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holybibly · 4 months

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ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt.

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth.

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man.

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy.

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin. "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder.

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips.

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know. You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself.

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock.

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them.

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says. You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out. Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you. It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone.

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

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astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

big reputation part two | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

a new season dawns but that doesn't mean we don't have a map to our buried hatchets

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,221,783 others

charles_leclerc: ferrari has been home for as long as i can remember, even before i joined the academy, the dream of driving for ferrari gave me a purpose. i am heartbroken it hasn't worked out, but formula one is, at the end of the day, a selfish sport and i have to think about my real goal here: to win a championship. ferrari has an amazing history, but that is what it is history. in the four years i have been here i haven't seen the drive and ambition to be as ruthless and as complete as they were with michael and with kimi. therefore i have to leave. it hurts me to leave the tifosi, but know you're always in my heart and i will always hold dear your support. grazie regazzi essere ferrari ❤️

view all comments

user3: i knew it was coming but HOLY FUCK CHARLIE COME HOME

user4: tifosi lecfosi YES SIR

user5: for real i'm down for him not that clown team

yourusername: i'm proud of you charlie, i knew how much this took. but you have to put yourself first at some point. i love you

charles_leclerc: i love you too. i'm sorry i can't stop crying

yourusername: no i love that you are so passionate. it's been a long season and you're finally allowed to let it all out

charles_leclerc: can we go to a rage room?

yourusername: FUCK YEA

maxverstappen1: pretty please may i join. i have a lot of rage. call it teammate bonding?

charles_leclerc: give me a tow in bahrain quali?

maxverstappen1: fine (NO ONE SCREENSHOT THIS OR HOLD ME TO IT)

yourusername: at least this one i don't mind having to third wheel us

user6: the SHADE that's mother right there

user7: trying to stay insanely normal over the fact that max, charles and y/n are besties

pierregasly: congrats calmar, HOWEVER, i though i was your favourite third wheel 🥰

yourusername: but you bring kika ??? how can you third wheel if kika is there? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT?

charles_leclerc: thank you pear i love you brother

user8: i love how this is some super sentimental post and y/n is asking pierre if he can count i hope they never change

landonorris: max as fave third wheel ??? @alexalbon @georgerussll63 twitch quartet erasure

yourusername: womp womp

alexalbon: WOMP WOMP?

charles_leclerc: guys i'm sad about leaving my dream team where is the compassion?

georgerussell63: yeah boo hoo there are bigger things at play here I DID NOT SIT THROUGH YOUR TEN HOUR MELTDOWN ON AN APPROPRIATE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY GIFT NOT TO BE TOP THIRD WHEEL

yourusername: you fools really will argue about anything huh

landonorris: this is the sanctity of our friendship on the line here

user9: the grid was really like YOU might be sad about leave ferrari but we ain't

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,421,455 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: holibobs with sharlie

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user10: i love as soon as the season finishes charles becomes THEE instagram boyf

user11: j.peg account? no. just taking photos of y/n? YES.

charles_leclerc: i have an eye for beauty

yourusername: heheheheheheehehehehehee

alexalbon: so he can use a camera? why does he only take 0.5s of me?

yourusername: the best angle for your big ol dome

alexalbon: EXCUSE ME ?

yourusername: yeah sorry that was a bit far

alexalbon: it's like you got off the ferrari leash and now we all have to suffer

yourusername: WELP

charles_leclerc: ma belle, the only one i'll actually listen to and put sun cream on

yourusername: yes you will because we...

charles_leclerc: put spf on everyday !!

yourusername: yes! because...

charles_leclerc: we're scared of aging?

yourusername: no?

charles_leclerc: we want to be safe 👍

maxverstappen1: you guys done with the kindergarten reading lessons?

yourusername: have you seen lobster leclerc? this kind of work needed to be done

user12: lobster leclerc? goodbye, goodbye, goodbye you were bigger than the whole sky

user13: see now i'm confused cause why are some papers saying that they're breaking up? or that charles is embarrassed by the way y/n acts?

user14: bestie we've been through this DON'T TRUST THOSE HOES - TRUST THESE HOES

liked by yourusername

user15: unless i see it from the horse's mouth I WILL NEVER BELIEVE THEY'VE BROKEN UP

redbullracing

liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 882,339 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1

redbullracing: charles the qualifying king takes his first pole position for red bull in his first race and is joined by max for a front row lockout

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user18: UNWELL

user19: suck on that ferrari xoxo

user20: *rubs eyes* is that... max being happy to be challenged by a teammate ???

user21: winning three championships really takes the heat off huh

yourusername: THAT'S MY MAN YALL

charles_leclerc: love you baby

yourusername: love you too darling

maxverstappen1: love you three 🫶

yourusername: this is not the problem i thought we'd have when coming to red bull

maxverstappen1: my gf can't make most of the races so you WILL deal with me

user22: max being clingy to charles and y/n is so fucking funny to me

user23: sainz not making it out of q1? shwartzman only making it to q2 but still out qualifying carlos? charles looking sexy in blue? EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST CHARLES LECLERC SHALL FALL

christianhorner: mega job boys, let's keep our eyes on tomorrow

maxverstappen1: tell them they have to let me come to dinner with them

christianhorner: isn't this the exact reason we rehired daniel

charles_leclerc: PLEASE MAKE DANIEL COME TO THE NEXT RACE

maxverstappen1: erm rude

charles_leclerc: i'm sorry i'm not used to a teammate that actually wants to be friends for real

yourusername: EXCEPT SEB WE LOVE SEB

yourusername: but for real max emilian i am monitoring the dutch papers... be very careful

user24: healthy teammate relationships (for now) ??? is this what heaven is like

user25: are you telling me that if max doesn't get the lead in the first lap he might actually HELP charles .... a certain spanish individual could never

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,778,451 others

tagged: yourusername, maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: wow !! a 1 - 2 in our first race i couldn't be happier. this car is a dream to drive and i'm so grateful to red bull for being so welcoming. teamwork makes the dream work

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user26: tears in my eyes

user27: okay i understand both of them are like with their forever partners but lestappen is also real TWO THINGS CAN EXIST AT ONCE

yourusername: SHARLIE OMG YOU TALENTED, TALENTED KING

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername: crying sesh. sharlie's drivers room @ 8. bring your own alcohol and tissues

charles_leclerc: just to make sure everyone knows THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS

landonorris: SAP ALERT GET IT TOGETHER MAN

yourusername: i know lando no-wins ain't talking rn 🤨

charles_leclerc: you walked into that one buddy

landonorris: just because i'm friends with carlos doesn't mean you have to come after me like him ...

this comment has been deleted

yourusername: bold... real bold. you're lucky i'm doing meditation and yoga (and that i want to make a good impression on christian)

alexalbon: lando do NOT look at the text she just sent your your ego CANNOT take it

user28: no no no do spill... i need the ammo if he ever takes out my fave

user29: true i need it for the next time either of the ugly twins at ferrari open their gobs

oscarpiastri: it was brutal. they need to get y/n to host the reading challenge on drag race

yourusername: oscar knows drag race?

oscarpiastri: i might be an athlete but i'm not completely uncultured

maxverstappen1: if we're talking being cultured... GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST RED BULL PARTY

yourusername: born ready my university years singlehandedly financed your 'catering budget'

charles_leclerc: no really i think she's actually addicted to the tropical one

maxverstappen1: are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT WAS YOU WHO DRANK ALL OF THEM

yourusername: and what?

maxverstappen1: idk i'm still kinda scared of you

user30: the way charles deflected the questions about fred and sainz ? WE'RE FREEEEEEEEE

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,311,723 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i wanna be your end game <3

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user32: you guys better be end game or like you're paying for my therapy

user33: i respect her dedication to go to every race, make ferrari staff tremble in fear and pull LOOKS

charles_leclerc: i want to be your first string

yourusername: what if we just called taylor up?

charles_leclerc: you know here you call her i'm nervous

yourusername: @taylorswift paris night one, lover and this is me trying ft. charles on the piano?

taylorswift: sure thing

charles_leclerc: why was that so easy?

yourusername: better get practising baby

charles_leclerc: OH GOD

user34: how did we get red bull charles and a taylor collab in one year?

user35: i guess we used up charles' good luck from the last four years SORRY CHARLES

charles_leclerc: i guess you're forgiven...

maxverstappen1: so could you like tell me what you'd call me if i hypothetically fucked charles over... i'm not gonna but like i need to mentally prepare myself to hear it

yourusername: i have faith in you so i haven't thought that far ahead

maxverstappen1: can you please not be too mean i can't take it

charles_leclerc: you wanna come to therapy with me buddy?

maxverstappen1: i think i might

yourusername: when we entered the reputation era i did not think it would lead to taking max verstappen to therapy

maxverstappen1: and taylor swift?

yourusername: ... and taylor swift

user36: this is all very cute and all but can we have mean y/n back

user37: when will yall learn that reputation is a love album and y/n and charles are just loving each other freely

user38: but mean y/n did teach someone a lesson in not spreading false rumours cause them tabloids have been QUIET

f1tea

liked by user43, user44 and 7,233 others

f1tea: carlos sainz was caught liking these tweets about charles leclerc and y/n y/ln, what do you think?

view all comments

user45: put me in the ring with carlos i am being so serious

user46: okay for a while i was on the fence about y/n and how intense she was being but like seeing this shit and realising it was probably what was being said in the garage she needed to do more

user47: for real if someone said that about my boyfriend i'd be in prison

user48: so charles and y/n were under contract to not say a word out of line about ferrari or anything to do with ferrari and this guy is out here liking this

user49: call me a conspiracy theorist but this was his public account... he meant for people to find it and wants people to know this stuff

user50: this is why he DNFed in the first race KARMA

user51: maybe this is why he's always the one with relationship issues bro clearly has no loyalty

user52: charles has never said anything about him even now and y/n only said something in retaliation

user53: fuck peace and love y/n needs to give this man hell

user54: read him for filth

user55: bro needs to keep his twitter fingers to himself and focus on not being in the wall ❤️

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 2,311,885 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: this is why we can't have nice things, darling

view all comments

user56: this is the most response we'll ever get from charles i fear

user57: allow me to elaborate: this is why we can't have nice things by taylor swift is about 'forgiving' the people who wronged you but she literally says "and here's to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do... i can't even say it with a straight face" so basically charles doesn't forgive carlos or fred. and it specifically shouts out her family and friends and lover for sticking with her which is what charles' family, friends and y/n have done

liked by charles_leclerc

user58: thank you for service

yourusername: i'm reading what they call you lately (it says you're a race winner and a title contender)

charles_leclerc: got a taste of the celebrations and can't get enough

maxverstappen1: KEEP IT PG THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE

charles_leclerc: you're older than me

yourusername: all we said were celebrations, if anything you have the dirty mind 🤨

maxverstappen1: i am usually in the room next to you, i hope this helps

charles_leclerc: our bad <3

maxverstappen1: you don't care do you?

yourusername: not really no. when we get to the same amount of wins as you maybe it'll wear off

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

user58: is this an entertaining title fight but without the bad blood?

user59: and nowhere near ferrari? bless

alexalbon: i hate that i understand all these references

yourusername: lily trained you well

lilymunhe: like a drill sergeant

yourusername: as you should

sebastianvettel: proud of you charlie, i'm glad you're not wasting your talent

charles_leclerc: i love you seb, i'm sorry it took so long

sebastianvettel: make sure you win here, we can be ferrari failures together

yourusername: *ferrari failed you

sebastianvettel: i knew there was a reason i liked you

fin.

note: SOZ. so like i am still working on requests but that radio message FUCKED ME UP. so this had to happen. glad my queen girls (max and charles) did well today, hope you enjoyed !!!

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc social media au

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skbeaumont · 27 days

Text

"Make Me Wanna" | Jackson!Joel x Reader oneshot

Song: Make Me Wanna - Thomas Rhett Summary: Joel fucks you in the back of a truck. That's literally it. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, porn with a smattering of plot, smut, PIV, dirty talk, pets names (baby, darling), kind of dom!Joel, established relationship, Jackson era Word Count: 3.2k A/N: As always, the lyrics have been worked into the story, so if you can listen please do!

There are two working vehicles in Jackson. The school bus – a large van that serves as transport for the kids in the winter, when the paths freeze over and the snow falls too thick to walk through – and a ’75 Chevy Cheyenne. It’s the keys to this that Tommy hands Joel one early morning, the dry Wyoming summer heat already pushing the mercury up into the eighties.

The rest of the town are still asleep, but you, Joel, and Tommy are outside in the square, your conversation chorused by the call of the town’s raggedy old rooster. Joel’s having trouble concentrating on his brother’s instructions, his eyes flicking like the hands on a clock to the way the dress you pulled on this morning clings to your ass and hips, the thin cotton leaving very little to his imagination.

He’s sure you’ve done it on purpose; there can be no other reason to wear such an impractical outfit when you’re heading out beyond the wall. Sure, it’s an easy run – up to the dam, check everything’s in order, head back – but Joel’s not sure how he’s even going to make it there with you in that ridiculous damn dress, curves calling out to him. It makes him wanna-

“Joel, are even you listening?” Tommy’s voice cuts through his reverie, has him shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it of flies.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What was the last thing I just said?”

“Uh,”

Tommy rolls his eyes and Joel looks at you for help, but you just smile at him innocently with dimples in your cheeks, batting your eyelashes like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Jesus Joel, can’t you concentrate for two minutes?”

Tommy relaunches into his lecture about the dam and the route, and Joel tries to pay attention to the words, tries to ignore the way you’re gliding a single finger across the small of his back, hand dipping under his shirt to reach the hot skin there. It’s such an innocent gesture, the pad of your finger caressing him gently, without urgency, but it sends electricity coiling up his spine.

For your part, it’s all you can do not to jump him here and now. Tommy’s early morning wakeup call disturbed what was shaping up to be a very pleasant morning in bed with Joel, and there’s an insistent warmth in your belly at the memory of his rough stubble on the back of your neck as you lay together in bed not an hour ago. You’re wondering how far you can push him, how riled up he’ll have to be before he sacks in this run and takes you back to bed.

Finally convinced that Joel’s taken on board at least some of what he’s said, or perhaps fed up of trying to talk to him while he’s clearly so distracted, Tommy leads you both to an old barn where the vehicles are kept. The chevvy is a faded, sun-bleached red: a worn leather front bench up front, large enough for three or four people to sit in a line, with an open bed in the back. You climb into the cab next to Joel, shuffle yourself over so that you’re almost in his lap where he sits at the wheel.

“Wanna explain what this is about?” He asks as he starts the engine, gesturing to the dress with his free hand.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, and you can hear him rolling his eyes, hear the tight, whispered Jesus Christ as he shifts the truck into gear.

It’s a slow drive through Jackson; the narrow streets aren’t built for vehicles. Joel steers the truck around the chicken coops and picnic benches, taking you to the front of town where the gates are. Here, the watchers on the duty lever open the corrugated metal wall that separates Jackson from the wilderness outside, and Joel guides the truck through.

You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time outside the walls since your arrived in Jackson some four months ago, but even so, you find it hard to take in the countryside and wide, rolling hills with Joel sat next to you, his warm hand on your thigh. You trace patterns across the back of his hand, follow the lines of old scars and new scratches, let your fingertips trail higher, up to his bare wrist, over the prominent veins that sit just beneath his tan skin.

“I know what you’re doin’” He says, voice dark as he squeezes your thigh in his grip, a warning you’re bound to ignore.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You repeat, letting go of his wrist to lean across in your seat, reaching for the glove box. You pull it open.

“Aha!” A cassette tape falls out into your hand, writing blurred with age but still legible. “County Sound FM.”

You slide it into the old cassette player set in the dash, hold your breath as it cracks and pops and then starts playing.

“Is this…” Joel turns his head slightly, angling so that the gentle rhythm and rolling melody can reach his good ear. “R.E.M.?”

“Man on the Moon,” You confirm, looking at the track listing on the cassette.

“Jesus.” He says, shaking his head.

He takes a right at the end of the main track up to Jackson, down a dirt road that’s overhung with dense trees. You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with grey. His jaw is set, but he’s nodding along with the music. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

“You gotta stop looking at me that way, baby,” He says, shifting the fabric of your dress so that he can drag his hand further up your leg, the heat of his palm almost feverish against you.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher still and then turn into him, press you lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans where he’s already half hard.

“You know there’s only so much I can take,” His voice is gruff against the lightness of the country song. “You make me wanna…”

He trails off and you huff a laugh against his collarbone, move your mouth to his ear so that you can say, “make you wanna what, Joel?” into it.

“Pull this truck to the side of the road, for a start.” He says, turning his head to look at you.

His eyes are dark, expression serious, a frown creasing his brow. The hand he’s got on the steering wheel is gripping it tight, knuckles white against the dark leather of the grip. You can see the tension in his shoulders, his thighs when he shifts as you run the flat of your hand against his cock.

“If you don’t stop,” He says, voice catching in his throat, “I’m gonna- fuck, darlin’, Jesus Christ.”

He breaks off as you slip your hand suddenly under the waistband of his jeans, wrist barely squeezing between the buckle of his belt and his stomach. His cock jerks against your hand, smearing precum across your knuckles as you fight against the tight denim. “Gonna what?” You ask again, wrapping your fist around his cock, letting your thumb run over the silky tip of him. “Pull the truck over? Go on then.”

The truck veers to one side, brakes squealing out as Joel brings it to a stop at the side of the road, tree branches scratching against the windows.

“Slide on over, then,” He says, turning into you, leaning back and opening his legs so that you can climb into his lap.

His gaze is hot and hard and animalistic as you settle against him. You reach between your heaving chests to paw at the button to his jeans but he grabs your wrists, grins at you, eyes glinting.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” He says, wrapping two solid arms around and pulling you flush to his chest, mouth resting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking.”

He buries his mouth at your throat, licks and sucks and nips at the tender flesh there, kneads your ass with his hands.

“I think you’re an impatient little thing who needs to learn some manners,” He says, his voice thick, “and I think I’m gonna take you to the back of this track and fuck you on the tailgate. How does that sound?”

He barely gives you a chance to answer, just tucks your dress out of the way so that he can reach down between your ass cheeks to the wet line of your panties, following the crotch round over your cunt to the hard nub of your clit, already swollen and throbbing under his ministrations.

“Joel, please,” You whine, as he teases you with two of his fingers, circling your entrance but not breaching it.

“You know better than to wear that dress, baby,” he says into your throat, “Oughta be against the law,”

He pulls back, fists a hand in your hair and drags your mouth to his. The kiss is heated and ferocious from the start; Joel pulls your lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, draws out your keening moans with a clever flick of his tongue.

“I need you, Joel, please,” You say, trying again to undo the button on his jeans.

“Ain’t room in here,” He says, reaching over the pop open his door, “in the back, like I said. C’mon.”

You follow him out and round to the back of the truck. He lets the tailgate fall with a soft clunk, takes his jacket off and spreads it out on the dusty metal of the truck bed.

“Hop on up,” He says, shooting you a grin that’s laced with mirth and heat, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

You do as he says, sitting up on the open tailgate. He steps between your thighs, presses them open with two large hands so that he can fit there. Running one hand up your chest to your breast, he presses his clothed cock against the wet line of your panties, circles his hips so that the rough denim catches against your clit and makes you moan.

When he pulls back he takes your panties off, dragging them down your legs with two fingers before pushing them into the pocket of his jeans. It makes your stomach clench, the sight of them peeking out, the pink lace a stark contrast to the worn dark denim, marking you as his. With them out of the way, Joel wastes no time in pressing two fingers into your soaking cunt, grinning down at you as you yelp at the sudden intrusion. It turns into a whimper as he bends them just so, the calloused pads of his fingertips searching out that tender spot inside that has you curling your toes and clawing at his shoulders.

“There she is,” He says, chuckling darkly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit and applying a steady, gentle pressure.

It’s intoxicating – the firm pressure of his fingers inside you, the sure, confident thrum of his thumb over your clit. It’s like being drunk on no alcohol, just Joel, his breathy sighs and warm scent enveloping you, wrapping you up in a haze of heady desire.

“Gonna come for me, darlin’?” He asks as he feels you start to tense around him.

He trails his free hand along the side of your jaw, drawing your face back to his so that he can kiss you again, swallow down your moans as you jolt and shake against him, the orgasm rising up suddenly in your belly, sending spikes of ecstasy through your quivering cunt.

“Good girl,” He whispers, drawing his fingers out.

He pulls them up to his mouth, places his fingertips against his lush bottom lip and slides his tongue over them, groaning at the taste of you.

“You wear this dress jus’ for me, baby?” He asks, fisting the fabric between his knuckles as he unbuckles his belt, “Know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”

You nod, watching him pull his cock out of the confines of his jeans. He drags the swollen, weeping head against your folds, drawing air in through his teeth as he does, hissing the breath back out.

“Good girl,” He keens, using the fist that’s clutching your dress to drag you forward in the truck bed so that he can line himself up. “Feel how hard I am for you, hmm, baby? Get me so goddamn worked up I can’t think straight.”

He presses the thick length of himself against you, covering his shaft with your slick. He pulls back slightly, places the fat head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, curses through his teeth as he inches inside, a drawn out, breathy “fuck, baby”, that has desire coiling up your spine. A muscle jumps in his jaw as you watch his face, watch his eyebrows pull up as he sinks into you, the slight tilt to his mouth, a steady slow breath pouring out of him with the effort of not slamming into you in one hard thrust.

“Okay?” He asks, holding himself still when he bottoms out, waiting for your confirmation that he can keep going.

“Move, Joel, please, God.”

A chuckle echoes deep in his chest at this, and then he wraps his arms under your thighs, pulls you firmly into him and drags himself out before slamming back inside. He sets a punishing pace. It’s all you can do to grip onto his shoulders, dig your fingernails into the firm muscles of his back and let him fuck you, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. You watch the beads of perspiration rise on his forehead and cheeks, trace them as they roll down his face to his neck, the tendons there straining as he continues to pound into you. He’s quiet, mostly, grunting and cursing in a rasping voice, fuck, that’s it and Jesus Christ, baby.

“Got the softest pussy I’ve ever felt, darlin’.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your forehead, the side of your neck, groaning as he drags his teeth against your jaw, “gripping me so fucking tight.”

A familiar heat is coiling up inside you again, making your stomach clench and your toes curl in the boots you’re still wearing. Joel knows, can tell by the way you squeeze your eyes tight shut, hands gripping his forearms where they hold your thighs up. He changes the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, spikes of pleasure sparking in your cunt right through to the tips of your fingers. You come around his cock, fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his arms, no doubt leaving indents that will mark him as yours when you return to town later.

“That’s it, baby, comin’ all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl.” He presses his lips to yours, licks his tongue into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip, pain blossoming into pleasure.

He slows his thrusts as you come down from your high, dragging his cock against the roof of your cunt and running a hand up your side, over the curve of your hips up to your breast. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, soothes your moans with his mouth on yours, swallowing them as they fall from your lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” He says, picking up the pace again, snapping his hips to yours, fisting his hand into your hair. “Can you give me one more? One more and I’ll come in this perfect cunt, hmm?”

He reaches between your writhing bodies, presses his fingers to the bundle of nerves above where he’s thrusting into you and draws circles over your clit. The pressure is firm and fucking perfect, Joel’s fingers confident and sure in what they’re doing. He knows your body like the back of his hand, has spent hours learning how to make you come. It only takes a few minutes before you feel yourself tightening around his cock again, eyes squeezing shut, but this time he lets go of your thigh with his free hand and grabs your chin.

“Eyes open, baby, I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

And you do, locking your eyes onto his. His pupils are blown wide, eating into the chocolate brown of his irises. His brow is furrowed with the effort of fucking you, making the lines that paint his face stand out. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down one cheek, and he bites his lip between his teeth as you come, cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, good girl” He keeps circling his fingers as you come, drawing out your orgasm, his voice vibrating in your chest. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come. Shit.”

He groans, holding himself still as he spurts inside you, ropes of come painting your cunt as you contract around him. You’re both breathless then, panting and holding each other, your fingers pinching his skin, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You say, suddenly laughing as you realise how reckless you’ve been, out here in the middle of nowhere, Joel’s gun long since forgotten on the back seat of the truck.

“Well, you know better than to wear that dress,” Joel says, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the side of your neck. “You make me wanna…”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #jackson!joel #tlouJackson #SoundCloud

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missroki · 5 months

Text

SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’┊for weeks you’ve tried (and failed) to tell your boyfriend that you love him for the first time. as fate would have it, your annual summer camping trip is coming up and your friends desperately want to meet him. a serene lake side might be the setting you need to finally tell him how you feel.

content: sickeningly sweet fluff, smut, not canon leaning, female! reader x geto suguru, established relationship, reader is hinted to have sexual trauma, skinny dipping, intimate conversations regarding romance, piv sex, no power dynamics really, reader is called baby and sweetheart, all lowercase. word count: 4.3k

it’s late afternoon by the time you arrive, the last of the group to make it if you were to guess. the sunlight streams through steadily growing trees, leaves growing denser with thick, sturdy trunks. the closer you get to the campsite the less busy the roads become; winding and bending as you make your way to the lake side.

the ac in your 2003 subaru is no match for the early summer heat and even with all the windows down, it still leaves a layer of sweat on your skin; your tank top sticking to your back. when you feel a palm squeezing your thigh, you glance over at your boyfriend on the other side of the car. suguru has an easy smile on his face, eyes focused on the road. his other hand grips the steering wheel and keeps it steady.

"you’re quiet,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me the heat’s already gotten to you.” he has to raise his voice a bit, the wind and gentle radio in the background drowning him out.

"it might have," you tease, “or maybe i just don’t have anything to say. it’s beautiful here and i haven’t been back in a long time.” you reach over to palm the skin of his neck, feeling the way his hair sticks to it. you tuck suguru’s bangs into his top knot and he hums in appreciation.

there’s a gentle shake and you feel the car sputter along with the smell of oil burning as it wafts through the front seats. normal for your shitty little compact suv, but still troubling. your boyfriend distracts you with a soft laugh. “what’s so funny?” you ask, a teasing lift in your voice.

“nothing, nothing,” he replies, “it’s just that i’ve heard so much about this lake that i want to see it already. if only we hadn’t taken that detour…”

you let out a huff and pout beside him. “in my defense, i wasn’t aware that my navigation skills had gotten so rusty. i was a girl scout for seven years, you know.”

“oh trust me, sweetheart, i know. it’s the one hobby you never shut up about–“

you reach over to playfully slap at his chest, feeling the rumble of his laugh beneath your palm. he lifts the hand that was previously on your thigh to grip yours instead, tugging it into his lap in protest. “no hitting when i’m driving. when we get to the lake you can commit any and all domestic violence there.”

his thumb starts to caress your skin, placating you for now. “fine, but i get the first s’more! satoru always adds syrup and drizzles it on top and it tastes heavenly.”

“you’re both sick.”

“and you are a buzzkill. nothing wrong with a little extra artificial sweetner.”

“if i remember correctly it was two cavities last dentist visit, right– don’t pull away.” you try to anyway but his grip is strong, a smile on his face that tells you he’s purposely pushing your buttons.

“easy now, sweetheart. wouldn’t want me to crash into the sunset when we’re almost there.” he lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it. you try to ignore the way your heart beats against your chest. the words are right there on your tongue, waiting to be let out. i love you. i’m so happy you’re with me.

they don’t come, though, and you lean deeper into the passenger seat. “you’re lucky we’re dating. i would have left you on the side of the road miles ago.”

“and lose your passenger princess title? i doubt it.”

you shrug your shoulders, staring off into the forest as it encases your small car. if you looked close enough, hints of blue water would tease your vision. “i would have managed. a warm fire, pretty stars. i think you and the gas station attendant would have had a great time.”

“surely he wouldn’t have minded a large asian man soliciting on the property.”

“nah,” you smile, voice light, “of course not.”

a comfortable silence fills the car. the outside wilderness is vast, a large area of overgrown grass, leaves and roots. as you traverse deeper into the area you’re suddenly surrounded by the thick opening of the forest that breaks off and slopes down to where the lake rests. typically, a campfire would already be made in the center, circling the space with a large amalgamation of rocks; ashes littering the ground and causing the soil to dry up under your feet.

the absence of the others confuses you, throwing a glance at suguru at the same time he does you. where is everyone?

he pulls into the area that normally would be littered with tents and sleeping bags but you’re too confused to make him privy to this information.

you quickly shift your gaze throughout the campsite, looking for tufts of bright white hair or even a hint of styled blonde. the only sound you hear is from small critters and the gentle rush of water from a nearby stream. you don’t hear shoko’s laughter or nanami’s stern reprimanding. it’s silent. peaceful, but silent.

your boyfriend comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in an effort to calm your obviously racing mind. “they must be running late, too.” he reasons. “why don’t we set up and get the fire going, yeah?”

you nod, turning around to face him. his hair is now pulled up completely in a loose bun, tendrils tickling his cheeks from where they refuse to stay put. you fight the urge to tuck them away. “can we try calling them?”

he shakes his head, lifting up his phone to show the lack of cell service. “one step ahead of you.”

you sigh but ultimately nod, cracking your knuckles and shaking out your still tired legs. the drive had been a long one.

“alright then,” you breathe, “let’s get started.”

of course they got pulled over.

all that time spent paying off his parking tickets and gojo satoru has already gotten his license revoked again. you groan into the receiver, suguru holding the phone to your ear as you finish placing down the extra bags from the back seat of your car. you grab the phone with a mouthed ‘thank you’ and make your way to the pier once more.

after a few hours of no signal. you had managed to get a bar or two near the old wooden pier, tiny and definitely dangerous if not for the pillars holding it in place. you hear nanami sigh on the other line and you can practically hear the way he pinches his nose bridge.

“this is my fault, i shouldn’t have trusted him to make it all the way here. shoko started playing ice spice and apparently satoru decided it was time to ‘shake ass’ as he called it and–“

“you shook ass too, nanamin!” satoru yells in the muffled background.

“not the point, satoru!”

you bend down briefly to toss a pebble across the deep blue water, trying your best to stay angry but coming up with merely surface level disappointment. you let out a sigh, feeling familiar hands gripping your waist and pulling you into a strong front. suguru nuzzles into your neck, placing a warm kiss to your salty skin. innocent, gentle.

“when will you guys be getting here?” you ask, trying to ignore the way two thumbs rub into the soft flesh at your waist.

“hopefully by tomorrow. they let us off with a warning but since none of us are on satoru’s insurance they’re being difficult. tell suguru we’re sorry for the inconvenience. we really wanted to meet him.”

the man in question bites down gently into your neck, a sharp breath involuntarily leaving your mouth. “o-oh,” you swat at him half heartedly, “i’m sure he’s fine.”

“seriously, let him know we’ll be there bright and early. we can even bring those canned sausages you like so much…”

nanami’s voice drifts further and further away as your hand slowly falls from your ear. you turn your head to meet suguru’s waiting lips, gently pecking as his hot tongue teases at the seam of your mouth. you pull back with a whine. “baby, i’m on the phone.”

“hang up.” he goes back to sucking and kissing down the expanse of your neck, the skin exposed in the tank top you’re wearing. you quickly lift the phone to your ear.

“–and realistically if we take the short cut we will be there much faster, but who knows if traffic will hit since it’ll be a sunday–“

“n-no worries, see you then!”

you hang up and toss the device onto the deck, the screen reflecting against the lake as it catches the sunlight; shimmery gold underneath deep oranges and reds.

you turn around and lift suguru’s chin so that his lips once again meet yours. his hands move to squeeze your ass over your jean shorts in large handfuls. “you look so pretty,” he murmurs, “it’s hard keeping my hands off you when i can see the outline of your nipples in that shirt.” his right hand is sandwiched etween you two, easily popping open the metal button of your shorts and unzipping them.

you let out a gasp once you realize that his hand is traveling lower, reaching down to grab his wrist. “fuck, sugu, wait. i’m all sweaty.”

he hums in your mouth, biting down on your lip. “you know that doesn’t bother me. just spread your legs, sweetheart.”

you feel heat rising in your neck and face. “b-but that bothers me and i don’t– fuck–” suddenly it feels a little harder to breathe, your heart pumping faster from not arousal but fear. you probably seemed so childish. he’d touched you there plenty of times before and you didn’t want to disappoint him but—

“shh, no baby, it’s okay.” he goes to remove his hand, your wrist still firmly holding his. “we can stop… we can stop.”

you slowly release your hold on him, watching as suguru cautiously fixes your clothes where he previously displaced them. “i’m sorry,” you murmur, “i’m just stressed and–“

suguru pulls you close, letting your forehead rest in his neck. you immediately wrap your arms around him. he is warmth and security, love and adoration. you know that he knows you aren’t afraid of him, but someone from long ago, a dark stain in your otherwise clear memory.

“hey,” he says, his face breathing in the soft coconut scent of your hair. suguru wonders if you know that everytime you embrace him it feels like the first. “wanna make me one of those famous s’mores?”

“really?” you ask, eyes shiny with unshed tears. when one falls, his thumb lifts up to catch it. to catch you.

“yeah.” he murmurs. “really.”

after a round of sickenly sweet s’mores made by yours truly (with less syrup to show suguru some hint of mercy) and a cuddle by the fire — you decide to turn in for the night — leaving your boyfriend to his own devices as he stares up into the night sky.

you can tell that not a lot of time has passed because the fire pit still emits warmth when you step out of your tent and slip on your flip flops. you lift your arms up into the sky and expose your midriff with a yawn.

one glance around the campsite and you don’t see a familiar head of dark hair anywhere, even squinting into the tree line to see if he’d decided to go off on his own and do god knows what.

you aren’t worried per say, just missing him like any normal girlfriend would be. you wanted to cuddle into his chest and feel his strong arms wrap around you again.

the pier is illuminated by an automatic light that’s yellowed with age. you move a little closer and see a heap of something left on the very edge of it. as you make your way to it, avoiding loose branches and leaves, you realize that it’s a familiar white t-shirt and black sweatpants. it’s only then that you hear the gentle sound of water breaking a few feet away.

suguru rises up with a sigh, back turned towards you. his hands reach up to push back strands of dark hair that you assume were clinging to his face. even under the dim moonlight and turned away from you, he’s alarmingly beautiful.

he wades backwards, letting his body float as he rests on his back. you can see the way his nipples pebble under the chilled night air, the strong muscles in his core keeping him afloat, the outline of his soft cock between his thighs. his hair creates a dark halo as it moves freely around his head. if suguru’s aware of your presence, he doesn’t show it.

you take in a sharp breath at the view in front of you. you’ve seen suguru naked plenty of times before but his stark nakedness still catches you off guard.

you’d only skinny dipped once before, and you immediately left the water once you realized it was freezing. making up your mind before you can back out, you start to remove the layers of clothing on your body. your tank top and shorts, then your panties.

when you ease yourself into the water, you don’t cause much of a ripple. it’s weirdly warm as it encases your body, or it might just be that the air challenges it.

you make your way to suguru and stop once you reach his head. your touch is gentle against his cheeks and your suspicions of him knowing you were there are confirmed when he doesn’t even flinch.

“miss me?” he asks smugly, pools of brown staring up at you. you let your thumbs caress his cheeks, lean down to press your forehead to his.

“hardly.”

suguru moves then, lifting himself up and turning around. even in the semi-shallow waters he towers over you.

his hands find purchasa on your waist and your arms wrap around his neck. he pulls you in close so that your face rests there too. suguru travels down your body to grip your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his tapered waist.

for a while, you let yourself melt against him, the water gently swaying you both closer to the pier. you think about the way his heart beats against yours, how gentle but secure his grip on your thighs are. geto suguru was everything you wanted in a man; smart, understanding, beautiful, kind. so suffocatingly kind. you imagine a world when his light does not shine as bright and a sour taste enters your mouth.

as if sensing your shift in attitude, suguru turns his head and gently kisses your temple. thin drops of water fall from the tip of his nose and down your cheek. he lifts you up a little to prevent your hair from getting wet. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“nothing,” you breathe, “i’m just… thinking.”

he hums, his hands moving up to cup just underneath your bottom. he angles you back a little to make eye contact. you look up at him with what you imagine are heart eyes and your fingers link at the nape of his neck.

“uh oh.” he briefly teases, “penny for your thoughts?”

you shrug a little. “i just…” you pause, the words bubbling in your throat. you try to push past the anxiety that creeps up in your chest. you’d been dating for a few months now, there was nothing wrong with feeling the way you did. you just— “…don’t want to scare you away.”

he considers this for a moment, and places another kiss on the tip of your nose. “if your coma-inducing syrup s’mores didn’t do the trick then i doubt anything else could.”

“you haven’t had one of my root beer floats yet.”

“ah, is that the killing blow?”

“it’s more a sampler, if you will.”

he smiles and brushes his nose against yours. “then i’m more than happy to die at your hands.”

you giggle, and move one of your hands to rest on his chest. “careful, geto suguru, people might think you love me with those words.”

you regret your own as soon as you say them, your gaze flickering down to the hand still on his chest. you try your best to recover. “n-not that i’m saying that–“

“i love you?” he offers.

god, it sounds worse when he put it out there. “right! i would never just assume–“

“what if i did?”

“what?”

he brings a hand to your chin, making you look into his eyes. there’s an intensity there that you only saw back home, when he’d visit your apartment and spend the night between your legs. he asks again, “love you. what if i did?”

you’re certain he feels the way you shiver against him, breaths just barely fluttering from you lips. you swallow nothing as your mouse dries. “w-well, i–“ you pause, trying your best to not shy away from your own emotions. “i would…” you trail off but you’re unable to spiral fully because he’s right there, like he always is, ready to catch you.

“it’s okay,” he breathes out your name like it’s a prayer, “you can tell me.”

you smile warily. your voice is quiet, barely a whisper and heavy with the tears you feel building behind your eyes. “i’m scared.” not of him, but of the weight behind the three worded confession. he nods, understanding as his hand cups your cheek.

“i know you are, sweet girl. i am, too. but… i know what i feel for you. i know that i love you.”

you can feel his heartbeat quicken under your palm at his admission. you can’t help but feel relieved, your lips just barely an inch away from one another. i love you, you think. i love you, i love you—

“i love you.”

an overwhelming warmth lights up in your chest, your anxiety melting away. your heart pounds and your mind fills with techno-color. it wakes up your nerves in a fizzling, vivid array of sparks.

suguru’s hot, yielding mouth is familiar as it melds to your own, pulling you closer as your hands instinctively tangle in his hair. it’s dried enough that it curves for you easily, your grip firm as you tug at it. he groans and you almost tug harder to hear it again.

you’re only teasing, not trying to start anything particularly heated, but then you shift in his arms and feel the gentle twitch of his hard cock against your mound, breaking away from the kiss when he moans involuntarily. you see the red that trickles up his cheeks.

“shit,” he pants, “fuck, i’m sorry. ‘m a little overwhelmed. we can stop–“

“i don’t want to,” you breathe, “please… don’t let me go.”

you feel him press against you gently, hips moving on their own so that you know he craves you even unconsciously. wanting. “never,” he promises. “i won’t let you go.”

he’s back to kissing you, tongue infiltrating your mouth in a sloppy mess. it’s all tongue and lips but you let him lead you, guide you to where you meet in the middle.

“w-we probably–” your voice catches as his lip attack the base of your throat, “we probably shouldn’t fuck in here.”

you feel your boyfriend’s laugh before you hear it and quicker than you can blink, he’s lifting you out of the water, up the shore of the lake to bypass the pier. you thank whatever deity that your friends are miles away from this place.

when you feel your back laid against a plush sleeping bag, you open your eyes to suguru hovering over you. he drags his hands down the planes of your plush stomach, back up again to the soft mounds of your breasts. you whine at the feeling of him tweaking your sensitive nipples. “you’re perfect, you know that?” he leans down and finishes what he started hours earlier, littering your neck in dark splotches. you pull him closer so that his shaft drags between your folds, collecting your arousal to bump against your clit. it drips between your thighs. “absolutely perfect for me.”

you feel his fingers glide down your stomach once more before reaching your hot entrance, making skilled strokes against your clit that have you spasming underneath him. “fuck.” you whimper, hearing the wet slaps of his fingertips smearing against your cunt. you barely register the way suguru licks a stripe up your neck and wraps his tongue around your ear. how he nibbles at the sensitive lobe.

“you love me, baby?” he breathes, “want me to make you feel good?”

you nod hurriedly, gripping his shoulders. “i need you, sugu, want you to make me cum.”

he moves his fingers faster, knowing just how to rub you to make you fall over the edge. “go ahead and let go, sweet girl. get yourself ready for me.”

it doesn’t take long for you to cum, your hole tightening and clenching around nothing as he helps your ride out the high with a deep kiss. he watches you closely to make sure you don’t crash, pressing kisses to your cheeks and eyelids as you tense up underneath him. “let me know if it’s too much, we can stop if you need me to.”

you shake your head, the euphoria you feel dispelling the shadows that sometimes linger in the back of your mind. “n-no i’m okay… i’m okay now.”

he nods, lining up his hard length to your entrance as you wrap your legs around his waist. suguru pushes into you gently, letting you get used to the stretch. you both moan in unison, his body hot and imposing on top of you as he tries his best to keep his composure. it’s suguru, you remind yourself. you want him. you love him.

you try to relax your muscles like your therapist told you, pulling your boyfriend closer until he is fully sheathed with a guttural moan. “h-holy shit,” he stutters, trying his damndest not to cum on the spot. you bury your hands into the hair that curtains you both.

“make love to me, sugu.” you whisper into the night, your words heard only by your lover and the fireflies. “please.”

“i will, baby.” he pulls you even closer if that’s possible. “i will.”

he thrusts in and out of you at a slow but hard pace, your gasps and whimpers egging him on as he pushes you deeper into the sleeping bag. your cunt sucks him in so eagerly that he can barely see straight, moving to grab your hands from his shoulders to loosely intertwine your fingers. his grip has just enough give that you could remove them if you wanted to. he was always aware of you, of your limits.

“you like it, don’t you?” he teases. “how full of you i get when my cock is buried in this perfect pussy?”

you preen underneath him at the praise, eyes filling with tears. you try to speak but the words are garbled. what sounds like a yes falls from your lips.

“yeah, you do. it’s why you always show me off, bringing me here to meet your friends. you want them to know i’m yours.”

your hips buck up into his and suguru increases his pace, your breasts jiggling with each powerful thrust. he grunts with each tight muscle that clamps down on him as he plows into you — your sweet nectar matting the trimmed hair at his base.

“well i’m yours, baby. have been s-since the first day i met you– oh fuck!”

your hands squeeze his, looking up at him with blurry vision. he is just as beautiful as he has always been, you are weakened by it. you purposefully squeeze down hard on his cock, choked gasp leaving both of your mouths as he finds your g-spot.

“i love you, suguru. i love you.”

he practically pins you under him, arms wrapping your shoulders and back as he nuzzles into the side of your neck. “again,” he begs, “tell me again.”

you let out an almost delirious laugh. “i love you — fuck —! I l-love you.”

you feel a familiar pressure build in your stomach, hands clawing at the soft skin of his back and the muscles beneath it. you don’t have much warning to give, and neither does he, your orgasm coming suddenly as his hips sloppily knock into yours until—

you both let go, hot spurts of his cum coating your walls as he moans and whimpers. suguru takes a deep inhale of your scent, the familiar coconut causing another pump of his release to spill inside you.

“holy shit.” he breathes, lifting himself up to look you in the eyes. he takes in the fucked out expression on your face, the pure euphoria in your features. he leans in to steal your breath away with a kiss, gentle and languid. he whispers your name into your mouth. “I love you,” he parrots, “I’ve always loved you.”

the next morning, when your friends arrive and you get ready for a day of hiking, they don’t fail to notice the way you two are attached at the hip. you’re engay in the conversation, sure, but you’re also laughing to yourselves as if you knew a secret that they didn’t.

you think you’re hiding it well but the discoloration on your neck is a dead giveaway. they aren’t angry, though, never having seen you so happy and in love.

it’s what you deserve and you know better than anyone that suguru is willing to give it all to you. you just hope he continues to hold you gently. that if you break he is willing to pick up the pieces. that your moments of fragility don’t scare him away.

you’re afraid and worried about the future. but suguru tells you that love is an active choice, a choice that led him to you. that love is a beautiful kind of fear and he will take the leap as many times as you need him to.

you don’t have to tell him that you’re already prepared to fall.

note: this is my favorite story i’ve ever written. it’s been very healing for me to revisit it and post it here on this new blog. if it resonates with you in anyway, know that i’m holding your hand and hoping that your road to healing gets easier over time. it isn’t your fault and you’re worthy of love. always and forever.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x female reader #geto x black reader #geto smut #geto fluff #suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #angelshubnetwork

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f0point5 · 3 months

Note

I know we have a different Y/N now but I saw those pictures of max playing padel and I just kept thinking about Max’s Y/N watching 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i miss them

SAME. Ngl I saw the pictures and this just came to me so… I hope this satisfies your craving for them lol

*******************

“Once again,” you declare to Max as you enter the padel court, your hands full with water bottles, “I’m so glad you’re fast,”

“He’s only fast on wheels,” Lando jokes, shaking his head at Max as he takes a bottle. “Seriously, mate, Fernando is a great player, and so was Charles yesterday, so you are definitely the problem,”

Daniel and Fernando agree as they take their bottles, while Max gingerly waits for you to hand him his.

“It’s the- it’s my, like, shoes, mate. They’re sticky,” he defends himself indignantly while Lando and Daniel snicker. “I swear they’re-“

“Don’t worry,” says Fernando, clapping Max on the shoulder. “We tell them what it is in the champions group chat. Oh, no, we can’t, they’re not there,”

The snickering stops, and Lando and Daniel look like kids whose teacher has just asked them to hand in their homework.

“Well,” Lando huffs. “That was uncalled for,”

Everyone just laughs, and Daniel ruffles his hair.

The other three chug at their water while Max stands next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s cute, how unused he is to not being good at something, even more unused to continuing to do that thing regardless. As much as you tease him, you’re immensely proud. You know that voice in his head telling him to stop embarrassing himself all too well. He’s been better at quieting his than you ever have yours.

“Honestly, it’s the wrong shoes,” he mutters to you, sliding one of his feet along the floor.

“I know, Maxy,” you say, tempted to kiss the pout right off his face. “But hey, you’re going home with me, so did you really lose?”

“That’s not worth extra points, so yes,”

“You know, I really thought we’d make it at least six months before I murdered you,” you say, poking him in the chest hard enough that he rubs at the spot over his heart.

“I don’t get it,” Max says, his face twisted in hopeless bewilderment. “How does being with you mean I won padel?”

“Mate, look at your girlfriend. You won life,” Daniel explains, coming up behind you to sling a damp arm around your shoulders.

“Danny, if you ever get that Red Bull seat, call me, because this dufus ain’t cutting it,” you joke, squeezing at his hip. Daniel laughs and lets go if you with a sticky pat to the back as Max groans.

“Naw, come on,” he says, sliding his arms around your waist as you cross your arms over you chest, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I don’t even care about padel,”

He doesn’t pull you closer, mindful that he’s sweaty, and you feel your heart ache a little. Max was the centre of his world, thousands of people spent their lives anticipating a flick of his wrist, but he never once took another person for granted.

“Cut him some slack,” Lando says, and you watch him pour some water over his curls with a grin. “He knows he won the lottery,”

You frown at that. “He didn’t.” You finally turned to Max, looking up at his flushed cheeks and glassy ocean eyes as you press a palm to his cheek. “the lottery is luck. He got me on purpose,”

He smiles at that, hands ghosting over your hips as he lets go of you. “Who cares about being a padel champion?”

You shrug, brushing some hair away from his forehead, just to touch it. “I’d rather go home with a four time world champion anyway,”

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #max verstappen fanfiction #f1 imagine

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todorokies · 10 months

Text

jjk characters as male thot jobs

including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami

contents: sfw but very suggestive, jjk men acting like sluts, gn!reader but there is a fem term used once

a/n: you might not consider some of these as “thot jobs” but im here to hypnotize you ouuuuhhh *wiggles fingers around* .. this is so silly but i had a blast writing this one

☆ . . . since gojo’s brain is hardwired to find teasing others amusing and quite the pass time i could see him as a dentist. you go to your local clinic for a annual deep cleaning and this man purposely goes out of his way to make things seem inherently sensual but still manages to do his job professionally. he’ll coo and praise you for following the most regular orders “now open real nice and wide for me … that’s righttt, good girl.” and “bite down on this … mhm yes just like that, you’re doing a great job.”

he’d definitely be like the annoying ones who still try to have a conversation while knuckles-deep prodding in your mouth. “i can tell you haven’t been flossing as much as you should be, what’s up with that?” and all you can do is narrow your eyes at him. he always caress your jaw and cheek too even through the latex gloves his touches are so intimate and gentle at the end of your appointment you’ll be genuinely considering if you should fuck your dentist or not.

☆ . . . i had multiple options for geto but firmly decided on a ceramic artist. i can envision him owning a modern yet whimsical pottery studio —he wanted the modern look but nanako and mimiko insist on the whimsical interior.— he offers free beginner classes twice a month. omgg the way his hands knead at the clay and skillfully sculpts on the wheel with his fingers meticulously bending, making his veins more prominent while delicately morphing the creation into a vase. he annunciates his instructions with melodic calmness but still has authority present in his tone i swearrr his voice is like honey.

you catch his eye in one of his classes and offers extended hours free of charge to help you “better your form.” he sits behind you, cradling your forearms directing your movements but still making room for you to assist your own creation. his warm minted breath tickles the back of your neck causing goosebumps “make sure to sit close to the wheel and anchor your elbows tightly against your body…” the sultry in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed with him slightly moving to your ear next “don’t be afraid to make mistakes it’s all about trial and error darling.”

☆ . . . like the unemployed bum toji is, he seems like the type of man to pride himself as a ‘jack of all trades.’ which is why i see him in the freelancer field of work, specifically, a personal shopper. he has an app on his phone where he can either accept or deny requests. he’s quite picky with commissions when money isn’t running low, but don’t get him wrong, he’s willing to go the extra mile to please his clients. always prefers phone calls over text when discussing farther details knowing his gruff voice will have the recipient weak in the knees. he isn’t shameful to treat his full time employment as a part time hookup arrangement…if he’s lucky enough that is.

“here’s your stuff pretty.” the quite taller and muscular man at your porch hands over a brown bag containing your groceries. you don’t miss the way his hands graze yours in the exchange, his sharp eyes examine you like you’re his prey; awaiting for your next move in a game you involuntarily started playing. words of gratitude try to slither past your lips but ultimately couldn’t —you’ve officially peaked his interest— “hey, why don’t i help you unload your items?” at that you nodded making way for the sleazy man to enter your home and eventually your bedroom as well.

☆ . . . what differentiates nanami from the rest is that he’s unaware of how insanely attractive his profession as a baker is. he truly doesn’t understand the appeal of a man in an apron kneading dough and decorating pink frilly cupcakes. he co-owns a bakery with haibara !! they even enrolled in culinary school together. the interior is quite morden with wisteria and other succulent plants hanging from the ceiling; most of the time he’s clueless to very clear advances from others or kindly shut them down saying how he’s “not looking for anything serious” which is a lie he himself started to believe.

but on a faithful sunday autumn morning you stroll in just salivating at the thought of warm dewy chocolate filled croissants, fresh from the oven, when you see him; clad in a bulky knitted cream sweater tying a black apron around his slim waist whilst his becipes bulged slightly through the thick material of the sweater. “good morning, what can i get for you today?” one thing lead to another making you leave with not only a croissant but the blond man’s phone number —due thanks to his cheeky younger coworker, yuji, who wrote the number on your receipt including a note that read: ‘he’s soooo into you :)’—

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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bingwriterxo · 10 months

Text

the chase

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada play a game of cat and mouse

warnings: none

word count: 4100+

author's note: does this make any sense? great question!

The moment Vada slipped into the passenger’s seat of Nick’s car, words were flying out of his mouth faster than she could comprehend, which was saying a lot considering how often she’d find herself rambling about the most random of things.

“Where were you yesterday?” he started as he shifted the car into drive, beginning their short ride to school. “I called you seven times, and you didn’t answer once. It was Sunday, and you do nothing on Sundays! I was beginning to think you were dead until I texted your mom and--”

Vada shook her head. “Wait, slow down. Back up. You text my mom? When did you get her number?”

He waved her off. “Not important. What is important is you telling me what you were doing yesterday.” He rolled past a stop sign, barely even glancing in its direction as he drove past. “I mean, seven calls, V, and you answered not a single one! So, what were you doing?”

She grinned, giggling in her seat at what she was about to reveal. “I had a date!”

Almost immediately, Nick whipped his head to look at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “With who?!” he practically shouted.

Vada reached out, took his chin between her forefinger and thumb, and turned his head back in the direction of the windshield. “Eyes on the road, stupid. I’m not trying to die today.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Vada, if you don’t tell me who you went on a date with in the next five seconds, I’ll purposely drive us into oncoming traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she teased with a roll of her eyes. He glared at her quickly before focusing on the road again. She bit her lip, trying to quell the excitement raging in her stomach as she said, “It was with Y/N.”

The car skidded to a stop and Vada was jolted forward, her seatbelt pressing tight against her body.

“Dude, what the fuck--” she began, but she was silenced as Nick twisted in his seat, his eyes hard as they set on her and his frown so defined that it made her uncomfortable.

“What,” he deadpanned.

She rubbed at her chest, right where the seat belt had dug into her. “What?” she asked, confused.

“You went on a date with…Y/N? Popular Y/N? Like, most-popular-girl-in-school Y/N?”

Vada tilted her head. “Uh, yeah?”

“Why the fu--” Nick was interrupted by a car honking at him. He threw his arm up in annoyance before starting to drive again, and Vada gulped as he stewed in his seat. “I can’t believe you went on a date with Y/N!”

“Why are you saying it like that?” Vada asked. She shifted, disliking the tension that was starting to fill the air. “You make it sound like a bad thing. I thought you’d be excited! I finally went on my first date with a girl! You’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I came out to you.”

“First of all, I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I met you, because, baby, the closet is glass.” He took a hard right. The school loomed up ahead. “Secondly, I wanted you to go on a date with basically anyone other than Y/N.”

Vada furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m not that obviously bisexual.” Silence filled the car and she huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, maybe I am. But why is going out with Y/N such a bad thing? She’s funny and cute and really smart. Basically, she’s perfect.”

“She’s not perfect, V,” Nick said, sitting up a little straighter as he pulled into the parking lot. “Haven’t you ever noticed that she’s got a new girl hanging off of her every month?” Vada’s stomach dropped, a sudden sense of anxiety flooding through her veins. “I mean, she goes through girls like you go through sugar.”

“No she doesn’t,” Vada tried, but her denial fell on deaf ears.

“She’s the biggest player this school has,” Nick said, leaning forward as he tried to pull into his designated parking spot. “She’s probably the biggest player in the damn county. She chases after a girl, stays with her for a few weeks, gets bored, and then does it all over again.” He turned to her as he shifted the gear into park. “Vada, she’s worse than John Tucker.”

“Are you seriously referencing a movie right now?” She scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. “She’s not like that.”

“Fine,” Nick conceded. “But when you get hurt, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s just in it for the chase.”

Vada clambered out of the car and pulled her backpack onto her shoulder. “And when we live happily ever after,” she started as she and Nick started to walk into the school, “I’ll say ‘I told you so’.”

He glanced at her before looking forward, his eyes widening. “...I’m not so sure about that one, V.”

She frowned and followed Nick’s line of sight, a sharp pain shooting through her at what she saw. You had your back pressed against your locker, trapped there by Stacey from Vada’s history class, who had her hand flat against the metal and was leaning close to you. Stacey was batting her eyelashes and giggling, and you were smiling along.

“Oh,” Vada said, voice quiet and small. She tore her eyes away and blinked hard, looking back up at Nick. “Well, I guess you were right.”

He offered her a pitiful smile. “I’m sorry, V. But, you should be glad you won’t be another girl stuck in her revolving door of girls.”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low and filled with sorrow. “So happy.”

Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder, leading her toward his own locker. “Don’t be so sad. It’s for the best.”

Vada glanced away. “I just don’t get it. I mean, if she’s in it for the chase, then why is she flirting with another girl? Was I not good enough to chase?” She frowned. “Am I just too boring? Or do I talk too much?” She looked up at Nick. “Nick, be honest with me, do I talk too much? Could that turn someone off?”

“Yes,” he said simply, nodding his head. Vada huffed. He pulled away as the two reached his locker and focused on putting his combination into the lock. “Don’t think too far into it, though. I don’t think you wanna go through the pain of it anyway.” He shrugged and then hit the metal door when it wouldn’t open. “Stupid, old locker.” He glanced at her. “You’d just end up getting your heart broken.”

Vada sighed and leaned against the locker beside Nick’s, her shoulder pressing against the cool metal. “That’s dumb. And unfair. And not very nice.”

Nick’s locker door finally popped open. “Just ignore her from now on, okay?” He glanced at her and started to put his books into his locker. “Don’t talk to her, don’t text her, don’t even think about her. ‘Y/N Y/L/N who?’ That’s how you should be acting.”

She nodded hesitantly. “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

“Good.” He slammed the door shut. “Now let’s go to class.”

* * *

The first few periods rolled by smoothly. Vada had no classes with you until after lunch, and she didn’t even get a glimpse of you in the hallways. While part of her was still disheartened by your act, she also agreed with Nick’s words: it was probably for the best that she didn’t get tangled up with you.

That is, until she asked to use the bathroom during her science class, and upon walking inside, found you standing by the sinks, fixing your hair in the mirror. Almost immediately, your eyes landed on her figure through the reflection and you grinned, showing all your pearly-white teeth, before turning around to face her. Vada’s breath was practically sucked from her lungs as she stared at you.

“Vada! Hey!” you greeted, voice happy and excited.

It made Vada uncomfortable, how easily you were able to put on that mask. Nick’s voice rang in her head: Don’t talk to her. She bounced on the balls of her feet before promptly making the decision to hide in one of the stalls, slipping away from your field of vision without a word.

“Oh…kay…” she heard you say. There was the shuffling of your feet before she could see your shoes beneath the stall door. “Text me, okay? I had fun yesterday.” You turned and Vada listened as your footsteps receded.

When she knew she was finally alone, she let out the breath she had been holding and leaned forward, her forehead bumping against the metal of the stall.

“C’mon, Vada, get it together,” she mumbled. “She’s a player. She doesn’t want anything from you.” She clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. “She doesn’t want you.”

That was the mantra that repeated in her head for the entire day. It was what she heard when she saw you during lunch, waving at her from across the cafeteria. She reminded herself of it when you sat down beside her during English class and tried to make conversation, to which she entirely ignored you--it did hurt her heart a little when she saw your wide eyes and jutted out bottom lip when you realized she wouldn’t talk to you, but she tried to ignore that, too.

It all came to a head at the end of the day, when Vada was trying to pile as many of her books as she possibly could into her backpack. She was almost done when you sidled up beside her, a gleaming smile on your face and your hands tucked sheepishly in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Hey,” you said softly, like Vada was a scared animal that would run away.

She swallowed, half of her so desperately wanting to talk to you and ask why you would ask her out just to play with her, while the other half of her was set in her stubborn way of not speaking a word to you. The latter half won as she shut her locker door and walked away, but she couldn’t shake you.

You followed beside her, looking down at her as you walked. “I don’t know what happened between yesterday and today, or if you’re just having an off day or something, but I really did have fun on our date, and I’d like to take you on another one.”

She glanced up at you, unable to stop the quickening of her pulse. What if you were telling the truth? She shook her head, Nick’s words in her ear: Don’t even think about her.

Vada managed to lose you in the crowd of students all trying to exit the school at once, but she still heard your voice call over the sound of everyone else.

“I’ll text you then!”

Something about your determination made her want to melt right into your arms, but she stood up a little straighter and continued walking. You didn’t actually want her, she reminded herself. You just liked the chase.

* * *

After a night full of text messages from you that Vada never answered, she sauntered into school the next day with Nick by her side, completely set on avoiding you as much as she could. Unfortunately for both her and Nick, it seemed like you wanted to make that impossible.

The minute she passed through the front doors, you were walking beside her, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Vada glanced at them quickly, feeling butterflies stir in her stomach at the sight, but Nick slapped her on the hand, forcing her to keep her stoic face as she picked up the pace and tried to walk away.

“What, do you not like roses?” you asked, just a step behind the pair. You sounded dejected, defeated--some part of Vada felt bad; the other part thought ‘good. she should feel bad’. After a moment of silence from you, she heard the smallest, “Well, okay,” and when she looked over her shoulder, you were gone, the roses sticking out of the top of the nearest trash can. It was a depressing sight to see.

She sighed. “I feel kind of bad, Nick,” she admitted, and the boy shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “She deserves to be humbled for once.” He scoffed. “She can’t just have anyone she wants and then throw them away when she gets bored because she’s pretty and popular. And she most certainly can’t do that to you.”

“But, yesterday she said that she had fun on our date and wants to go on another one. What if she was telling the truth? What if she actually likes me?”

Nick shook his head again. “It’s all part of her sick game. She wants you to fall for her, and then she’ll pull the rug right out from under you.” He patted Vada on the shoulder. “Trust me; she’s bad news.”

Vada glanced back over her shoulder again, and this time she found you in the same position as the day before--leaning back against your locker with Stacey standing in front of you, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

Your eyes flitted toward her for a split second, wide and forlorn, before they were focusing on Stacey again. You broke out into a grin, throwing your head back as you laughed.

“Right,” Vada grumbled, an ache forming in her chest and radiating throughout the rest of her body. “Bad news.”

* * *

The ‘bad news’ didn’t seem so bad anymore when, in the middle of English class, Vada was tapped on the shoulder by the boy behind her. When she twisted around to see what he wanted, he unceremoniously shoved a folded piece of paper in her direction, a scowl on his face as he waited for her to take it.

With furrowed eyebrows and a frown, Vada grabbed the paper and turned back in her seat, glancing up at her teacher to make sure he wasn’t watching as she unfolded the sheet.

Vada,

Thought I might try the old-fashioned way. Are you free on Friday night? The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries, and I remember you saying you had a crush on Anne Hathaway. Wanna go together?

Y/N :)

Vada glanced toward the back of the room, where you had found yourself sitting that day, and saw you already looking at her, hope painting your face prettily. She cursed herself internally at the butterflies in her stomach as she looked back at the note you had sent forward. It was cute--she’d give you that--and she was tempted to say yes, but the image of Stacey flirting with you flitted through her mind, and that was enough for her to crumple the paper in her hand.

She didn’t look back at you.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident: you didn’t try to speak to her in the halls, and by the time she went to sleep, Vada hadn’t received a single text from you. Just before she drifted off for the night, she briefly thought that you had given up--perhaps you had grown so used to girls falling into your lap that chasing Vada was just too much energy that you didn’t want to use.

She was proven wrong when she woke up to a voicemail from you in the morning. You had called her late at night--the timestamp reading nearly three o’clock--and when Vada played the message aloud, your voice filling her room, shame bloomed in her stomach.

“Hey,” you started, your voice quiet and scratchy. “It’s me. Or, it’s Y/N. I--I don’t know if you’ve deleted my number or something. I just…Look, I know it hasn’t been long since our date, but…” You sighed, and Vada could hear the faintest sound of a sniffle. “The cold shoulder from you doesn’t feel great. I just wanna know where we stand. I had fun on Sunday. Uh, it’s okay if you didn’t. I just wish you would tell me.” You sniffled again. “I guess if you don’t answer this, that’s my answer. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in school.”

Vada threw herself back into her pillows with a sigh. She ran a hand down her face, groaning. “Fuck,” she mumbled. “Fuck.” You sounded so sincere in the voicemail, but what if that were just another one of your ploys? What if you did this with every girl? What if—

“Bitch, why the fuck are you still in bed?” Nick asked as he burst into Vada’s bedroom.

She groaned again, throwing her legs up and down like a small toddler not getting their way. Her heart was pulling toward you, but her brain was trying to run away from you as fast as possible. She was torn, and she had no idea what to do.

Luckily for her, she was given more time to think than she had expected. You were absent that day, your missing presence a large hole in her day. There was no one to offer her flowers, or to try to pass her notes during class, or to wave at her in the cafeteria. As much as she hated admitting it to herself, she still liked you, and the lack of you carved a deep pit into her stomach.

That night, when there was still no sign of you--no texts or calls or even posts on any social media--she fell asleep with worry itching beneath her veins and guilt pricking at her chest.

The next morning wasn’t any better. Anxiety sat heavy like a rock in Vada’s stomach as she got ready, while Nick sang some random song in the car, when she walked through the parking lot and into school.

Her eyes immediately flitted toward your locker, a mixture of relief and sorrow surging through her at the sight of you standing there, alone, but with your head hung and your eyes trained on your feet. You were in sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. It was all completely unlike you.

“Nick,” she called, getting the boy’s attention. She subtly pointed at you. “Do you think she’s okay?”

He scoffed. “I’m sure her outfit just didn’t look as good in real life as it did in her head. What else does she have to worry about?”

Vada shrugged, her eyes still locked on you. You didn’t look up once.

* * *

It was at night that Vada’s worry had turned into all-out panic. Throughout the school day, you had avoided her like the plague, making sure to never interact with her. At one point, you had locked eyes with her down the hall and then swiftly spun on your heel and walked back in the direction you came from.

That, combined with getting absolutely no notifications from you, led her to a terribly easy decision as she stood from her bed, grabbed a hoodie, and lied to her mom that she was going to Nick’s house. She slipped out the front door, her pace quick as she rushed the few blocks to your house.

When she arrived, it was almost completely dark, save for the fluorescent light coming from your living room, where Vada had found herself just days before after you had taken her out to dinner.

With a hesitant hand, she knocked on your front door. It took only a few seconds before you appeared, looking completely unsurprised to see her.

“Vada,” you said softly, and she was immediately surrounded by the scent of alcohol on your breath. “What’re you doing here?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you…drunk? On a Thursday night?”

You shrugged. “So what if I am? What’re you doing here?” you repeated.

Pushing aside her concerns about your drinking habits, she asked, “Why did you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Chasing me,” she said, like you should’ve known.

You forced out a dry laugh, tilting your head to the side. “You know, you’re a confusing girl.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you completely ignored all of my attempts to talk to you, and now you’re upset that I’ve stopped, even though it seemed like that’s what you wanted.” You narrowed your eyes. “Sounds kind of confusing, don’t you think?”

Vada swallowed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair,” you muttered beneath your breath. “Okay. Sure. I was unfair to you.” You leaned back on your heels, your hand gripping the doorknob. “Now, if that’s all, then I’ll see you at school.”

You started to close the door, but something about your indifference made anger rise in Vada. “I just didn’t want to become a girl in your revolving door of girls!” she shouted.

You stilled, your eyes widening before glazing over. “Right. My revolving door of girls. That’s what everyone says, right?” Your voice was hollow, sad. Vada didn’t understand why.

“They say it because it’s true,” she huffed. Your posture fell and you glanced away, clenching your jaw. “You chase, you get, you grow bored.”

“That’s not true.” You looked at her, and faintly, she could see tears glossing your eyes. “That’s not…true. Those girls chase me; they use me; they leave me.” Your volume grew steadily, a sort of rage backing your words. “But since I’m the one factor that stays the same, everyone blames me. And it’s not--” You sighed. “It’s not true.”

You scoffed. “And you know what, I thought you might be the one person that didn’t believe what everyone else said. You seemed real, authentic, like you didn’t really give a shit about the crowd, Vada. That’s why I liked you, why I was trying. I thought you were your own person. But I was wrong. You’re just like the rest of the school.”

With all of the new information thrown at her, confusion and guilt and shame and hurt burning her, the only thing Vada managed to say was, “Oh.”

You nodded, glancing away. “Yeah. ‘Oh’. So, I’ll see you at school.”

When you shut the door, leaving Vada standing alone on your front porch, realization struck her like a tidal wave, and everything from the past few days came crashing down on her.

You didn’t chase. Or, at least, not until her.

“Shit.”

* * *

Vada (11:42pm): need ur help

Vada (11:42pm): 911

Mia (11:43pm): ???

Vada (11:43pm): help me ask Y/N out

Vada (11:43pm): ur her best friend. pls.

Mia (11:45pm): bro u fucked up big time

Mia (11:45pm): shes forgiving and all but…

Vada (11:45pm): mia pls

Mia (11:49pm): fine.

Mia (11:49pm): only b/c i know how much she likes u

Mia (11:49pm): dont fuck up again

Mia (11:50pm): heres what u should do

* * *

You didn’t show up to school again the next day, but it barely registered in Vada’s mind. She had already known beforehand that you wouldn’t be going--Mia had slipped her some ‘secret intel’ that your hangover had you sleeping the day away. Instead, she spent the hours mentally preparing herself, and as soon as the bell rang to signal the end of the day, she set her plan into motion.

At exactly six o’clock at night, Vada was standing at your front door again, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her (Mia’s) car keys in the other. She knocked on the wood, waited, and when you pulled the door open, her words immediately pushed themselves out of her mouth.

“The drive-in is showing The Princess Diaries tonight, and I know you don’t like Anne Hathaway as much as I do, but I’d like to take you to see it.” She inhaled deeply and continued. “And I’d also like to apologize because I’ve been shitty to you these past few days, and I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors, and I should’ve just talked to you about it all, and I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I just”--she gasped, her lungs stinging with lack of air, and kept going--“I really do like you, and I did have fun on our initial date, and I’m sorry. Can I take you to the drive-in?”

You blinked once, twice, before you raised a single brow. “What?”

Vada sighed. “The most important thing from all of that is that I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know that can’t just go away, but I’d like the chance to make it up to you, if you’d let me.” She shoved the flowers in your direction. “Want to go see The Princess Diaries?”

You glanced down at the flowers, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, and then took them from her. With the smallest and softest smile that made Vada’s knees buckles, you nodded.

“Okay.” Your face fell. “But on one condition.”

She nodded fervently. “Anything.”

You grinned. “Let’s get milkshakes after and talk.”

bonus: “like, how could you not have a huge crush on anne hathaway?” vada asked, her eyes glued to the big screen.

you hummed. “i’ve got my eye on someone else.”

when she looked at you, ready to argue about anne hathaway’s attractiveness, you were already staring at her, smiling.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #the fallout

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

Text

prove it to me ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: "I'm not your baby Jungkook. Remember that." Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who's constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you'll play into his game and prove that he's no more average than the rest.

Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: PWP, smut, humor, fluff, one-sided e2l, friend of friends, oneshot (for now?)

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5.3k+

Warnings: arguing, swearing, sexual tension, denial of feelin’s, kook’s kind of an @$$ but he got some truth to him, oc's jaded & not buying into kook's bs, myg being a good friend then ditching lmao, kook likes calling oc petnames, kook is bunny boy

sexually explicit content: dom!jk, switch sub!reader, semi-awkward first kiss, unprotected s*x (pls stay safe everyone!!), teasing, foreplay, dirty talk, some manhandling, rough sex, t*itty suck, f*ngering, penetration, cunnilingus, doggy, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), kooks calls her pretty girl, some degradation/dumbification (sl*t calling) & oc has bit of an actual dumby moment but she's still fairly rigid, but not a full brat? Lmao idk

Now playing: Monster in me, Breakfast, LOUD

A/N: ahdjsj?c it's here! 👉👈 a thousand apologies that this is out way later than planned! Uni getting most of my time 😟 But its here and I'm so pumped to share it with you guys!! Hope you enjoy 😗💕

Taglist:

@marcoazz2 @demiec0re @jcrl99 @muah-minhoe-8 @whoa-jo @jeongukkieeeeeeee @sweet4jenni @chanjwl @kimtaesss @jexizia @vexstrils @notchia @dollypoetry @cherrysoulth @burnahtsw @icantpickabiasugh @megaamonn

Jung freaking kook. Just look at him sitting over there, half-naked and wet. Sure, he’s got a towel thrown over a shoulder but it’s so small it’s doing fuck all to dry him off. Obviously he chose it on purpose. He thinks he’s such hot shit but you think he looks like a drowned rat.

And look! He’s got Namjoon’s apartment floor drenched with the pool water he tracked in! Man, if this was your place you’d be handing him a nice mop and bucket right about now.

"They were begging me to go a fourth round, but I was winding down, y'know?" Jungkook's voice echos obnoxiously off the walls. You mentally roll your eyes. He’s got a big mouth too. This must be your twentieth time hearing the same spiel about his little rendezvous with two chicks during undergrad. News flash Jungkook, you're not a god!

The guys are into it, though. You scan the room. Hoseok's on the verge of drooling, and Jimin can't stop grinning. Namjoon and Seokjin are leaning back in their seats, slight smirks pulling at the corners of their mouths. And Taehyung? Don't even get started on him. The man excused himself for the bathroom about ten minutes ago and is still yet to return.

Men. You decided to spend your one free Saturday with men.

You should have accepted Soyeon's offer to go drinking instead. This was the downside of being one of the only females in this so-called "friend group". None of your girlfriends were here! Sure, other women were around, but they were far too busy slinging themselves all over that perfectly chiseled bod–no.

Don't finish that thought.

Lots of guys go to the gym, __. Jungkook is nothing special. These women are obviously brainwashed; unlike them, you don't have time for his little boy games. It's time to get out of here.

"Okay, well, I'm heading out. Nice seeing everyone," you say, rising from your seat.

Jimin whips his head around. "What, already? We haven't gotten to the good part yet."

“There’s a good part?" You scoff. “Or, you mean Jungkook making girl number two squirt all over the bed? Heard it before, don't need to hear it again."

"It was girl number one," Jungkook butts in, eager to correct.

Whatever. You swing the apartment door open, phone and keys in hand. "See most of you on work Monday." You allow the door to slam behind you.

"She okay?" Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, wheels turn in his head.

"Don't worry about her. Work's probably got her beat." Namjoon cracks open a can of beer unfazed.

Jungkook nods, chewing on the bottom of his lip. "Does she–"

"The answer's no. __ doesn't need a good fuck, so put those thoughts away."

Shit, Jungkook swears internally.

Monday morning comes like hell on your doorstep. You're groggy when you wake up, barely getting to the shower. You considered skipping the ritual entirely but couldn't, not with how gross you felt. Project deadlines were right on your tail too, so you needed to either slap yourself awake or kiss your precious job promotion goodbye. You choose the later.

"Hey Minji, how are those files coming along?" You round the corner of the small office. It's 10 o'clock now, and everyone is typing, scanning, copying, and making phone calls until steam comes out of their ears.

"Almost finished." Your coworker, only a few years younger, responds. "Just have to tie up some loose ends, and then I'll hand them to you for review."

"Great. Thanks for–" You pause when you catch a slight grin spreading across Minji's face. Despite all the chaos today, Minji's definitely been the most cheerful. "You seem really happy today. Something good happened recently?"

Minji suppresses the grin and squeezes her palms in her lap. “Nothing in particular. Just glad to be a part of the team."

"Yeah, right!" Hoseok sends a knowing smirk, nearing the two of you. "Someone had a busy night last night, huh? It's okay. __ is cool. You can tell her anything." Once close enough, your coworker pulls you into a casual side hug.

You grimace. It feels weird while at the office.

"Do you mind?" You shrug him off. "It's work hours."

"Well, actually," Minji starts, cheeks rising. "It's nothing like that. I'm going on a date tonight. I'm just a little excited."

Hoseok's mouth forms an 'o', eyes widening. "Really? Who is it?"

"Uh, his name's Jeon–"

"Jungkook?” Jimin’s head pokes up from across the cubicle. Eavesdropping as usual.

"No…," Minji replies. "Who's Jungkook?"

"He's just a close friend of ours." Hoseok gestures between the three of you. “He’s Jeon Jungkook.”

"He's only you guy's friend," you say bitterly. Considering that player as a friend is pushing it for you. Really pushing it.

"C'mon, what's with you and Jungkook?" Jimin says, shooting you a borderline glare. "You've had bad blood with the guy since you met him.”

"Oh, don't start with me Park,” you fold your arms. "You know exactly why I feel the way I do."

You think he'll have a comeback, but he doesn't. Jimin simply sighs and returns to his work. Figures he'd be the one to jump to Jungkook's defense. The man practically idolizes him. That, and he's been best friends with him for the past eight years. Loyalty sure has its perks.

"So! If it's not Jungkook, who's the guy?" Hoseok asks, hoping to switch the topic around.

Minji jolts up in her seat. “Wonwoo," she says. “His name’s Wonwoo. We ran into each other at a friend's birthday party last night."

"Well, good luck with him tonight," you reply, returning to your office. "I'm sure it'll go well." Enough small talk. You have a whole seven hours plus of work left.

6:45 p.m.

The clock on your screen blinks at you. Everyone's gone home by now, and so should you. But you're still here, fingers frantically typing on the keyboard.

“__, go home already." Your finance officer, Min Yoongi, stands in the doorway, resting an arm against the frame. He's got his soft, leather briefcase in the other hand; yes, the one you got him for his birthday a couple months ago.

Yoongi was the only person in your department who often stayed as late as you. He looked like he was on his way out, though. Must have gotten what he wanted done. "I'll get there eventually," you say. "Just finishing some reports for our meeting tomorrow."

"What reports? They're all done."

"Well…my reports."

"You mean, the ones that we don't actually need?" He quirks a brow.

"They're extra just in case. There might be something off, and this might help." Yeah maybe you were making shit up to keep yourself busy, so sue you. What else were you going to preoccupy your time with? You already polished off the last pint of cookies and cream ice cream.

"You're cute." Pushing off the doorframe, Yoongi nears your desk. "You know boss doesn't look at them."

"You never kno–"

"Hey." The authority in your co-worker's voice makes you straighten your posture. "Let's cut the bullshit." In a moment of urgency, he leans his body between you and your computer.

"Excuse you?" You shove his shoulder with both hands, but he stands firm until your computer goes pitch black.

"Here's what we're gonna do." You're gently pulled up and out of your seat by the wrist. "I'm gonna get a drink, and you're coming with me."

The man gathers your coat and bag, slinging them over a shoulder. You feel your legs being lifted off the ground soon after. "I can walk, you know." You reflexively kick your feet in protest. It's been a while since he's picked you up like this.

Yoongi switches off the light and makes his way to the elevator at the end of hall. "Not right now, you can't." He pushes the button, calling it up.

"Ah look at you," you purr, locking your arms around his neck. "Someone's been watching k-dramas after hours. Trying to confess or something?"

He enters the elevator for both of you, amused by your playful remark. "I consider you my friend, __. But if I were trying to confess, I'd just come out with it. Subliminal messaging isn't really my thing.”

Understanding his notion, you close your mouth. What were you supposed to say to that?

You aimlessly watch as the woman pours freshly shaken alcohol into a short, round glass. She finishes the concoction by sticking an orange wedge along the rim. A cocktail, a classic but timeless favorite. Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey and tilts his head towards you. "Whenever you're ready to spill your guts, let me know."

"Hmm? I don't have anything going on." You down a shot yourself. "Nothing to spill here."

He gives his glass a gentle swirl, liquid splashes against the sides.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing's wrong," you say.

He sets his glass on the bartop, straight-faced.

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at. We just came for a drink."

"It's him, isn't it? Bunny boy with the six pack."

Your nose scrunches knowing exactly who he's referring to. With little thought you give a short 'no'.

Yoongi stares at you nonchalantly. "Nice try, but I'm not an idiot, __. I don't know the guy that well, but I know enough that he's been on your mind a lot. You've been real prickly towards him too. Something tells me he's the reason you've been burying yourself in work lately.”

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just committed to my work. You know me, Ms. married to her job and all." You feign a chuckle. "I assure you, Ju–he's the furthest thing from my mind."

“Mhm...right." He hums unconvinced. "Tell me ms. married to her job, why won't you say his name?"

"Because-" You cut shortly. "I'd rather not think of him right now. Can't we talk about something else or drink in peace?"

He reaches for another taste of his burning liquor. "Alright."

Minutes pass before either of you speaks. You and Yoongi do this often, and you cherish it quite a bit. Sitting in silence after a long day at work soothes both your minds. But the man was right. Your mind isn't settled at all. No. It's buzzing with constant deadlines, family expectations, social commitments–

"Okay it's him!" you blurt out, earning the attention of a few passing diners and even the bartender herself. Shoulders slouch as you grip the glass in front of you. Your eyes shift to your right, side-eyeing Yoongi, silently staring back at you.

"Jungkook...he’s just frustrating,” you finally say. “Fucking this girl, fucking that girl. Do you think I wanna know how many places he's stuck it in? No, I don't. But does that stop him?“

You down your second shot.

"He's been going on about the same lay for three years now. Three years, Yoongi. Honestly, how long's he going to keep it up? ‘They were begging to go again’, like who fucking cares?!” Blood boils through your veins.

A third shot.

"I mean, how good can he be? If you asked me, he's average! Average Jeon Jungkook with probably an even more average dick!”

“Damn, you’re pretty feisty angel.” A man slides on the stool to your left. “Calling me average and everything. Kinda hurts my feelings y’know?”

You nearly choke picking up the man’s voice and scent– fuckin' Jungkook.

You swivel to face him. “Drop the pet names Jeon. I'm not your angel, and I seriously doubt I’m wounding any so called ‘feelings’,” you spit. “Why don’t you take your ego somewhere else…” You nod at the group of women gawking in the corner. Jungkook follows your gaze before meeting your eyes again.

"Not interested," he shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh wow, really?” Maybe sarcasm wasn’t the best way to go but since when did Jungkook start passing up overly eager women…shocker.

"Don't be insulting, __. I probably sleep around a lot more in your head than in real life."

"Please, who are you fooling," you reach for your fourth shot. Jungkook steals it out of your hand, however, shaking his head.

"No, no, no." He sets the glass on his other side, furthest from your grasp. "Someone might be getting a little ahead of herself."

Teeth clench. Is he patronising you?

"Do you mind?" The words spit out of your mouth. "I'm trying to sit and have a nice drink with my friend."

"And what friend would that be?" Jungkook leans forward in his seat, sparing a glance past your figure.

"Yoongi."

"Oh, him…hate to break it to you but he left with some woman earlier.”

You turn around immediately. He's gotta be messing around but damn– Yoongi really left you. That little snake. He'll be hearing from you tomorrow.

Rising from the barstool, you snatch your belongings and make your way to the exit.

"Where are you going, __?” Heavy feet patter after you, following you to the parking lot. "Just 'cause Yoongi's gone doesn't mean you have to leave."

"I'm going home, Jungkook. 6am comes awfully quick." You want him to take the hint that you don't wanna stay but no such luck. You're instead blocked in your path, Jungkook facing you square on. He's a little close, but it doesn't matter. You'll just push around him.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" He wets his bottom lip. "If I've been too explicit about my private life, I'm sorry.” You watch as he rubs the side of his neck. “I tend-I tend to get carried away, especially around the guys. But after hearing what you said back there, I realize I should chill a little."

"Congratulations, you've figured it out.” You stare blankly at the man. “Can I leave now?" Brushing past him, you open your car door and jump inside. Dumb apology.

Fingers reach to shut the door, but Jungkook grips the rim, propping it open. "That can't be all." He leans down, shaking his head. "You clearly have some kind of vendetta against me and I'd like you to tell me why…please."

You blink up, patience running thin. You’re wondering what you should say to get him off your tail, but the longer you linger the more it’ll look like you’re staring. And heaven knows Jungkook gets enough eyes on him as is, especially with his biceps bulging from his shirt.

Not that you’re paying attention or anything but take tonight for instance with those women ogling him in the bar. Like, did he have to wear a white tank top tonight? Show off.

“You’re so arrogant,” you say, clenching your fists. "You act like you're the best thing this world's ever gotten."

It’s obvious that your words strike a cord inside Jungkook. His face, riddled with concern and protest. 'Him, arrogant? What on earth is this woman talking about?' his eyes say.

"That's not true. When have I ever acted like that?"

Baffled. That’s what you are. It takes every ounce of gull left in your body to step out and meet the man at eye level.

"You're kidding. What do you call the constant retelling of your college fling then? Because you sure love the pedestal it gives you! Must have heard it fifty fricken times by now."

"Okay, maybe a bit then, but like I said I just get carried away. Lost in the moment if you will. The guys wanna hear it anyway, and it's just one story, __. Hardly enough basis to say I love myself or some shit."

"But that's exactly it, Jeon. You think everyone will worship at your feet just because you have that one story, a bunny like smile, and the body of a–"

"Woah, wait a second. Did you say worship at my feet? I get you're pissed off at me but come on, that's a bit much."

"It's n---shut up Jungkook!" You snarl. How dare he interrupt you after demanding you to tell him what's wrong. "Don't you ever get tired of running your mouth all the time?!"

"Me running my mouth? You're the one yelling sweetheart." His icy tone sets you off.

"Listen asshole, just for once, can't you just listen! You're so average, fuck!"

"Alright babe, I hear you, damn!" His eyebrows knit together. "And stop saying that I'm average! I'm not, okay?"

"There you go again, acting all entitled with that over inflated ego. I said it before and I'll never stop saying it–you're an average fuck! I don't care how many people you get in your bed."

Jungkook paces backwards, fingers laced behind his head. He cranks his neck back and chuckles. "Oh sweetheart, that's where you're so, so wrong."

"No idea what you're talking about," you say, unmoved.

He steps forward, complete disregard for your personal space. His breath heats your skin. "You absolutely care who I'm with...who I'm talking to...and especially who I'm fucking." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "You care so much that it's eating at you, bit by bit."

You do all you can to ignore the way the back of your neck fires up and how your heart picks up as he speaks but–dammit, this isn't the time! He's messing with your sanity. Or maybe, it's the shots kicking in. Both likely. Either way, you’ll be damned if you let him catch on.

"Fuck off Jungkook!" You push against his muscular chest. The force should have sent him stumbling back, but it only makes him slightly jolt. Courtesy of his rock-solid form.

"Why? 'Cause I'm right?" He traces down your figure. “ 'Cause you're scared of what will happen once we get close?”

Palms sweating, you struggle to form a proper response.

Option A: No, you're not scared in which Jungkook will likely challenge you.

Option B: Yes you're scared in which you let Jungkook be right and your efforts will be in vain.

Or Option C, what you've been doing all along: Fuck off!

Lust clouds over Jungkook's eyes as you remain motionless.

"How 'bout you prove it to me." His voice cuts through your contemplation. "That I'm wrong, that you don't want this, and I'll do the same for you."

You know exactly what he's insinuating– a one night stand. You swore you'd never give in to his antics. Then again, you never thought things would escalate this far either.

But if you agree to sleep with him now, you'll look like a hypocrite. And what of the countless speeches you made about not wanting to be another one of his swooning, giddy women? Still… it's not like you want to sleep with him. And if you do sleep with him, and he's average after all, you'll finally have something to testify to.

That'll knock him down a few pegs.

"So…" You hear Jungkook drawl. "Is that smug expression you got on a yes?"

"Hurry up and unlock the door,” you snap, manners going awry. “I wanna get this done as soon as possible.”

"Relax will you.” Jungkook fiddles with his keys, nearly dropping them with every shuffle. “So bratty when you’re down to get some.” He ushers you forward once managing to crank the door open.

You ignore his snide remark, taking in the spacious room. “Don't tell me that's your bed,” you say. There, in the middle of the living room was a mattress. It was on the smaller side but not in bad shape. If that’s where Jungkook intends to give it to you though, you’ll gladly walk out.

“Seriously?” You're thrown a slightly pissed expression. “It’s for emergencies, okay? My room's down here." He breezes down the hall adjacent to the living room. You follow.

“Better?” A lamp switches on from the corner of the bedroom. The room’s a little bare but you can’t complain, at least it was clean.

"Yeah, its fine." You flicker your eyes at Jungkook, arms length away. Chest tightens, legs begin to shake.

This isn't a dream. You're fully conscious and you're about to jump in bed with Jeon Jungkook.

Inadvertently, you pause down at his lips–they look soft.

Oh fuck it...you can’t stomach anymore delays.

Feeling the adrenaline, you shake your coat off and toss it on the chair to the side. You march up to Jungkook next, grip the fabric of his shirt, and smash your lips against his.

It's unusual at first, sloppy even. You're moving your lips the best you can but it's a struggle getting into a rhythm. Likely because you've never kissed each other before, let alone made out.

The temptation to snort at how ridiculous the whole thing must look jabs at you. But it's when you feel Jungkook smiling through each kiss that it hits you like a ton of bricks–your lips have been the only ones moving.

"So that's how you kiss huh?" Breaking apart, he stares down at you, tongue in cheek. He's teasing you.

Rather than give an answer you smirk and twist the fabric of his shirt. You press your lips to his again but this time it's with more confidence and determination. A heavy grunt falls from his mouth and rough hands grip your hips as teeth clash against teeth.

"Fuck, slow down baby," Jungkook pants between kisses.

You ignore his plead and card through his hair with both hands, yanking on his soft, black strands. "I'm not your baby, Jungkook. Remember that."

Your back slams against the door instantly, knob rattling at the sudden pressure. With one hand, he anchors your wrists above your head while the tatted one wraps tightly around your waist. Saying this isn't turning you on would be a lie, a big fat lie.

"What do you want me to call you then?" Your thighs squeeze together when you feel his bulge brush against your center. His pecs graze atop your breasts too, causing a shiver down your spine. "Can't call you baby, can't call you angel."

You bite the inside of your cheek and gaze at Jungkook through your lashes. A devilish smirk spreads across his face at your chosen silence.

"Guess I'll have to figure it out along the way."

He inches forward, capturing your lips. His tongue licks the seam before pushing in the crevasse. Though you fight, you can't stop from moaning into his mouth.

You find your thoughts drifting to all the other places you'll feel his tongue tonight. Maybe on your neck, or your breasts, inside your thighs–fuck. You're about to soak your panties to bunny boy.

One by one, you feel the buttons of your silk blouse being pulled apart. The delicate material pools at to your feet in seconds, leaving you in your lacy white bra.

"Pretty," Jungkook plays with a strap before bringing his hands down to cup the swell of your breasts. "Not what I expected though...thought red was more your color." He flashes a cocky smirk.

"Very funny, Jung–"

You gasp when his thumbs start swirling tiny circles around your clothed nipples. "How hard are they?" He says.

"Take it off and find out."

"Fuck.” He squeezes your breasts. "You sure?"

Once giving a nod, you're pulled to the bed. Jungkook guides you on your back before settling himself around your waist in a straddled position. When he leans forward to reach behind your back, you feel his length poke you.

"Mm," you muffle a small moan.

He raises a brow. "What's gonna happen when I'm inside you huh?" The straps of your bra sweep off your shoulders. Cool air hits your breasts, nipples pebbling instantly.

"I can take it," you say.

Jungkook's eyes dilate at your bare breasted state. "Sure you can babe." The tips of his fingers graze along your sides. "Cause I'm just an average fuck yeah?"

His palms cup the underside of your boobs, squeezing lightly. He then lowers his lips to the ridge of your ear.

"Gonna make you come by your tits pretty girl." Your back arches as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh.

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," he hisses. "Rolls off your tongue just right." He trails from your neck down to your naval, leaving open mouth kisses along the way.

Your core twists at the warm sensation. You wanna tell him not to leave marks but something inside you secretly hopes he does.

Jungkook traces back up your torso, giving your buds a few flicks with his thumbs before taking one between his lips. He sucks firmly, switching between breasts. Occasionally you let out a yelp when his teeth tug at them ever so slightly.

You desperately want to rub your thighs together due to the wetness pooling between them but the weight of Jungkook straddling you doesn't allow for much movement.

“Be a good girl and stay still," he says, cocky grin plastered on his face.

You're not a good girl, you pant back though your nearly frozen body would say otherwise.

A few more flicks of his tongue and you know he's made you come from your tits as promised.

Jungkook leans back on the his knees. "I really wanna fuck them now." He tugs on a nipple playfully but you slap his hand away.

"Don't even think about it," you say. "They're sore enough".

"You liked it though."

"Well no shit, I came didn't I? Can't believe it," you mumble under your breath. "Anyway, it's your turn now. Take your shirt off," you nearly demand."

"Even after coming, you're still a fiesty little kitten." He brings his arms around his waist. Your core tightens as you watch the white tank top lift up his muscular upper body and over his head.

"Satisfied?" He studies your expressions.

Instinctively, you trace down his sweaty build; starting with the collarbone. You work your way over to his shoulders after until his pecs draw your attention. And then his diaphragm, leading to the ‘v’ outlining his pelvis.

"Take them off too."

Jungkook gives you a pleased look. "Wanna see how average my cock is?"

You move to an upright position, face close to his. "More like wanna see what it can do." You snap the band of his sweats. "Hmm, what'd you think about that playboy?"

Jungkook's cock twitches. He needs to be inside you before he blows a load in his pants here and now. He gets up from the bed, hooks his thumbs in his sweats and pulls them down along with his briefs.

Alarms go off in your head as his half-harden cock is yanked out of it's confinement. It slaps against his abdomen, tip glowing with precum.

Swallowing, you fiddle with your own pants. It's huge and it's going inside you.

"What if I told you I wanna taste you first?"

You pause your movements and peer up at the man. "You mean...down there?"

You wanna slap yourself from how naive you sound but the thought of Jungkook's head between your legs was an affair you'd never predict to happen.

"Yeah pretty girl," Jungkook quips. "There."

"Uhm," you breath, stomach doing somersaults. "Okay."

He settles between your legs this time, panties kicked off in some odd corner of the room. He gives your inner thigh a kiss before running a finger up your slit.

A lusty moan leaves your lips.

He pushes in a moment later, making you gasp for air. Another finger pushes along side it and after a few pumps he's perfectly stimulating your g-spot.

"Jung-Jungkook fuck!" You grip the sheets from under you.

He brings his thumb over your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. "Am I doing it right __?" He's teasing again.

You nod vigorously. "Don't stop...please. Don't you dare stop."

Jungkook hums in approval, low and breathy, but retracts his fingers from your soaking cunt. They're quickly replaced with his tongue however, licking a broad stripe up your folds. The action is repeated over and over until your once again digging your nails into his scalp.

"M' gonna come," you say with a shaky voice.

As if an invitation, he dips in your heat. A string of profanities spill out.

Shit shit shit, you chant as you release on his tongue.

Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs and wipes his mouth off. "You're fucking sexy." He presses a deep kiss on your lips, long and messy. "And you taste sweet too."

"Fuck me," you nearly beg. "And call me a slut while your at it."

"You su–"

"You don't have to use a condom either. I'm on the pill."

"Real–"

"Yes Jungkook."

He shifts back from your body, chest inflating and deflating. "On your hands and knees then."

As soon as the words leave his mouth you flip over, your full backside in his view. Did you feel exposed? Hell yeah. But that's part of the fun.

You turn your head over a shoulder to see Jungkook inching behind you. From this angle you feel so small. You bite your lip, anticipation driving you wild.

"Don't forget what I asked for earlier playboy."

Hovering over your back, his breath tickling your skin. "And what makes you think I'll listen to you pretty girl?" His length brushes between your asscheeks.

You whine.

"Jungkook–"

All at once he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself in. The fullness of the stretch has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're so big," you moan.

"Yeah? You like this," he grunts, starting off a steady pace. "I knew you would." He nips your ear. "Cute how dumb little sluts like you think they know what they want, but really, they don't have a clue."

Your breathe hitches, squeezing around his length. "What about---fuck---assholes like you who decide what others want before asking?"

The bed jolts forward. You cling to all you can to steady yourself.

"It's not really deciding for others if they already want it, is it?" He snaps his hips. "I'm merely helping them, like an asset."

"Shu---god fuck!"

"Deny it all you want but we both know how hard this little pussy's clenching around my big, fat cock. Been wanting this for a while hasn't it?" Beads of sweat drip from Jungkook's brow. His wavy, black locks dangle in front of his eyes.

Helplessly, you start rocking yourself on him, meeting his thrusts in perfect sync.

"Holy shit–" Jungkook groans. "You get me so fucking turned around. Can't even be in a room with me for five minutes before you're clawing for a way out but here you are, desperate to take my cock."

"What can I say," you barely gasp, beyond wound up. "Can't stand arrogant jerks like you."

He snorts. "But you'll sure fuck 'em won't you? Slut."

Walls tightening, knees shaking, it takes only one last hard thrust and you're spasming around him.

Jungkook coaxes you through your high with broken grunts. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm around me. Gonna come pretty girl? Gonna come all over my cock aren't you?"

"Jung---Jungkook!"

"It's okay sweetheart, you can do it. Fucking cream it."

And you do.

With his cock coated with your cum, Jungkook fucks through his own high. "Hang in there __, I'm almost there," he says, thrusts sloppy.

Once he releases into you his body grows limp on yours. A small yelp tells him to slide out and off you.

As you lie next to each other, panting heavily, you're the first to break the silence.

"I think I've proven my point. You gonna shut up about your story now?"

"I don't know which point that would be but sure," Jungkook turns his head to the side with a lazy smirk. "I'll shut up about the story. I have a new one on my mind anyway."

God what have you done. Uncaged the beast, that's what.

A/N: thanks for stopping by, happy to hear your thoughts ☺💗

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts au #bangtanbathhouse #fic:proveittome #kookslastbutton

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velvetures · 8 months

Note

Heya I absolutely adore your writing and I would looove to request something like the “vulnerable” fic you wrote about ghost, but for könig instead. So much fluff and so many praises for our pretty boy, since I feel like he would show us his face but he’d be really anxious and self conscious about it. Feel free to decide if u wanna add nsfw content or not, I’m happy with whatever :))

Touch starved, intimacy craving cod boys will be the death of me 😔

Thank you in advance c:

Defenseless

a/n: so sorry I'm answering this so late, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🩶 this isn't the most in-depth... but I really tried to get the feels of it. summary: The Colonel has been stated as having something up his ass for nearly a week. no tw's that i know of...

The Colonel had been unusually insufferable for over a week at this point.

Barking demands, snarling at everyone in his path, making a total bloodbath out of the one mission assigned to him, and practically punishing all of his men during the two training sessions he’d deemed mandatory. He was on a tirade unlike anything you’d been witness to before, and there was hardly a place to escape from him. That only place being the garage which you had not-so-coincidentally been holed-up in after receiving a vehicle that was for less of better description… utterly fucked. But budget apparently didn’t allow for a replacement, so you’d been sent out to fix the helpless machine.

You didn’t necessarily consider yourself “co-workers” in the normal sense. You didn’t share office memos, or even work in office cubicles that shared a flimsy divider. The majority of your work with him came down to managing the transport to and from the base to their mission insertions. Be it helo or armor-truck, you were licensed and proficient. It gave you one of the most important jobs on base… Transporting the most dangerous men that KORTAC could throw at an enemy. And their massive, intimidating, hooded Colonel was included.

“I heard him chewing into a private’s ass for standing in front of his office door while he was sitting inside… with the door shut.” You overheard one of the mechanics chuckling from underneath of an LUV that had a leaking brake line.

A couple of the other guys joined in the conversation, ignoring your presence for all intensive purposes. You could only imagine that they were doing so simple because of how well attached you were to König in a more personal relationship. It had been nothing but professional and regulatory, but the sight of you lingering around the Colonel for more than absolutely necessary raised plenty of eyebrows around base. It just worked out that you had your entire top half of your body twisted in the engine bay of an MMPV that had taken enough IED damage to need a lot of maintenance and replacements. A pain in the ass you had been fussing over for hours just today; not even thinking about the fact that you’d been engrossed in the job for nearly a week.

“What’d you think Major?” One of the men calling out to you brought your attention away from a replacement coil-on-plug system sitting in a box, not touched yet on the wheel well to your right.

“About what?” You feign interest, not wanting to be caught listening in on conversation.

“The Colonel,” He clarified. “You seen whatever it is that has a stick up his ass sideways?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t make a habit of checking the Colonel’s asshole…” If it’s not clear in your tone that you’re quite finished with the conversation, he doesn’t take notice.

“You’re pretty close with him aren’t you? Can’t you put in a good word for everyone on base… he’s practically frothing at the mouth!”

“I’m not a damn veterinarian either, Johns.” You warn, losing a bit of your patience.

It was one thing for König to swing his weight around like they were suggesting… it was another for him to have been struggling with something far more stressful than normal. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time a soldier took out frustration of the job on his fellow officers. Especially if he got a reality check that displayed just how fragile the system really was in times of actual strain. Not that you’d even had the chance to see him since this “tirade” began, but you could only imagine that something more than the obvious was going on behind that bleach-stained hood over his head.

Girly gossip from the small group of mechanics went on long into the evening. Theories stretching from a mission gone bad to some kind of personal insult from a superior. While the solutions to his “problem” oftentimes resulted in some kind of reference to his sex life being dry, or outright nonexistent. It all sounded ridiculous to you between cranks of your socket wrench or the occasional shrill of an impact drill.

Thankfully you could shut out the sounds for the most part, but by the time you’d found a decent stopping place, the sky outside the hangar had blackened for the night and the temperature dropped far enough that your breath misted in front of your face. It was plenty late enough to head back to your quarters and get enough sleep before being right back under the hood at first light without feeling totally miserable. You didn’t expect to run into the Colonel on your way back to your room.

From the way he walked alone, you could tell that he was exhausted. The toes of his boots skimming the ground a little more than normal, as well as the slight hunch is his typically unforgiving posture. König looked like he’d had his ass kicked before being asked to dig his own grave and crawl out of it. Hearing everyone complaining about his sour mood made even more sense than before, and you couldn’t blame him for sharing around the misery. Besides, he was one of the highest-ranking people on base… it was his reluctant responsibility to deal with people almost every second of the day.

He deserved a damn break…

“Hey! Colonel!” You called out just loud enough to make him stop. Begin careful enough to not just call him by his first time in the case that someone was listening in. His head snapped in your direction and he stiffened for a moment before recognizing you in the dark shadows of the night and parking lot lamps.

“Major…”

Chills rose on your skin hearing his roughened voice rolling your title off his tongue. He wasn’t the slightest aggressive, and you couldn’t quite decide if he was just sparing you his anger, or just worn himself down too much to care. You jog the distance between you, feeling some tension in your lower back from being bent over that damn truck all day. Hopefully it wouldn’t make König’s notice… he was always very particular about injuries or overuse with his direct-connection officers.

“Wie war dein Tag?” His eyes crinkle at the corners like he’s smiling under his hood.

At least that’s what you imagine he’s doing.

“It was alright,” You nod giving him a smile. “Working on your MMPV. It’s in a hell of a state, and I’m not sure I can fix her.” You mutter a bit quieter, mind drifting to the vehicle and the limited amount of actual repairs you could do without needing some additional parts or funding allotted for the repairs. König seemed to pick up on it for a moment, but he also ended up having half of his mind somewhere else for the time being.

“I understand…” You couldn’t be sure if he meant simple exhaustion or a shared feeling of being much in the same state as your armored car. “I’m certain with your attention, it will do more than survive the blow.”

You giggle softly, resting your hands on your hips and digging your thumbs into your lower back as nonchalantly as possible to hide the way your digits pressed and rubbed at the immense pressure building right above your hipbones. Your shared mental and physical abuse wasn’t the slightest bit new. It always felt like when you got to see König for any respectable amount of time something was wrong with one or both of you. Normally, it made for plenty of good jokes and light teasing. A good one didn’t come to mind, and the Colonel didn’t appear in the mood for banter either. Really, his voice didn’t even sound like it wanted to be present. Fading in and out of gravelly and growled tones between German-accented syllables.

“Are you retiring for the night?” His blonde eyebrow raised up above the ripped eyehole of his mask. You spared a glance at the roof which shielded your quarters from the elements. Damn near two-hundred yards away, as well. You hated thinking about the walk.

“Yeah, I figure I should head that way. It’ll take me fifteen minutes to get there if I don’t drag myself across the concrete like I want to.”

König chuckles lowly, bringing another smile to your face. You hoped it was a decent relief from what was bothering him so badly to make base feel like a war zone. The thought of being his first sign of something positive in days only intensified your joy of the thought. He takes his own glance in the direction of your rooms and then looks back to you with something of an appraising edge. Even scanning the immediate area for good measure before visibly losing some of the façade hiding his exhaustion.

“Drill in the morning?” He asks quieter, nodding his head for you to follow alongside him.

“No. Just working on that damn truck…” He chuckles again, giving you a softer look out of the corner of his eye.

“You can always stay with me,” He says quite a bit more offhanded than the offer really was.

There was no fucking way regulation would stand for it even if it was nothing more than a platonic pajama party. The mere thought of “the Major” and “the Colonel” being spotted leaving the same bedroom after a night alone would have them both court-martialed and discharged. Yet König handed out the offer easier than he could hand out candy to small children on Halloween. It spun you for a loop. Resulting in your feet welding themselves to the ground and your eyes widening as you turn to look up at him in question as to if you’d actually heard him correctly.

“Stay with you… stay… like, overnight?” The sentence alone felt so forbidden yet enticing in your mouth. König shrugs. A little more of his tension developing in his shoulders as you visibly see himself second-guessing such an intimate thing quite randomly.

“It was just an offer, Major.” He clarifies. “My quarters are much closer to your garage… and I’ve got everything you might need for one night away from your own bed.” He added with a soothing kind of tone.

But it left you just as anticipatory. He wasn’t this forward. At least, not in such a personal way. He didn’t phrase things this… domestic, directly and he sure as hell hadn’t ever thought to try it on you above all others. There was something more to this, and it wasn’t just due to the distance to your own quarters compared to his. A benefit for him lingered somewhere just below the surface of truth he’d been willing to speak about. Naturally, you weren’t about to take the first step in pushing him. So instead, you took the choice of playing the long game and allowing him to take the lead.

He is your superior officer, after all.

“You know… I might just take you up on those amenities, Colonel.”

His eyes crinkle again, giving you a second opportunity to wonder what his pretty mouth must look like when he smiles.

“If you stay, my rank stays outside. I don’t prefer answering to a title in my own home.” His low voice rumbles with an affectionate tone. One that makes you nod your head automatically, like he’d whispered some spell over you.

“Of course, sir.”

His quarters weren’t what you expected.

Instead of the typical grey walls and standard furniture, he’d went about the process of either collecting some more personal things or brought them from wherever he’d lived before now. The bed was actually massive, swallowing your position that a king size bed was more than large enough. The four posts around it had been stained a dark, ash kind of color over heavily grained wood. A desk sat over against the wall underneath of the one window in the room and while it was stained the same color, carved designs on the drawers and feet were different from the bed frame style. The walls were void of any pictures or art, bit there was enough personal touches scattered around that it pieced together a bit more of the mystery behind the Colonel’s personal life.

“It’s really nice,” Your compliment falls into the room softly, almost like you’re attempting to keep the atmosphere untouched by your presence. “Where’d you get all of your things from?” It wasn’t until after asking that you realized it might be too personal of a question considering his attitude.

He looked around and shrugged. “Antique stores,” He ran a gloved hand over the top of a nightstand next to him. “I liked the idea of fixing things… and I had the knowledge of how to do it.” Your insides twisted in interest at the idea of König being well-versed in woodworking. Images of the massive man knelt down with sandpaper and reaching the smallest nooks in the carved wood. Meticulous. Unwilling to take a shortcut… it made more sense the longer you thought about it. He walked up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders gently, letting out a deep breath.

“I didn’t… invite you here just for convenience.” He admitted a bit shyly, fingers twitching to squeeze your shoulders just a little harder.

Ah, there it is…

“What did you let me in for?” You reply, turning to look over your shoulder and up at him with a friendly little smile. “Because I know it wasn’t for chocolates on the pillows and breakfast in bed when I wake up.”

Those big, dark, eyes glittered a little. Framing just a small bit of humor in an otherwise dark, painted and highly guarded expression in a well-defended man. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place. Hs ability to find some softness in an otherwise harsh and cruel world of voluntary service to country. A damn shame he’d found this world instead of another one that would be more welcoming… less bloody… but then again. You’d also found this world too, even if it was your pathway to simple drive into warzones instead of running into them with a rifle and a desire to be the last man standing.

“I need some… help.” He could see the question and concern on your face, but instead of even uttering a single word, he just moves away from you and sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes polarize away from you and down to the gloves that he began struggling to get off with slightly trembling hands.

You debated. Tossing around so many ideas in your head that you began dropping them. Juggling too many problems and possible solutions all at once. Hoping that he would speak up, or give you some sort of help. König wasn’t the best talker. Never had been really, but often he’d give away something that let you in on the issues in his mind. He was a stone wall tonight. Sitting like a marble statue with nothing more than softened eyes looking away from you with a palpable desire for help; yet no ability within himself to say how. The first thing you didn’t like was that he still had on all of that gear. Between the flak jacket with all of his spare mags, the helmet, steel-toed boots, multiple holsters and a slew of other things, there was far too much on him for you to get close enough to finding a crack in that armor.

“Can I?” Stepping closer, and pointing towards his helmet you ask gently, testing his comfort. He just nods, not even willing to look up at you to check what you were even wanting to do.

You unbuckle it carefully, not wanting to tug on his hood and sit it down next to him on the bed. But right as you sit it down, you see him reach up and tug the material off to drop it down inside the helmet. His blonde hair is a mess. A bit sweaty and matted down from a days work, it falls over his forehead and down to his nose. It softens the stark color of black face paint smeared over the whole top half of his face. The process of breaking down the soldier piece-by-piece takes less than five minutes, and that even included a small fight over whether or not you should be allowed to take off his boots due to how “demeaning” he felt it would look to have you kneel down in front of him like that. Thoughtful as you found the idea, you still pointed out he was your superior officer and it only made sense that you take care of the “unimportant” tasks for him. What you really didn’t know what that he watched you unlace his boots with every intention of letting you know that it felt even more intimate than letting you be one of the few people who could see his face in typical circumstances.

“That’s better… right?” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair to try and unstick the hair stuck together with sweat.

He nods. “Ja, viel besser.”

You smile at his German, sitting down next to him close enough that your thigh presses against his and your shoulder rests tightly next to him. “How about you take shower? I think washing off the day might help out a bit.”

König shakes his head no and quickly decides on a better idea. One that ends up with you laying flat on your back and a 6’10 man laying with his head on your stomach and his body nestled between your legs. His arms stay bent by his sides, resting weight on his elbows to resist laying his entire weight on you but his hands palm both sides of your ribs intentionally. His fingertips pressing between the dips of your ribs and the warm exhale of his breaths fanning against your stomach. It feels uncommonly desperate. Sensing the undeniable behavior of a man needing touch. Closeness from another human instead of the victory of a battle alone, or the knowledge that he’d lived another day without dying a horrible death. That thought alone has you wrapping your arms around his head and holding him tightly. Cradling him as well as you can to make him feel safe and protected even though his feet are hanging off the bed. Your heart pinches in regret that you’d not thought of coming to see him sooner. At least defending him in front of the others who’d been hellbent on making him out to be an asshole for having such a rough week.

Fuck.

He’d almost groveled like a puppy on its belly for you to touch him.

“You smell like cinnamon,” He mutters with his mouth slurred in the extra fabric of your shirt. “I like that… reminds me of my mother’s cinnamon rolls.” The memory is audible; softening his words and making that German accent thicker with exhaustion and comfort of being wrapped up in your arms.

You giggle very softly, pushing his hair off his face. “I’m surprised I don’t smell like grease.”

“Nein… du riechst wie zu hause.” His reply is gravelly and warm.

You close your eyes and settle back against the bed. “You know I don’t know German well enough to understand that…” He laughed softly, squeezing your sides with his massive hands.

“Do you think I’m not aware?” A laugh escaped you and as a retaliation you tapped the top of his head in a small, soft, shun. “I like saying things to you in German… it makes saying the truth easier sometimes.”

When his hands slid further under your body to fully encompass your waist, he buried his nose into your stomach and took a deep, relaxed breath. Nuzzling tighter into you and rubbing his face into your shirt like he was attempting to rub his scent and face paint off on your shirt. Neither option sounded the least bit bad. Wishing that he would fully immerse himself in you if it would make him feel better. Ease that misery festering in the back of his mind. Beginning to settle in, you started running your fingertips up and down his back. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt as you went, and tracing out the defined lines on his shoulder blades and rippled lats stretching over his ribs. Each pass either smoothing the pads of your fingertips, or giving him a slight scratch with blunted nails. Earning some German mutters and contented grumbles vibrating against your stomach.

“Du kilngst… wie ein… bär.” Your German feels quite juvenile, but König’s short huff of amusement gives you enough satisfaction that the lighthearted jab had reached him. He nips at your hip with his teeth, making you jump in surprise and giggle nervously.

“Isn’t there a saying… ‘don’t poke the bear?’.”

“I thought you were a King, not a bear?”

He shakes his head, a little slow on a comeback. “Either way, I’ll prove my dominance.”

You chuckle softly. “Don’t bother, I’m more than content to stay just like this.” You hum, returning to the smooth up and down movement of your hands on his wide expanse of a back.

“I’m happy to stay like this as well,” He mutters, stretching out a bit more. “However, I don’t like where you are.” Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly, you freeze for a moment.

“I can move if you’d like?”

Suddenly a bit nervous that you’d not been playing this situation properly. He shifts a bit, putting more weight back onto his knees with a small grunt before snatching you up far enough to roll you onto your side and settle himself behind you as if you weren’t any bigger than a teddy bear meant for pure comfort and warmth. A muscled and tattooed arm vicegrips your chest and the other arm slides under your head to prop up your head. Instantly turning the role of comfort you’d been happy to provide into a much different situation.

“Can’t do much laying like this.” You protest a bit, attempting to turn over to face him so you can at least return to touching him.

“No, you fit right… shaped to me.” He slurs; tightened his grip and shook his head, resting his nose right in the crook of your neck. One hand slides under your shirt and reaches up far enough to rest his forearm against your chest and make a half-collar around your neck with his hand. He feels hot to the touch, and while you would’ve shied away from any other man touching you in such a way, König doing it felt right. As if there was something connecting you to him other than a simple recognition of the desire for a human connection that wasn’t painful. A different kind of dominance, creating a safe place for himself, but also for you in the way the curve of his hand fit right at the base of your throat.

“Touching you like this… it makes me feel more powerful than any firefight I’ve won.” He states, further resting his upper body against your back. “Like all of the mistakes i’ve made were worth making; just so I could have a moment to feel invincible laying in my own bed.”

It’s deep. Touching. Reaching right down into the bottom of your soul and wrenching it with an iron-grip so warm that you feel a heat rise in your throat.

“That sounds like something you should tell a woman you love, not just me.” You whisper, sliding your own hand under your shirt to hold his hand.

As if he could, he attempts to pull you tighter against him.

“I just did.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

#könig #könig x reader #kortac #konig mw2 #konig cod #anon ask #anon answered #anon <3 #velvetures #velvetures writes #anon request

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