing and relentless flirting (bc jungkook is dowwnnnn badddd), praise kink if you squint?, minors please don't interact

words: 7.6k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 12 ► fall into your eyes like a grave, bury me to the sound of your name

You and Jungkook were silent for a solid fifteen minutes after you let him into your hotel room. You were both sitting on the bed, but with so much distance between you that it felt like you were on two different floors.

After your phone on the bedside table lit up for the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes, Jungkook finally spoke up.

“Your phone keeps buzzing,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Yeah.” You sighed. Being silent with Jungkook oddly felt less draining than dealing with whatever was happening on your phone. “It’s Kai.”

Jungkook nodded, remembering your brother’s misadventures the last time you two talked. He was almost happy to use that as an excuse to dance around the elephant in the room a little longer.

“How is he?” he asked. “With his broken…”

“Leg, yeah,” you finished, leaning your head against the headboard. “He’s home. Mum’s grounded him. She’s turned off the router and taken his Xbox, so he’s texting me because he’s got nothing else to do.”

Remembering how angry you were when your brother got himself into trouble and upset your mum, Jungkook asked with a small smirk on his lips, “and you had nothing to do with the Xbox?”

You shook your head. “I don’t believe it’s an appropriate punishment to withhold things from your children. I think it makes them withdraw from their parents, especially when they’re seventeen like Kai. And it makes them annoy their siblings instead,” you paused. Then shrugged. “But I’m not a parent, so easy for me to say.”

Dignified, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“You’ve contributed greatly to raising your brother,” he said in a voice full of contempt for your family’s general tendency to use the nine-year age difference between you and your brother as an excuse to have you babysit for free.

Although your heartbeat increased at the sound of his confidence—and his almost reflexive habit of defending you from yourself—your outward appearance remained composed. It was easy to appear collected when you weren’t looking at him and he felt so far away.

“And look at him now,” you said, an ironic smile on your face. “A mess.”

Jungkook snickered. “He’s really not that bad.”

Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair and felt your fingers get caught in the last strand, only adding to your frustration with your brother.

“Sure. He’s a good kid,” you said, looking up at Jungkook. “But he tries too hard.”

Jungkook saw the parallel, he felt it. You might as well have said that about him.

At last, it seemed like the time had come to address the real reason he’d come to your room. He knew that this casual chit-chat was only temporary anyway. But if he wasn’t careful, it would be the last time the two of you spoke to each other with such ease, such familiarity.

He cleared his throat and said, “this might be the hardest conversation we have.”

He didn’t need to elaborate, you understood. And still, you thought about his words for a moment and decided to disagree.

“Or the easiest,” you said. “I mean, everything important that we could have said, we’ve pretty much said already.”

He blinked, surprised at first. Then dizzy.

There were several things he wanted to say to you, but he expected to listen to you first. He knew you wouldn’t initiate a conversation about your feelings, but he’d hoped this was different, especially considering all that you’d said to each other on the street.

It wasn’t different. You sat across from him on the bed and you looked a little uncomfortable, but not particularly confounded.

He’d expected to find you grappling with questions, armoured with rightful accusations, but you appeared settled.

Maybe it’s because it’s been four years, he realised suddenly. He hadn’t been there to watch you build your defences. He hadn’t seen your walls grow.

He worried, suddenly, that nothing he’d say would mean anything to you. He worried that the only reason you let him into your room was to deliver the finishing blow—to tell him that you were done one more time.

He switched the arm he was leaning against the bed with; his right arm was slowly going numb. Actually, so was his left, and, if he was completely honest, his whole body felt a bit like it was floating away from him, but he tried to focus on the moment.

“Uh, w-we haven’t said everything,” he said.

You looked at him. “What else is there?”

“Two things.”

Inhaling sharply, you turned away. You did not really want to continue the discussion you’d had by the canal. In fact, you didn’t think there was anything to continue at all.

You’d walked away as soon as you realised that you’d come face-to-face with your break-up. And this was it. You’ve found the reason why this could never work. Why you and him together could never work. And it was truly simple: it’s because it hadn’t worked before. You already knew it, but you enjoyed the leisure of pretending that you didn’t.

All that you two had to do now, in your opinion, was reach a formal agreement that this would be it. You’ve explored each other’s boundaries enough during this tour. The time has come to stop. To go back to your normal lives, your regular jobs and duties.

However, now that he was here, there was hesitation behind your closed eyes. You had learned that the two of you had different ideas about why you broke up. And you’d spent four years boiling in them, convincing yourselves you’ve moved on from them, then facing them head-on when you really looked at each other again.

Perhaps there were a few more things you had to talk about, after all, before you could truly put this behind you.

Finally, you nodded your head once and told him, “okay. What’s the first thing?”

“The first thing,” he started, “is that I'm sorry.”

It was well known that “sorry” wasn’t always a heavy word. People threw it around like a pebble and watched it bounce off the surface of the water, rarely ever intending for it to sink, to reach the depths not visible to the naked eye. Jungkook had been one of those people many times in his life.

But the word he used here felt different.

It carried a weight that forced him to lower his head as he said it. As if all his thoughts had been poured into this sentence – this fateful “I’m sorry” – and the heaviness of it was difficult to bear. As if he’d assigned different meanings to each “sorry” in his head, and all these little pieces suddenly added up to one big word that took up the whole room.

“For not realising what I was doing back then,” he said, dissecting the apology, “and what it meant for our relationship.”

He figured there wasn’t much that you could say that would make it easier for him to breathe – the conversation by the canal, the bet, the apology, all of it was too significant to leave much room for oxygen in his lungs.

But you said, “I forgive you.”

And it felt a lot like you were performing emergency resuscitation and successfully maintaining his brain function.

He wasn’t certain if you’d said that because it was the right thing to say, or because you’d meant it. If it was the former, Jungkook would have rather suffocated.

“You do?” he asked, unsure if he was prepared for your explanation.

“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t know that you weren’t—that you didn’t realise why—why we broke up the way we did. And it sucks that you didn’t, but…”

You faltered here and Jungkook was keenly aware how you’d said it sucks, but you’d really meant it hurt me. It hurt that he’d been dismissive, negligent, and heedless – and had the audacity not to realise it.

He closed his eyes while you finished, “it sucks more to know that, all this time, you thought I’d just walked away for no good reason.”

An apology was on the tip of your tongue, he could sense it. Although you had many reasons to be angry with him for being so impossibly stupid, you also felt guilty because all this time, he had thought you woke up one morning and suddenly decided you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Like it was your fault that he didn’t realise he’d been taking you for granted every day for months before you broke up.

You should have been angry with him. Instead, you thought you were responsible for not explaining your reasoning properly before you left.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the ache in his chest. He wanted you so much, but more and more he realised that he didn’t deserve you.

“I didn’t try to stop you,” he said before you could say anything else, because this was another element of his initial apology. One more thing he had to be sorry for.

You shrugged with one shoulder. Over the years, you’d come up with several reasons why he never fought for your relationship, not even considering that he might have assumed you had fallen out of love with him. At the end of every day, you simply thought he didn’t care anymore.

“I thought you were okay with it,” you said. “When I told you we were over, you just stood there. You didn’t ask why and I didn’t... answer.”

“I wasn’t okay with it,” he replied. “But I didn’t think there was anything I could do.”

With a thoughtful nod, you agreed, “there probably wasn’t.”

“Yeah, but I felt that way because I assumed that you—you didn’t want to be with me. That you didn’t care about me anymore. And you, uh,” he stopped here and waited for a long minute. Finally, he inhaled deeply. “You thought the opposite.”

You probably should have shouted at each other as you discussed this, you thought abruptly. That would have been appropriate. Maybe even healthy, all things considered.

But then, perhaps the realisation that you both had different views on why you broke up was precisely the thing that softened the impact. His hurt because you’d left him without an explanation, and your anger because he made you do it—they both took up outstanding amounts of space in your chests. They weighed you down. And they almost balanced each other out.

Perhaps you weren’t ready to shout just yet. Or not anymore.

Perhaps you’d left most of the shouting in the past four years ago. Now you were finally on the verge of closure.

That was the point, after all: the two of you boasted—really, there was no other word for it, you were both proud of it—that you’d never spoken to anyone about the details of your relationship.

That could have been admirable, of course, this utter devotion to each other and no one else. Except that, you didn’t talk about your relationship with each other, either.

“Do you think this is our own fault?” you asked. “We were good at talking about everything except… well, us.”

“I know,” Jungkook was quick to agree. You had both been like this from the very beginning—that’s likely why he was never fully aware of his behaviour. You’d always argued, but never about the things that really mattered. “I nearly threw up before I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

You did a double take, your mind racing to supply you with a memory that matched his words, but coming up short.

You squinted at him. “Did you actually ask?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but let it hang there, no words coming out for a good minute.

“You don't remember?!” he accused, his voice so high-pitched that it could almost shatter glass.

“I remember going on at least five dates before someone called you,” you explained, “and I heard you say into your phone, ‘sorry, I’m with my girlfriend.’ And that’s when I assumed that, huh. I guess I’m your girlfriend then.”

Jungkook could remember this exact moment. It was Sid who had called him because the two of them were working for Sid’s grandfather fixing his Camaro at the time. Jungkook had needed the money, while Sid simply enjoyed the ‘69 classic car.

The memory sent a shiver down his spine because he recalled turning Sid down. He had prioritised you over everything back then. What had happened to him later?

Regardless – in Jungkook’s mind, the timeline of your relationship was different.

“I vividly remember asking you on our second date,” he said.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you attempted to remember the very beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was the traditional movie and dinner—although it turned into a movie and the rain when you got stuck in the park. You recalled the whole day with near-perfect clarity.

Your second date was a week later, at the carnival in town. It took you three hours to get back to your dorms, because the event was held across the forest that separated the university campus from a small town nearby. Jungkook had insisted that you could walk home, he had claimed to know the way. And then he proceeded to get you lost within a few seconds of entering the forest.

All you could remember him asking you back then, was, ‘I know where I’m going, so trust me, okay?’ and that certainly did not include any terms that specified your relationship status.

Confused if you were remembering this wrong, you asked, “when we got lost on our way home from the carnival?”

“Before that!” he was even louder now, both of his hands in the air as he frantically explained, “on the Ferris wheel! I can’t believe you don’t remember!”

“On the Ferris—Jungkook, you had motion sickness the whole time we were on it,” you reminded him.

“I wasn’t sick,” he argued. “I was nervous.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “All you said to me during that entire ride was ‘please’ when we were at the very top.”

“That was me asking!”

“That was—” You laughed in surprise before you could finish the sentence. “Okay, well, you can see why I wouldn’t remember that, considering you didn’t use a lot of words to explain what you meant. I thought you were asking me to end the ride. Not that I could have ended it, but—”

“You said yes, though.”

You didn’t think you heard him right, his tone noticeably lower compared to the agitated screaming before. “Hm?”

“When I said, ‘please?’,” he spoke, “you said, ‘yes.’”

You watched him, considering it.

“I think I was asking,” you said and demonstrated, “yes?”

“No. You made a statement,” he disagreed, showing you, “yes.”

You pursed your lips, choosing to quit before this escalated into an argument.

“Alright, fine,” you said. “Maybe I read your mind, then.”

He scoffed, turning away. “And forgot about it…”

Nevermind taking the high road.

“Well, I didn't think it meant anything,” you argued, “you were—”

“I had a different plan. I was going to fully embrace The Notebook and dangle from someone else’s seat to ask you,” Jungkook said, “but for that to work, you would’ve had to go on the ride with someone else. And at that point, I couldn’t let you sit in that cabin with someone who wasn’t me.”

You could feel your cheeks stretching as an involuntary smile spread across your lips.

“That’s a little crazy,” you said gently.

“Please,” he replied, lowering himself on your bed until he was lying on his back. “It’s just crazy. I went on a binge-watching session of romantic films before our first few dates. I did my research.”

You knew him too well not to point out, “was it really only for research?”

“Alright, after the first few, I started to really enjoy them,” he admitted, earning a knowing nod from you. He smiled in response and continued, “but then I got to know you better, and I figured that if I serenaded you like Heath Ledger did in 10 Things I Hate About You, you’d break up with me immediately.”

Your laughter sounded so sincere and calming that Jungkook felt his smile widen as he turned his head to look at you from where he was lying on your bed.

“So I became a singer instead,” he said, encouraged by the lightness in your laugh. “You can’t break up with me if singing for you is my job.”

Your stomach performed an intricate Loop-the-Loop and then dropped, seemingly down ten floors, all the way to the lobby of the hotel.

Desperate, you tried, “you’re not—it’s not—”

Noticing you were about to downplay his words—either because you didn’t think he meant it, or because you didn’t feel comfortable knowing that he did—Jungkook changed the topic instead.

“Were you angry at me?” he asked. “For not chasing you after you left that time?”

Struggling to collect the remains of your thoughts, you spoke very slowly, “I... I was angry that you didn’t put in any effort while we were still together. After that, I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“I did,” he said. Then, realising, he corrected himself, “I do. And I didn’t want to make the same mistake again today.”

Hesitantly, you asked, “how do you mean? Because I left today?”

He nodded. “I'm not going to wait another four years before we talk about us.”

“Jungkook...” you said, but the sound of his name on your lips caused your thoughts to jumble once more. Your words stuck to your throat as your heart threw itself against the walls of your chest. You hoped to divert the topic, “y-you said there were two things. What—what’s the second thing?”

“The second thing is that I love you,” he said in one quick breath. “I took everything we had for granted, and I’m sorry. But the truth is that even then I was—I-I’d never stopped loving you.”

A sense of déjà vu clouded your mind, while the rest of your body reacted as if this was the first time you’d heard him say this. As if the four years you hadn’t been together were long enough to start a new lifetime, and now you’ve met again, reincarnated into different people – Jungkook, the vocalist of a rock band, and you, the manager.

But, buried deep in your subconscious, locked away in a box that your brain dared not touch even in a dreaming state, was the memory of the first time he’d said these words to you.

It was spring. You’d been together for about five or six months at that point, and you’d skipped class together to go to the same park where you’d had your first date. You’d spent the whole day walking around hand-in-hand, reminiscing about the past, dreaming of the future, taking pictures of the freshly bloomed cherry blossoms, and picking up the pale pink leaves from the grass to throw them at each other.

During the car ride back home, you were so exhausted that you could hardly keep your eyes open. The two of you had been running around so much—his energy was infectious, you’d both acted like Golden Retrievers set loose—that your legs felt wobbly and unsteady.

After a few more minutes, you had lost the battle against yourself and settled more comfortably into the passenger seat, closing your eyes. Your mind was already beginning to fill with the bliss of sleep when Jungkook stopped the car at a red light.

He glanced at you, seemingly asleep on the seat beside him, and leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. When he pulled back, he noticed a pale cherry blossom in your hair and a soft smile on your lips.

It was nothing more than a whisper—“I love you so much”—that slipped from his lips because he thought you were asleep. Nothing more than an overwhelmed confession as his heart drowned in his feelings.

But, to this day, nothing has ever come close to making your heart beat nearly as fast as it had in that car when the light turned green and he drove back to your dorm, still thinking you were asleep. That first confession of love remained a secret between you, him, and the stray cherry blossom nestled in your hair.

Slowly, you opened your eyes as the memory tugged at each and every cell of your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. You looked around the hotel room before you dared to look at him again.

Contrary to what Jungkook believed, you didn’t appear collected because you were done. Or because you didn’t want to fight with yourself about wanting him anymore.

It was because you were tired of still wanting him so much in spite of everything.

You were tired of forcing yourself to let go. To move on. To be rational and responsible.

Tired of feeling happy about things that were probably inappropriate.

Tired of finding those things inappropriate.

But rationally, you knew that you had to leave this behind and return to your normal lives after this, regardless of what you wanted.

It’d be much harder—to an infinite extent—because this wasn’t how you’d imagined this conversation going.

Quietly, you broke the silence, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Why?” he asked, sitting up on the bed.

“We can’t...” the words trailed off before you could catch up. You tried again, “I can’t—we can't do this.”

He observed the battle behind your eyes and then spoke, very softly, almost inaudibly, “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“We’re—"

“We’re the ones who put meaning to things,” he continued. Not to contradict you, but to reassure you. “If we say it doesn't mean anything, then it doesn't.”

You shook your head with a sad smile, the situation vaguely familiar.

“It’s never that simple,” you said. “There’s so much more than just you and me to consider.”

“It is simple,” he insisted. Then, just like back in your bunk on the tour bus, he asked, “do you want me to leave?”

Just like back then, you answered without hesitation, “no.”

“Then this can have as much or as little meaning as you want it to. I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “I’m yours. You are all I’m considering. And I’m staying.”

In less than a second, the determination in his voice made you realise that rational didn’t always mean reasonable.

Rationally, you knew you should have drawn the line. You should have left or told him to leave. Should have distanced yourself from him for the sake of your heart. Your job. For the sake of the atmosphere backstage.

You were aware of all the damage this could do. You were aware of the risk. Of the questions. Of the pain.

You were aware that you were having the very conversation that you’d stopped him from pursuing a few hours ago on the street. But your response to him was vastly different now.

Really, the situation felt different, too.

The second thing is that I love you.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—

You couldn’t imagine yourself leaving.

There was no place in the whole world that you would have rather been in right now. And no one else you would have wanted to share that place with.

It felt reasonable to stay. And wish for him to stay, too.

Jungkook had to scoot closer on the bed to reduce the distance between you two, and as soon as he did, he leaned in right away. He’d hesitated before, got scared, panicked and changed his mind. Tonight, he would do nothing of the sort.

His lips touched yours before you could formulate a single doubt and his kiss effectively silenced all the noises and echoes in your head.

Truthfully, he knew that there was a third thing he didn’t tell you, but when you kissed him back, less tentatively than the first time on the bus, he couldn’t imagine ever saying anything to you again. Speaking seemed like an immeasurable waste of time.

Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips locked on yours as one of his hands held the side of your face. His gentle fingertips contrasted with the coldness of his lip ring against your lips as he touched the skin of your cheek like he wasn’t sure, not even now, that it was really you he was holding. His other hand found its way around your waist and settled there—the gesture so intimate, so familiar.

He kissed you and it felt inevitable. Like everything you’d been doing up to this point was meant to lead you here – even the break-up four years ago.

As Jungkook felt your hands on his chest, careful and barely there, he mentally cursed himself for wearing this white shirt yet again—the fabric was too thick for him to properly feel you.

Still, he recognised the ghost of your touch as though he’d never been apart from you. As though you’d always stayed like this, locked in a desperate embrace in the tenth-floor room of a hotel in Amsterdam.

There were endless somethings bursting persistently in his chest as he tasted you, deepening the kiss by bringing his tongue over yours. Fireworks and flames and entire conflagrations all wreaked havoc on his heart.

This time, there were no promises of five minutes, and no curtains to separate you from everyone else. When you whimpered quietly, in response to him pulling you up until one of your legs was thrown over his and you were seated firmly on his thigh, he was the only one who heard it. The only one who felt your heavy breathing on his lips as he kissed you.

And if, by a lucky chance, there was any oxygen left in the room, neither of you needed it as your holds on each other grew tighter, hands grasping whatever materials they could reach and pulling—until he took your shirt off, until you took off his.

Every single one of your nerve endings was focused solely on him—his taste, his scent, his touch, his warmth, the roughness of his dark jeans underneath you, the softness of the skin on his chest. Your body instinctively drew closer, prompting him to clench his thigh as he wrapped his arms around you even more tightly.

His lips gently trailed kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, and it was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. He remembered your body—how could he forget when it haunted his dreams almost every night?—but he yearned to create new memories, to trace the lines of your figure that he’d memorised and bring them to life in a new and different way.

You helped his eager hands find the edge of your sports bra and had to briefly pull away from him to slide it over your head. He pulled you back to him as soon as you did, needing to get lost in your touch, to feel your skin against his.

Your hotel room was filled with so much electricity, the two of you could have lit all of Amsterdam up.

“There’s so much I want to say to you. So much I have to say,” he breathed against your lips while his hands caressed your exposed sides, tracing the familiar maps on your skin.

You pulled him closer by gripping the back of his neck and exhaled, “show me instead.”

The meaningfulness, or rather, meaninglessness, of the moment seemed secondary. You wouldn’t analyse what this symbolised or where you stood.

Instead, you’d analyse how kissing him—touching him, feeling his skin, hearing his breathing—felt good. How it felt right. Like you’d been lying to yourself by doing everything else but this.

Sitting on his lap as he held you firmly in his arms—essentially trapping you in his grip, in his scent, in him—you could feel the rest of the world fade away into the recesses of your mind that you didn’t consider important at this given point.

Focusing on the feeling of his tongue against yours and the firmness underneath you, you allowed the scorching heat of the moment to take control of your movements as you instinctively moved your hips against his and forced him to suck in a shaky breath.

You undid the buckle of his belt and he had to pull back just a little, breaking the kiss. His head was spinning, overwhelmed by your closeness and the rapid beating of his heart. It wasn’t the first time you had been this close, but it had been so long, and he’d wanted this so much, that it felt like he’d never done this before.

Noticing your trembling hands, he helped you with his belt by loosening his grip on your waist. As soon as your fingers reached the zipper of his pants, he grabbed your forearms—successfully halting your progress in ridding him of his jeans—and swiftly flipped you over onto your back on the bed.

Your eyes met for a split second as he hovered over you, silently exchanging a conversation that neither of you dared to voice.

He leaned in to kiss you again and allowed you to get back to the previous task. Kissing him back, you finally managed to lower his jeans to his knees, and the simple feeling of your touch on the back of his thighs nearly made him see stars. Leaning his forehead against yours, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to regain his composure.

He briefly sat up to kick off his jeans—as quickly as he could, because the room temperature fell a hundred degrees when he wasn’t touching you—and you took a moment to trace the patterns of ink on his arm with your eyes.

You were with him when he got his first tattoo.

He acted tough in the tattoo parlour, but once the artist took you both down to the basement, all of his bravery faded. It was rather chilly down there—Jungkook was pouting when he took his jacket off, revealing his shivering skin—and he’d chosen his knuckles as a place for his first tattoo. It was going to hurt.

He knew that, in theory. But the way he squeezed your hand and bit his lip when the needle pierced his skin for the first time still surprised you both. You weren’t sure who was in more pain by the end of the session—him, from the fresh ink on his hand, or you, from how hard he’d been squeezing your hand.

Now, he had a full sleeve. And you felt a pang of pain in your chest, because there were so many tattoos that you hadn’t seen him get.

You hadn’t been there when the needle pierced his skin again and again. You hadn’t seen the way he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and placed a hand on your knee—for support, for reassurance, for all-consuming love.

You hadn’t helped him apply lotion on the fresh ink, hadn’t teased him for being a baby, hadn’t been shut up with a kiss. You hadn’t traced the intricate lines on his skin with the tips of your fingers—careful, gentle, loving.

You hadn’t been there for four years.

But you were here now.

Just as your gaze reached his shoulder, your eyes locked on the patterns you’d never touched, Jungkook turned to you and caught you staring. The dazed look in your eyes before he had even done anything affected him in more ways than he could count.

With a wide, shameless grin and a raised eyebrow, he leaned into you again. You noticed right away that he was about to say something that would surely ruin the moment, but you pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before he could.

“Don’t,” you warned. There was humour and light and excitement in your eyes.

Chuckling as if you’d read his mind, he pressed a kiss to your lips and mumbled, “wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Liar,” you exhaled against his mouth as he quickly slid your biker shorts and panties down your hips, your back barely leaving the bed.

“Honest,” he countered in a soft whisper, his lips hovering over your neck as his hands returned to your waist and he aligned your hips with his. “I have better things on my mind.”

It was hard to determine which one of you was to blame for ending this unnecessary bickering by inhaling too sharply – you, who reached the edge of his boxers and pulled them down, removing the last layer of clothing between you; or him, who gently caressed your thighs, drawing deliberately slow, teasing circles that inched closer to your core.

He managed to kick off his boxers without letting go of you—which was a talent that was difficult to advertise, but a talent nonetheless—and kissed you deeply. One of his fingers slid over your thighs and traced over your folds, causing your body to twitch in anticipation as you gripped his forearms for support.

His touch felt foreign and familiar at the same time – he knew how to find every single one of your nerve endings, but your body seemed to have forgotten that he knew.

It was almost frightening how he sensed exactly how to touch you to elicit a response—the pillows of his fingers effortlessly reached the bundle of nerves on your clit at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed involuntarily, seeking more friction. Your breathing grew louder every time he applied more pressure to his touch.

It really didn’t feel fair at all—the way he appeared to know your body better than you did, even after all these years.

A frustrated whimper escaped your lips when he added another finger, picking up the pace. He alternated between gentle rubs and teasing caresses, and his touch made your head spin, but you wanted more of him. All of him.

He only inserted a finger for a fraction of a second before lightly brushing it over your folds—the motion so sweet and then suddenly not enough. Your nails were about to draw blood from how tight you were gripping his arms.

“Don’t tease,” you exhaled, more a plea than a command. “Not now.”

There was a hint of promise here, and Jungkook smiled before nodding. He kissed your lips, but instead of pulling away, he increased his pace—toying with your clit with just enough pressure and at just the right angle that you could have cried out if you hadn’t been biting your lip so hard.

“Fuck,” was all you could respond with as your eyes rolled back from the intense sensation. “Jungkook—”

This time his name was encouraging. It was begging. It made him groan as he leaned in, already almost painfully hard as he rubbed your clit, spreading your wetness with his fingers.

“Hmm.” He touched your neck with his lips in a sloppy, wet kiss that sent shivers down your spine. “You look so beautiful.”

“Fuck,” you repeated, the relentless ministrations of his fingers rendering you incapable of a more coherent sentence. “Fuck.”

And just when you felt the pressure in your stomach building, he pulled away abruptly.

The loss of contact made you exhale with enough agitation for it to resemble a whine. This earned you a smirk from him as he pulled back slightly, convinced he was just doing what you’d asked because he did indeed stop teasing.

To be fair, it was for his benefit, too. Your body, your warmth, your heavy breaths—he knew it all teased him more than he could ever tease you.

Struggling to maintain his composure, he bit his lip and reached for his length, giving it a few languid strokes.

The first glimpses of concern started to creep in when he realised he had no protection, but he saw you nod at the pile of suitcases by your bed. Confused initially, he rolled off of you and approached what appeared to be a welcome basket on top of the pile.

“Don’t tell me…” he mumbled in disbelief as he picked up the wicker basket—decorated with an appropriate white bow.

“Yeah,” you confirmed his thoughts and sure enough, among complimentary bottles of shampoo and tubes of toothpaste, he found a box of condoms.

Under different circumstances, he would have embraced his inner teenager and dropped everything to giggle at this, but he tried to stay composed. That is, until he looked at you and saw that you were biting your lip in an obvious attempt to hold back laughter.

“Well, this is quite convenient,” he remarked, encouraged by your amusement, as he climbed back on the bed. “Almost meant to be, no?”

“Don’t spoil the moment,” you warned, pressing your lips together to conceal your smile. “Just hurry.”

“Say that again for me?” he teased. “I love it when you beg.”

Undeterred by the punch on his shoulder that he received in response, Jungkook laughed and ripped the bag open. He unrolled the condom onto his length with relative ease despite the slight shake in his hands.

You reached out to help him, and he realised he might actually pass out when he felt you touch him. The tips of your fingers were on the tip of his length as he brought it closer to your entrance.

He shook his head and warned breathlessly, all of his previous confidence gone, “I’m not—not going to last long.”

He could tell as much even before he entered you, but after you nodded—giving him voiceless permission—and, slowly, almost agonisingly, he slid inside, he realised he may have miscalculated.

He might not last at all.

Lowering his head as he paused, not even halfway in, he bit his lip in concentration and closed his eyes. He couldn’t get himself together when you looked like that under him—almost too lost in the feeling of him, in the pleasant stretch, in the way you couldn’t help but clench around him as your walls anticipated fitting all of him in.

“Fuck,” he exhaled shakily as you tightened around him. He really needed to get a grip. More sternly, he repeated, “fuck,” and, with a more forceful thrust of his hips, he fully bottomed out.

You threw your head back at the sudden motion, needing a second to adjust to the stretch. This was helped greatly by one of his hands as he caressed your hips, your waist, your breasts while he gave you as much time as you needed. Hė toyed with your nipple between his fingers and the gentle touch and the utmost admiration in his dark eyes sent sparks straight to your core.

After you quietly urged him to move, it still took him a whole minute before he felt confident enough to pull almost all the way out and then push back in, testing both of your limits. He looked at you—because he couldn’t not look at you underneath him, not even if it meant he’d lose himself right away—and the expression on your face was so dreamy that he didn’t even realise he shuddered in exhilaration.

Your head was still thrown back as you held your lower lip in a tight grip between your teeth. When you slowly opened your eyes, your gaze met his right away. And there was barely anything—fuck it, there was nothing—that he could have done to prepare for it.

He thought he may as well have died then and there because nothing in his life would ever compare to the colour of your eyes when you looked at him.

Swallowing the groan in the back of his throat, he leaned in to press his lips to yours as he began to move. It was slow at first, then his hips gradually gained more speed as he felt your warm walls pulling him in. Your fingers found their way to his hair, getting tangled in the dark strands as his hips pressed into yours harder—not just faster, but with more force, too, each brush of his length igniting a new fire inside of you.

He made it impossible for you to catch your breath as he kissed you with as much fervour as before, not once slowing down the pace of his hips. Everything he did was in response to you—the way you arched your back, your whimpers in between the messy, open-mouthed kisses, the way you pulled his hair, the way you held onto his shoulders.

He knew that if he lost concentration, he’d unravel immediately. It’s been so long, too long. He’s wasted far too many nights in foreign beds, chasing highs that had always felt forced and artificial. He wasn’t prepared for the real thing. He wasn’t prepared for you.

“Fuck. I’d missed you, my love,” he whispered hazily between kisses, each word accompanied by a thrust of his hips, “so fucking much.”

You felt shivers run down your spine again. If you could have formed a sentence—let alone voiced it—you would have reciprocated.

You would have told him that you missed him too. And you would have told him how much it scared you, the way this feeling was so intense that you seemed to disregard everything else.

But you couldn’t focus.

His length stroked your walls with an exemplary balance of force and tenderness. His tongue was in your mouth, the kiss hot, heavy, messy. His hands were all over your skin, warm, eager, relentless.

He filled your head with stars.

You could not speak, you could not say anything that wasn’t a breathless whisper of his name every time he pulled away to give you both a chance to inhale.

He understood you without words, however. And the response you had to him was about to tip him over the edge. His movements became too fast to be precise, his thrusts grew sloppy, his breathing got heavier, his groans louder.

The knot in your stomach formed much faster than you would have liked. You wanted this to last longer, but all of it felt reckless—dangerous and outrageous—and so good—too good—that you broke the kiss, a strangled cry of his name passing your lips as a warning that you were close.

“Yeah?” he whispered, kissing your jaw as he pressed his thumb on your clit. The rubbing motion matched the speed of his hips and the intensified pleasure caught you so unexpectedly that you could no longer control how loud you were.

Your heavy breaths mixed with curses and broken fragments of his name—he knew these sounds would echo around his mind for every waking moment—as your back arched off the bed and into him.

And when he heard you cry out, when he felt your grip on his arms tighten as your body jerked forwards, your hips meeting his, then lowering again in uncontrollable muscle spasms, when he felt your walls clench around him so much that they nearly stopped his movements, he almost whined, sensing his own high, brought on by the feeling of yours.

There were curses spilling from your lips as you came and you held onto him so tightly that he knew he’d have bruises on his arms tomorrow morning. Already, he couldn’t wait to look at them. He couldn’t wait to do this again.

His hips drove into yours—sloppily, accompanied by loud sounds of skin slapping on skin—until he fell over the edge, groaning loudly as he spilled himself into the condom. His body twitched as he pushed into you—one final stroke of your soft, sensitive walls—then he stilled completely.

His face was inches from yours, and you were the one who reached out to connect your lips, turning his groan into a dangerous whimper. Your kiss burned through him like electricity and, impossibly, seemed to prolong his climax.

He kissed you back like it was the first time, still powerless from his high, still feeling like he was floating, unable to come down, to pull out, to stop kissing you.

Breathless, you whined against his mouth and felt him stir inside of you, sparking a sudden new fire in your stomach before the previous one could fully go out.

He wanted you, needed you still—maybe he’d never stop. But it was the way you responded to him, the way he felt you need him as much as he needed you, that made him growl into the kiss as his hands reached for the parts of you that he'd touched hundreds of times tonight already.

It was almost desperate, the way you were still clinging to one another—like you’d never touched each other before and never would again.

Finally, you pulled away to inhale. And to, hopefully, recover.

“Fuck,” Jungkook whispered, summarising all that you were about to say.

You both chuckled, giddy, excited, almost euphoric.

He rested his forehead against yours and pressed another soft kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out, and stepping back to discard the condom.

In no more than three seconds, he was back on the bed next to you, pulling you to his side and kissing you once more.

It was three seconds then, he decided, that he could survive away from you.

For a good minute after that, the two of you just watched each other, your chests rising and falling as your bodies tried to fathom something that your minds failed to grasp.

Suddenly, you shook your head.

“What?” he asked. His lips were stretched into what felt like a permanent smile.

“Nothing, I just… it would be very difficult to explain where we were if someone noticed us missing,” you said—your words humorous, but the meaning behind them serious.

Even though you smiled as you spoke, Jungkook swallowed and nodded, solemn all of a sudden.

“I know,” he said. “And I don’t care if anyone knows. I only care that we do.”

You ran your tongue over your swollen lips, preparing to say something that he knew he wouldn’t like. But he was paralysed as he watched you. He swore your lips were the colour of his dreams, and he had to clench his jaw so he wouldn’t lean over and kiss you again.

He forced himself to roll onto his back and spoke up before you could, making sure his voice was as nonchalant as possible, given the hurricane inside his chest, “can we—can we not talk about that right now? Can I just stay here instead?”

You looked at him—which was incredibly easy when he wasn’t looking back at you—and forgot, for a moment, that you had to reply.

He looked almost ethereal like this, with his head resting on the pillows next to you, his hair tousled, stray curls sticking to the droplets of sweat on his forehead, his lips pursed slightly as he stared ahead. A part of you wished to take a picture, to hold onto this moment forever. But a different part of you didn’t want anyone else to witness him like this, not even the lens of your phone camera.

He suddenly turned his head to look at you and you blinked, averting your eyes as you remembered that you hadn’t spoken.

“Hmm. Yes,” you said, the word scratchy as it caught in your dry throat. You cleared it and tried again, “okay.”

Jungkook hummed somehow ambiguously and looked away.

“What?” you asked, confused by the look on his face.

“I thought you’d still tell me to leave,” he admitted.

You sighed. “You should. But I want you to stay. I’m fine with doing what I want tonight, however stupid that might turn out to be.”

He ignored the doubt in your voice—he was getting good at that—and looked at you again. He knew you probably couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of fire your words ignited inside of him, and just how far the sparks travelled on his skin.

“Then I hope you know,” he said, “that I’m fine with only getting ten minutes of sleep tonight.”

Quietly, you replied, “I think I’m fine, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, briskly turning to his side and propping himself up on his elbow with renewed excitement.

His abrupt jump made you chuckle despite your best attempts to remain serious, and his grin widened as he brought his hand to the side of your face and leaned in to kiss you once more. Then, twice more. Then three more times—in perpetuity, he hoped.

He knew that he was blessed to have experienced a lot of happiness in his life. But nothing came close to the feeling of your lips on his as the two of you played around in your hotel bed in Amsterdam, two nights before his band’s inaugural performance in The Netherlands during their first European tour.

This was a dream, it had to be.

And he was determined to do everything to make sure he never woke up from it.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “like that”

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#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook au #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts rockstar au #jungkook rockstar au

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licorice-tea · 4 months

Text

I Wish You Knew I Was Real

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: strawhat! reader, fluff and feelings, confessions, midnight snacks (literally), mentions of WCI but no huge spoilers, reader has no specified gender

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: first fic of the new year! i don’t usually write for sanji so i hope this isn’t ooc… anyway, enjoy! also lmk what you think bc idrk how i feel about this one 🤷‍♀️

It’s well past midnight when you sneak into the kitchen of the Thousand Sunny to fix yourself a snack. It wouldn’t really matter if you get caught, seeing as it’s your ship too, but you’d rather not wake up or bother your crewmates.

“Y/n?”

You pause your chopping to find the source of the voice, Sanji, standing in the doorway. He yawns behind his hand as he walks in, “It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing up here?”

“I just got hungry.” But as soon as he’s close enough to see your hands working on cutting up fruit, he seems appalled. “What’s wrong?”

In Sanji’s mind, you should never have to cook for yourself. At least, not when he’s there on the same ship. Not when he would always be so willing and ready to help you out; to use his skills to please you.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? You know I can do it for you, sweetheart-“

“That’s why I tried not to wake you up. You need to get your rest, but I guess I was too noisy, huh?”

Sanji shakes his head determinedly, then gently moves his left hand over yours to take the knife while also holding your waist with his right so that he can maneuver you away from the cutting board. You let him, and he explains, “I get plenty of rest; if you ever need something, y/n, you can come to me. Day or night.”

You hum in acceptance of his statement, and feel content with simply watching him cut the apple into slices from your place beside him. He finishes creating the perfect little slices quickly, then goes the extra mile by carving small triangles out of the peel of each. A smile grows on your lips as you realize they’re meant to look like little bunnies; and they do.

“Cute,” you muse quietly at his creation “Thank you, Sanji.”

The cook smiles to himself before looking over at you, “I thought you’d like them more this way.”

This makes you laugh before replying, “Like a kid who only eats dinosaur shaped nuggets?”

“No, no,” he chuckles as well, “but I know you have an appreciation for aesthetics. Besides, I was right wasn’t I? You think they’re cute, so that’s all that matters.” Sanji says while plating the bunny-apple slices.

You scoot closer, so that your sides are pressed against each other, in a futile attempt to reach across and grab the plate. But, Sanji stops you again with his gentle touch (he’s always so very soft with you, rather than overbearing and borderline obsessive. But, you’d like love him either way.)

His right hand stays on your wrist as his left reaches up into a cabinet to grab the honey jar. He makes a display of lifting a generous amount of honey using the honey dipper over your plate, and drizzling it over the apples. Enough to satisfy your sweet tooth, but not so much it will create a sticky mess.

“Perfect.” he gestures for you to go sit at the kitchen island, but you insist you can “carry the plate just fine.” To which Sanji replies, “I know, but I don’t mind. I like taking care of you like this.”

There’s a faint tinge of red on his cheeks, but you’d never mention it. Especially not when your own, not so platonic feelings for the cook seem to constantly be in the back of your mind these days.

You take a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, and Sanji presents your midnight snack with a flourish. “Enjoy, y/n.” He’s walks away to wash his hands, and you expect him to return to sit beside you, but then he walks toward the door.

“Sanji…” He pauses and looks back at you, “Do you want to stay?” You feel sort of awful asking, really, because he’s probably tired, but something inside you just can’t let him go.

And sure enough, his lips curve up into a smile. “I thought you’d never ask!”

He pulls out the stool next to yours and slides onto it, then rests his arm on the back of your seat. The proximity is not unwelcome- you felt it never could be when it came from him- but even if he was, he’s not invading your space. More so creating a kind of link between the two of you, and a feeling of closeness beyond the physical.

You take a bite of one of your apple slices, only to frown slightly when you pull the half eaten slice away from your mouth and realize you’ve destroyed the bunny. Sanji nearly laughs, for he has a similar empathetic disposition and knows how you feel, but then he notices something.

There’s a smidge of honey left behind on the corner of your mouth, which you have not taken notice of, because if you had you surely would’ve licked it up. Even the thought of that sight could make him act a fool, but he’ll try his best not to (just for you.)

“Look here.” he says in a near whisper, and you do. With no other words, he cups your chin and wipes the honey from your lips with his thumb. Your eyes go wide at the first action (when he touches your face to begin with), but they seem to soften when you realize what he’s doing. Sanji takes notice of this too, and just offers a smile. Because what else can he do?

He’s a flirt; he knows that, and so do you, and everyone else he’s ever met. So if he ever were to make a move on you, there’s no way you’d take him seriously. Then again, that’s why he tries to tone down his flirting with you in the first place. He can’t stand the thought of you being under the impression that you’re the same as every girl in the world is to him; because you’re not. You’re… special, in a way. He feels bad saying you’re his favorite of the many objects of his affections, because he has genuine love for so many people (you are though.) But, he can say with certainty that his feelings for you are the only serious ones. No matter how many women he tries to woo on all the adventures of the Straw Hats, he’ll always come back to you. Sanji will always choose you.

“Um, Sanji?” His hand is still on your jaw with his thumb on your bottom lip, so you pull it away with gentle force. “Sanji?” Hearing your sweet voice pulls him out of his stupor (the first time, he was concentrated on simply the sound of your voice.)

“Sorry, sweetness, I uh… Your pretty lips distracted me for a second~” Sanji purposely exaggerates his tone a little, so you just accept his reasoning with a giggle.

“Sure thing, Sanji.”

You eat your apple slices in comfortable silence for a bit, thinking of the aforementioned feelings you’ve been harboring for the chef since… Who knows- but you didn’t realize these feelings until you saw him for the first time after 2 years spent training apart. There had never been such a strong excitement in your voice as when you called his name that day, and he launched himself onto you in a tight hug. You had walked to the predetermined meeting place and entered the bar together, hand in hand. It felt so natural, too; like your hands were meant to fit together. Of course, you’d never voice these feelings, because if Sanji had feelings for you surely he’d tell you. Eventually, you hope. This brings about another question in your mind;

“Why do you like women? I mean, like, every woman we meet, even if she’s an enemy?”

He shrugs slightly, “At one point, the only people who were kind to me were women. Remember I told you about my mom and my sister?” During the Whole Cake Island experience, Sanji had in fact explained more about his relationships with his family members, and you recalled how his mother and sister were the only ones that showed him any sort of empathy.

“Mhm… That makes sense.” a moment of silence passes, as you’re a little nervous to ask this next question. “And why do you like me?”

The cook’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights, and he glances at you before concentrating on the surface of the island table. “I… I like this crew because you’re all my nakama. But…” It’s unusual to hear the typically very passionate man say something so quietly. You tilt your head as if to say, “Go on. I’m listening,” so he continues, “You’re important to me, y/n.”

“Good, you’re important to me, too.”

“Really?” Sanji seems a little shocked, “You know, I… I try not to be the way I am with women, with you, because I want you to take me seriously. I want you to know I mean it when I say nice things or do favors for you. I want you to know that it’s real.”

“I do take you seriously.”

Then, he takes a deep breath and puts both of his hands around one of yours, “And I want you to take my feelings for you seriously, when I confess them to you.”

“…Didn’t you just…?”

He grins and shakes his head, “No, y/n. When I confess the type of feelings I have for you and the extent of them, I’ll do it much more romantically than this.” Sanji looks positively giddy now, smiling and tightly (but not uncomfortably) holding your hand. “I just want you to know that what I feel for you is real.” And with that, he plants a chaste kiss on your cheek. It’s nothing like his occasionally vulgar and pg-13 methods of wooing women, but it makes your heart skip a beat. You’re sort of at a loss for words…

This time you’re the one pulled out of a daze by the other’s voice when he says, “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Oh, goodnight Sanji.” You smile at him, and he smiles back before nodding at you and leaving.

Even if that wasn’t a real confession, and maybe the timing wasn’t quite right, you were still biting back a smile as you rinsed off your plate and placed it in the dishwasher. But now you have a real confession to look forwards to, according to Sanji.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #x reader #oneshot #sanji x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #please forgive the poor grammar #i wrote this in the a.m.#he’s so cute

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silverstonesainz · 7 months

Text

a thing

─── the one where max drunkenly admits to something frat!max x reader 1.6k words prompt: putting the word "my" in front of their name when calling for them

d rambles. . . i used "my girl" instead of my + y/n bc i hate using y/n. hope thats fine!!

max’s fingers are splayed against your bare stomach, just under the hem of your crop top. he’s warm, smells of sweet musk and a mix of vodka. you stand with your back pressed against his chest, watching a match of beer pong unfold between daniel and alex. your eyes follow the white ping pong ball from side to side, watching it bounce into red solo cups. the game is neck and neck, three cups left for daniel, two for alex.

touchy. max is touchy when he’s drunk. but it’s nothing new to you, nothing new to his brothers. its why no one bats an eye when he snakes his arm around your waist, or when he rests his chin on your shoulder. it doesn’t phase anyone anymore. it doesn’t mean anything, you both insist.

it doesn’t. right?

“bets on who wins?” max says into your hear, voice loud as he competes the bass blaring through the speaker

“daniel.” you don’t miss a beat, “he always wins.”

“fine then i bet on alex.”

and at that second, the thai boy flicks his wrist a little too hard, the white ball bouncing off the plastic table and past danny. you giggle, turning your head to look at max— his face flushed and pink lips parted in disbelief.

“twenty bucks?”

his closes his mouth, pulling back slightly so that he can look at you. his eyes darken, glint of excitement in them as he grins. “you’re on.”

three perfect throws from daniel and one failed redemption shot from alex later, you’re twenty dollars richer. max glares, rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. you grin, waving the bill in his face before stuffing into your back pocket.

“fuck you alex.” max calls out as the two boys join you.

alex laughs, leaning against the wall next to him, “what did i do?”

“lost me twenty dollars is what you did.” max flicks his middle finger up at his fraternity brother, and it returned another round of laughter.

danny slings his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side with a wide grin on his face. “it’s what you get when you doubt me verstappen.”

you see it, the way max’s eyes flicker from yours to daniel’s arm hanging off you. you see the way he clenches his jaw before he looks up at his brother, rolling his eyes. its less playful, more annoyed. but daniel is too oblivious, already talking to alex about a rematch.

“i’m… i’m gonna get a drink,” max mumbles, pushing himself off the wall. he stumbles past you, disappears in the mess of drunk people.

neither of the boys in your presence seem to notice the shift in the atmosphere, the way max left so abruptly. you shift on your feet, straightening your posture. daniel’s arm slides off with ease, goes unnoticed by the man as he leans in to hear whatever it is alex has to say.

“… so we play doubles then.” you hear daniel say. he turns to you, “play with me?”

you scrunch your nose, “i dunno, i’m not very good.”

“nonsense. we’ll be fine. c’mon.”

your eyes scan the room, trying to catch a glimpse of max between all the bodies in the room. but he’s lost, your don’t find him. so you concede to the offer, following daniel to one end of the table while alex pulls another brother to join him.

and true to your word, you weren’t very good at the game. but to be fair, you were much better than alex. the boy scowls at you as you make another ball, cups swindling down from seven to six. daniel chuckles beside you, giving your back a pat.

“atta girl.”

you blush, shifting nervously on your feet as daniel takes his place at the head of the table, the small ball resting between his index, middle, and thumb. it take no effort for him as he flicks his wrist, the ball coming close to a cup but ultimately bouncing off the rim. the aussie clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers against the edge of his table.

alex’s partner chases after the lost ball disappearing between bodies as he scurries for it. danny looks down at you, leans over so you could hear him.

“so you and max?”

you smile, roll your eyes, “me and max.”

“that a thing yet?”

your cheeks tint pink again, shrugging. “dunno, you’d have to ask him.”

an age old storyline, one you hate to admit you have. but it’s true. you stand in a weird limbo with max. while it’s clear to his friends, to the people around you, the words had yet to be said. because if you were both being honest, there are no real boundaries. there are no rules, no limits. just an unspoken assumption that you were only sleeping with him, and him with you. that he was only taking you out for lunch, or that he only invites you to sleep over. but you’d never really know, there isn’t much backing to the theory that it really is just you.

alex throws the ball, sinks it in the cup by you and you move it to the side. his partner does the same, and you have to toss the balls back.

danny hums, “funny, max says the same thing when i ask him.”

you turn your head, but before you could ask him to explain further, the ball bounces off the table and down to your feet. the game carries on without much conversation about max, and in the end you and daniel end up winning.

alex waves you both off, screams that he’s off to grab another drink.

you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see an unfamiliar face. young, almost afraid as he says your name. it’s a question, like he’s asking you to confirm you’re you. you furrow your brows, nodding, and the boy sighs relieved.

“been looking for ya. carlos is looking for you. upstairs.”

you frown but nod, thanking the boy before pushing your way through the house. you squeeze past sweaty bodies, past people making out in the open and dodge cups being passed around. you move further and further, up the stairs and away from the mess of the party below. carlos is leaned against the wall, waves you over when he sees you.

“max is asking for you.”

you tilt your head, following his lead two doors down and into the only one thats open. max sits on his bed, red in the face with a dopey smile on his face.

“there’s my girl!”

my girl. my. my. my.

you smile awkwardly up at carlos, who just chuckles. “hes been saying that for the last ten minutes. where’s my girl? find my girl.” he mocks max’s voice. “my, my, my.”

you nod, cheeks hot and lips pressed together tightly. you exhale through your nose, looking at max who reaches out of you. “yeah… i got this.”

“im across the hall if you need me.”

carlos walks out the door, humming softly as he shuts the door. you make your way to max, whose hands are quick to attach themselves to you. he pulls you between his legs, head tilted up at you. “missed you.”

“i was only downstairs.” you mumble, pushing strings of sweaty hair away from his face. his eyes falls shut, bottom lip pushed out in a pout

“with daniel.” “with our friends.”

his eyes pop open, looks up at you with furrowed brows. “you like daniel more than me?”

“why would you think that?” he shrugs, “maxy…”

“you’re my girl you know.” he mumbles, “he can’t have you.”

you chuckle. “am i? am i your girl?” its a half playful, a way to gage his reaction. to see if he laughs along or means what he says.

he frowns, “you don’t think you are?”

you shrug, pulling his hands from your figure so you can sit by him. you sigh, rubbing your face before looking back at max. his cheeks are so red, eyes so soft.

“we shouldn’t have this conversation while you’re drunk.” you mutter, biting down on your bottom lip for a second.

“i’m not that drunk-“ “-max-“ “- and if i was, it doesn’t change how i feel.”

“max.” he says your name in the same tone, and you raise a brow.

he bursts into a fit of giggles, rubbing his face before pushing his fingers through his hair. “fine. tomorrow. okay? we’ll talk.” he falls onto his bed, turns his body and pulls the covers back so he can slip under them. but he doesn’t pull it back, instead looks up at you with wide blue eyes. “you coming?”

“max.” he huffs your name back, and you scrunch your nose. “fine. i’m coming.”

he grins, watches as you kick off your shoes before slipping under the covers with him. he holds you close, eyes falling shut immediately. you watch him, watch the small content smile slip from his face he lets sleep take him.

“max” you whisper. he hums a soft hm, squeaky and tired. “will we really talk about it in the morning?”

he peaks out of one eye to look at you before shutting it again. “about you being my girl? yes.”

okay, you squeak. you turn over to switch off the lamp before melting into him again. his breathing turns shallow, sleep surely near.

you poke his chest and he whines. “so you think were a thing?”

his laugh is tired, dry, “we’ll talk in the morning. now let me sleep. my head is spinning.”

quiet. shallow breathing. the soft buzz of a forgotten party happening beneath you.

and in the dark, you feel max kiss your forehead softly.

“but yeah,” he whispers. “i think so. we’re definitely a thing.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen one shot #frat max

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

You’ve done an aged up quirk story, could I request one one where the Heart Pirates get hit with the opposite, and suddenly reader and Law are frantically taking care baby everyone. And there’s something about seeing reader handling babies that stirs…something in Law.

Hiya!! I actually haven't done a story like that before so I think you have me confused for Coza who did do an aged up thing, but I hope I can do this justice for you! But also hey i made it a week on this blog before devolving into my law based brainrot also most of this is under a readmore bc it's LONG pulling in at about 2.4k

[!]: MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

[Heads up!: devil fruit effects, fingering, reader is not gendered but there is usage of termed genitals(clit), unprotected sex, breeding kink, piv, i think i have my bases covered]

All in all, you’re really not sure this situation can get worse.

But on second thought, you amend it ㅡ things can always get worse. And so, correction ㅡ things could get worse, but you’re desperately hoping that they won’t.

“[Name]?” You look down at the tiny redhead, his arms wound around your leg. “Can you hold me?”

“Of course.” You bend down as he reaches up, your hands hooking under his arms to lift the small boy into your arms, situating him against your hip. “Careful though, don’t wake Bepo.”

The mink, now reduced to a small cub, is fast asleep in the cloth you’ve tied around yourself as a makeshift carrier, his head resting against your shoulder. Approaching footsteps make your attention shift to the newcomer, your eyes locking with familiar gold. “Any luck?”

Law shakes his head. “I didn’t figure that he’d hang around long afterwards. Baㅡ” Your eyes narrow in warning and Law looks away, jaw clenching as he surveys the mess that’s been made of his crew. Besides you and himself, the rest of the crew’d been the unfortunate victims of a devil fruit effect that’d reverted them to children ㅡ and without their current, adult frame of mind.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask, adjusting Shachi on your hip again, and Law’s eyes flick from the redhead to Bepo’s sleeping face, then to his own hands. Both are occupied by a set much smaller than his own, and Ikkaku looks up at him and beams as Clione stares at the ground, scuffing his shoe in the dirt.

What an odd scene this must appear to be ㅡ two adults and a group of children of varying sizes scattered nearby, tucked far enough into an alleyway that the casual passersby wouldn’t spot them.

“Not sure. If we’re lucky, it shouldn’t last much more than a couple of hours.”

“Well, nothing to be done but figure out how to look after them until it wears off.” You wiggle the fingers of your free hand in invitation, and Law watches as Uni darts over to latch onto it with both of his. “Should we take them back to the Polar Tang?”

“That’d probably be our best bet,” Law sighs, and Clione looks up at him with a frown.

“Are you mad at us?”

Law turns, lips parting ㅡ and you cut him off before he can speak, your tone gentle in a way he’s never heard. “Of course not. Nobody’s mad at any of you, okay? You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

Clione perks up at your words and you smile, pleased that you’ve been able to help cheer up your crewmate. Pushing down the stir of something odd in his chest, Law looks back up at you. “We should head back.”

You nod and adjust Shachi again, coaxing him to wrap skinny arms around your neck for support and still when Bepo squirms at the accidental knock of Shachi’s hand against his cheek, though the mink otherwise stays asleep.

You slip past Law and he watches as Hakugan, Penguin and Jean Bart hurry to follow you, sight uncannily similar to that of ducklings following their mother. Glancing down at Ikkaku and Clione, he heaves a soft sigh before he moves to follow you.

You make it half-way back through the little town before Ikkaku is tugging on his hand, and he glances down at her. “My feet hurt.” Cheeks puffed in a tiny pout, brown eyes bore into his own as she tugs on his hand for emphasis. “Carry me!”

“It’s not much further,” he tries, adjusting his tone so that it’s something closer to yours had been and when it doesn’t do anything beyond making Ikkaku pout further and stomp one of her feet, he gives in and lets go of Clione’s hand for a moment to pick Ikkaku up. The tiny girl makes a noise of delight, and he reaches for Clione’s hand again, little fingers curling around his.

He knows how strange the two of you must look with your entourage of children, and he finds himself wishing more now than ever that the effects of that devil fruit will wear off. You’re stuck here until it does, after all ㅡ the two of you can’t pilot the Polar Tang on your own, and he’s not certain about the effect of deep-sea submersion on children.

“You have a lovely family, my dear.” Law looks up to find you halted by an older woman who watches his crew cluster around your legs, Shachi tucking his face against your shoulder. As Law steps closer, her eyes flick to him. “This must be your husband.”

There it is again, the odd flicker from before ㅡ stronger now, even as warmth threatens to rise to his cheeks at being called your husband. Your own are already pink, though your smile stays polite.

“Thank-you,” you say, and the lady beams before she hurries off ㅡ apparently her only intent to compliment you and your supposed family. The Heart Pirates are your family, you've said that before and made it clear ㅡ but that woman's words are rattling around in Law's head with an entirely new kind of persistence.

He's never given what he'll do after all of this much thought. To keep himself grounded in reality and not let himself hope for too much, he's told himself he'll be fine with just making it out alive. But now?

"Law?" Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts to find you watching him, your expression somewhere between confusion and concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, "let's keep moving. The sooner we're back on the Polar Tang, the better."

Now, he thinks he might give it more thought. Something soft, vulnerable ㅡ a future with you, where he can be your husband. He's never even thought about marriage like that, but being called your husband ㅡ he could get used to that.

And a family.

That surprises him, the sudden want for it ㅡ or maybe it's always been there, pushed down and buried. He doesn't even know your own thoughts on it ㅡ what you want for the future. You've never talked about it in depth before ㅡ but he still hopes that whatever you want, he can be the one to give it to you.

ㅡ

"They're all finally asleep," you report quietly as you slip into Law's room, shutting the door with a sigh. "They'll be confused if they wake up like that and they're back to normal." You pause. "They are cute, though."

"Small price to pay," Law says, watching as you climb over his legs to settle on the bed beside him. "I just hope they don't remember this."

"Embarrassed that they might see you as anything but a grump?" You tease, grinning when he gives you a flat look. "I saw you holding Ikkaku earlier, it was cute." You reach, snuggling into his side. "I can see you as a dad to a little girl."

Law tenses. "About that," he starts, and you pull away to regard him curiously as his attention shifts to you, eyes locking with yours. "Have you thought about what you want when this is over?"

Your head tilts. "I mean not really," you admit, "but if I had to…I think I'd want us to settle down somewhere nice. I'd want a garden, so it'd have to be a place with good weather…" Law is staring at you, and you trail off. "What?"

"You said 'us'," he points out, and you snort, amused.

"Well yeah, dummy. You think I want that with anyone but you?" There's a small smile tugging at your lips, one that gives him the push to continue with his next question.

"And…would you want a family?"

"Well, you're my family," you say and his lips part to protest that he doesn't mean like that, but you're continuing before he can. "But like…our family? Between you and me? Yes, but…I would never push for something you didn't want too, Law." Your tone is soft but expression serious, no sign of teasing. "Kids or no kids, I want my future to be with you, whatever that means for us."

He wants to agree. Wants to tell you that he feels the same way, that it doesn't matter as long as he has you ㅡ but instead, he kisses you.

He can tell he's surprised you with the vehemence behind it, the seconds delay before you kiss him back. You let him push you onto your back, caging you beneath him.

"Law," you manage when he finally pulls away in favor of kissing your jawline, "Law, the kidsㅡ"

"They're not really kids," Law counters and you huff, finding it hard to focus with the pinch of his teeth, worrying strawberry pink blooms down your neck.

"They're right there," you still protest weakly, though you know you're already on the losing side of the argument. Law hums, pausing against the flutter of your pulse point, lips curving into a smirk.

"Then you'll just have to keep your voice down." Law is an absolute menace when he wants to be ㅡ something he's making clear at the moment.

You bite back a whimper when his lips press against your collarbone, the upward skim of one of his hands on your stomach earning a shiver from you and the arch of your back as he palms at your breast.

There's the brief pause as he works your shirt up and over your head, his own following before there's the warmth of his mouth on your skin again.

Lifting you a hand to cradle the back of Law's neck, you whine when he reaches up, tugging your hand away and pressing it down into the bed beside your head. "If you know what's good for you," he murmurs, "you'll keep your hands there."

It's a threat and a promise, one that makes heat pool between your legs, instinctive upward roll of your hips against earning you a groan against your skin as he grinds down against you.

The path that Law makes down your chest is gentle but intentional, the brush of fingers down your ribs as he lets his attention linger at the soft skin of your stomach. Your cheeks burn at the soft intimacy of it, the strategic handful kisses at your navel, down to the swell of your hip bone.

And then Law is moving back up, kissing you soundly as he pops the button of your pants, tugging the fabric of your underwear down with it and thumbing at the plush of your thighs as he skims his hands back up.

The sink of one long finger into you gets a choked gasp of his name, one that makes him smirk, watching your face contort with pleasure as he adds a second finger.

"This soaked and I've barely touched you," he murmurs, eyes gleaming at the crawl of darker red across your cheeks before your hips buck at the curl of his fingers. You've been intimate only a handful of times but he knows you like the back of his hand, drinking in every sound and face you make and committing them to memory.

He can feel the slick pulse of your walls around his fingers, clenching with every curl and press of his digits, a moan slipping from your lips when he scissors them. A hard crook of his fingers paired with the abrupt press of his thumb against your swollen clit is what does you in as you cum, clenching hard around his fingers as you soak his hand.

He gives you a moment to recover, watches your chest heave as he reaches to shed the last of his own clothing. His skin is warm against yours as he settles over you, hisses at the slick drag of your core against his throbbing length.

"Want you," you say, and Law's chest aches as he leans in to kiss you. This time he does it sweetly, intertwines one of your hands with his, the other slipping down to guide himself to your entrance before he sinks into you.

Your fingers squeeze his as Law's hips meet flush to yours, room quiet save for the sound of soft panting as you try to ground yourself. Law hisses as you clench around him, kissing the corner of your mouth before he pulls back enough to start moving.

It's not as rough as you'd been expecting with how suddenly he'd pounced on you, but there's a certain intensity to his thrusts that doesn't go unnoticed. Your gaze drifts over the flush to Law's cheeks, the fine layer of sweat at his forehead, the shock of dark hair you so often run your fingers through during late nights and early mornings. Times where he's wholly, selfishly yours, just as much as you are his.

Pleasure lances through your veins when he shifts his hips a little, nudges your legs apart a tiny bit further apart so that he sinks just a little deeper into you. The hand intertwined with yours slips free, fingers drumming down your ribs and in.

The barely there swell of your lower stomach is what catches Law's attention, magnetic as he spreads his fingers against it, pressing down slightly. It's not enough to hurt you, would never be that much ㅡ but the way your eyes roll makes it beyond worth it.

"Gonna give you a baby," he says, words tumbling from his lips unchecked, "give you everything you could ever want, so long as you're mine."

He pairs it with a rougher thrust, aware of how you're clenching around him, dangerously close to that precipice. "Say you're mine, [Name]. Wanna hear you say it."

"Yours," you gasp, voice pitching higher when he slips his hand down to rub at your clit, working it in tight circles. "I'm yours!"

Law cums first, presses as deep as he can and groans into your neck as he spills into you, setting off your own orgasm as you clench around him with a moan.

He all but collapses against you, breathing hard as you drag a hand up and down his back. Once he's caught his breath, he leans up enough for a soft kiss, one you return before you thread your fingers into his hair and tug him away from your mouth.

He expects a comment on what the two of you just did, or perhaps something about what he had said, the potential ramifications of your actions. But you don't. Instead you stare at him sweetly, a juxtaposition from the words that you say next.

"If the kids heard any of that," you warn, "you're dead to me."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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cheollipop · 8 months

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so I've been thinking about the sleepover and there's one scenario won't leave my mind.. Imagine you (reader) is dating seonghwa but he seems to know that san has a thing for you as well. He thought nothing of it when san would linger in his room when you were over but then he started to notice san's eyes look longingly after the two of you. There was nothing san missed, not a touch or shared glance, but he didn't seonghwa watching him. After sometime seonghwa suggest san "sleepover" while that watch a movie marathon. cramped side by side in seonghwa's bed you try to watch the movie but there's more attention on you than on the flashing tv screen.

My brain hasn't filled in the blanks but what if San lays beneath you, pressed chest to chest while seonghwa rails into you from above. Imagine San's poor cock trapped between the two of you. Leaking and swollen red. But he can't take his eyes of your changing face expressions. Seonghwa has practically pinned your waist to San. A whiny moan leaving San's mouth everytime Hwa thrust harshly. Fingers probably twitching at his side, unsure if he can touch you or not.

I'm going to throw myself in front of a moving bus,,, I am so horny for these two.

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

nabi.....i've dmed you about this very ask,, screaming, creaming, crying, throwing UP- ahem. no fr though, the visual alone had me gripping my sheets and contemplating arson. bc???? oh my lord. I wrote this all in one go, and it ended up being longer than I thought it would be bc I ignored every possible ending until I realised that I needed to stop ✋ thank you SO much for sharing this with me, and I really hope I did it justice!~ happy reading~ ^^

pairing: bf!park seonghwa x fem!reader x roommate!choi san

w.c.: 0.9k

tags: smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mean-ish dom!seonghwa, san is soo desperate, begging, grinding (ig?), hints of a creampie kink, i think that's it >:]

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

“You wanna touch her, don’t you?”

The fingers digging into the flesh of your hips splayed out between your shoulder blades, pushing you down onto San’s body, nipples brushing over his and breaths mingling in the shortened gap between your faces. Seonghwa hammered his cock into you, getting off on the broken moans leaving your lips, and perhaps on San’s pathetic expression as well—furrowed eyebrows and teary, hooded eyes taking in the sweat beading on your forehead—as he watched him use your cunt like a cocksleeve, arms resting idly beside him while he resisted the urge to touch your trembling body.

“Bet you’re leaking all over her.”

A shiver ran through San’s body, spurting more precum onto his lower belly, the sticky mess transferring onto yours as you jerked forward with every thrust. A whimper fell from his lips, his cock—hard and throbbing—trapped between his firm torso and yours, and more than ever, he wanted to watch it sink into your tight heat, to empty out the load he’d been holding onto just for you, only to watch it flood out in thick streams.

“Think I didn’t know you were jerking off in your room every time I fucked her? You dirty slut,” the backs of your thighs stung as Seonghwa pumped his cock into you with fervour, folding himself over your figure with a growl echoing in his throat, peering at San over your shoulder. You nearly scoffed; he’d missed the hints of irony laced into his last statement. Seonghwa was the one getting off on fucking you atop his roommate’s body, his cock pulsing between your walls at the desperate whine leaving San’s lips. “You wanna touch her?”

San’s eyes snapped off your blissed-out face to meet Seonghwa’s, fingers twitching at his side at the mere thought of running them over your damp skin. He nodded his head vigorously, envisioning your nipples at the mercy of his thumbs and pointers, handfuls of your ass in his palms, pushing you back onto Seonghwa’s cock, and forward to grind on his.

“Beg for it, Sannie.”

And San was a desperate man, with a pride that allowed him to give the older man what he wanted, the heavy presence of his cock resting under your heated flesh nearly driving him to delirium. “Seonghwa, please. Fuck—hngh—c’mon, let me touch her, I’ve been so good. Please, please, Hwa-”

Sandwiched between the two men, Seonghwa pressed you down onto San until your face buried into the crook of his neck, missing the wide, glimmering eyes staring into those below you while he spoke, a sly smirk evident in the deep baritone, “don’t wanna.”

A stubborn, possessive side of Seonghwa surprised the both of you, a frustrated huff leaving the younger man’s lips before the other straightened up, regaining his balance on his knees before building up to a pace he knew you enjoyed. Enjoyed, meaning: burning pleasure sent your nerves into overdrive, rolling you over the edge before you could even process the speedy climb, legs closing around San’s hips while Seonghwa continued to fuck himself into your weeping cunt. Your orgasm stretched, face tucked into San’s neck and your thighs quivering violently, hips spasming away from each thrust, only for the firm hands grasping them to pull you closer again.

San simply laid there, eyes shut as he took in the melody playing in his ear—your euphonious voice matching the beat of skin-on-skin—unconsciously rutting his hips into your belly, moaning piteously as you glided over the length of his cock, painfully hard and angry at the neglect.

You wanted to give him attention since, as he said, he’d been so good. But then Seonghwa was unloading within you, making sure every last drop was fucked deep into your womb. “There we go—fuck—my pretty girl, my beautiful darling,” he grinded his cock into your used cunt, eyes fluttering at the loud squelch of your mixed arousal, “taking it all so well, ‘bet you feel so full.”

You nodded lazily, resting limply over San’s body and inhaling the faint scent of bergamot off his skin. As the blinding haze of his orgasm faded, Seonghwa’s possessiveness came into play, eying the tranquillity, the ease in which you allowed yourself to drowse in over another man’s chest. So he disrupted it, veined arms wrapping around your middle to pull you off the firm body and into his own, mooning over the slow turn of your head, the pucker of your lips as you leaned in to plant a kiss onto the plush of his. A reminder of the man settled under you came in the form of a simple muscle twitch, and two heads twisted to gawk at the sight of him: sprawled out on the sheets, milky cum painting his defined abs—the remainder of his load clinging to your abdomen—while he looked up at you through his eyelashes.

Seonghwa huffed out a laugh, an amused smirk curling his lips, “that wasn’t very good of you, was it, Sannie?”

San tilted his head, a smile gracing his feline features while his spent cock twitched in interest, his tone spiked with childish playfulness, “and what are you gonna do about that?”

#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o #cromernet #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #choi san x reader #choi san smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #san x reader #san smut #park seonghwa scenarios #choi san scenarios

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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month

Text

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles,

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished.

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm, “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.”

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note,

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.”

#mimi.writes #mimi.requests #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 angst #f1 crack #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris angst #f1 oneshot

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reverie-starlight · 1 month

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jk I watched one of my favourite keigo edits on insta and I got inspired. happy birthday 2 me 🫶🏻 (the main fic I was working on is still coming, but idk when exactly 🥹)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. pure birthday fluff with tiny little minuscule amounts of angst sprinkled in bc. well. it’s a birthday. I’m sick for my 20th, so reader is too 😔

you wake up to the sound of squeaky bedroom door hinges and a quiet but still enthusiastic rendition of happy birthday.

barely awake but just alert enough to realize what’s going on, you smile and turn over on your side to face keigo. he walks in slowly with a large bag around his wrist and a cupcake with slightly squished frosting in his palms.

he sits on his designated side of the bed (the one closer to the door since he insists on being your hero at all hours of the day) and waits for you to sit up against the headboard before sticking a candle into the dessert and lighting it for you.

“make a wish, baby,” he says. with how dark the room still is in the early morning, his face is lit up from the soft glow of the flame. warmth settles in your stomach as you watch the flickering reflection in his eyes and you can only think of one thing worth wishing for.

please let this last forever. don’t let me mess it up.

you blow out the candle and he cheers, moving to sit right next to you against the headboard. you lean your head on his shoulder and he happily feeds you pieces of cupcake, feathers working overtime trying to catch all of the crumbs before they reach the bed.

when you finish chewing a piece, he says, “how are you feeling?”

you shrug. “okay today, I think. better than yesterday, for sure- I feel like I can breathe again.”

you don’t miss how he winces at your voice, definitely less congested than the last few days, but sounding even more rough from lack of use overnight. you try to clear your throat, but it turns into a coughing fit. “drink some water, angel, don’t strain yourself.”

the stream of water soothes the itch and you sigh in relief. keigo, not phased one bit by your sickness, kisses your cheek, your nose, and then your lips. “I’m sorry you’re sick on your birthday, sweet girl.”

you shrug and try to play off how his nicknames are affecting you so early in the morning. “it’s okay, keigo, it could be a lot worse. a cold on my birthday isn’t the end of the world.”

his eyes soften. “yeah, but I know you were feeling more hopeful about things this year… it’s not often you get like that about your birthday, so I just wish the universe was on the same wavelength as us about that.”

you look down at your lap and pick at a loose string on the comforter. he must see your lips wobbling, because he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

it’s quiet for a second, but soon enough you’re sniffling in his arms and he knows it’s not your cold acting up.

“it’s okay, sweetheart, let it out.”

he understands birthdays are hard for you. he’s never pried into it, but he has his suspicions.

he could push, but he knows that your issues with your own birthday are far too deep-rooted to unpack in one morning before work. he’ll save it for a later date. right now all he wants is to see you smile again, so he’ll have to distract you from your thoughts.

“baby, you deserve the whole world. you know that, right?”

you shake your head. “I don’t, though. I don’t do anything deserving of what I’ve gotten so far… I don’t work hard enough, I don’t always make the best decisions for myself, I guess I’m a good person, but I could do so much better… I’m just so average. I barely even deserve-“

you end your rant with a half-hearted gesture in no particular direction, but he gets the idea and he frowns in concern.

“me? you don’t think you deserve…me?”

guilt keeps you from meeting his gaze again and he sighs.

his angel, his baby, the love of his life. the one. he just wants to take it all away.

you take things to heart too easily sometimes, so this moment might just be things you’ve let bubble up more recently… but his instinct and familiarity both tell him that these aren’t new feelings.

“sweet girl, I think it’s the other way around. I don’t think I’m very deserving of someone as incredible as you.”

you blink and finally meet his eyes again. “but…”

he doesn’t let you continue. “I would give you anything you asked for just for existing, baby. you don’t have to do a damn thing for my love.”

reaching over to grab the bag he had around his wrist earlier, he presents it to you with a wide grin and an excited glint in his eyes. “but I’ll start with this.”

you take the bag and pull out what looks like a scrapbook. the cover is decorated with foam stickers that spell out both of your names and badly cut paper hearts that look to be taken from sparkly card-stock. the book itself is made from faux-leather in your favourite colour.

your eyes travel up from the photo album to keigo, curiously. he’s happy to see a small smile forming on your face and he wipes away the last of your tears with a feather. “keigo, did you-“

he chuckles a little nervously. “I know it’s not the best work you’ve ever seen, but I wanted to make something by hand for you. I, um, I’ve never really done arts and crafts before.”

he recognizes the sound that comes out of your mouth to be the same one you make when you see a stray animal. he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but the smile on your face as you examine each page (twenty pages total, all hand decorated with printed pictures of you both documenting significant moments over the course of your relationship) makes him think the latter.

“I have other gifts for you, of course, but I know you’ve been talking about having a physical photo album instead of a digital one for a while now, so I thought I’d try it. If you don’t like it, that’s totally okay we can-“

you cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him. “keigo, shut up, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever received. there are songs associated with every picture. you’re literally so cute, where did you even get the idea for that?”

he laughs against your lips when you say that and shakes his head. “you’re joking, right? you always have a song for every occasion, how could I pass up on the opportunity?”

you press your lips against his again and he melts into it, relived that you like his first (of many) gift.

he watches you flip through it a couple more times with a smile before taking it and placing it on the nightstand. “alright, birthday girl, you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“you’re going to work?” you try to keep the disappointment out of your voice, but he hears it anyway and he’s so happy he planned for this.

“nope! I’m all yours today. I booked it off months ago, I just want you to rest up a bit more. you’re still sick, remember?”

he snickers when your hopeful smile drops at the mention of your cold. “ugh don’t remind me. but if I’m going back to sleep, you’re coming with me. you don’t have an excuse anymore and it’s my birthday, so I have some sway.”

“you always have sway, baby,” he says while getting under the covers with you.

“yeah, but I’m extra convincing today,” you argue, and he knows if he doesn’t curb the conversation right now, you’ll never fall back asleep.

“alright, alright, come here. just rest,” he tugs you down to lay on his chest and reaches under your shirt to caress your back.

“hey keigo?” you ask after a minute, voice once again riddled with sleep.

“mhm?”

“when you eventually get sick and I have to take care of you, can we add to the scrapbook some more?”

it’s a given that you would continue it together, but he doesn’t say that because he knows you’re too tired for the realization to hit you yet. so instead he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “of course, angel. that sounds great.”

you’re lulled to sleep a few minutes later to the sound of his voice whispering the sweetest of sweet nothings.

“happy birthday, baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay this is unedited bc it’s not even 7 am while I’m typing this and I don’t have time later to change anything, so I’M SORRY 😭

the other bday fic is coming I swear 🥹

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x reader fluff #keigo x reader fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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therealcocoshady · 2 months

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Hi coco I wanna try putting in a request

Marshall x fem reader

Marshall and reader have a child there 4 or 5 (boy or girl idc ) and marshal and reader are indulging in late night activities (18+) and there child wakes up screaming bc they heard y/n screaming . So they come running knocking on the door to see if she’s ok .

You don’t have to do this kinda a bad idea

Hey ! Thanks for your request ! I love your idea ❤️. I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading !

The Monster

Eminem x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : Lily gets scared when she hears Reader screaming during sex. Her and Em need to come up with some explanation.

Tags : Smut - Fluff - Comfort

Warning : SMUT (P in V, use of toys, anal, oral, biting, squirting…).

Author’s Note : I decided to use the same characters as in the one shot « One more baby ? » because why not ?

Your daughter was finally in bed, which only meant one thing : it was on. Baby-making time. Ever since you had decided to try for another child, your evenings with Marshall were filled with… spirited activities. Your sex life had always been active, but trying for a baby had you ten times hornier than you usually were. Same for your husband. For the past two months, as soon as Lily’s bedroom lights were out, you couldn’t jump on each other fast enough.

Trying for a baby not only made you hornier, it also made you more daring, more creative, much to Marshall’s delight. He was definitely enjoying the many new lingerie sets you had bought, as well as the toys and accessories. Since you had Lily on your own, with IVF, you decided to have as much fun as you could as you tried to give her a sibling. New positions, games, accessories, toys… as long as he was cumming inside of you, everything was fair game.

You were ovulating and had been a horny mess since this morning. It didn’t help that your dutiful husband had decided to work from home, staying in his grey sweatpants that you found him so sexy in. Days like this, he would usually stay in his home office but, for some reason, he had decided to work in the dining room. You weren’t going to complain : at least you got to admire him.

It was the holidays so were taking care of Lily but you couldn’t help but throw longing glances at each other. Every time he got a chance, he would tease you, brushing against you, gently squeezing your butt… and you got right back at him, leaning and bending forward every time you were in front of him so that he could have a good view of either your ass or your boobs. You felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

From Husband ❤️ : Keep on teasing me like this and you’re not walking for the next week.

You flashed him a smile and « accidentally » dropped the pencils you were holding.

- Mommy, did you drop something again ? Lily asked in an annoyed voice.

- I did, baby, you replied as you tried to hide a smile. I guess I’m really clumsy today…

- Daddy always says that we should be careful with our things, your daughter reminded you.

- And Daddy is always right, Marshall added with a smirk. I swear, Lily is the only good girl around here…

You giggled and bent to pick up the pencils as your husband stared at you - or rather at your cleavage that also showed a hint of the lingerie set that was waiting for him. You saw him licking his lips. Obviously, black lace was always a good choice. You forgot where you were and eye-fucked each other for a second before being taken out of your trance by Lily.

- Daddy, will you come and draw with us ? She asked.

- I have work to do, sweetie, he said with a small pout. I’d love to draw with you but Paul is going to be very unhappy if I don’t review these contracts for tomorrow.

- Uncle Paul always gives you work, she complained as she rolled her eyes.

- True, he chuckled. Next time you see him, you tell him he needs to leave Daddy alone, alright ?

- Yes, she said. You’re my Daddy and I miss drawing with you.

You could see Marshall’s heart melt at these words. He threw a guilty glance at the contracts on the dining room table and you could tell he was tempted to drop everything.

- I really have to work, baby, he said. But if you let me work in peace, I can go quicker and then we can do something together, ok ?

- Ok, she said. Can we make pizza just the two of us tonight ?

- Of course, he said with a smile. We can cook for Mommy. I think she’s a little too clumsy to be in the kitchen today anyway.

You giggled and took your daughter to the living room to draw for a little bit. As the evening came, Marshall kept his promise and cooked with Lily. Pizza was her favorite thing to make with her Dad. The two of them always made a mess in the kitchen, but it made them so happy that it was worth it. When it was time for bed, she insisted that Marshall be the one to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. She was clearly in her « Dad phase » and he was her favorite parent. You’d read it was normal so you didn’t worry much. Plus, it was fair : he was working a lot lately, so she probably missed him.

You decided to make the most of it and wait for your husband in the bedroom, only wearing your lingerie and high heels. With a 5 year-old, you didn’t wear your heels too much, but you knew how much Marshall loved the sight of your legs when you wore these red bottoms. You were searching for something in a drawer when you heard him enter the bedroom and lock the door. The familiar sound was always arousing to you. It was time to play.

- I have a bone to pick with you, Mrs Mathers, he said playfully in your ear as he stood behind you.

- Do you ? You giggled.

- You drove me crazy all day, he whispered. Time for consequences.

You were about to turn and face him when you felt his hands on the back of your neck, forcing you to bend over the dresser. He got closer to you until you could feel how hard he was. You couldn’t help but moan. After all, you had spent the whole day waiting for this moment. Little did he know that you were soaking wet.

- I could take you right here, he whispered in your ear.

- Please, you moaned.

- Not yet, he chuckled. Let me enjoy the view.

He ran his hands on your sides, your back, your legs, spilling kisses all over your body as you stayed in this position, all his to enjoy. He kneeled behind you and kissed your ass cheek before making your lace panties slide off your legs. He kissed your thigh, going higher and higher until you felt him kissing your pussy, from behind. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue up and down your slit. He slid a finger inside you, feeling how wet you were.

- For me ? He asked playfully.

- I was actually waiting for someone else, you couldn’t help but say.

He stopped and you felt a slap on your butt. Of course you had to run your mouth. It was going to be the death of you. You silently cursed yourself for making him stop what he was doing. You wanted his mouth and fingers back to your pussy, in their rightful place. He got up and whispered in your ear.

- Am I not enough ? He asked teasingly. Do you want more ?

- Marshall, you moaned. Please.

- No, he chuckled. I’ll give you more.

He opened the drawer next to you, where you kept your toys, and got your butt plug. He put it in your mouth, telling you to suck on it. When it was wet enough, he inserted it in you, before resuming his initial position and sliding two fingers inside of your pussy. His tongue worked his magic on your clit and you tried hard not to make too much noise. The sensation of the plug, his fingers and his tongue at the same time was sending you in overdrive. It was delicious. You thought you were about to come in no time but he seemed to have other plans.

- I’m not done with you yet, baby, he said. You teased me, now it’s my turn to have fun.

He just loved driving you crazy and you knew he got off on seeing you wrestle with your pleasure. Not that you were going to complain, mind you. After years of dating selfish men when it came to sex, Marshall was a breath of fresh air. You knew you had married the right man but, in that moment, you wished he would just pound into you and make you come already. Patience was definitely not your strong suit, and especially not when you were ovulating.

He grabbed your hand and pushed you on the bed, ass up, face down. In no time, he got rid of his clothes and he did not even bother undressing you. He just pushed your panties aside before entering you. His hip thrusts were painfully slow and you knew it was on purpose. However, you were not having it, so you rocked your hips in turn, owing you another slap on the ass. However, he indulged you and started moving faster. He reached for the plug and moved it a bit, causing you to whimper in pleasure. You were on verge of orgasm when he stopped again and laid down on the bed.

- Get on top, he said.

- You’re killing me, you groaned.

- Told you I’d get my revenge, he chuckled. Now, get on top before I leave you high and dry.

You were pretty sure he wouldn’t do this to you, but you were so needy that you weren’t willing to risk it. You were craving for release and he knew it. This gave your husband way too much power over you. He was smirking I when you got on top and lowered yourself on his length, taking all of it. The presence of the plug in your butt maximised the sensations and Marshall felt even bigger than usual. You moaned as you started moving, closing your eyes and chasing your high. Your man seemed to enjoy the sensations, too. He was usually a rather quiet lover but you could hear him whimper.

- God you’re so tight, he moaned.

- I’m close, you warned.

- Come for me.

Your movements started to become sloppy, much to your frustration. You were on the edge but couldn’t quite get there. You looked at Marshall. You didn’t have to say a word for him to understand you needed a bit of help.

- I got you, he said.

He reached in your nightstand and grabbed your Satisfyer. He turned it on and put it on your clit. Your body’s response was immediate. You were shaking on top of him and your soaked sex was clenching around his. It was so strong that you let out cries of pleasure. Marshall captured your lips in an attempt to shut you up, but to no avail. Your nails were digging in his chest.

- Fuck, he said as you felt him twitch inside of you, his release being imminent.

There were too many sensations at once for you to be able to think straight and control yourself. Every inch of you was stimulated. You let out screams of pleasure as you reached orgasm. You could feel your husband try and cover your mouth but you instinctively bit his hand. He pulled you close to him and your teeth found his shoulder as you kept on having spasms. It felt like never-ending waves of pleasure. You weren’t even sure if that lasted seconds of hours. Time and space had become vague concepts. All you could hear were your own sounds.

Your head was buried in Marshall’s neck as you came to your senses, both of you panting.

- Holy shit, you managed to mumble.

You were taken out of your zone by Lily screaming. Parental instinct kicked in and you stared at each other. « On it », Marshall said before hurrying into some clothes and out of the room. You quickly got out of bed and got rid of the sextoys before getting dressed as well. You were about to check on Lily and Marshall when you heard a knock on the door.

- Mommy ? Your husband asked. Can we come in ?

- Yes, you said.

He opened the door and you could see he was carrying Lily who seemed terrified.

- Mommy ! She cried.

- What’s wrong, my love ? You asked. Did you have a nightmare ?

- I heard you scream ! I’m scared…

You threw a glance at Marshall who was trying to hide a smirk. You never realised you could be this loud.

- It’s alright, you said as you walked to them and kissed her head. Everything’s fine, baby.

- Why did you scream, mommy ? She asked nervously.

- I was… scared, you said, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

- Of what ?

- Of the monster under the bed, Marshall tentatively explained. But don’t worry, I got rid of him.

She looked anxiously at her Dad, who have her a reassuring smile. The mark your teeth had left on his shoulder caught her eye and she looked at him anxiously.

- Did the monster bite you ?! She asked.

- What ? Oh uh… yeah, he said. I had to wrestle him. Scratched my chest too. But you should see him. He looks worse.

You let out a giggle. Thank God for his brain and quick thinking. Your daughter looked at you.

- Are you alright Mommy ? Did the monster bite you too ? She asked nervously.

- He didn’t, you said reassuringly. Thank God for your Dad. He’s a hero.

- I am a hero, Marshall said proudly.

Lily hugged him tighter and gave him a peck on the cheek.

- Thank you for saving my Mommy from the monster, she said. I’m proud of you, Daddy.

- Of course, he said with a big smile. I’ll never let anything happen to Mommy, or to you, or your sisters.

- Mommy… did the Monster pee on your bed ? Lily suddenly asked.

Marshall and you glanced at the bed. There was a huge wet spot, caused by a mix of squirt and sweat. You couldn’t help but blush. You might have had your most powerful orgasm ever, tonight, but you were definitely paying for it. You were absolutely mortified, while Marshall was trying really hard not to cry from laughter.

- I guess he did, you said sheepishly. That’s how scary Dad is.

- Why don’t we go downstairs for some water ? Marshall asked Lily. So that Mommy can sort the mess the monster made in bed.

- Yes, you do that and I’ll join you, you said.

- You should also open your window, Mommy. The monster stinks, Lily pointed out.

She wasn’t wrong. The room reeked of smells typical of sex : sweat, squirt, pheromones and God knows what else. Marshall chuckled and winked at you before carrying her downstairs. You opened your bedroom window and changed the bedsheets. When you joined them in the kitchen, they were eating ice cream. You frowned, as they both knew what you thought of having sugary snacks before bed.

- We’re having a celebration, Marshall grinned. We’re celebrating the defeat of the scary monster under the bed.

- Oh, you giggled. In that case, I won’t say anything.

Lily was sitting on Marshall’s lap. She still seemed a little freaked out. He talked to her reassuringly as she asked some questions.

- I don’t want to go back to bed, she whined. What if the monster comes back ?

- I beat him real bad, you know ? He pointed out. I don’t think he will be bad anytime soon.

- What if his family comes back for revenge ? She asked nervously.

- I’ll wrestle each and everyone of them, he said. Come, I’ll tuck you in.

As he carried her up the stairs, she started hiccuping again. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you. Her cries were heartbreaking. You were a little mad at yourself for scaring her with your screams. You joined and hugged the two of them.

- Can I sleep with you tonight ? She asked.

- Of course, you said. But just for tonight, ok ?

The three of you settled in bed and you were ready to turn the lights out when she started asking about the scary monster again. Both you and your husband kept on trying to reassure her but it didn’t seem to work too well. Marshall sighed and got up. You wondered what he was up to, but you quickly understood as he came back with his huge lightsaber replica from Star Wars, which served as decor in his home office that also doubled as a man cave.

- I thought it was not supposed to be taken from the wall ? Lily pointed out.

- Yeah… except in case of monsters, duh, Marshall replied with a grin. If anyone comes in here, I promise you they won’t last long.

Your little girl nodded and settled between you and Marshall. You kissed her forehead as she held your hand tightly. Your husband smiled at you and mouthed « I love you » before turning the lights off.

In the morning, everything was back to normal, though Lily still mentioned the monster. You weren’t too sure how to deal with it and you were a bit scared you had unlocked a new trauma… you were anxiously staring at Marshall, who proved (once again) to be a quick thinker and the real genius in the house.

- How about we call Lainie and ask her if you can have a sleepover at her house tonight ? He asked Lily.

- Why ? She asked.

- Well, I think Mommy and I should check the whole house for monsters tonight, he said as he winked at you. Just in case, you know ?

Author’s Note : I hope you enjoyed this short story ❤️. I really like writing with these characters (I think Marshall and Lily are so cute) so if you have any requests for them, please keep them coming 💖.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #recovery fanfiction #marshall mathers imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut

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c4ttheart · 1 month

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prev • mlist • next

i feel like sae is ooc bc what is characterisation

did you miss me guys ☝️

sae doesn’t really know how to react when his teammates ask about you. if he didn’t know any better, he’d probably be a stuttering mess but sae is not foolish. and he is not weak. his composure will not falter. every five seconds, the camera flickers to you, with your nonchalant face until someone on his team scores.

you gave up on trying to cover your face up at this point, your cap is discarded somewhere and he can see you slightly shivering. you’re close enough to blind his eyesight every time he turns to look at you, even though he will deny that he even glanced your way. he can see that you’re trying to look as invested as possible, but it’s very obvious that you aren’t. sae would usually say that he doesn’t really care, as long as this whole ordeal brings back money, but he finds that he does kind of care. maybe just a little.

and then what he thought was a tiny bit of pity turns into a whole lot of it. he finds himself impatiently counting the seconds till halftime to talk to you. he runs across the field, again, and then again, hoping time will just go by quicker. it usually always does when he’s playing soccer. he’s lost count of the number of times his name has been pronounced by the people on the speakers. normally, he would care; having his name being said more than the others gives him some sense of pride, even though he will never admit it.

when halftime finally comes by, he rushes into the locker rooms. he doesn’t really care, the game is already over for him, it’s quite clear his team has won by a long shot. so he sacrifices five minutes of his time and comes out early, only to stop right in front of where you’re sitting. wordlessly (much to his dismay) he tosses his windbreaker to you, and you smile at him. he is blinded again, but he thinks that the aftereffect is less damaging to his eyes now. is that a good thing ? no it probably isn’t. it’s alright. maybe. you do not make eye contact. you trouble his vision until all he can focus on is you. it sounds pathetic, probably. it’s alright. he’ll live. it’s fake anyways, right ?

the authenticity of the relationship has yet to be proved, but the pit of swarming emotions he feels in his stomach is slowly starting to materialise. he’s not used to not having what he wants. it’s odd to know he has you but he doesn’t really. he hopes that is what he feels. the crowd roars. you smile. he smiles back, for what is most likely the first time ever in public. you laugh slightly, for the cheers of the people all around are louder than the screams they let out whenever someone scores. you blow him a kiss, and he rolls his eyes, but he still walks away with an almost grin on his lips.

his teammates holler when he enters the room again. they’re not stupid. he receives countless nudges, and suddenly the light hanging on the ceiling feels dimmer than before.

sae skips every interview at the end of the match. the reporters are persistent, screaming your name all over and over again to get a bit of his attention. you slipped away before anyone else, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire. it’s alright, he understands. you text him, congratulating him on his victory. it’s not as dry as he makes it out to be, but he is sour from the fact that you’re not here in person to congratulate him. maybe he is slightly disappointed in the fact that he doesn’t get to see you outside the planned dates his manager sets up. he shouldn’t be, though.

he likes the message, even though his fingers tentatively hover around his keyboard, looking for something to write. he barely knows you, you barely know him. why is he so attached already ? he sighs, and turns off his phone instead because sae has never been the greatest with emotions. you look like you don’t feel anything deep at all. but it’s all for the cameras.

why does he care. why does he keep on trying. why does he feel this way, why why why why.

he feels as if his eyesight is damaged now, and everything is less bright. the vibrant green of the field turns shallow and dull, and he can’t help but miss the colour of your eyes.

a reporter shouts in front of him, loud enough to make him hear, and wince. "mr. itoshi ! how much do you like (name) !?"

the question catches him off guard. he notices how formally he is adressed, contrarily to you. you do have that sort of aura that lures people in, he remarks, and he ponds on the question again. his manager is besides him, looking at him expectantly. sae pretends not to see, and he is so close to walking away when his mind rushes to you again. you and your small smile, you and your profile picture on twitter, you and his windbreaker, you and your bright, bright eyes. and he wonders how you would react if he said the words sitting on the tip of his tongue.

so he lets them cascade out of his mouth, erasing the crease between his brows and turning his lips the slightest bit upwards. "a lot." and he walks away again before he can hear the next question, wondering if you feel as giddy as him.

taglist (open!)

@rroxii @hellothere9597 @melon-garden @kurowvie @icvlybru @is2sae @iroriorigamii @sagejin @gyuville @tamimemo @saeskiss @gskill @comet-kun @itoshilvr

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teyums · 1 year

Text

Our Little Secret

pairing: adult!neteyam x fem na’vi reader

warnings: mdni 🔞 m receiving, sub neteyam bc yum, language, hair pulling, description of events. it’s smut, yk the rest wc: 2,062

“This-“ Neteyam swallows, quickly looking around to ensure the two of you are alone as his legs part to make room for your body. “This is a one time thing.” He breathes out in a hoarse voice. His nervous gaze only meeting your lust-filled one. You sink to your knees between his thighs, and his tongue instantly darts out to dampen his chapped lips while his amber eyes trail the hand that caresses down his tensed abdomen, all the way to his loincloth. Your hand.

The corner of your lip turns up into a small smirk, and you shake your head with an expression he knows all too well. You don’t believe him, and he’s not too sure he does either. “Isn’t that what you said last time, Nete?” You coo sweetly, fingers breaking past the hem of the sparse fabric around his waist.

His lips split to speak, quick to defend what he hopes he’ll stand firm on. And you take note of the way his chest stutters out an empty answer when you tug his tweng loose, as if access to his body was your birthright.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell.” You reassure him with promise. “It’ll be our little secret.”

His length springs out from its restraint, buoyantly slapping against his stomach from the force of your movements, making him jump in surprise. A smile overtakes your lips, and you respond by splaying your soft hands over his tensed thighs, tenderly rubbing the muscle there to calm his nerves. Even he was surprised with how hard he was.

You found his timidity adorable. A strikingly gorgeous man, deliciously tall in height with broad shoulders resembling that of an immovable wall. With a jaw so chiseled it could cut glass, not to mention an extensively muscular build and abs the Gods must have carved themselves. Who knew the son of Olo’eyktan, whom literally every girl in the clan sought after, was so inexperienced when it came to being pleasured by a woman?

You absolutely loved it. And you take pride in the fact that you’re the only one who’s been able to reduce the mighty warrior to mere putty in your hands.

But he can’t help it. Not when he’s silently pined after you for so long. Too nervous to court you or make a move, constantly hiding behind the excuse that his training would get in the way. Surely his responsibilities would leave him far too busy to even think of messing around with a girl.

Neteyam tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind, he really did. He’d never felt the urge to reciprocate any attention the other women in the clan would show him. Accepting their courting gifts only out of obligation for the clan’s customs— respectfully, of course.

So when that bubbly feeling would return every time he’d watch your hips sway as you pranced through the village, he’d push it down and tell himself it must have been something he ate, though he knew there was a never a change in diet.

And you saw right through his facade, if the long glances searing through your skull everyday at meal time were anything to go by. You’d caught him a few times, eyes flitting up to see his already on you. A grin and a small wave was all it took to have him blushing like a schoolboy, his head dropping down in an instant. He silently prayed his braids blocked the boyish beam that spread like fire on his expression. They didn’t.

“Calm down, pretty boy. Just relax, okay?” You peer up at him through dense lashes, having to stop yourself from giggling at how quickly he flinches as your small fingers curl around his attention-hungry erection. He’s a bundle of nerves and all you can think about is how much fun you’ll have unwinding him.

“Then stop looking at me like tha-that.” He stutters through gritted teeth. One hand used to prop himself up, he brings the backside of the other up to his mouth, in a fist. He has to resist the intense urge to bite it in an effort to quiet the obscene noise he almost makes when your tongue flicks out to lick the pre-cum off his tip. He’s violet in the face, blushing that of something fierce as you keep eye contact with him through fluid movements.

Gentle strokes to his cock threaten to crumble his composure, your wrist curling in a half-circular motion that drives him wild. You use your thumb to brush the underside of his most sensitive area and a broken moan fights its way passed pursed lips, rumbling his chest as he tries his hardest not to curl inward, away from your touch.

Hell, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your other hand has an iron-clad grip on his hip because you already know how fidgety he gets, and he feels way too damn good right now to tell you to stop.

You’re teasing him on purpose and he can tell. He’s only done this with you once before, yet you already know how to touch him, how fast to stroke him, how hard. He’s dumbfounded, and honestly a bit embarrassed at how reactive he is to your minuscule touches. You’ve barely gotten started. Why the hell doesn’t it feel like this when he does it himself?

He watches you with slightly widened eyes, and you can’t really tell if the look in them is one of astonishment at how quickly you can have him writhing, or fear due to how easily you can do so. Probably a mix of both.

After a few more kitten licks to the throbbing appendage, you can’t stand to hear his whining without feeling bad for him. Your wet lips spread around the head of his cock, cheeks hollowing out so the inside of your mouth drags against his skin.

Your mouth is so warm his eyes nearly roll back, he had no idea this would feel even better than the first time. His balls tense the second you close your mouth around him and you can tell he stopped himself from cumming right then and there.

His mind is sent into a haze instantly, and slowly you lower your head, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly can. He’s big, you can’t lie. Having him only a little over halfway into your mouth and you can already feel your eyes watering.

Your hand takes the rest of what you can’t, and it moves in sync with the bobbing of your head. He sighs and let’s his head dip back when you take his length into your throat, eyes pinching shut while his hands ball into tight fists at his sides— a method to keep himself in control, a futile one, at that.

His breathing is shallow but it only makes you pull your cheeks in harder, increasing the suction of your sucking as well as the speed. You’re determined to make a mess out of him, and neither of you had the mind to care if anyone heard the indecent squelching noises your wet mouth made along his dick.

He’s holding back, and you can tell. Neteyam has always been shy and reserved, even when he was younger he often stopped himself from having as much fun as his friends did. So it’s no shock that even now, while the two of you are alone, he’s still won’t let himself relax fully.

You pull off him with a audible pop, and his head instantly snaps back up at the sudden loss of contact. Spit pools in your mouth before it dribbles down your puckered lips and onto his swollen tip, and you smile up at him when he mewls for you to keep going.

Your gaze is sweltering. Your eyes have such a hold on him that he can’t help but stare right back at you, face flustered and all.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Neteyam?” The question comes with an almost taunting tilt of your head, but you continue to jerk him off nonetheless. Blinking up at him as if you’re unaware of how difficult it is for him to form words while he’s trying to focus on not covering your face in a sheet of white.

He gulps, nodding his head, and an impatient shift of his hips follows afterwards. “Yes, yes, I’m whatever you want me to be,” He forces out in one fast breath, his leg jerking slightly at the feeling of your fingers brushing lower near his base. “Please, just keep going.”

You hum, the sound of it indicating that you’re not convinced. You dip your head down, leisurely dragging the flat of your tongue against his balls in a derisively slow manner that has him groaning, and an open-mouthed kiss is set upon one of them before you’re stating your demand. “Then let me hear you.”

“Oh fuck,” He chokes out almost instantly at the new feeling, basically bucking his hips up into your hand at this point. You purr in approval and engulf his shaft back into your mouth, reveling in the throaty moans that waft from his trembling lips. They’re laced with need and music to your ears.

If your mouth wasn’t full of him, you would’ve gasped when he suddenly grabbed onto a handful of your hair with a firm hold. Actively surrendering to the fight against his own pleasure, he lets out a wanton moan and a string of curses as he thrusts his cock into your mouth. His movements urgent, no set pace as he chases the orgasm he can feel brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” He pants out in response to the sound of you gagging due to how deep he’s forcing his cock, though the increased force of his movements heavily contradict the genuine remorse in his voice. He’s so greedy with you, but plunging his length into the back of your throat feels too good for him to try and reason with himself.

You halt your movements and let him do the work, seeing as he’s enjoying himself so much. The sting of your scalp should probably concern you, but it only makes your thighs rub together and your core tingle with a newfound need that would later be quelled with his assistance.

“F-fuck baby, your throat feels so damn good,” He grunts, both of his hands cradling your head now as he uses your mouth to his satisfaction. One of your hands drop down to rub quick circles over your clothed pussy, anything to soothe the ache of your desperate walls fluttering.

The noises flowing so freely from the man above only rile you up more, and you’re eager to make him cum so he can hurry up and fuck you. You can’t help but moan around him, and the muffled vibration against his length is all that’s needed to send him over the edge.

There isn’t enough time to warn you before your mouth floods with a wave of white, and his chest heaves from his weighted breaths as he empties his hot seed directly down your throat. You swallow as fast as you can, struggling to keep up with the hot spurts that shoot out and coat your tongue. He’s never came this much before, that he’s sure of.

Your squeal of surprise is stifled when his hands push your head down as far as it can go, the tip of your nose ghosting the skin of his pelvis while his hips sputter out short, sporadic thrusts to ensure you take every drop of him. Blinded by his own surge of ecstasy, he quickly comes to when a choked cough forces its way from your chest, causing his own cum to leak out past your lips and down onto his balls.

“Sh-shit,” He huffs, hands immediately releasing their hold as he lets you come up for air, while he too is struggling to catch his breath. You gasp and reel back, lips swollen and coated with a mix of your saliva and his seed. He watches with a dazed look in his eyes when you clean them off with a quick swipe of your tongue, only for you to swoop down and languidly lick what you couldn’t swallow off his heated skin.

“Still a one time thing?” Your question is a whisper with a tone so sultry it makes him growl. And in a second he’s reaching down to grab your forearm, roughly yanking you up and into his lap to prove that it definitely isn’t, because answering with words simply wouldn’t have gotten the point across.

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