Tumgik
#this was just a goofy thought but I enjoyed the prompt
lets-try-some-writing · 5 months
Note
Brainrot and possibly crack-ish thought that I spent too much time thinking about: The Forge of Solus works a bit too well, and now everyone who has been a Prime has been revived. The Fallen, who through some miracle, also ends up on Earth and dragged into family shenanigans. In short, pure chaos with all the Primes.
Heck yeah, this could go a thousand and one ways and I could even make it angsty if I try. I love this.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙
Optimus had not expected to be saved. He was dying and he had largely accepted that fact as the Allspark welcomed him. However when the Forge of Solus Prime repaired him, he felt something else be dragged along back to his fallen form along with him. He was not sure what it was when he woke in his new frame, but something felt... off. He did not question when he flew to Darkmount and collected his team after driving his foe back, but once his team was settled in Hanger E, he was absolutely certain there was something wrong. Ratchet already wanted to do a scan on Optimus after his near death, but when the Prime came to him in minor terror, the medic all but tripped over himself to get scans completed.
The team ended up gathering around to watch as Optimus had his scans taken, and they were all shocked and in awe at what they saw.
Within Optimus's spark chamber were fifteen small sparks, each fluttering around Optimus's lovingly. They were tiny, still developing, and yet had none of the unsettled energy of sparks in need of a host. It was... unsettling for Optimus, largely because he never felt any spark ignite within him, nor had he taken on the role of surrogate for a mech waiting on a frame to inhabit. He knew the Matrix had creation capabilities, but he had not at all expected it to be so extreme. Ratchet chalked it up to the Forge possibly causing the Matrix to use some of its power to ignite newsparks, but deep down Ratchet, Optimus, and the rest of the team did not believe that at all. Sparks do not come from nothing, nor do they come from a frame transfer totally stable. The newsparks within Optimus were far too controlled and powerful to be the result of the Matrix, at least in theory.
There was brief discussion of extinguishing the newsparks, but that idea was shut down the moment Optimus registered familiarity amongst the lives that orbited his own. He did not understand entirely, but they felt like family. And so the Prime opted to keep them, but to the dismay of Ratchet and the combined confliction of the team. Ultra Magnus was ready to accept the young without a moment's hesitation. Their people were lacking in numbers as it was, they needed every life they could to ensure their kind did not join countless others in extinction. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack were largely neutral, if a little worried about getting enough energon for fifteen new lives. Smokescreen and Bumblebee were elated at the prospect, if concerned over taking care of more young bots in such a dangerous situation. Ratchet refused to state his opinion and focused on making sure Optimus got enough energon to support himself and his charges.
Things went well enough for a few months after the matter. The children were not alerted to Optimus's state and only commented on the situation when they noticed the team taking more hits for the Prime than usual. But with time, the newsparks grew more demanding and needed frames. In turn, since there were no protoforms to be collected, Optimus needed more energon to prepare to make protoforms himself.
That was when things got tight. Optimus needed more, regardless of his stance on the matter. The team needed to find more energon for him and continue the fight. Rations grew smaller and Optimus grew more and more agitated with receiving greater quantities. Just as things were reaching a breaking point however, something unusual happened. Optimus grew mad with the team for their offering of more energon. He could see that they were tired and he knew the limits of his frame. He could go a few cycles without, especially with how strong the newsparks were. There was debate and anger over the situation, leading an argument that ultimately ended with Optimus emitting an EM field flare that synced up with a pulse from his spark. It didn't seem to do anything at first. The team were startled, but that was all.
Then, two weeks after the fact, an object of Cybertronian origin came careening into Earth's atmosphere, landing in the middle of Alaska of all places. The team quickly hurried to investigate and were promptly met by a mech who towered over all of them, even gaining a solid head on Optimus when he came through. Covered in black and red accented plating, the mech wielded a deadly looking blaster and vaguely reminded the team of Megatron. He bore no factional marks, he carried no sign of any allegiance, but after a while of standing and staring, the mech spoke.
"Thirteen, I sensed your distress... along with the calls of our kin. Where are Solus and the others? I know they are near."
It took a long klik for Optimus to figure it out while the team reeled, but once it settled, he almost choked in pure shock. Megatronus, the Fallen Prime stood before him and evidently believed that Optimus somehow had the other original Primes with him. There was a great deal to unpack in his singular statement, but Optimus did not deny the Fallen access to Hangar E to explain. The team were given to explanation as to who the Fallen was and were only given the name of Megatronus to work with. But it did not take long for things to make sense as the Fallen Prime spoke with the current Matrix bearer.
"You carry them within you? Fifteen sparks... it should not be possible." "And yet it is. I did not know they were Primes, but they felt familiar."
"They will need frames, and you do not have enough energon to produce them."
"Yes, but we are doing what we can-"
"You require protomatter and energon. There is no need to play with words Thirteen."
"Then you are correct."
"I will get you what is required for their survival. In turn, I wish to play a part in Solus's development in order to... make up for my prior mistakes."
"..."
"..."
"That is acceptable."
Confusion radiated from all of the Autobots as the Fallen nodded like nothing happened and promptly fragged off again, not to be seen for another three months while Optimus patiently waited and explained exactly nothing. But of course, not being fools the team started to put things together. Ultra Magnus worked with Bulkhead to create a conspiracy board while the rest of the team collectively tried to not think about the deeper implications of Optimus being called 'Thirteen' and supposedly 'carrying all of them within himself'. So when the Fallen returned with stupid amounts of energon and surprisingly healthy amounts of protomatter, the team opted to not look a gift horse in the mouth, especially considering Optimus seemed calm.
The team shut up and watched as soon enough, Optimus had his fill of energon, received protomatter injections, and within two additional weeks, vanished into his room and did not emerge. The team hovered around nervously for days on end while the Fallen watched human TV shows without a care in the world. It went on for about a week, with Ratchet nearly busting down the door in fear for his leader before Optimus quietly stepped out of his room with plenty of small sparklings in his arms and on his frame.
Ratchet: Optimus, what are those?
Optimus: These are my sparklings. Nominus, Nova, Guardian, Sentinel, Solus, Prima, Quintus, Vector, Micronus, Amalgemous, Nexus, Alchemist, Onyx, Alpha Trion, and Liege Maximo.
Arcee: Sir with all due respect, what the absolute frag-?!
Megatronus: Finally. Now let me see the reincarnation of my beloved.
Fifteen small sparklings, each looking startlingly similar to their namesakes all clung to Optimus as if he were a jungle gym. the Prime simply smiled with all the patience in the world and offered up the one who carried Solus's name with a happy sound. Fifteen sparklings, fifteen sparklings who looked like fallen Primes of times long gone by.
There was no way this was going to end well.
159 notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
Note
who's your favorite character to draw? (doesn't have to be only mdzs characters)
Tumblr media
I'd have to go with...Little Apple and Wei Wuxian!
343 notes · View notes
skzdarlings · 3 months
Note
Chan with ❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜
summary: your husband is a university professor. when you sit in on one of his lectures, it gives both of you an idea...
Tumblr media
pairing: bang chan/reader content info: husband!chan, kinky professor/student roleplay, though reader is his wife and not actually a student. dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading language (stupid, dumb, slut). corruption kink, power dynamics kink. explicit sexual content. word count: 2380 words.
part of the valentine's day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy! <3
-
Chan is giving a lecture when you reach the university.   You kill some time and grab a coffee, ambling around campus and idling in corridors until your wandering leads you to his hall.  The main doors are propped open, likely for air circulation with the spring heat, and you smile at his voice spilling into the hallway. 
It is a big lecture hall.  He is teaching a beginner level so the class is substantially large, a couple hundred freshman packed inside.  No one will notice an extra presence.  There are a few empty seats scattered across the back row so you slip inside and quietly take one. 
You like seeing Chan in his element.  Your husband is something of a chameleon, spending his down time in hoodies and baseball caps, listening to music and giggling at his own goofy jokes.  You almost forget his professional side, his prestigious and academic character.  He loves his research and his work and his students and it shows in every remark and gesticulation.  
You adore him.  His passion and intelligence never cease to amaze you.
Though right now your loving attention strays to his appearance.  You must admit: your husband is a hottie.  You suspect the tittering co-eds in the first few rows are not as interested in statistical analysis as their rapt attention might suggest.
Professor Bang Chan stands at the front of the hall, dressed down to his shirtsleeves.  His suit jacket has been tossed over the desk.  His pants are pressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but his neat black hair is just this side of dishevelled, like he has been running his fingers through it. 
You slouch in your seat and smile a cheesy smile as you watch him work. 
He looks around the hall as he lectures, attentive to every student.   In his perusal, his eyes skim the back row.  They stop on you.   
“And that’s why we, uh, ah…” He stumbles so noticeably that a few heads turn to see what caught his eye.   He laughs and waves, drawing their attention again.  “Sorry, sorry, as I was saying…”    
Your smile only widens.  There is a little flutter in your heart as your husband looks at you with a glimmer in his eye.  You rest your head on your fist and watch the rest of the lecture without any interruption.  
You stay seated when it ends and the students file out.  Chan lingers by his desk to sort his papers.  You just admire him for a moment, then you make your way down the aisle.  He lifts his head, smiling at you.
“Hey, stranger,” he says, shrugging on his jacket.  “You’re early.” 
“Yeah, I thought traffic would be worse.”  
“Hungry?”
“Definitely, Professor,” you say.  Your original plans were dinner, but you lift an eyebrow while smirking, suggesting a different kind of hunger entirely. 
It makes him laugh, a nervous sort of laugh.  You are charmed by the tips of his ears turning red, a testament to your ability to fluster your man well into your marriage. 
“What’s wrong, Professor?” you ask, reaching up to touch his face.   “Aren’t you hungry too?”
He stares back at you for a moment.  His gaze is resolute despite his faint blush.  You cannot help your delight. 
“Ooh,” you say.  “Do you like it when I call you Professor, Professor?”
He finally takes your hand and lowers it. 
“I’m a professional,” is what he says, which is definitely not an answer to the question you asked.  He kisses your cheek before you can protest his reply, then he winks and grabs his bag.  “Come on,” he says, “I just have to put some stuff in my office.  Then we’ll go grab dinner.” 
You suspend your teasing for the time being, talking about your day as you cross campus in the sunshine.  You take the stairs up to the office floor, winding around the labyrinthine assembly of empty offices.  It is quite late in the afternoon, plenty of people seemingly packed up and gone for the day. 
He unlocks his office and lets you both in.  While he goes to his desk to sort his stuff, you close and lock the door.  He does not notice your deliberate movements, still talking about mundane nothings.  You do love your endless conversations, whether casual or important, but right now you are less preoccupied with Channie than Professor Chan.  There is something about seeing your husband like this, smart, competent, confident, and so in charge of his space. 
“Baby girl?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at your slow, slinky approach.  “What’s up?” 
You circle the desk and lay a hand on his chest, smoothing your palm down his lapel.  You swear his eyes somehow darken, narrowing in focus, his whole expression coloured differently than before. 
“What are you doing?” he asks. 
“I know you’re married, Professor,” you say, blinking oh-so innocently at him.  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… it’s just that I… I need…”
He lets you nudge him back onto the desk chair behind him.  He gazes up as you lean over him. 
“Baby,” he says, warningly, but does not move or push your hands away. 
“We’re all alone, Professor,” you say.  “The door is locked.  No one will ever find out.” 
“Ah. Is that right?” he asks, looking like he is on the verge of giggles.  He sighs instead, dropping his chin and shaking his head, playfully disappointed.  With another breath, he lifts his head, and your sweet husband dons a more predatory air.   
He does not even have to say anything, does not even have to touch you.  He just has to look at you with all that desire in his eyes, turning your insides molten.  Every dirty thought is plain in how he checks you out.
“I saw you looking at me in class today,” you say, breathless already.  “Did you think I looked pretty, Professor?”                                         
“I think,” he says, “I was impressed you were sitting there, actually listening for once.”
You open your mouth to retort, but he touches a shushing finger to your lips.  He shakes his head. 
“Nuh-uh,” he says.  “Tell me what you want before I throw you out of my office.”  He cups your jaw, his gaze so clearly centred on your lips. 
“Oh, please, don’t do that,” you say.  “I need you, Professor.  I mean, I need your help.”
“I think you’re beyond help, baby girl,” he says.  He momentarily breaks character to glance at the wall, then he looks at you with a quirked brow.  “We are at my work, maybe we should—”
“I know you,” you reply.  
Because you do.  You and your husband are no strangers to roleplay or kinky fun, your desires and boundaries and safewords known.  Your backside is still tender from a good spanking the night before, just enough to leave you squirming today.  You were pent-up before you even saw Professor Chan administering his lecture.  But now that you have, now that you are here, you cannot let it go.  And given the way he is looking at you, he feels the same way.
“You’ve been hard since I called you Professor in the lecture hall,” you say. 
“Since I saw you sitting in my classroom, actually,” he corrects.  “I could fill in the rest with my own imagination.  Just… looking at you…”  He takes another breath and looks you over.  His gaze is heady.  “God, you just get me going every time, you know that?” 
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say with another smirk.  Then you pout, batting your eyelashes, as you sink to your knees in front of him.  “Please, Professor,” you say.  “I’m begging you.  I need a good grade or else.  I’ll do anything.” 
“Anything,” he says.  “That’s, ah… that’s a bold statement.  Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I am,” you say.  You clasp your hands.  “Anything at all.” 
“You know, a man who is not as nice me could do bad things to you, baby.   A pretty girl like you.  It’s like you want someone to take advantage of you, yeah?”  He cups your jaw and tilts your face up, looking at your mouth thoughtfully, smiling as he circles his thumb over your lips.  “They could be really mean to you,” he says.  “Make you do things you don’t like.  Maybe even hurt you, baby.”
“But you wouldn’t do those things,” you say with a watery sniffle.  “You’re a good professor. I can trust you.”
“Of course you can,” he says.  With his thumb, he tugs your bottom lip down.  It flips back up with a bounce.  “I’ll help you then, if you do what I say.”
“Oh yes, of course, Professor, anything,” you say. You start to stand when he puts a hand on your shoulder. 
“Naw, naw,” he says.  “You stay there for me.”
“On my knees?”  You blink up at him.  “What for?” 
“Tsk.  Baby.  You know what for.”  He pats your head like he would an especially dumb puppy.  “You’re just a pretty face,” he says, “but you’re not that stupid.  You know what you’re good for at least, don’t you?”   
He cups your chin.  Before you can reply, his thumb is forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, staring up at him while sucking diligently. 
“That’s it,” he says, and slides free with a wet little pop.  “Good job.  See?”  He speaks with saccharine sweetness, completely condescending as he pats your cheek.  “You are good at something.”  He unbuttons your shirt with deft swiftness, your breasts already heaving in your low-cut bra when he pushes the material off your shoulders.  He laughs to himself as he says, “It’s just the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb slut, but that’s okay, yeah?” 
“I… I guess…”
“Shh, it’s okay.”  He covers you whole mouth with his hand, tugging you close while he undoes his belt with the other.  “You don’t need to talk,” he says.  “No one needs to hear what you think.  Open your mouth for me.   That’s a good girl.  Come on.  You can take it.” 
With a shuffle, he gets his pants open and partially down, enough to get himself out.  He is already rock hard as he guides you forward, sliding into your waiting mouth.  He grunts with deep, obvious pleasure. 
He lets you take over, sitting back while you suck his cock with expert knowledge of exactly what he likes, when to take him deep, when to lick and suck and swallow.  You stop for a breath and his cock smacks your cheek.  Then suddenly he is standing and taking you with him, wasting no time bending you over his desk. 
“Professor!” you say, pushing your ass out with your theatrically scandalized cry.  “Oh no, sir, I’ve never done this before, please, ahh—”   
He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through all the wet arousal there.  He slides two fingers into you easily, with no resistance at all.  He leans down and laughs against the nape of your neck.
“I find that hard to believe,” he says, fucking you steadily with his hand.  “I think I’m not the only professor you’ve done this for, am I, baby?” 
“Ohh,” is all you manage, out of character and genuinely moaning as he works you towards a quick orgasm.  “Channie, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn, wriggling. 
Your moans turn to pathetic little whimpers when he wraps a strong arm around you, locking you in place as he lines up behind you. 
“What’s that?” he asks, holding you tight.  It stops you from writhing while he pushes his wet dick inside you, inch by slow inch.  “I’m not Channie, am I?” he says.  “What do you call me?  Huh?  Dumb little girl.”  He swats your ass and you yelp, clenching around him.  “Try again,” he says. 
“Oh, Professor,” you say.  Then you cannot help but giggle, recalling his evasion when you teased him in the lecture hall.  The evidence of his desire says it all.  “That really does make you hard,” you laugh, breathlessly, “I can feel you pulsing inside me.”
You squeak when he pushes you down onto the desk, holding your hips as he thrusts into you with more vigour.  Then you are not saying anything, just moaning and riding out every quick snap of his hips.  You are not sure how he manages to find the softest, squishiest, more sensitive place inside you, every time, no matter the place or position, sending you hurtling towards to an orgasm at breakneck speed. 
“Oh, help, Professor, I’m gonna—”
“Me too, baby,” he says.  “All inside you.”
“Ohh, fuck—”  You come with a shuddering convulsion, twitching and clenching, your eyes closed as you pant into the wooden surface of his desk.  Your orgasm ends and he is still fucking you, drawing it out.  Your voice is guttural, low and breathy as you say, “Professor, be careful, we have no protection…”
He lifts you up, arches your back, and covers your mouth.
“I… told… you…”  He punctuates each sound with a hard thrust.  “To… be… quiet…” 
Then he drives into you and stays there, groaning into your neck as he comes and comes.   When his hand drops, you take in a gulp of air, shivering from the aftershocks of pleasure.  You are spilling out of your bra from all the jostling, your skirt in disarray.  You whimper when he pulls out of you, then again when he just covers you back up with your panties.  They are soaked in a second. 
“Maybe, uh,” he says with one of his funny, embarrassed, little giggles.  “Maybe we should stop by home and clean up before we go for dinner.” 
You giggle too, turning around to face him.  You fix your shirt while he tucks himself back into his pants.  He is already blushing and smiling that dimpled smile, looking all sweet and goofy as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out on his desk. 
“Good idea,” you say.  “That’s why you’re the professor.” 
He laughs.  Looking at you fondly, he cups your cheek and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss.    
2K notes · View notes
wooahaes · 8 months
Text
svt - pick-up lines
Tumblr media
pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader
prompt: reader hitting on their partner with pick-up lines. for funsies.
genre: fluff. comedy? this is so silly.
warnings: bad pick-up lines. goofy silly hours teehee!! established relationship in all of these.
daisy’s notes: ive had these plans for a while. this is just me enjoying pick-up lines. theyre so silly goofy sometimes.
Tumblr media
choi seungcheol
“cheollie,” you called out from your end of the couch. he looked up from his phone with a hum, and you kept a straight face. “do you believe in love at first sight?”
to your surprise, he mused over the question for a minute. “what? i don’t know, i think--”
you spoke up over him, trying to quell your urge to laugh: “do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”
and he stared at you, brows furrowing together before it clicked. ah. you must have found pick-up lines online or something. “honey. we’ve been dating for two years. you don’t need to hit on me like this--”
“answer the question, cheollie!”
“no!” he laughed, “if you’re going to hit on me, then do one that makes sense!” 
yoon jeonghan
jeonghan hummed as he focused on cooking dinner... yet he heard the telltale sound of you making your way over, and glanced up. “hi, honey,” he said, before going back to his work. “it’ll only be a little longer--”
“hey. jeonghan.” he could hear the way you’re trying not to crack up over whatever you were about to say. “i hope you know CPR... because you’re taking my breath away.”
he looked up, half-expecting to see you holding your camera up, but instead you’re just smiling like an idiot. at least you’re his idiot, if anything. he gave you the tiniest once-over, before going back to his work. “your hand looks heavy... can i hold it for you?”
and immediately you cringed--something he caught out of the corner of his eye--causing him to laugh.
“you won’t win!” he said, looking at you. “i memorized some the moment i saw you googling them last night!”
“you cheater!” you said through your giggles, making your way over to steal a kiss from him. “ugh, you’re so mean!”
he chuckled against your lips instead. “and you’re still laughing.”
joshua hong
joshua had been doing the dishes when you sidled up to him with this goofy smile on your face. he glanced up for a moment, about to ask why you were smiling so hard all of a sudden, only for you to speak up.
“are you from tennessee--”
“babe. i’m literally from california,” he chuckled.
“no, shh,” you reached up to cover his mouth, “you’re ruining it--”
he chuckled, pulling your hand away, “i know.” and he abandoned his work, turning to you as he laned in. “and i’m gonna keep ruining it--”
“what? no!” you whined, “you’re so mean--just let me finish the line--”
he kissed you anyway, giggling when he felt you smile against his lips. when you started to try to finish the line when he pulled away, he merely kissed you again.
(you weren’t going to finish the line... but you didn’t mind it so much when every attempt was met with a kiss).
wen junhui
jun had been curled up on the couch, a book in his hands when he heard you call out to him.
“jun. junnie.” he looked up to see you approaching, phone in hand. “if i were a cat...” you looked up, smiling hard, “i’d spend all nine lives with you.”
oh no. oh NO. you were CUTE. maybe the pickup line was silly as hell, but you were adorable and it made him start to giggle. he buried his face in his book. “i thought we were past this stage!”
“are you a cat?” you pulled the book down as you crawled over, “because you’re purrrrfect--”
again, he started to giggle over your silly pickup lines. of course you’d pick cat ones. this man had a weakness sometimes and it was cats. the fact that you looked incredibly pleased with yourself only made this worse (or better? jun couldn’t tell which: your joy was great, but how was he supposed to live after this?).
counter attack time. he dived forward, quickly kissing you before breaking into more giggles. “are you happy now?”
with a giggle, you leaned forward, about to kiss him again. “very.”
kwon soonyoung
“soonyoung!”
your boyfriend looked up from where he was getting a drink from the fridge, suddenly caught off guard. did he do something? or... maybe you asked him for something and he was about to forget it? soonyoung could be a little forgetful, and usually you approaching him like this either meant he forgot something, or he did something. slowly, he pushed the fridge close, still staring you down..
“if you were a song,” you said, “you’d be the best single on the album.”
the fridge shut, and he could hear that hiss of it being sealed back as he continued to stare at you. wait. single? “are you breaking up with me?”
“what? no, soonie, i’m hitting on you.”
what the fuck were you talking about...? “honey... we’re already dating.”
“soonyoung--”
“ohh, right,” he twisted the tap of his water bottle. he lifted it to take a sip, pausing long enough to finish the thought, “you’re still bad at flirting.”
“soonyoung!”
he set the bottle aside as he made his way to you, “it’s okay,” he giggled. he reached out, pulling you into his arms. “i still love you and your bad pick-up lines.”
jeon wonwoo
wonwoo had been standing in the middle of the bookstore when you suddenly approached him, giggling. he could see from the twinkle in your eyes that you had something planned, and you reached out, patting his arm with a “hey, hey, wonwoo,” that told him immediately you’d been distracted while looking up the book you were looking for.
“yes?”
“on a scale from one to ten,” you said, “you’re a nine, and i’m the one you need--”
wonwoo blinked at you. “you’re not a one, though.”
immediately, your head shot up as you stared at him, suddenly embarrassed. as you swat at his arm, with a pouty “wonwoooo,” wonwoo giggled at you.
“you’re so cute,” he said. “did you find the book we’re looking for?”
he could see the light bulb over your head as you went wide-eyed, suddenly reminded your mission. “oh, right!”
lee jihoon
“jihoonie?” you called out, immediately getting your boyfriend’s attention as he was comparing two boxes of cereal. “if you were words on a page... you’d be fine print.”
... what the hell? he just stared at you, saying nothing as he tried to figure out what you were doing. was soonyoung around the corner? had you run into him and he pitched this idea...? or maybe it had been vernon. or mingyu. or... honestly, he had a lot of friends who teased him because his face went bright red whenever you teased him.
“if you were a vegetable,” you continued to read off of your phone, “you’d be a cute-cumber.”
this was even more confusing. he could see you were smiling. were you planning something? this had to be a prank. his face kept growing warmer by the second: of course you’d find cute pick-up lines to use on him. you didn’t even do this when the two of you started dating.
“if you were a fruit--”
“why are you hitting on me? we’re already dating.”
you had smiled to yourself again, that twinkle in your eye telling him that you were about to tease him again. yet when you looked up, you saw how red his face was getting. no point in letting this go to waste. “you’d be a fine-apple,” you finished.
and that immediately netted you jihoon whining at you with a quiet “stop, i’m going to die and then you won’t have a boyfriend anymore. do you want me to die?”
(... and of course, that meant you’d hit him with an angel-themed pick-up line minutes later after you found a suitable one.)
lee seokmin
"hey. are you a chicken?”
seokmin looked up from where he was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his social media on this lazy afternoon. he furrowed his brow, thinking over your words again. you knew as well as anyone else that seokmin wasn’t the greatest with stuff like horror movies. he clung to you the entire time you went to a haunted house with him, after all. “i--”
“because you’re im-peck-able.”
he snorted after a moment, already smiling. “ah--really? you’re hitting on me like this?” he paused after a moment. “... aren’t you tired?”
you giggled, “nope! i still have more--”
“because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”
immediately, you yelled before diving forward, burying your face in his shirt. “that’s not fair!”
he laughed, bringing you into his arms as he sat up. “joshua told me that one once,” he giggled, “and i thought i missed my chance to use it on you.”
oh, of course he wanted to use it on you. what a dork. at least he was your dork.
kim mingyu
mingyu had been in the middle of cooking dinner when he heard you come in. he called out to you, asking how your day had gone. you’d made conversation easily enough as you slipped out of your shoes and into your house slippers, making your way into the kitchen. you leaned against the counter, watching him drop long noodles into boiling water.
“gyu.” yet when he merely hummed in response, you called his name again until he looked at you. “are you parents bakers?”
he furrowed his brows. “what? you know what my parents do, we’ve--”
“because you’re a cutie pie.”
he stared at you for a moment, words sinking in before he threw his head back and laughed. the pick-up line wasn’t so funny as much as it was his love for you that made him laugh. mingyu was utterly and entirely endeared to you in every way, and that included laughing at your silly little jokes. before you could even try to say another one, he made his way over to you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.
“you’re so cute,” he giggled.
“it wasn’t that funny, you know,” you wrapped your arms around him. you’d save the other pick-up lines for later.
he squeezed you tight. “it was. because it was yours,” he said, giggling again. “really... i love you. you’re so cute.” he let go of you, stepping back to watch dinner. “dinner should be ready soon, by the way.”
you smiled, leaning against the counter once more. “i almost said something about your cake, you know--”
(which only earned you him yelling, laughing a little as he did so. god, he loved you.)
xu minghao
minghao had called out for you to come in once he heard you knock on the door of his art studio, and he’d nodded to you politely as you came in. without thinking twice, he continued his work, now acutely aware of the audience he had. he didn’t mind working in front of you--he trusted you to know that art was a process and the vision truly came together toward the end.
“hao?” you asked, sounding genuinely confused. “did you do something to my eyes?”
he furrowed his brows, looking over to where you were standing. “no? is something wrong--”
“because i can’t take them off of you.”
immediately, all concern for you evaporated because he saw the way you were smiling, the way you barely concealed your giggles now that he was looking at you. “are you done?”
your smile faltered. “oh. sorry, are you busy? i didn’t mean to--”
he giggled a moment later, so soft and airy. you’d always told him he had a cute laugh. “you don’t have to flirt with me,” he said, beckoning you over. he leaned in, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “i’m already yours.” 
boo seungkwan
seungkwan had been sitting across from you, coffee sitting in front of him, as he scrolled through one of his social media accounts. he’d been looking for a specific post to show you, listening to you ramble on about your day as he searched.
“hey. do you have a name?” you asked all of a sudden, immediately earning a confused look from seungkwan. “or can i just call you mine?”
his nose wrinkled as he gave you this look of disgust. “what? we’re already dating. what are you talking about?” he paused, looking around. “is someone recording this?”
you just giggled, watching him. “did the sun come out? or did you just smile at me?”
seungkwan, who was very much not smiling at you, actually cracked one at that one. “really? should i wait for you to be done?”
“yes.” you glanced back down at your phone, “do you play soccer? because you look like a keeper--”
seungkwan grabbed his coffee, getting up to leave you there. he heard your “hey!” as he walked away, smiling to himself. all too soon, you’d chased after him, taking your hand in his.
“i’m done,” you giggled. “but you are, y’know. a keeper.”
“i know,” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “and i’m yours, too.”
he’d have to find a pick-up line to use on you later, just to give you a taste of your own medicine... you’ll just never see it coming.
chwe vernon
vernon knew you were up to... something. you’d been skulking around, this devious smile on your face as you wandered to and fro, giggling to yourself. at first, he thought this had to be some kind of ‘look at this costume i bought our child’ (your cat) deal, since that had happened before (which was why you owned a sonic the heggehog onesie for said cat). yet you had leaned over the couch, watching him for a moment.
“hey.”
he raised a brow. “hey?”
“if you and i were socks, we’d make a great pair.”
he rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch. “i think we’d have like. a sick pattern, too, actually.”
you pouted slightly, apparently not satisfied with his reaction. “if you were a triangle,” you said, recovering well enough, “you’d be acute one.”
he looked up at you again. “babe, i don’t remember geometry.”
“oh my god.” you buried your face in your hands for a moment. again, you recovered. “hey. what’s it like to be the most gorgeous person in the room?”
“i dunno,” he leans up, “what’s it like?”
you shoved your face into your hands again, letting out a groan as he laughed. this was what you got for leaving your phone open to a page of pick-up lines with a boyfriend who was more than ready to beat you at your own game. he’d only hoped you’d try to hit him with something like that last one.
“vernonnnn,” you drew out his name in a whine. “i hate you.”
he giggled, leaning up to pull one of your hands away from your face, and pressed a kiss against your cheek. “love you too,” he giggled.
lee chan
chan had been standing by the produce when you came back to him with the bread, setting it into your cart. he stood right where you had hoped he would be, looking over sweet potatoes since they were on your grocery list.
“hey. channie.”
he merely hummed in response, setting another sweet potato into the bag.
“if you were a potato,” you nod toward the one in his hand, “you’d be a sweet potato.”
he looked up, a little confused. “okay? thank you?”
“if i could rearrange the alphabet--”
“oh no.”
“--i’d put U and I together.”
chan let out a sigh, a smile breaking out as he hung his head for a minute. he looked at you again, still smiling. “are there more? i’ll wait if there are.”
you just wrapped your arm around his, pressing your side against his. “nope,” you said. “just wanted to see your face.”
he chuckled, shifting just enough that he could comfortably continue gathering sweet potatoes. “you didn’t put these on the list so you could use that line, right?”
“nope,” you hummed. “just seized the opportunity.”
he chuckled. “good to know,” he planted a quick peck on your cheek, still smiling to himself. at least he found you cute.
Tumblr media
taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @synthetickitsune​ @wonuziex​ @gyulbabie​
2K notes · View notes
fxrmuladaydreams · 2 months
Text
little crush (cl16)
Tumblr media
charles x reader
request: hiya lovely could you maybe write something about charles with the subtle romantic gestures prompts? any of them are fine ❤️❤️❤️
wc: 1234
notes: charles, my first f1 love 🤭 this was actually so fun to write, i hope you enjoy it
Charles Leclerc was the Prince of Ferrari, Il Predestinato. He was one of the best drivers on the grid, sought after by almost every team. He had fans swooning for him wherever he went. And yet, he couldn’t get over this tiny little crush on you.
You were a friend of another driver, brought along to a race as a guest. He watched as you wandered the paddock with wide eyes, staring at everything around you. He watched as George threw an arm over your shoulders, steering you to the Mercedes building.
A few people questioned the Ferrari driver’s sudden interest in hanging around the Mercedes area all of a sudden, but all it would take was one look at him with you for everything to become clear.
It was nearly impossible to hide the longing look in his eyes whenever he was near you, and it only became worse when he actually got to know you.
He would often be caught trying to pull you away from the Mercedes garage, setting a bright red cap on your head after tossing away the black one. It wasn’t uncommon for you to willingly follow him to his garage, catching a smirk from his teammate. Even the fans had started to question why George Russell’s friend had suddenly become a frequent Ferrari guest.
You thought your friendship with the Monégasque was blossoming beautifully, but others would tell you otherwise. George’s teasing comments about the smile you couldn’t wipe from your face made you flush. Carlos’ insistence that Charles drives better when you’re in his garage made the Monégasque blush.
Of course Charles had already been aware of his crush on you, he’d had a crush on you before he even knew you, when you were still someone who just passed him by in the paddock. He just hadn’t expected his feelings to grow when he’d gotten to know you.
He didn’t want it to seem like he was taking some sort of claim over you, but he couldn’t help but be moody towards anyone who tried to pull you away from him. He remembers an incident with Pierre, the Frenchman had tried to get your attention, he’d offered to take you to the Alpine garage, to show you the car after you had mentioned liking the pink livery. He’d ended up on the receiving end of a harsh glare from Charles, but that quickly faded from his face when you turned back to him, tugging his hand towards Pierre.
“Let’s go see the car Charlie.” He stumbled after you, his hand still clasped in yours and a goofy smile spread over his face.
As much as you’d hoped the others were right about Charles’ supposed feelings for you, you took everything they said with a grain of salt. Charles was a world famous F1 driver, one of the top athletes in his sport. You were simply a friend of a friend, and he was simply being nice.
You had been looking forward to a dinner coming up that George had invited you to, some of the other drivers and their girlfriends would be there too. You enjoyed getting a look at the extravagant life George lived, and he enjoyed having you there with him.
George and Carmen had picked you up from your hotel, Carmen looking you up and down and fawning over you.
“Charles is going to melt when he sees you!” She says as she loops your arm with hers.
You simply laugh and shake your head.
The restaurant is dimly lit, a waiter guided your group to a back room where the rest of the drivers were. George and Carmen were quickly pulled away by Alex and Lily, leaving you shifting awkwardly on your feet. You felt a little out of place, like you were somewhere you didn’t belong, until your eyes met Charles’ and it all melted away.
He quietly excused himself from the person he was talking to, and took a few quick strides to get to you.
“You look beautiful Y/n.” He says as he pulls you into a hug.
“Thank you Charlie.”
You mingle a bit with the others, Charles' hand never leaving the small of your back, even when he’s talking with someone else.
“He’d been waiting for you to come in ever since he got here.” Lily whispers to you, a smirk on her face.
You end up seated across from Charles at dinner, his eyes rarely leaving yours, and watching you as you laugh at a joke he makes. A proud smile graces his features as he watches you lean into George slightly, hiding your face with a hand.
He’s surprised to feel a foot kick his leg under the table, and turns to see Carlos looking at him. He smiles, and shakes his head.
“You’re funny, but you’re not that funny.”
The rest of dinner goes well, more mingling afterwards, until you slowly feel your social battery draining.
“I think I’m going to head back to the hotel.” You tell George and Carmen.
“We can drive you back.” George starts, reaching for his keys in his pocket.
“It’s alright, I can walk.”
“I’ll walk with you.” Charles is quick to say.
“You don’t have to.” You tell him.
“I want to.” He smiles.
He grabs his jacket from his chair and follows you back outside.
The evening brings a cool breeze, making you shiver slightly. Charles drapes his jacket over your shoulders, shaking his head when you tell him he should wear his jacket.
“I’m fine amour.”
The term of endearment takes you both by surprise. His cheeks color a soft pink, but whether that was his words or the cold air you didn’t know.
You make conversation on the way back to the hotel, smiling to yourself when Charles steps around you so that he’s standing on the edge of the sidewalk.
Your hands brush against his several times, tempting you to interlink your fingers with his. You’ve held hands before, but always as friends, this would be stepping over a line that still seemed foggy to you.
He walks you up to your room, his arm brushing against yours. He looks like he wants to say something but can’t quite get it out.
You stop in front of your room, and slip his jacket off, holding it out to him.
“Thank you Charles.”
He smiles and ducks his head down.
“Did you want to come in for a drink? Before you have to go back to your room?” You ask, taking a chance.
He furrows his brows and fiddles with the jacket in his hands. “I have to walk back to the restaurant to get my car…” he laughs awkwardly.
“Charlie, why-”
“I wanted to spend more time with you, and I had fun. I like being with you.” He shrugs.
You stare at him, Charles Leclerc and his pretty green eyes, and his stupid smile, and you can’t stop yourself from holding his face and pulling it to yours to kiss him.
His hands instantly find themselves resting on your waist, pulling your body against his as he returns your kiss.
He smiles into the kiss, cursing the need to breathe when he has to pull away from you. As you pull him into your hotel room with you, he thanks god that he never got over his massive crush on you.
745 notes · View notes
mechaknight-98 · 2 months
Text
A Train to Busan (NSFW) FT Chaehyun
Tumblr media
Author note: So I remember reading a prompt somewhere about 3 Busty Busan Beauties and this was the first that came to mind probably going to make this a mini-series so stay tuned for more. Shoutout to @leafostuff for the idea
Part II
I grab my ticket to ride the train. I loved trains ever since I was a kid and the super train on Lightspeed Rescue flew into the skies I knew I was hooked (iykyk) so I made a point of taking every “famous train” in the world today trip. A train to Busan Korea. As per usual I get weird looks and glares due to my stature and appearance.
I sit down in my seat enthusiastic and ready to begin the ride. As the train fills up the three seats around me are taken by 3 pretty ladies. In front of me was a Pretty blonde who radiated a happy energy that was almost suffocating, diagonal left a pretty brunette with a smile that curved into a half moon, and directly to the left of me was a smaller brunette with a determined look. They all politely greet me and I reciprocate of course. Their names are Jeewon (in front of me), Hayoung (diagonal Left), and Chaehyun (Direct left)
"Nice to meet you all. My name is Dinovaldo, but everyone calls me Dino"
"Dinopaldo?" Hayoung says cutely. I was going to correct her then I remembered my friend who was also Korean complained about how "Complicated my name was." so I nodded and said,
"Yeah, but call me Dino." Hayoung and Jeewon smile. Chaehyun looks at me with a focused and determined look.
"So what brings you to Busan?" Chaehyun asked as the train moved.
"Oh, I like trains and try to ride as many "famous" ones as I can," I replied. the three girls looked at me surprised but didn't say anything else. Chaehyun let out a chuckle and I went back to enjoying the ride.
A little later Chaehyun asked me, "Hey so where are you from Originally?"
"Um...Portland, Oregon. No, you wouldn't know that... The United States." I answer Chaehyun. She nods and chuckles as do Hayoung and Jeewon.
"What about y'all? Where Y'all from?" I ask
"Oh, we're all from Busan," Jeewon answers confidently. I nod now dialed into the conversation.
"How long are you in Korea for?" Hayoung asks
"Oh, a few weeks for some business in Seoul. I finished yesterday so now my last week I am just enjoying it. You know seeing the rest of the country." I replied. I noticed that Jeewon and Hayoung were starting to warm up to me and being more involved.
"Oh, that's cool," Hayoung said. I gave her a thumbs-up as we continued to chat. I learn a lot about the girls. they were all K-pop idols (whatever that meant) who were going home to visit family and just relax as their schedules had all eased up for the time being. They were all incredibly charming but also kinda dorky in an extremely lovable and endearing way. As we talked I could feel myself being lulled into a state of ease by the three girls. it worried me. They were almost too perfect, too sweet, and too engaging, so I kept my vigilance as I continued to talk to them.
While we rode the train we enjoyed each other's company until Chaehyun (the boldest of the trio) asked, "Hey I noticed you keep looking over your shoulder. Are you worried you are being tricked?" I instantly tensed and then eased again. seeing her pleasant smile
"Yeah, a little it's not often three pretty ladies just come up and talk to me. Especially for so long." I reply.
Jeewon perks up, "Aww thank you. Well, you're cool to talk to. Plus you aren't treating us any different."
"Well, I thought you were all normal ladies," I replied hesitantly
"No," Hayoung says with a cute but also aggressive tone. she takes out her phone and starts playing a video of her performing at Inkigayo along with seven other young ladies. I watched in awe as I could see it was Hayoung but her presence was so different. gone was the goofy girl who sitting across from me the Hayoung I was watching was graceful poised, with an almost deadly sense of presence I had only seen replicated in assassins. it was unnerving but also captivating. when the video finished the other ladies all showed similar videos. Each showed me a bit more about them. Jeewon is super bubbly and happy in her video and Chahyun’s video shows her range. I see a huge range of her personality but it always comes back to the determined look. That look of desire. After that, we hit the third hour of the trip and fatigue began to set in. All of us started to get heavy eyelids and one by one each of us fell asleep. I was the last one and got to see Chaehyun's head fall onto my shoulder as she was talking about how hard being the "unofficial" leader of her group was. I couldn't help but smile at her plight. her pleading eyes but strong voice made me listen and consider her words with the utmost seriousness. something she noted
"you're a really good listener," she said as her eyes fluttered as they got heavier. A telltale sign she was losing the fight with her fatigue.
"Well in my profession being a keen observer is always a requirement," I answer politely
"Oh and what do you do Mr. Mysterious?"
Chaehyun teased
"It's a secret." I teased
"Oh come on please tell me," Chaehyun asked with pleading and endearing aggression
when she did fall asleep I found myself stroking her hair carefully and her grip on me tightened. I smiled content as I watched the window and the picture continue to move and change. Looking at the other two girls I felt a bizarre pang in my heart. One I hadn't felt in a long time. Usually, I shied away from it, but this time I let the pang linger and ferment into emotion, as a smile crept on my face. Soon my eyes felt heavy and I drifted off as well.
I was woken up by a rapid light shaking of my shoulder. My eyes were forced open as I turned to see Chaehyun who lifted the armrest separating us.
"Hey, Hey wake up," she whispered.
"I'm awake. I am awake, but why are we whispering?" I asked
Chaehyun smiled with heavy desire filling her eyes look water, and said "Follow me to the bathroom."
"Why?" I asked dazed and confused.
"I want to show you why I'm the suction expert," she said as she got up leaving her jacket. I follow on instinct and when we enter the bathroom she locks the door. Thankfully the train car we were in was mostly empty and the few people inside were asleep.
when we entered the bathroom in three actions Chaehyun was on her knees. Lock the door undo my belt and spring out my cock.
"Hm, you're still soft. that won't do," she said before taking me into her mouth. I reeled back as the softness of her lips and the warmth wetness of her mouth overwhelmed me leaving me light-headed.
"Go ahead fuck my face," she said
I nod and begin to thrust into her warm wet orifice. her eyes held mine in an intense gaze that left me transfixed as I grabbed her head and thoroughly used her. After six or so thrusts she breaks taps my thigh and I pull back.
"Okay you're going to go," she says as she gets up wiping the drool from her chin before it could stain her shirt. She undid her pants and moved to the side. before she could give further instruction the intercom said
"30 minutes to Busan" I am assuming it said it in other languages as well but I heard English in there as well.
"We don't have much time so you're going to have to be quick. so just pound me, Dino." Chaehyun insists as she lines my cock with her pussy. I slowly ease in and we both moan as her sex sucks mine in whole. it's dizzying, it's hot, and wet but oh my goodness does it feel euphoric. I bottom out inside her and begin to pull out. I get halfway before plunging back into her. I repeat this two or three times increasing the pace until my body begins to override my mind and I begin to plow her in earnest. she leans her body into mine and says, "You're so big inside me." her words act like a spur to a wild buck and make me only rougher with her. I relax my grip on her waist and stroke a finger across her pillow midriff, and I whisper into her ear
"I love how soft your body is." I snake my hand under her shirt as I thrust and cop a feel. they are a lot bigger than her sweater lets on. I get a firm grip on her breasts and say, "These sexy buoyant pillows you try to hide drive me wild. I am going to call you Marshmellow from now on because I am in love with how soft and plush your body is." my words have their desired effect "I think" as I feel her pussy tighten and pulse as she turns her face to mine.
"Fuck, Fuck" she pants as I continue to piston in and out of her. I tweak her nipple and she moans even harder before I feel a rush of liquid come from between our bodies. I look down to see her squirting all over my cock. I look up to see her embarrassed.
"No No baby it's okay," I reassure my slip of the tongue makes her eyes go wide and she questions me
"Babe?" but at that point I am too far gone and begin tumbling into my orgasm with her.
"Aw fuck mello I'm cumming" I say groaning as I begin to explode into her greedy pussy. Chaehyun moans in ecstasy.
After we come down from our high Chaehyun looks at me with a shy look before cleaning herself up and leaving. Also leaving me to clean up our combined fluid mess. I do so, then make sure I look presentable and head back out. I get back to my seat where Jeewon and Hayoung look at me with knowing and teasing smiles. Chaehyun refused to look or speak to me as Hayoung and Jeewon asked me questions about the ride after they slept. Respecting Mello's boundaries I follow her very limited and guarded answers. leaving the two other girls a little miffed. after the train ride was over I grabbed my bags and bid farewell to the ladies. as I was walking away from them on the station. Chaehyun speaks up for the first time.
"Where do you think you're going, Dino? you're hanging out with us for the rest of the time you're here. so cancel whatever plans you had." Her confidence and desire have returned to her stare and I smile.
"Okay." I acquiesced
Tumblr media
428 notes · View notes
lancermylove · 3 months
Text
Drunk (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: Leaders x gn!Reader.
Warning: None
Prompt: They get drunk and try to kiss you. Assume all of them have reached the legal drinking age.
———————————————
Leona
You watched as he drunkenly stumbled over himself, trying to be suave and seductive. However, he looked like a drunk idiot tripping over his feet. His attempt to woo you ended with a sloppy kiss on your forehead before he slumped his body weight on you. With a squeal, you tried to hold him upright, but the two of you fell back on his bed.
You laughed softly and wrapped your arms around him. "What made you get drunk?"
"To tell ya...I love ya." He mumbled, burying his face in your chest. Drunk people speak the truth, right? So, it would be no different with Leona, right? For the rest of the night, you lay wide awake.
Malleus
Malleus would not stop talking, but you were enjoying his slurred rambling. Seeing the way you were looking at him, he felt his heart skip a beat. Was it your look or the amount of alcohol? The prince had no idea but leaned over the table, his movements somewhat erratic.
"(Y/n), you look enchanting," he said, his breath smelling of wine.
Malleus went to capture your lips but stumbled and fell flat on his face. You winced at the sight of his face meeting the wooden table with a thud. How were you going to explain Malleus' red face to Lilia, Silver, and Sebek? It wasn't like you could openly tell them the prince tried to kiss you.
Vil
Vil made his way to the bed with his arm stretched out. Earlier in the day, he had texted you that he was attending a party, but you had not expected him to return home drunk. Chuckling, you held your arms out, ready to embrace him. But instead of hugging you, Vil stumbled towards the tall bedpost and embraced it.
“Uh, Vil?” You chuckled. “I am right here.”
He blinked his eyes and narrowed them to focus on you before returning his gaze to the bedpost. The next moment, Vil started laughing. You watched him slump against the bedpost and laugh. Even after a few minutes, he didn’t stop. Though you had no idea what was so funny, you watched him with an amused smile.
Riddle
Riddle had been eyeing you all evening but didn't want to show you affection in front of his friends. Unbeknownst to him, some of the prankster friends added strong alcohol to his drink. In an hour, he was stumbling all over the place, his vision blurry and his mind unwilling to focus on anything.
But when he saw you sitting with a smile, he stumbled over to you with red cheeks and a goofy grin. Before he could lean in for a kiss, Riddle tripped over the leg of a nearby table and landed face-first in your chest. You stared down at him with wide eyes while Trey and Cater spit out their drinks.
You wondered if you should tell Riddle tomorrow that he had much fun nuzzling his face in your chest while commenting on how warm you felt and how calming your heartbeats were.
Kalim
Kalim stumbled over to you with his arms wide open and lips puckered. He had way too much alcohol and couldn't keep himself standing. The next moment, he fell to the ground, face-planting on the floor; instead of your mouth, Kalim's lips met the cold, hard ground.
You quickly covered your mouth and chuckled at the sight. If only you had your phone, you could have taken a video. A few seconds later, he looked up at you, his lips still puckered. Even in his drunken state, he hoped you would give him a kiss.
Azul
Azul got one too many drinks, and you wondered just how strong the alcohol was to make him this drunk. His motor skills were just as shot as his thinking abilities. But his mind was still able to recognize you, his secret crush. Or he thought it was a secret, but you already knew he liked you.
He looked at you briefly with softness in his unfocused eyes. Azul wobbled close to you with a sheepish grin. He puckered his lips and went to meet yours, but due to this double vision, he went right past you and headbutted into the wall. He groaned loudly, causing you to chuckle at his cute attempt to kiss you.
Idia
Idia rarely drank, so you couldn’t fathom his reason for getting drunk. As your eyes followed him, wobbling towards your bed, you saw him purse his lips. Thinking he wanted a kiss, you prepared yourself to give your boyfriend a big smooch. But just as he attempted to kiss you, he fell face flat onto the mattress. You blinked rapidly and got a little worried when he didn’t move.
“Idia?” You gently shook him.
As soon as he hit the mattress, Idia passed out. You laughed to yourself and watched him sleep with a warm smile, snuggling up close to him.
———————————————
Tumblr media
➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
888 notes · View notes
hungharrington · 1 year
Note
Could I request something from the prompt you reblogged:
“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”
kitchen counters (kisses, and more)
this was hard to think of a sitch! it's a bit weird (?) but also a bit goofy at times, which i love and i hope u love anon! not any warnings needed, it's hot consensual sex except they don't use a condom but we know this is fiction and we should totally use those things irl. ok be safe and enjoy <3 2.8k words. minors do not interact.
It’s a bit of a strange morning, being here in Steve’s kitchen when you haven’t spent the night.
Not for lack of want, mind you. You hadn’t been able to is all, some family event that rolled way too late into the evening. And even though you know Steve would’ve come and picked you up if you asked, even at some point past midnight, you didn’t want to ask that of him. You knew he’d had a long day. Steve tried to insist he’d sleep better with you beside him.
“I don’t want you driving, s’all,” you said into the receiver last night, your tone apologetic. “It’s just, it’s late and you’re tired. I’ll come over in the morning, okay?”
“You promise?” Steve grumbled back. He never was in the chirpiest of moods when he went home to empty sheets. 
“Pinky.” 
And you followed through, driving over as soon as you could after your wake-up. Your own spare key lets you into the house and it’s only mildly surprising to find it quiet. The kitchen is empty, lights off. 
You think of your boyfriend, who must be still asleep upstairs, and take a couple steps up the stairs, and— ah, there it is. The sound of the shower. If you strain your ears, you can hear his faint rendition of a George Michael song. It makes you grin.
You head for the kitchen anyways, flipping on the lights as you go— it’s a bit later than Steve’s usually up but you’re willing to bet that without you there to bug him awake, he’s dozed past his usual alarm.
There are Eggos in the fridge, enough for both of you, and fill the toaster with them, pressing the lever down. You begin brewing the coffee, the scent of it percolating the air and it’s nearly ready by the time you hear Steve coming down the stairs.
He appears in the doorway, shower towel still hung around his shoulders, his chest bare. You automatically dip your gaze to drink up the sight of his chest, a mixture of love and lust competing in your chest. His hair is shaggy and wet. He’s scrubbing the back of it with the towel but he pauses, delighting at the sight of you.
“I thought I heard you,” He smiles easily, and you meet him in the middle when he comes over for a kiss. His hands circle your waist. You press up on your toes and hold his face gently, pressing your sweetest good morning onto his lips. Steve hums. His eyes are still closed when you pull back.
They flutter open and he smiles again, blindingly handsome. “Missed you last night,” he says, pulling you closer by your waist. “And this morning too.”
Your heart sings just a bit, your thumb stroking lovingly across his cheekbone. “I bet you did, handsome.”
Steve raises his brows like he thinks you don’t believe him and his hands slither down, nearing the curve of your ass as suggestiveness creeps in his tone. “Uh huh. Even had a dream about you last night.”
His head ducks into the curve of your neck, lips ghosting along your throat as he continues, voice still husky from his sleep. “Woke up hard.”
His body pressing into you confirms that his high-running hormones haven’t managed to dim in the time between his dream and now — his cock is half-hard, nudging against your thigh. You can’t help the way you shiver when he kisses your neck, wet and warm, and murmurs, “Wanna hear about it?”
He’s a bastard. That’s the first thought in your mind as his kiss turns harsher, suckling at the skin of your neck in a way that weakens your knees — he’s a bastard who knows exactly what he’s doing. Your hands slip from his jaw to his shoulders, clutching them a little tighter. You try to pull yourself together.
“Something tells me you’re gonna tell me anyways.” You remark, a pant already making your words sound a little gaspier.
Damn, he makes you needy. Your head falls back and you let him nibble along your neck, feeling your arousal sparking — and catching fire quick, burning low in your stomach.
“Mm, I could,” Steve replies, between his lovebites. His cock has gotten harder, his hips lightly grinding against you to work it the right way. You keen into his touches. “Or… I could show you?”
Your hands move to tug his face up, out of your neck, and you kiss him, hard. Steve groans appreciatively into the kiss, beginning to walk the two of you backward til his back hits the counter. He uses the leverage to pull you closer, his knee nudging between your thighs — your cunt pulses hotly as you grind down against his thigh, lust licking hot at your spine.
“Mhm, definitely…” Steve starts, words tumbling out between his kisses. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, tongue soothing along after. “Definitely started like this.”
“Oh yeah?” You huff, giving a pleasurable shudder when the seam of your jeans lines up just right, rubbing rough right on your clit. A breathy moan escapes you and pushes into Steve’s lips, sealed in your kiss.
Not breaking his kiss, Steve’s hands grip your hips, his knee nudging higher as he pulls down to grind on him again — another bolt of pleasure pulls a moan from you as you clench around nothing. For a hot minute, you two play this game; Steve dedicating himself to your bottom lip, kisses hot and hands wandering, while you rub against his thigh needily. You reach a breaking point eventually.
“Steve,” you pull back from your sloppy kiss to whine, unsure exactly what you’re asking from him.
Face more flushed than before, Steve eyes you hungrily, lips swollen from your steamy kisses. He pulls your hips forward once again, groaning at the reaction it gets him— another pitiful whine, your hands on his neck flexing.
“God, you’re a fuckin’ angel,” He muses, more to himself. He bites his lower lip and takes a second to compose himself before his fingers take a walk, eyes tracing the path they take along the edge of your jeans. Steve pauses at the button, eyes flicking up to your face, eyebrows raising an inch.
“Take ‘em off?” He asks.
“In the kitchen?” You counter, sounding a bit appalled. Not that you and Steve have ever been restricted to the bedroom, but, well….
The Eggos in the toaster pop right at that moment as if to prove your point. You and Steve's heads both whip to the side to look at it and there's a moment of silence. Steve giggles first and you join in quickly, leaning into him. The noise tapers off and when you look back to Steve, you think about the night you would've had if you hadn't been held back.
You don't owe it to him, but you certainly are eager to find out the contents of his dream.
Stepping back out of his hold, you pull your shirt off swiftly. Next, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off. Your legs prickle in the sudden coolness. You enjoy the wide-eyed boyish joy on Steve's face maybe a bit too much. He clearly wasn't sure he'd convinced you.
“You did say you'd show me what happened in this dream." You say, hooking your thumbs into your panties, like you're about to work them down your legs next. You pause, tilt your head, the fire in your belly fueled by Steve's greedy gaze drinking you in, "Or do you want to be the one to take these off?"
Steve growls, stepping forward and capturing your lips with his. It's fast and messy, his lips taking and taking, hands raking fast across your body as he lets desire run free. One hand kneads at your breast, pinching lightly at the peaking nipple beneath your shirt, stirring up heat within you. The other hand delves down, down, pushes gently into your panties.
A gasp stutters out of you as he runs his middle finger along your slit, gathering the wetness welling from your entrance. The pad of his fingers drags your slick forward, searching for your clit and you're nearly embarrassed by the hiccupy whimpering noise you make when he finds it.
"There?" Steve says, though his finger has already started to circle it, treacherously slow motions. You nod, your hand slipping and grasping his bicep tightly, giving a sweet sigh of pleasure. "Oh, good girl."
The praise sinks into your skin and you can feel yourself getting wetter, another futile clench of your cunt around nothing.
"Y'think you can handle my cock?" Steve murmurs lowly, checking in with you. He meanly speeds up his soft rubs on your clit as he asks, nearly making it impossible to answer for a minute, but you manage another nod, swallowing your noises for a moment.
"Yes," You say, voice nearly a whisper. Your breathing comes out in soft little pants, chest heaving. "Yes, yes, please, Steve."
Steve hums, pulling his hand from your panties and reaching for his own pants, the buckle clinking as he undoes his belt clumsily. His jeans pool at his ankles, kicked off in the direction of your own, and for a moment, it makes you laugh — two pairs of crumpled jeans on your kitchen floor all because of Steve's horny sleeping brain.
"So," you say, glancing for a moment at his tenting boxers. It makes you salivate just a bit. "How do you want me? How did the dream go?"
You emphasize the word dream, bending over to rest your forearms on one of the counters, sticking your ass out behind you tantalizingly. Steve's eyes stare intensely, chest rising and falling as he steps closer — his hands fall onto your lower back, dragging down lightly, til his fingertips curl under the elastic of your panties.
"Mhmm," He drags them further, revealing the swell of your ass and hot cunt and releasing a resounding groan of appreciation. He sounds breathless when he says, "Just... fuck, just like this."
Your panties gather round your ankles and you step out of them. Behind you, you can hear the sound of his boxers dropping, one warm hand leaving your skin for just a second. It's back in an instant, both his hands shifting down again, spreading your cunt wide for him.
Steve lets out another raspy groan, one of his thumbs coming down to play in the well of slickness building at your hole — your head tips forward with a shaky pleasured sigh of relief.
"Oh, so wet for me already." He says, bordering a tease. You resist the urge to wriggle your hips, to push back and see if he'll relent and touch you more. "Already so messy, huh?"
His light tone of mock twines up your desire and tugs it harshly, your cunt clenching with a whine so loud you nearly don’t hear his chuckle. You're nearly dizzy with relief when the next touch is his cock, nudging against your hot entrance lightly. One hand holds your hip.
Steve goes easy, sinking into you tortuously slow til his thighs meet the back of yours, a sighing moan scraping out his throat as he does. You keen, a strained mewl pushing out your throat as you get filled— so full it aches deliciously, aches for more.
“Ste— fuck,” His name is stolen from your mouth in a gasp, your hands gripping the counter as he pulls his hips back slow, the drag so so fucking delectable. Shit.
Steve rolls his hips forward, pushing back in gently and he pauses again, giving you a moment — even as you tremble and huff out high little noises, clearly enjoying yourself. Warmth spreads across your back as he leans over, pressing himself against your back and his cock further in. There’s a soft kiss on your spine, then another.
“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, breath fanning across your back. He gives another leisurely roll of his hips, a gentle fuck into your heat. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as your cunt clamps down on him. Another whiney noise passes your lips, heat curling up tight in your lower tummy. “Fuck, s’like you’re made for me. Like this pussy was just made for me.”
“Stevie,” you plead, managing to get the word out this time. There’s another ghost of his lips along your skin, then his arm shifts, wriggling under your tummy. He scoops it around your middle, hand pushing up between your breasts to rest on your sternum. Still folded atop you, Steve finally begins to move, hips pumping his cock in and out, faster and faster.
You squeal, body humming like a livewire as Steve finally fucks you, the soft squelch of your cunt sucking him in filling the kitchen. Steve’s chest burns hotly where it’s pressed to your back and you can hear every grunt that pairs with the snap of his hips, his hand on your hip and his arm under you pulling you back to meet every thrust.
Your eyes slip closed, little uh, uh, uh’s coming from your pretty mouth mixed with whimpers of Steve’s name. You’re stretched up on your toes, trying to get the angle that only Steve has ever found. Your core is burning with desire, a throbbing growing in your clit.
“You’re- shit, you’re better than a dream, sweetheart.” Steve grunts, hips never slowing his motions. The stretch of his cock has gone by now but the shape of his hard cock feels like he’s moulding your insides — and you love it.
“Nothing beats this pussy, mm. Nothing,” He drags out the word with a groan, breath coming out in hot pants against your back. “Beats fucking my girl.”
You’re nodding, beginning to feel too fucked out to even think of words. Steve’s hand shifts your hips up and you know he’s looking for that spot inside you— because you can feel his grin against your spine when you whine loudly when the head of his cock finds it.
“Oh, is that the spot?” Steve asks, voice dripping in condescension. You nod frantically. He starts to bully it with his cock, every fast thrust hitting it over and over, til nothing but the melted words of more and please leave your mouth in a drooling ramble. You’re whimpering and whining, cunt drooling all over his cock, down your thighs.
“That’s it, honey.” The words come out a bit choppy like Steve’s own orgasm was rearing its head and his hand moves off your hip — deftly finding your clit. You make a pathetic moan of his name as he circles it harshly, quick circles with the pads of his fingers.
“Fuckfuckfuck, Steve— uh, fuck,” You’re spewing anything that comes to your brain, your hips rocking back to meet Steve’s hard thrusts instinctively as you chase your high.
“Shit, honey,” Steve moans, voice climbing higher and breathier. His hips begin to jackhammer, stuttering as his orgasm tips over — a whiney string of curses sung into your skin as he fucks into your wet, hot cunt, hot cum dribbling from his cock inside you.
You’re desperate now, teetering close to your own edge but not quite there. “Stevie, please,” you cry. His fingers on your clit which had slowed regain their speed, his hips picking back up as he begins his murmurs to you.
“C’mon, honey, you’re so close, can feel this pussy sucking me in.“ He whispers hotly, his hand on your sternum moving to grope at your breast, fingers twisting at your nipple. “Want you to cum for me, okay? Please fucking cum for me.”
You don’t get a lot of choice with his cock drilling into you, pushing that sweet spot enough that your orgasm finally builds and melts — a strangled whiney moan of his name warbles out of you, instantly met with Steve’s praises, murmurs of how good you are for him. It feels like every nerve is alight, turning over and pulsing as the waves of pleasure ride out in your body.
You exhale, trying to catch your breath as you half melt into the counter, finally lowering off your tiptoes as you relax in the post-haze. Steve eases his cock out of you, the quietest wince, and you give yourself another minute before you drag yourself up, beginning to look for your abandoned panties. A thought strikes you.
“So,” you pant, leaning back against the counter; you’ll definitely need to sanitise that later. Steve’s rescued his boxers, tugging them up as he raises his brows to indicate he’s listening to your question. “How’d we do on the dream recreation?” You ask.
Steve grins cheekily. “Oh, in my dream we fucked on the couch.”
2K notes · View notes
mayolive-writes · 10 months
Text
The Love Plaza | Jungkook
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jungkook x AFAB Reader
Summary: Needing to take a break from the long trip to college, you and Jungkook are forced to stay at the only lodging available within 70 miles, a love motel. And much to Jungkook’s dismay, there’s only one bed.
Wordcount: 4102
Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Smut, Best Friends to lovers, Oneshot(?)
Warnings: Dry humping, mild awkwardness (these poor virgins), no penetration (this time), They’re so cute and down bad
Minors DNI
A/N: thought this would be a fun writing prompt to exercise my humor muscle. I often feel that my writing lacks comedic relief, so this was good practice! I wanted this to be goofy as shit, because friends to lovers is just that much sweeter when it’s goofy. I do have a couple other WIPs with this couple though!! One that’s fluffy and another that is significantly spicier.
Enjoy!!
The Love Plaza | Moonlight Trampoline Adventure | Labret
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
You must be shitting me.
Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. Jungkook reads the sign in disbelief. The only lodging in 70 miles was a damned love motel. The bright red neon “18+” sign mocks him.
Unbelievable.
"Hell no, I can keep driving," Jungkook turns to you, there's no way you'd be okay with this.
"Jeon Jungkook, we've been driving on and off for 14 hours in a cramped truck with enough leg room for a toddler. We're both exhausted." You flash him a stern look, "we were honked at five times because we were going off the road!" With a light smack of his chest, you giggle, "besides, maybe they have a room with separate beds!" Your voice drips with sarcasm, calm about the entire situation.
Except you weren't.  Inside, you were screaming. A fucking love hotel in the middle of nowhere? This is a sick joke. But despite your inner turmoil, you keep a humored face.
"You're sure?" Jungkook asks again, just to make sure.
Cocking your eyebrow, you give him an incredulous look, "the other option is getting into a crash. I don’t think coffee and 5-hour-energy can't help us now, bun."
He sighs. With every passing second, he can feel his heart losing years of life. This definitely isn’t healthy.
A bell sounds as you and Jungkook enter, catching the eye of a desk clerk. The shabby motel is surprisingly chic inside, with modern hardwood tile, and wallpaper patterned with soft wisteria, giving the space a fresh feeling.
"Hey there! Do you have a reservation?" The smile on the clerk's face is practiced, but falters when he sees the both of you in sweatpants and t-shirts. 
He concludes on his own, no, you don't have a reservation.
As you both walk awkwardly up to the desk, the clerk continues, "just the two of you?"
Jungkook answers, "uh--yeah." You spot a basket on the counter and tap Jungkook on the shoulder, pointing.
It's full of different sized condoms in every bright color imaginable. Pink, blue, orange, yellow, purple, green.
You both hold back silly smiles, doing your utmost to keep cool. 
"And do you perhaps--" you pick up a condom out of the basket and Jungkook chokes. He takes a moment before looking at the smiley clerk again, "have a room with separate beds?"
The clerk simply stares at Jungkook. Separate beds? In a love motel?
There's been very few moments in Jungkook's life when he was truly Flustered.
1. Confessing to Sandy Morrison in second grade. 
2. His first kiss in 11th grade.
3. Figuring out that maybe he wasn’t totally straight.
4. Seeing you, his best friend and crush of at least 6 years,  pick up a large condom, neatly packed in bright neon orange wrapping, and pocketing it for some ungodly reason.
Shit.
What are you doing?
You yourself don't know what the hell you're doing. There’s zero intention in your mind of using the condom, of course--not that you wouldn't like to. But you're just trying to have fun. What else do you do in a love hotel? With this thought, you promptly lose your shit when you sight a shelf near the clerk desk that displays a variety of items.
Lube, lace garters (neatly packed in plastic packaging, fancy!), satin blindfolds, fuzzy handcuffs (red, pink, blue, black, and orange!), and the cherry on top--a brochure of "The Best Positions For A Night of Passion!"
The cackle you hold in makes you shake. You hop over to the shelf and ask the clerk, "how much for these?" Pointing to the handcuffs.
The clerk is now thoroughly confused at the contrasting interests in both you and Jungkook, who is flushed in the face--both from embarrassment and holding his laughter in. "Um... They're all a dollar, the pamphlet is free."
The clerk looks back to Jungkook, "and, sir, I'm sorry, but we don't have rooms with separate beds," leaning forward to whisper, he continues, "if you guys are fighting, take the couch." 
Well, it was worth a shot.
Once you're both checked in, Jungkook is about to walk away. That is, before he sees you go up to the desk clerk with one of each item that was displayed on the shelf. 
Oh. 
My.
God.
The clerk looks at Jungkook, his expression screaming, "dude, I can't believe you wanted separate beds!"
You happily stride beside Jungkook through the motel hallway, kinky bag in hand while he carries the luggage. You must be insane. Having finally reached room 40, you both realize that Jungkook’s hands are full of your bags. Awkwardly, you dig into his front pocket, feeling for the card.
"Um..." you look up when he speaks up, "it's in the other pocket.”
Oh. Oops.
You dig through his other pocket. 
why are these damn things so dee--
What. Was. That.
Jungkook gasps.
You gasp.
Realizing what you’ve just done, you flinch away, “Oh my god! I’m so fucking sorry--" Jungkook is utterly speechless. This night just keeps getting more and more inconceivable. He says nothing as you dig more cautiously and finally yank out the godforsaken key.
One minute later you're finally in the room, with yours and Jungkook’s cheeks throbbing red.
Nice one, y/n.
As you both walk further in, you gasp. All other thoughts vanish at the sight.
Jesus Christ, what a night.
"Oh my god, Koo!" You drag him in faster and he sees you fall into a burst of laughter, and once he sees it too, promptly loses his composure at the ridiculous sight.
The bed is obviously heart-shaped, the sheets are red satin, and the blankets are pink velvet. The mattress is adorned with frilly heart pillows and lacy detailing, with a black headboard screwed into the wall (which is probably for the best).
You both share gazes of utter astonishment, only to fall over yourselves once more. The sheer ridiculousness of it all hitting you full force. Jungkook’s laughter only falters when he notices that there isn't a couch.
This leaves him with two options. Share the bed with you and sacrifice a sleepless night resulting in another 10 hours of hell tomorrow, or sleep on the plush black carpeted floor and spend the next week with achy muscles and a crick in the neck.
He's gonna have to sleep on the fucking floor.
Quietly, Jungkook goes into the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices.
One bed. God, what a cliché. Jeon Jungkook will not be brought down by some fanfic writer’s wet dream.
Despite the inconvenience of the motel, Jungkook is relieved as the hot water spews from the showerhead. He’s needed this all day. Each muscle becomes looser, and Jungkook finds himself relaxing as the sound of water hitting the floor puddles in his mind.
6 long years.
Jungkook was twelve when he realized he had a big, fat, disgusting crush on you. But he knew it wasn’t a big deal. Crushes pass and fade. It’s impossible not to have a crush at that age.
Jungkook was 16 when he realized it wasn’t just a crush anymore. The poor bastard was head over heels. Down for the count. Your smile made his heart burn—he’d do anything to see it. He’d pull up pictures of you on his phone on the rare occasion he couldn’t see you, just to make sure he could at least see your smile every day. He recalls feeling stupid for feeling so fuzzy about you all the time, but what’s shameful about wanting to see someone you love happy and smiling? Nothing.
At some point, it turned physical. Absolute hell. He felt complete and utter shame the first time he touched himself while thinking about you. It was deplorable how badly and how often he yearned for your lips on his body.  
Throughout high school, Jungkook could barely look at anyone else other than you. Others could tell, most didn’t even try making a move on him. Except for his first kiss, taking place after prom in the parking lot. He remembers apologizing profusely to his date the next day, admitting that he just didn’t feel that way about them.
During graduation, he almost slipped. Almost confessed that he wanted to give it a shot. The longing was becoming too much. But no matter how close he came to finally spitting it out he’d always chicken out. You meant too much. And it felt… wrong to spring it on you.
But this? He might break in two. He’s insane, he knows, but that millisecond where you accidentally touched him through his pants almost made him hydroplane, losing all traction on reality.
A knock on the door yanks Jungkook out of his murky thoughts. “If you use up all the hot water, I’ll personally annihilate you, Kookie.”
He can’t hold back a smirk, “yeah, yeah, I’m almost done.”
If hot showers were personified, you’d marry them. Specifically, the ones taken after your best friend, with his scent still lingering. This night has been one hell of a rollercoaster, and you take your time washing away the 14 hours of uncomfortable driving and cleanse your airways. Jungkook has always smelled like home to you. Years of friendship will do that to a person. Not even your own family can make you feel at ease like he does, with the way he shines. Bright enough to feel warm, but not so bright as to scare anyone away.
7 long years.
You were 11 when you realized you had a big, fat, disgusting crush on Jungkook. But you’d had countless meaningless crushes at that age, he was just a crush out of convenience, right?
Wrong.
You were 16 when you realized it wasn’t just a crush anymore. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor with you changed. He was always nice to you, but as Jungkook matured, his rough-and-tumble attitude crumbled away into something softer, cushier, and sweeter. It was unbearable. Whenever he put a secure arm around your shoulder, your heart would squeeze, and then release. First yearning, then comfort.
You wanted him. In more than one way. Never in a million years would you live down the shame from the first time you let him invade your thoughts alone at night. It wasn’t that long ago, really. Jungkook had turned 18, and He wasted little to no time in getting a lip piercing. You nonchalantly said it looked cool, but it kept you up that night.
It was becoming too much, but with graduation fast approaching you thought you’d finally have your out. You’d go off to college, and as much as you’d miss your best friend, you knew you needed to get away, and hopefully the love would fade with time.
Well, that was before you found out that Jungkook was going to the same college as you.
It was pure coincidence.
So here you are. Desperately trying to wash away your increasing desire on both fronts, romantically and sexually.
Regretfully, you step out of the shower into the cold bathroom air. In an instant you’re pulling Jungkook’s stolen hoodie over your head.
The room is dead silent when you leave the bathroom, and you spot Jungkook resting peacefully on the heart-shaped bed. His eyes are closed. It’s moments like these that make you want to give in and just tell him. So what if he doesn’t feel the same way? So what if he doesn’t fight back the urge to kiss you every day? So. Fucking. What.
He’s your best friend. That’s fucking what.
Losing him is not an option.
“Gook?” Jungkook is lightly startled, and you almost feel bad for waking him. “Hey, can you move over?”
“Huh?” He groggily looks around, then realizes, “Oh—yeah, yeah, just a sec.”
With sloth-like movements, Jungkook grabs a pillow and a blanket from the bed and lays them on the floor, but before he can slip down onto the carpet you stop him, “woah, woah, woah. What’re you doing?”
“Uhhh, going to sleep?”
“On the floor? We’ve shared a bed before, doofus.”
“yeah, when we were like, nine.” Jungkook retorts. Please, God. Don’t do this to him.
You know it’ll be hell sharing a bed with him, but you’d feel like shit making him sleep on the floor. “What’re you afraid of, catching cooties? Come on, bun, it’s not a big deal.” It is a big deal. It is such a stupidly big deal.
Jungkook takes a moment to read your eyes, only a feeling a twinge of awkwardness. With reluctance, he moves the blanket and pillow back onto the bed and climbs in first. He can do this.
You climb in behind him, settling in quickly. His back is to you, thank God, but warmth is radiating from his body. You can’t do this.
Deep breaths, deep breaths. Focus.
Focus on the patter of the rain outside. Focus on the whirring of the ceiling fan above. Focus on the softness of the sheets. Focus on the warmth of the blankets. Focus on the smell of the detergent. Focus on the smell of Jungkook’s shampoo.
Wait, no. Don’t focus on that.
Hell freezes over in the time it takes for you to get comfortable.
It feels like infinity has passed by as Jungkook lays deathly still. One movement and he’ll shatter. The bed feels smaller than it looks. The proximity is too much. He can hear your deep breaths, can feel them in how your back lightly hits his with every intake of air. His body feels like it’ll start vibrating. His chest feels like it might implode. His thoughts are spiraling. He just wants you.
Eyes. Closed. Mouth. Closed. Mind. A work in progress. Sheep, count sheep.
1…
2…
3…
Just fall asleep. Please. You tell yourself.
Closing your eyes, you count the seconds as they pass by into minutes. You’re on minute 28 when a haze finally begins to ease you. But some prick outside of your room drops something heavy and you hear them giggling and walking away. You hope they have a terrible night’s sleep. Even if they weren’t planning on sleeping anyway.
Being conscious again, it’s impossible to ignore it. You can’t take it. You can’t. His warmth, his smell. His smile, his laugh.
Him.
Something possesses you. Chest aching painfully, heart beating mercilessly.
You whisper.
“Jungkook,”
“Yeah?” He curses the waver in his voice as your body shifts around to face his back. It takes him a moment before he has enough courage to turn around.
Your eyes.
Your eyes are big and wide, you look scared and excited all at once. “Jungkook, I…”
What are you doing?
You must be insane.
Just forget it.
But there’s no going back.
Do it.
Just say it.
Say it.
Fucking say it.
You like—
No.
He gently reaches for your hand beneath the blanket. The mingling of your fingers calms your mind, eases your breathing. “Thanks,” a whisper is sent across the small distance that separates the two of you. “How do you feel about me?”
Jungkook stares. Huh? That’s all? He chuckles, “We’ve been friends since we were like, four. It’s a good bet that I like you.”
You blink. What an absolute dunce. “No, you stupid asshat, how do you feel about me?” All this courage makes your mouth keep moving, “I mean… I feel something, and sometimes it seems like you feel something too. Can you like, tell me if it’s just me?”
Jungkook’s eyes go wide, his warm hand slipping away.
Oh. You’ve made a huge mistake.
Or so you think before he’s crawling to hover over you, hands beside your head. “You like me?”
It’s your turn for your eyes to bulge, your face burning at the position, one that you’ve imagined at least a million times. Head turning away, you reiterate, “Unfortunately.”
His head falls to your shoulder, “Oh my god. Holy shit, oh my God. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this shit, holy fucking shit.” You patiently wait for his rambling to stop, but you’re confused now. He’s on top of you. This man is on top of you but hasn’t said anything about how he feels yet.
The only natural response is to flick his forehead, of course.
“Hey, ouch!”
You exaggerate the clearing of your throat, “’holy shit, I can’t believe this shit.’ Isn’t a super direct answer, Jeon Jungkook.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re mean?”
“Aww did I hurt you fee—” His lips touch yours softly, but it doesn’t last long enough before he falls back to his side of the bed.
“It’s not just you,” Your hands find each other again.
A thick silence rests over you, despite your staggering heart. You want him to kiss you again, desperately. You push yourself to ask, “kiss me again? Maybe longer this time?”
Jungkook obliges wordlessly, leaning over to press his lips against yours once more. It’s slow, cautious, unsure. Your body feels tense, making it difficult to feel excited. Not sure what to do, you pull him closer by his sweatshirt, forcing your bodies to touch.
It feels like he’s melting into you. His lips are still shaky, but he pushes forward, placing his hand on your hip as you wrap a leg over his body. Creating even less distance between you. There’s a heavy breath.
“Um… okay, pause.” Your eyes meet. He nods and his fingers brush through your hair, playing with it casually and awaiting your next request. In this wide expanse of time, the tingle of him playing with your hair lulls your mind and heart.  
“Again?”
Third time’s the charm, right?
With less hesitance than before, Jungkook finds your lips again, keeping his hand buried in your hair. This time, it’s more comfortable, and your lips tingle. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your hands grip his sweatshirt even tighter, and you find it in yourself to lean in closer, breath quickening less from nerves and more from pleasure.
How many times had you thought of this? Each scenario being different, passionate and fiery. And yet of the hundreds of daydreams, none of them were accurate. Despite the underlying awkwardness, you wouldn’t want it any other way.
All thoughts drift away when Jungkook’s lips leave your own, and before you can protest, they fall upon your neck. Far more astonishing is when he drags you on top of him, changing your positions.
A quiet gasp escapes. Woah, woah woah, buddy.
But your surprise doesn’t stop him from dragging his lips to the other side of your neck. You feel your legs go numb. With his stupid lips on your neck still, he asks, “Is this okay?”
There’s a lot of fumbling in your brain before you can answer, “mhm… I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Oh really? How much of it?” This stupid bitch.
“Shut up before you ruin it, just keep going.” You have no clue, but to Jungkook, the breathlessness in your voice feels like kryptonite.
Slipping a hand beneath your hoodie, you jolt at his touch. “How far do you want me to go?”
You squirm, “Um… I don’t know yet, is that okay?”
“Good, cuz’ I don’t know either. We can stop at any point.” Becoming impatient, you only give him a nod before you guide his hand to slip further into your hoodie. The trail of his touch his tingly, unpredictable, exciting. The gentle nature in the way he feels you causes your body to take on a mind of its own as your hips sink into Jungkook, forcing a groan from his lips. “Fuck, do that again.” You follow his instruction, and he lets out another noise of pleasure. It sends a spark coursing through you, leaning in to kiss him again. It’s messier this time, the caress of his hand on your skin making the simple task of breathing complicated. Your hips push down again, and the bulge you feel beneath you makes you gasp. In quick succession, Jungkook’s fingers brush over the tip of your breast, and to your utter shock a whine flows out of your lips. Your legs lose more strength, and you follow instinct. One hand slips beneath Jungkook’s shirt, and the jerk has the audacity to cup your breast in retaliation, dragging another whine out of you. Your head falls to his neck, partially because you feel like jelly, and partially because you want to leave a string of kisses to match what he so generously left on you prior.
With each kiss your hands keep exploring his torso and chest. If he can play dirty, so can you.
Or so you thought.
He pulls the neckline of your hoodie down to gain access to your collarbone before leaning up and licking a bold stripe from your clavicle up to your neck, dragging your body closer all the while. And when he latches on to the crook of your neck, sucking hard and meeting your hips as they subconsciously grind into him, you release a moan.
“There you go.”
You see through hazy vision the smirk on his face. Different from any that you’ve seen in your countless years of friendship.
He does it again, latching onto a spot along your collarbone and sucking, harsh but loving. Easing the sting with another swipe of his tongue.
The room is soon a quiet orchestra of heavy breaths and stifled groans, whines, and moans.
Time feels nonexistent.
“I think I want you to touch me, koo--”
“You think?”
You whine, “God, I don’t know—I just need more.”
He groans, “Fuck, babe.”
His hands securely grip your hips, and guide them to grind down onto him, hard. His sweatpants barely getting in the way.
You gasp at first, but as he keeps guiding your hips you let out a moan, louder than the one before. You cover your lips, not wanting to be heard by anyone outside.
“shit babe, please don’t be quiet, please—”
As the rhythm of your hips continue, you lean down, resting your head beside Jungkook’s ear, hoping that the muffle of the pillows will prevent anyone other than Jungkook hearing you. You let go, letting your moans flow, as his hips meet yours. Each sound you let out into his ear brings Jungkook closer to his breaking point.
“Keep going Koo, I’m close.” You whisper, and the sounds Jungkook lets out sound almost painful.
“Fuck, I love you.” He whines. And with barley another thrust of his hips, he comes undone beneath you. He keeps his grip on your hips, continuing to bring your hips down onto him.
You can barely manage “I love you too, Koo” before you find release.
The butterflies haven’t subsided yet. You’re clean and warm in bed again with Jungkook, hands and hearts intertwined. This time sleep feels more possible, but you can’t help but want to talk.
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“some of that felt awkward, right?”
“Well, I don’t think anything is more awkward than when we were forced to take a bath together when we were toddlers just cuz’ we got all muddy in the rain.”
You giggle as Jungkook pulls you in closer against his chest. “Yeah, sex ain’t shit compared to that.”
The warmth lulled you into a comfortable silence. You can’t remember the last time you felt this content, and you never want it to end. Every night this is what you want. Hands fit together loosely, blanket tangled between your bodies.
Jungkook will process with time that this is his new reality. His new reality in which you fall asleep in his arms, in which he can pull you closer, hold you tighter, and play with your fingers as he drifts off into a dreamland that couldn’t possibly match what he has with you. No one knows what the future holds, but Jungkook sure as hell hopes that you’re a part of it.
This shaggy love motel did more good than he thought it would.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
1K notes · View notes
atticsandwich · 2 months
Text
but you come back to what you need
pairing: mephistopheles / gn! reader (mc)
fluff, tension, mephisto's usual tsun tendencies, mc annoying their way into mephisto's heart etc etc
it's not your fault you enjoy crashing at the newspaper club room for your midday breaks. it's also definitely not your fault for pretending to be asleep when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, so it really can't be helped that you're trying to figure out how to get more.
i finally finished it LMFAO... i am so sorry for the delay fellow mephisto lovers....
prompt based off of this tiktok reddit video, although it took its own form eventually. (please give it a listen though it's way too fucking cute)
"You're here again?" Mephistopheles groans, seemingly annoyed, putting his pen down as you waltz into his office at the newspaper club room. It's spacious— almost as big as Lucifer's study back at home. You immediately find your place at the seating couch situated at the office's side, feeling your body sink into the soft cushion.
"Previous class drained the hell out of me," you groan, watching the demon across you roll his eyes. "I have a week to list out a bunch of plants I've never heard of and their most effective usage. Potions and stuff," you continue anyway.
"Hmph," he ignores the way you blatantly disregard his posed grievance of your visit, trying to return his focus to his paperwork. "...I have some books on Devildom botany on the second shelf."
You stop yourself from laughing at his attempts at being dismissive— as much as he hates admitting it, you eventually figure out that he doesn't mind your daily visits; an occurence that started out of pure accident, no less.
-
[You recall the first time you barged into his office, out of breath, narrowly escaping Solomon's pure-hearted attempt of making you a surprise lunchbox. You love the sorcerer, you truly do, but you weren't in the mood to have your stomach collapsing onto itself for the next three days. You could only be thankful Simeon gave you a heads up about his plan so you could avoid him during lunch, knowing well enough of your inability to refuse.
"Do me a favor and don't let Solomon know I'm here," he didn't get a chance to retort before you dived to hide behind his chair, just in time as someone started knocking on the office door. With a huff of defeat, he grants the knocker entry— who turned out, to be in fact, the aforementioned sorcerer.
"Mephisto, have you seen my apprentice around? I was meaning to give them homemade lunch, but they ran off right as the bell rang," clearly, the sorcerer was earnest in his actions, but even the demon could feel the malevolent aura emanating from the supposed 'lunch box'.
"No, I have not. I doubt they would come here of their own volition, more especially during break period," he quirked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the almost-vice grip you had on the back of his coat.
"Hm..." Solomon pondered for a second. "That's weird. I thought I saw them run in this direction... I must have been mistaken, then. Thank you anyway, Mephisto!" with that, the clueless sorcerer turned to leave, and it is only when you hear his footsteps fade into the hallways that you breathe a sigh of relief.
Clearing his throat, the demon looks down behind him, and you flash him a bright grin. "I owe you one, Mephisto! You're the best!" you say before quickly wrapping yourself around his back, dashing out of the office before he could say anything in return.
He's relieved you just barely miss the way his face flusters, and the small goofy smile that creeps its way to his face after he double-checks that you're out of periphery.]
-
You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the memory while picking out the book from the shelf Mephisto directed to. It's been a few months since then, and although your visits started off sporadic, it eventually became a daily thing— much to the demon's proclaimed inconvenience. A facade, considering no annoyed demon would start keeping an extra teacup in his office that wasn't Diavalo's spare, which just so happened to be your favorite color. Or the fact that that his record player started having your favorite music on rotation— a complete coincidence!— he exclaimed in defense when you pointed it out one day. Or even the fact that his seating area, which once felt like a completely separate space from his work desk, was slightly rearranged so the sofa just so happened to be in a closer, more comfortable viewing and talking range— not to mention the blanket draped over the backrest which also just so happened to be perfect for midday naps.
"—And what might you laughing about? I doubt a book on botany is hardly a comedic masterpiece," he quips, pulling your attention away from the book.
"Mmm," you shift your angle slightly to look at him better. "Just remembered something funny, is all."
Rolling his eyes, he gets up from his chair to the room's small tea station, where a pair of teacups are set out, a tray of snacks also already conveniently prepared.
"Barbatos gave me this blend the other day, it's supposed to help out with stress. I'm guessing it'll be useful for Lord Diavolo as well."
"Mhm," you nod along, your focus already returned to your botany study.
You hear him mumble an incantation— probably some sort of heat spell to boil water, and it's not long after that he sets your cup on the coffee table, along with a select pick of snacks you usually went for first. You would've teased him about how he knows exactly which ones you go for it if not for the fact that you're fully engrossed with Devildom's botany, making steady progress on your assignment.
"Thanks!" the faint scent of something familiar hits your senses, though you couldn't quite put a name on it. "Mm, this tea is quite fragrant."
"If I recall, it's some sort of human realm fruit essence infused in the blend," he explains, taking a book from one of the shelves, sitting down across from you. "Bergamot, I think it was? I took a little sip earlier, and it's pretty good; although I expect nothing less from Barbatos."
"Ah, that's what it was. I knew it smelt familiar."
He mumbles something incoherently, though you can barely make out the words 'humans' and 'calming effects of familiar scents'. It really is laughable how he still feigns not caring.
"Done with newspaper work already? It's rare for you to take a break at this time of day," holding back a laugh at his ridiculousness, you notice a more faintly lax expression on his face.
"I'm already a bit ahead in progress, so I can afford a small break. On the other hand, I didn't think botany would catch your interest," he points out.
"There’s a lot of cool stuff here! I didn't think I'd enjoy researching it this much. Plants in the human realm just kinda... grow?... with some exceptions, of course," with that, you start listing off the ones you chose for your assignment, particularly enthused about plants often used for traditional and ceremonial practices.
Before long, you managed to finish more than half of your task, all that's left being to actually put it in paper. Tea drank and snacks consumed, you let out a pleased sigh before letting out a yawn and a stretch. Without a word, Mephisto stands to return both your book and his back to the shelf. This time, he pulls out a record from the display and goes to play it, which you instantly recognize as a record you recommended to him some weeks ago. Before you can bring it up, he throws a glare your way, preemptively sensing the teasing that was bound to come out of your mouth. You laugh at him instead, sparing him actual words (for now).
"Fine, fine, I'll shut up and just take a nap. Happy, newspaper boy?"
Groaning at the nickname, he walks over back to his desk. "Do whatever you want. And I already told you to stop calling me that."
"Mmhm," is all you can say, already comfortably in place with the couch blanket draped over yourself, the soft music from the phonograph combined with being filled from the tea and snacks already starting to lull you into deep relaxation. You hear Mephisto grumble something, and you notice his gaze towards you when you turned your head to look at him— one he quickly broke, pretending he wasn't caught.
"Did'ya say something?" your eyelids grow heavy, sleep starting to take over.
"...Nothing. I'll wake you up before your next class."
"I know you will," you mumble before dreaming away.
You're not certain how long you dozed off, but the slight shuffling of an office chair lulled you out of dreamland. Still being sleepy however, your eyes opted to remain closed, hoping to grasp every second of slumber before your afternoon classes. They remained closed when you hear a familiar demon's grumbling noises as he threw another batch of proposal articles in the bin, and they remained close when you sense him quietly walk over to you, his form slowly leaning down over your face. He's so close that you could feel his breath tickle your nose, and you might be hallucinating it, but you think you feel his heart beating a mile a minute.
"Tsk..." you hear him huff out, fingers carefully tucking your hair off your face.
"...I'll never understand why you keep coming back to me," this time, his tone is a lot more soft, you almost didn't recognize it. Half your conscience is telling you to come clean and open your eyes, but you suck it and keep up the act, wanting to see where it goes. You just hope he doesn't notice your own heart beating a mile a minute. You sense him inch closer
"What am I saying..." he whispers to himself.
"...Please keep coming back to me."
In what felt like a blur, you feel the warmth of his lips silently land on the center of your forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds, before you feel him pull away.
Come back, is what you wanted to say, but words have left your throat, and you almost forget you're supposed to be pretending to be asleep.
"...Ugh," he huffs out again, feeling his hair tickle your neck as he lays his head next to yours in exasperation. He snaps out of it in a flash, and you think it slipped his mind that he wasn't supposed to be caught— so much for that anyway, you think. He walks back to his desk, mumbling to himself, and before your mind could start overthinking about what just happened, you slowly sink back into comfort, the last string of thought your mind provided was how much you wanted him to do it again.
You wake up fully this time, by Mephisto snatching the blanket from your sleeping form— keep it up and you'll be late for your last class!, he chastises, and you only groan out a pleading 'five more minutes,' in response.
It's not until a few minutes after you get up that it clicks— that wasn't a dream.
Mephistopheles really kissed you in your sleep.
Sure, it was on your forehead, but now you can't help but continue thinking about it. You thought about it as you waved him goodbye as you left the club room, you thought about it the whole time in class, and you thought about it all the way back to the HoL, where you finally let out a muffled scream as you buried your head in your pillow.
You want him to do it again. You wanted him to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then your—
"Hey, dinner's ready!~" Asmodeus' intrusion cut off your thoughts, but you couldn't even be bothered to care about dinner.
"Hey Asmo?" you ask. The Avatar of Lust perks his brow up in acknowledgment.
"Yes dear?~" it's scary how it's like he can sense what you were thinking...
"...You got any ideas how to get someone to kiss you while awake and not asleep on his couch?"
267 notes · View notes
slvtforfiction · 3 months
Note
Hi I think your request are open. 😭
Anyways I have a prompt where it’s like Jonnie meets a fan and like later on he kind stalks her media and accidentally likes something for an old emo phase and she dms him “??” And it just spirals from there into something cute?
An old phase,A new like
Tumblr media
☆ Yesss!
☆ Love this,thank you anon x
☆ Sorry it’s so short
☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader
☆ Fluff
☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
Masterlist | Pinned post
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“So today we are-“ I look down at my phone as a notification pushed past my do not disturb, Johnnie Guilbert like your photo.
I knew Johnnie,we had text back and forth for a while about doing a video idea even though we had never done it. I had met him at a convention and most likely acted like the biggest fan girl alive.
I clicked on the notification and saw that the like was a photo from 2020,almost 4 years ago.
Tumblr media
You:
Liking photos from 2020,huh?
Johnnie:
Sorry didn’t mean to.
You:
Nooo it’s okay sorry lol
Johnnie:
Okay good lol,thought you were mad
You:
No,no lol
Johnnie:
So how are you?
Tumblr media
2 weeks later,
“I’ll see you again next week? Maybe another date?” I ask with a schoolgirl smile on my face, “Yeah ofcourse,I’d love that.” He replied and I smiled,kissing his cheek.
We walked back to my apartment and watched a movie,cuddling up to each other and sharing some popcorn whilst we watched some shitty romcom. Neither of us cared about the movie,though neither of us would say it. We just enjoyed the comfort of each other.
Around nine o’clock Johnnie left,I was sad to see him go but I knew he had an apartment to sleep in so I couldn’t exactly keep him.
Tumblr media
6 months later,
“Hey Johnnie!” I smile down the phone,we hadn’t hung out a lot this week but I didn’t mind,opting to sleep on call for the week instead.
“Hey love,you okay?” He asks me and I smile at the nickname, “Yeah,im okay,you?” I ask and I could almost hear his smile.
It was always nice to hear johnnies voice,it had become comforting over the past month or so,despite his energetic attitude. He always knew when it was time to settle down and he always knew what to say and how to say it. It made me envy those closest to him.
“So how was your day?”
Tumblr media
1 year later,
“Happy 6 month anniversary!” He said as he hugged me,I smiled and kissed him as I grabbed some chocolates I had bought him.
He handed me some flowers and chocolate and I smiled, “Happy 6 months!” I smiled at him,my face beaming with excitement.
One phone call 6 months ago had led me to become infatuated with him,though I would be lying to say that I hadn’t had a small crush on him since I first text him.
We sat down on his sofa in his apartment and smiled as we put on the same shitty romcom that we always do,it had become our tradition and no one was complaining. As long as I got to snuggle up to the comfort of his chest I didn’t mind.
It had become apparent to both of us that we didn’t really care what we watched as long as we were with each other. I smiled as I snuggled into his chest,something that had become somewhat familiar with us. He snaked his hand around my waist and we sat their in comfortable silence as we admired each other.
Tumblr media
2 years later,
“Happy one year!” I say as I wake up next to him in our apartment, “Happy one year.” He smiled at me,clearly as tired as he always was,I smiled at his goofy little smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“I got you something.” Johnnie whispers as he reaches into his draw,on the other side of the bed. He pulls out a ring box and I smile as he opens it, “I got us those Pandora promise rings you like.”He says with a smile. I sit up in bed and shimmy onto his lap pulling him into a deep hug. “Thank you Johnnie!” I almost yell as I kiss all over his face.
“Do you wanna be the moon or the sun?” I ask and he shakes his head “Whatever you want princess.” He chuckles and I immediately give him the moon ring. “Johnnie,we’re literally the sun and the moon.” I smile and he nods his head, “I love you so much,thank you!” I say happily and he smiles at me as he gives me a peck to the lips.
“I got you something too!” I say with a huge smile beaming across my face, I reach into my draw and pull out three wrapped presents. I feel like a parent watching their child open their presents with glee.
“Awh thank you baby!” He says pulling me back in for a hug and I smile,accepting the hug gratefully.
Tumblr media
6 years later,
“I love you so much,I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else,Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”
“Yes!!!”
218 notes · View notes
girlboypersonthingy · 2 months
Note
omg i love your blog sm!! it’s been a while since ive been in the fandom and i didn’t think anyone wrote for vld anymore, ahhhh but i love the way you write!! you’re so so talented!! how do you think a love triangle sitch with keith and lance would play out? i love the both but UGHHHH THE DRAMA I LOVE IT😩😩
Oh my god thank you so much! I’m so flattered asfdafh 🥰🥹 I know the fandom is dead to most but not to all. I’m still here and voltron will always live on in my heart ❤️‍🔥 BRO THIS PROMPT??? PLZ ITS SO GOOD AAHHH ENJOY!
❤️Love Triangle💙
Tumblr media
Okay first of all, these two would try to win you over IN COMPLETELY OPPOSITE WAYS.
Lance is, of course, over the top and very romantic and kind of cliche but so considerate and thoughtful and sweet.
Keith will be more nonchalant and mysterious, trying to use his skills and talents to impress you. He’s the type to slowly win you over by being very genuine and honest.
It started when Lance threw a pick up line your way and not only was the line terrible…but you actually laughed at it. It brought some pink to your cheeks as well. They both noticed that.
Lance was very smug about the fact that he made you giggle and blush.
Keith was a little annoyed at first, thinking Lance was just being his usual obnoxious self. So Keith just kept trying to make moves on you in his own way.
One day, Lance walked into the training room to see you and Keith sitting beside each other on the floor, breathing heavily as if you’d just decided to take a break. He couldn’t really hear what Keith was saying but you looked very focused, very into the conversation and you two were sitting just a little bit too close for his liking.
Lance didn’t like the eyes you were making at the red paladin
But Keith sure did. He was so excited to be sitting so close to you.
Then it’s like the spider man meme of them pointing at each other like 😧👉🏻 👈🏻😮
“Wait! You like (Y/N)? No no no, you can’t! I like (Y/N)!”
“Well I liked them first!”
“No! No! Dibs!”
“Really? Dibs?” *eye roll*
For the next week, they’re both acting like goofballs around you.
It’s kind of hilarious and very entertaining for you because…you notice that they start adopting each other’s ways of flirting and dropping hints. They do a little swap.
It’s like they think the other person has a better chance with you so they try to switch it up and copy each other. Lance thinks Keith’s ‘mysterious bad boy’ persona is something you’re into. Keith thinks you find happiness in all the silly, goofy things Lance does. So they both try to switch it up in hopes of making you fall for them. Does that make sense?
Imagine Keith trying to use a pick up line on you and failing miserably. He’s probably sweating through his shirt and his mouth is dry bc he’s so close to you, he can smell your shampoo. He’d end up stuttering and then getting really pissed at himself for looking dumb in front of you. May go back to his room and pout if he felt things didn’t go well.
Now imagine Lance trying to be all soft spoken and mysterious, trying to act cool. Lance trying not to talk too much is the equivalent of him holding his breath. It’s only a matter of time before he breaks character and says some dumb, cheesy shit that has you rolling your eyes. He awkwardly shuffles away to his room and also pouts bc he feels like he’s just loud and annoying.
The boys got into a yelling match about it once. The pot just boiled over and all you could do was watch.
That was their very shitty, joint confession of their feelings for you- them screaming about who likes you more, who liked you first, who you’re more compatible with, ect ect blah blah blah
All right in front of you
And all the while, the whole team is so confused
Cue Allura and Hunk stepping in between them because both their faces are turning red from anger and jealousy.
Everyone just looks at Shiro like 👀
Shiro, the dad of the group: 🙄😤 “fine…”
Shiro sits them both down for a long chat and by the end of it, the boys have come to terms with the fact that they both like you and not only is it your choice who you’d want to be with, but there’s a lot of other things to be worried about rn. They shouldn’t, and they won’t, pressure you.
Buuttttt…they do keep up some of the same things they like to do with you.
Keith still trains with you often (and he really enjoys helping you with your stance/posture bc he gets to be touchy✨)
Lance still invites you into his room to play video games (and he always seems out of breath when you sit so close to him, your arm touching his)
They try their best to control their temper around you and they try not to be around when you’re with the other person. They don’t need to see you being all close and personal with someone who isn’t them. :,(
The boys just continue to be their normal selves with you. They figure you should get to know them, the real them, before you make any decisions.
Yes, they both like you.
Yes. They’re both very competitive and very jealous.
But they respect each other and they respect you.
And we are in the middle of an intergalactic war right now, this is not a real priority.
They’ll give you some time and a pace to think about it.
Now comment on this post and tell me who you’d choose 😈 I love them both so so much but Lance is my soulmate for sure
162 notes · View notes
sylveon-and-velveon · 3 months
Note
Oh God can we please see what the slashers would do if you played 'Hopelessly Devoted To You' from Grease? Just in time for Valentines Day 🥺🥺🥺
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! For couples and singles {like me lol}
OMG yes! I loved watching Grease as a kid!! AFTER MAKING THIS: Should say somehow half of these became "love language" responses- I follow you, hol' up
This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine
Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD We besties if you give me Cupcakke remixes-
Tumblr media
OG Michael Myers
It's giving lovesick, it's giving obsessed, it's giving "I'm not leaving you"
Well for Michael anyway-
He'd probably take the song a little too seriously, and think you're never gonna ever leave him.
He's never been the best at romance
Blame where he was "raised" for over a decade-
Tumblr media
RZ Michael Myers
Just as much in the "never been good with romance" department
But hey, the music isn't loud and obnoxious so he doesn't mind as much to the music you're playing
Especially since it's not as vulgar like.... last time you played music around him
You music player lives to see another day!!
Tumblr media
Brahms Heelshire
He sees it as a love language, that you're using music to properly show your love for him without feeling uncomfortable throughout it all
Yep, that's my new headcannon now. His love language is through music. Especially with pianos
He hears you playing that? Oh his heart is MELTING right then there!! He's gonna be giving you cuddles for DAYS after hearing that
Someone make this love language canon please-
Tumblr media
Jason Voorhees
Imagine if his mom used to listen to this song?
Bringing him memories. Bittersweet ones probably
Unless you headcannon his mom's still alive, then just sweet
Unless you have a sad headcannon about his mom then you fucked either way mate TvT
But anyway, it brings him memories and he's enjoying the music with you
I kinda went on a Pamela rant there- XD
Tumblr media
Billy Lenz
A little confused but he got the spirit
He ain't understanding a lot of it until he hears iconic line from the song
Then he running over to you and is NEVER letting you go
But he still confused
But he trying TvT
Tumblr media
Freddy Kreuger
Okay.... here me out:
Yeah the dude will be ridiculous with goofy ass music
But with romantic related songs?
...
So you know how he has one hand that isn't covered with the glove?
And no, you're not getting anymore context to my thought process-
Tumblr media
Stu Macher & Billy Loomis
Short and sweet, they'd both love it
Billy's calm about it, while Stu is just like a big doggy. Oh- he is SO happy!!
Billy ain't gonna stop him, it's a good song. And it makes the both of you happy
What's to complain?
Tumblr media
Thomas Hewitt
Takes him a few seconds to understand the implications of this song but when he does he's gonna give you a big ass hug
Bone crushing? Probably-
It's Thomas, he'd probably accidently do it-
But he still loves you
Even if he accidently puts you in a wheelchair
Tumblr media
Bubba Sawyer
Yeah you gotta explain the song, poor guy highly wouldn't understand the meaning
Or he would... but BARELY-
You gotta explain what the song's about, when he finally does understand he's gonna be so in love with you.
And the song
Like a little confession song... weird choice for a confession song. But you do you-
Tumblr media
Harry Warden
A little old fashioned but he understands the song is romantic-esc
He'd vibe to song, bounce his head along to the beat a little
Tap his feet to beat as well, maybe change back and forth between the two
He's never watched the movie before but now the song makes him want to watch the movie
Specifically with you ^^
Tumblr media
Tiffany Valentine
She's watched the movie, but she doesn't wanna admit it
But the second, THE SECOND, she hears you playing that song
Ohhhhhhhhhhh you two are singing that song together with no shame
It's her guilty pleasure song, but knowing that you listen to this song now makes her more confident!
Hell yeah!!!
160 notes · View notes
skzdarlings · 2 months
Text
birthday girl ; skz ; seungmin x reader
requested by anonymous: “You keep your hands where they are or I’ll tie them up” with Seungmin + requested by anonymous: ❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ is SO seungmin I can’t 😭 + requested by @sealovesbts : ❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜ x Seungmin djjdjjdjd 🫣
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: friends to lovers. boy next door!seungmin, stripper!seungmin. reader is kinda vanilla but gets a couple kinks unlocked: stripping, some power play, seungmin giving orders and her following it, having sex in privacy but a public venue overall. word count: 4100 words.
masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.
enjoy!
-
You open the door and jump, startled to find Seungmin already standing there with his hand raised to knock.  He also looks surprised but he doesn’t shriek like you do.  You were already jittery before the jump-scare.   
“Seungmin! Sorry!”  You put a hand over your heart.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I can see that.”  He speaks in his usual dry tone but smiles a lopsided smile. 
Kim Seungmin lives in your neighbourhood.  You have been amicable a long time so you like to consider him a friend as well.  He is an admittedly private person and his personality can be brash, but you find charm in his quirky cheekiness.  He is reliable whenever you need a hand.    
He is dressed in a hoodie and jeans which is not unusual; he is not very flashy.  His bangs sweep his forehead and he smiles a wide, boxy smile as he hands you a gift bag. 
“Happy birthday, neighbour,” he says. 
“Oh my goodness,” you say, flustered.  “Seungmin!  You didn’t have to!”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m the greatest,” he quips.   While you open the present, he asks, “I guess you’re going out?  You’re all dressed up.” 
“Oh, um, yes.”  You feel shy as he looks at you.
“You look good,” he says.
It makes you even more flustered.  You are dressed a little sleeker and sexier than usual.  Your sister has arranged your birthday party but you do not know where, only that she said to dress for fun.  You are not great with surprises and your sister is a little wild, hence your nerves, but you have decided to leave your comfort zone for one night. 
You were not expecting to run into your neighbour, friend, and crush. 
Because, yes, you like Seungmin.  A lot.  Seungmin is very modest, low-key, and hard-working.  You know he is at law school and works a few jobs to pay for it.  You are not sure where, but he is intelligent and you can imagine him doing anything.  His snark is amusing but his dependability and steadfastness is a sexy combination.  Your sister has never met him but has often teased you for your so-called boring infatuation, but you disregard the thought.  You like Seungmin, shaggy bangs and law school textbooks and all. 
A flirtation has been subtly brewing over the last few months.  You think the unexpected birthday gift is a step in that direction.  Especially when you unwrap a recipe book you off-handedly mentioned a few weeks ago, touched he remembered it at all. 
“Oh, thank you, Seungmin,” you say, gushing and sweet.  You go to hug him but falter nervously and end up giggling. 
He brushes some hair out of his eyes.  They seem to sparkle with mirth, or maybe you are just ridiculously head-over-heels. 
“You’re kinda goofy, you know that?” he says, but smiles.  “I like it.” 
“Oh gosh,” you say. 
It makes him laugh.  Then he says, “I’ll let you get to your party.” 
“Oh, it’s just my sister and some girl friends,” you say.  “I don’t even know where we’re going.  Probably just some food and stuff.  You know me.  I’m very simple.” 
“I do,” he says.  “I’d like to know you better, though.  Maybe you can make me one of those recipes some time.  I like the one on page fifteen.”
You burst out laughing at his audacity, making him laugh too.  His teasing successively obliterates your nerves.    
“I will,” you say, smiling so big.  “Page fifteen.  Noted.” 
“It’s a date,” he says.  “I’ll let you go now. Enjoy your birthday dinner.”
“You too,” you say, then realize that response made no sense so you stutter through a retraction.  You stop when he leans in and kisses your cheek, a quick peck that makes your eyes go wide. 
“Goofball,” he says and bops your nose while smiling.  “See you around, neighbour.”
“Bye, neighbour,” you say, giggling helplessly. 
He smiles as he walks away, hands in his pockets, and you are still hugging your book and smiling. 
-
The conversation with Seungmin is your last wholesome birthday moment.  You meet your sister and friends only to get whisked off to a placeof complete and utter depravity. 
Otherwise known as a club full of male strippers. 
You are sitting at a little table, astounded at the room around you.  You hold no judgements whatsoever, but between the flashing lights and loud music and, um, prominent bare chests and even more prominent bulges, you are sufficiently overawed. 
You cannot help but gawk, mouth open as you look around at everything.  It makes your sister and friends laugh.  It is not mean but they are undoubtedly amused.  Your shy character is the opposite of… this. 
“You guys are crazy,” you say, only making them erupt into more giggles. 
“You like logic and traditions so consider it a rite of passage, baby sister,” your sister says, slinging her arm around your shoulder and squeezing.  “Or, hm, an act of feminism!  It’s about equality.  We need to objectify and ogle the sexy men on behalf of womankind.”   
“How noble of us,” you say dryly, setting off another round of giggles.  You shake your head, smiling with amusement too.  You are a little embarrassed but it is quite funny, and there is a part of you enjoying something so opposite of your usual quiet scenes.  
Amusing is the best word for it, though.  None of the men are remotely your type and the relentless hip-thrusting is a bit much. You find yourself laughing into your drink and swaying to music as a few choreographed routines are performed.  Some of the more elaborate dances are entertaining. 
“The birthday girl likes a pretty boy,” your sister says, conspiring with your friends to find the perfect man to entertain you. 
“No, I don’t,” you say.  You roll your eyes and playfully shove her shoulder.   
“Well,” she says, “there are no boring lawyers on that stage, so a pretty face will have to suffice.” 
They proceed to point out a few of the prettier dancers while you shake your head.  You turn to watch the stage where a different set of men are in the middle of a routine.  There is a very rowdy bachelorette party in front of your table, occasionally blocking the view of one side of the stage.  You are sipping you drink when a few girls move, opening the view. 
You promptly spit your drink everywhere.  Your friends squeal while you choke and there is enough chaos at your table for one of the dancers to look directly at you. 
Not just any dancer.  
Kim Seungmin.
You have seen that face twice a day every day for months and you still barely recognize him.  It is no wonder that even a slightly obstructed view warped him entirely. 
Your modest, low-key friend is dazzling under the stage lights, face lightly made-up and his usual shaggy hair pushed back off his face.  Is it possible for a glimpse of forehead to so drastically change the composition of a familiar face?   He looks like a new man, his features striking on his bright, open face, all framed by neatly styled dark hair.  The familiar sparkle in his dark eyes is accentuated by the gleam of something shining around his neck.  Necklace? Choker? Collar?
He is in a white dress shirt and blue jeans, ripped at the knee, but everything about him seems illuminated.  He is the bold, blazoned fantasy version of the boy next door.  Very literally in your case, which is maybe why you think it, watching him cross the stage with more verve and confidence than you knew he possessed.  Your Seungmin walks in a casual shuffle, hands in his pockets.  He does not stride.
He certainly does not… gyrate.  Which is what he is doing when he catches your eye.  There is a moment of shared recognition and subsequent surprise, wide-eyed as you hold gazes across a noisy room.
Seungmin, a seemingly consummate professional, blinks the surprise off his face and goes back to his routine. 
You are not so practiced.  Your surprise stays plastered there, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him.  The dance that seemed so exaggerated and ridiculous on the other performers is something else on Seungmin.  Maybe it is his character, the boy next door with his ripped jeans and smirking grin. Or maybe it is because he is your boy next door.
He is not ridiculous. Quite the opposite.  He makes it look natural, fluid and unhurried with the swivel of his hips and teasing grin.  He seems to somehow make eye contact with everyone in the room. 
You remind yourself that is his job when his eyes wander back to you.  It does not slow the race of your heart.
He sits on a chair and opens his shirt.  Some of the other dancers are more than half-naked, but he has a captive audience with the simplest action.  Keeping each step to the beat of the music, he reclines and undoes his belt, which makes your lips part. Then he lets his shirt drop down his arms and reveals his shoulders, which makes you gasp.  Then he cups a hand between his legs, curving his palm over the not-insubstantial bulge in his jeans.  Heat fills the core of you. 
He looks right at you with a tilt of his head and a lazy smile, the subtle sort of smirk that does not need to exaggerate.  He knows he has you. 
“Oh my god,” your friend says.  “Not birthday girl eye-fucking a stripper.”
“What!”  You rip your attention away all at once, flushed hot from head to toe.  “I am not!”
“Well, he was eye-fucking you.” 
You take a gigantic gulp of water, though it does not to quell the heat inside.  Until today, the most you dared to fantasize about Seungmin was a prolonged kiss on the porch.  Seungmin is polite.  He does not eye-fuck. 
Except you glance over the rim of your cup.  He is still looking at you.  It is not the way he looks at everyone else, who he skims with a cursory glance and flirtatious wink.  It is a lingering, penetrating stare, like he is calling you to him with his eyes alone. 
Oh. Gosh.  He is eye-fucking you. 
“I think,” your sister says, “we found a pretty boy for the birthday girl.” 
-
And that is how you find yourself sitting in a small private room, barely bigger than a coat closet and washed in a dark purple light.  You are perched on a plush little seat, holding your handbag so tightly your knuckles start to hurt.  You let go and clear your throat, embarrassed even though you are alone.  You place the bag on the floor and smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress.
You squeak like a frightened little mouse, jumping when Kim Seungmin startles you for the third time tonight.  Once on your doorstep.  Once on stage.  And now in this little room, silhouetted by the hall lights until he closes the divider.  He is still in his ripped jeans and dress shirt, neatly buttoned and composed again. 
He runs a hand through his hair which makes your heart skip beats.  You feel a little preposterous, scandalized by a forehead, but it makes his gaze so direct.  You melt under the intensity of his stare. 
“I hear it’s your birthday,” he says. 
You imagine yourself as a stranger to him, the same line recited with the same confidence.  For some reason, it is just as tantalizing.  You like abrasive, quirky law student Kim Seungmin in his hoodie and jeans.  But you find yourself irrevocably spellbound by this other version of him, who is so seductive it has women drawing money out of their purses. 
“Yes,” is what you say, instead of all that. 
He tilts his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.  He is always clever but his open face makes his scrutiny more apparent.  You swallow when he approaches, when he sinks down on one knee while holding your gaze in thrall. 
“Breathe,” he says.  “That’s not a request.”  He rests his hands on the seat, framing your body between them.  He does not touch you.  He does not need to.  Your breath spills free in a rush and he smirks.  “Good.  All right.  So… neighbour… Should we talk?” 
You think a thousand thoughts.  Yes, a conversation.  No, your friends paid for this room.  They think you will get a lap dance or something, then return quickly.  You want to ask when he is free for dinner.  You want to ask how long he has worked here.  You want to know him.  You really, really want to kiss him. 
You say instead, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” 
He looks at you for another moment, still studious.  You swallow again.  Then he smiles that dastardly grin, wide and a little mean. 
“And you want to?” he asks.  “Do this sort of thing?” 
“Only if it’s you,” you say, then avert your gaze out of embarrassment.  Maybe that was too much cringe-worthy honesty. 
He touches your chin, drawing your gaze back to him.  You blink at him, helpless but to study his face in turn.  He was always decently good-looking but he is driving you to complete distraction.  You find yourself staring at his lips well before he starts speaking. 
“I think you have more depth than either of us know, don’t you?” he asks. 
“Maybe,” you say, laughing a little.  You look at him with wide, earnest eyes.  “Don’t we all?” 
He touches his tongue to his upper lip, looking thoughtful but undoubtedly smiling.  Then he smacks his lips and nods, his hair bouncing.
“Right,” he says.  “In that case, birthday girl…”
He stands and your eyes follow.  He holds your gaze until he starts unbuttoning his shirt, then your eyes drop to his hands, the deft flick of his fingers as they crawl down his chest. 
A professional, you think.  It gets you undeniably hot.  You meet his eyes again when he tugs his shirt off and drops it behind him.  He is more slender than chiseled, especially compared to some of the other dancers, but there is a firmness to his body, a control he has mastered.  
He grabs a bar above your head that you did not even notice, using it to lift and lower himself over you.  He lands in a smooth straddle with his knees cradling you under him. 
You sit back, breathing harder already.  Then he takes your hands and lifts them over your head, making your fingers twitch with anticipation.  You are still fully clothed but your dress is sleeveless and low-cut and this feels like a vulnerable position, arms raised with a half-naked Kim Seungmin straddling your body. 
He curls your fingers around the bar then drags his knuckle down the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver despite the packed heat of this little room. 
“You keep your hands where they are,” he says, “or I’ll tie them up.”   
You nod a little frantically and it makes him laugh.  Then he is leaning back just enough to rock his body over yours, bringing your attention to every flawless plane of his body as he moves on you.  He touches you sparingly, making you watch, making you wonder.  Looking and fantasizing about what his hips can really do, what strength is hidden in the body he has mastered.  He follows the low music, ever deep thrum of a bass, every heart-pounding beat. 
He brings his face close to yours, so close your lips almost touch.  It steals your breath like a real kiss would. 
“I’m going to touch you,” he says.  “Be good for me, birthday girl. Maybe there’s a present in it for you.  Only if I like you.” 
You cannot find any witty quips to return.  He is definitely the experienced one, as effortless with his words as with everything else.  You can only gawk at him as he slides smoothly off.  Then his hands are on your legs, making them quiver, your body startled with the direct touch despite the warning. 
Your skirt gathers just a bit, his hands curling under your knees.  Then he is spreading your legs, not enough to see anything but enough you feel the empty space between them.  Oh yes, emptier than you have ever felt.  You are surprised by the way you clench, your body aching for more.  He only teases, makes you feel that emptiness and picture every what if.  He helps you with your fantasy, pushing your legs back like he would if he was fucking you deep, rolling his hips so close to yours in mimicry. 
“Oh,” is the only sound you make.   Your breathing is very loud.  It says a lot on its own. 
He is breathing a little harder too.  He is still between your legs when he starts unbuttoning his jeans.  He shuffles them down his hips but not all the way off.  You can see he is wearing nothing underneath, the denim itself a suddenly tantalizing piece, slung low on his hips with the subtle sloping v of his body drawing your gaze to his middle. 
“I don’t usually go further than this, you know,” he says.  He slowly pushes the next button loose and you can feel the rush of heat from your belly swoop lower.  His bulge looks obscene at this vantage, pushing at what little remains of the denim around it.  “But I think I like you, birthday girl.”  He opens another button.  “I think I can make an exception.”  He pushes the last button then grasps his jeans at the hips, grinning as he says, “Our secret.” 
Secret, illicit, that’s what this feels like, looking at the gorgeous man you have been pining after, watching as he pushes his jeans down his hips and thighs.  You are tucked in a small room not far away from a rowdy crowd, Kim Seungmin dropping the last of his clothes then continuing his slow and sensual movements. 
You feel dizzy, your arms shaking.  You close your mouth when you literally salivate, because his dick is right there, hard and curving up in front of you as he moves with skilled ease.  You giggle a little nervously when he notices and swipes a thumb across your lips.   Then he reaches up, curling his hands over yours on the bar as he leans in close to your face. 
“You wanna touch me?” he asks, palms over your knuckles.  You nod frantically and he grins that mean smile, tilting his head as he looks down at you.  “What will you give me for it?” 
“Anything,” you say.  “You can do anything to me.  You can have all of me.” 
It occurs only seconds later he might mean money, but he just laughs, that familiar ha-ha-ha you have heard a dozen times before. 
“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he teases.  “By fucking your way out of them?” 
“You’re so mean,” you say with a helpless pout. 
“Yeah,” he says, brushing his nose with yours.  “I am.  I could be worse, but it’s your birthday.”  He takes your hands and lowers them, guiding them to his shoulders.   
You touch him carefully, as if he is fragile, or like he could disappear beneath your fingertips.  This moment hardly seems real, ethereal and bright, all neon and purple haze. This is not like you and that is thrilling.  This is all new, but he is also familiar.  You are enjoying this, him, you together.  
You touch him slowly, with intention, just the gentlest caress across his bare shoulders.  It wipes his grin, makes his breathing get all slow like he is savouring it too.  He looks at you with more intensity. 
“You said I can anything?” he asks. 
A nod is all it takes, then he is sinking to his knees.  He pushes back a few loose strands of his hair, then his hands are under your knees and he is pulling you to the edge of your seat.  You make a little noise of surprise, clutching his shoulders until he manoeuvres you.  Then it is your legs on his shoulders and he is running his tongue along your inner thigh. 
“Seungmin,” you say, breathlessly.
“Shh, shh,” he says.  “Our secret, remember?” 
Then he is tugging your now wet panties to the side, his mouth on you in a ravenous motion.  You cover your mouth to try and stifle most of your moaning, but you cannot help the few sounds that escape, especially as he takes you closer and closer to a climax.  He surfaces, still using his hand to get you close, his lips wet and eyes searching.  He smirks, sliding two fingers into you while rolling his thumb across that distended bundle of nerves. 
“That’s not quiet, birthday girl,” he says.  “Don’t make me gag you.” 
“I’m quiet,” is your rasping reply.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks, fucking his fingers roughly through all the wet desire between your thighs, making you shake.  “I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making,” he says.  “It almost sounds like you’re about to come for me.  That’s pretty dirty.  What would everyone out there say?” 
Shocked.  They would be shocked if they even believed it.  You would not have believed it of yourself a few hours ago.  But now you are coming all over his face and hand and it is still not enough.  You have never begged for anything but the words are on your lips, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, fingers swirling at your entrance.  He pushes in and out, just his fingertips, tormenting you.  “That just made you needier, didn’t it?  Tsk.” He sighs dramatically.  “I don’t usually offer that.  It’ll cost you.” 
“I’ll cook the recipe on page sixteen too,” you say, making him laugh naturally again. 
“What a bargain,” he says.  He grabs his jeans and fishes a condom out of the back pocket.  He even seems to make a show of that.  He puts it on and fists his cock for you, standing above you while you catch your breath.  When you reach for him, he grabs your wrists and yanks you up.  He is effortless and quick, as always, spinning you around and pressing your hands to the back of the seat. 
“You know the rules,” he says.  “Hands there or I tie them up.  That’s my girl.”
You follow his directions and bend over, feeling utterly debauched before he is even inside you.  He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties aside again.  You are fully dressed and he is completely naked, but you somehow feel more exposed, more vulnerable in his confident hands.  He holds your hips and eases inside you, inch by solid inch until he is pressed up against your backside, buried to the hilt. 
“That’s it,” he says, tone still cocky though it soon gives way to panting.  He makes a few rough sounds of his own, fucking you quick and dirty in this small room.  You are going to walk out of here smelling and looking like sex itself, dishevelled and shaky and well-fucked.  Practically a new woman, one you are eager to know, containing as many contradictory dualities as Seungmin. 
Seungmin, your goofy friend, who throws his head back as he drives into you again and again, shushing you when you get too loud.  He muffles his own cry in your shoulder when he comes, still rocking against you for a moment after that. 
“Fuck,” you say, dropping onto the seat after.  He is tugging his jeans back on, though his eyes are on you.  It is a scrutinous stare again.  You undoubtedly have questions for each other.   For now, you just smile, taking another shuddery breath as you come down from your high.   “Well,” you say.  “That might have been worth page seventeen too.” 
His gaze softens, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile.  He leans over you, brushes his nose against yours, and finally kisses you.  It is the soft, tender kiss you dreamed about so long ago.  It leaves you as breathless as everything else. 
“All right, neighbour,” he says, “it’s a date.” 
1K notes · View notes
alaskasmonsters · 1 year
Note
Ahhh happy 1k and congrats!! Your prompt event looks so fun hehe, thank you for hosting! Could I request Suna + “How much did you drink?”
𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖐? (suna rintarou)
Tumblr media
pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader
content: phone calls, drunk reader, flirting, drunk confessions of sorts
a/n: aww thank you anon ❤️🙏 i love writing drunk people because i can make them be so silly bshshsj 🤭 i hope you enjoy this!!! <33
☁️ 1k follower event
Tumblr media
“Fuck. Do you know how late it is?”
You giggled at the sound of the familiar voice sounding through your phone. You ignored his cursing and his question because truth was, no you didn’t know how late it was. Why did that even matter?
“It’s you!” You said instead, more excited giggles bubbling out of your mouth.
There was silence on the other end after this and you frowned, quickly checking your phone screen to see if Suna had actually hung up on you. That would be so mean!
“Yes, it’s me…” Suna replied finally and you hummed happily.
He sounded so dreamy with his voice all…low? In a tired way…?Ho..hoarse! Yes, his voice was hoarse.
You nodded at yourself, patting your shoulder for being so smart. Until the ground decided to do something very rude and tilted to the side enough to make you stumble.
You swayed a little until you were able to find your balance again.
“You okay there?”
You scrunched your face together, eyes returning to your phone.
“Suna! What are you doing in my phone? That’s so silly!” You called out, grasping your phone tighter before dissolving into more laughter.
The boy let out a sigh at your question and you heard rustling in the background.
“How much did you drink?”
You smiled, looking around you for a place to sit down. The world was kind of shaky.
“Just a little,” you admitted, plopping down on a bench nearby. “I miss you. Come here.”
“We saw each other a few hours ago.” Suna reminded you but you heard the smile in his voice.
“But you smell good!”
No reply. The rustling stopped. You ignored this in favour to keep gushing, thoughts filled with the pretty boy.
“And your eyes are pretty! I miss your eyes. Bring them with you.”
A soft laugh sounded through the line.
“You want me…to bring my eyes with me?”
“Yes! If you come without them I might cry! And then you’ll have to kiss my tears away…” You tilted your head thoughtfully and a goofy smile grew on your face “You should kiss me anyways.”
He hummed. “Maybe I will if you ask nicely.”
You cheered.
“After you sober up.”
You deflated again, pouting. Rude!
“But I like you so much!”
There was a pause and you waited patiently for Suna to reply. Why did he let you wait so much today? He was so rude sometimes. But in a cute way. And his eyelashes were so long.
“Just tell me where you are right now. I’ll pick you up and bring my eyes, I guess.”
You sat up, smiling widely. “You will? Promise?”
“Of course, idiot.”
“You’d be such a good boyfriend, you know?”
“I know.”
“You should be my boyfriend.”
“We’ll talk about that later.”
You nodded, feeling satisfied with that. That was basically a yes. He must think you were being so smooth and cool right now. Maybe he was blushing on the other end of the line.
You giggled, almost missing that Suna was asking for your location again. You sent it to him, with just some struggle. Barely worth mentioning, Suna was definitely over-exaggerating when he called you “so hammered”. You were just a little tipsy.
“I’ll be there in a few,” Suna told you, the sound of a car door being opened and closed audible.
You grinned. “See you then, babe!”
The boy didn’t respond immediately. You huffed.
“Call me a cute pet name!”
He sighed. “You’ll kill me tomorrow.”
“Pretty please.” You begged, making your cutest puppy eyes at your phone screen, forgetting for a moment he couldn’t see you right now. “I look so cute right now by the way! You wouldn’t be able to tell me no.”
“Fine.” He gave up, voice sounding amused now, “See you soon, angel face.”
You beamed, making a happy sound, missing completely that Suna had hung up.
But you didn’t mind. You’d just wait there until he came. And maybe you could convince him to keep calling you pet names for the rest of the night…or maybe even longer.
859 notes · View notes
sunraies · 6 months
Note
Hey!! Could you write using the prompts: "Don't touch me!" & "You're burning up." And can it be reader and rafe hate each other but then reader almost faints?
Love your writing btw💕💕
I had so many thoughts to do with this one! I ended up going with a scene from a movie. If you know, you know. If you don't, please enjoy anyway x
Prompt List
Warnings - mentions of drinking and sick. Also, it's a stolen movie scene.
×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×
The rhythm, the beat and the bass were your friends as the party lights danced around you or with you. You weren't quite sure. You felt like you were on top of the world as you danced on the pool table. A crowd gathered around you, enjoying the moves. Tequila had given you the confidence of a godess and you sure seemed like one.
That was until you hit your head on the chandelier above you. For a moment the world went dark as people laughed and groaned in pain for you.
You landed in a strong pair of arms, who stood you up right and began leading you away from the crowd as you stumbled.
"You alright?" Rafe asked concerned as he tried to see your face.
"Don't touch me" You tried to shake him. "I'm f-fine"
"You're not fine" He stated as you stumbled into him a little floppy "Come on"
He led you towards outside, away from the crowded, partying house. You didn't struggle as your held your forehead.
"I-I just need to lay down" You sighed, making your way out the patio door.
"Uh-Huh. Right. You're going to lay down and go to sleep..." Rafe followed you, a hand on your lower back to guide you away from the pool.
"Mmm, sleep sounds goood" You gave him a goofy smiled.
"Not if you have a concussion" Rafe sighed.
"You wouldn't care if I never woke up" You stated as you stumbled towards a swing set. It was the only place not surrounded by people.
Topper sure knew how to throw a good pool party. The perks of being a popular Kook with parents away most of the time.
"Sure I would" Rafe smirked at you.
"Why?" You glared at him as you turned to face him, grabbing his hands in yours to stable yourself.
"Well then. Because I might have to find a girl who actually likes me" He teased.
The pair of you had an odd situationship. You were Sarah's closest friend and you seemed to hate Rafe. The feeling appeared mutual. Overtime the hatred turned into tension and that tension turned to hookups but nothing more. No strings were meant to be attached.
"Like you could find one" You spat back.
"See that, right there. Who needs affection when they can have blind hatred?" Rafe pointed out.
"I just...." You huffed "I need to sit down. Just a little while" You moved towards a swing and slumped onto the seat as you held the chain in one hand and Rafe held your other one.
"Alright, there" Rafe settled you, placing your other hand in the chain too before taking a breathe. Relaxing for a moment as you were safely sat...
"Woah" You giggled as you flopped backwards.
"Fuck. Shit" Rafe was quick to catch you and study you on the swing again.
You sighed contently and hiccuped a little as Rafe took to swing beside you, shaking his head and letting out a little laugh.
"Love and hate" You muttered "you know what they say about love and hate...."
"Nope, what do they say?" Rafe humoured you as he glanced up at the stars for a moment. "Huh?"
You didn't respond, head slumped against the chain beside you. Rafe panicked as soon as he noticed your eyes closed.
"Shit. No no no no!" He was quickly beside you, taking your face in his hands "No, baby. Come on. Wake up! Look at me" He gently tapped your cheek "Listen to me, baby. Open your eyes"
You slowly opened them and grinned up at him as you stared into his. "Hmm. Your eyes....they are such a pretty blue"
Rafe huffed a laugh as he stroked your cheek "You good?" He asked softly, noticing how warm you felt "You're burning up"
You hummed and nodded before shaking your head as Rafe stood up. Suddenly you lurched forward and throw up. Luckily missing Rafe and his shoes.
He sighed as he sat on the swing next to you and gently smoothed your hair as you groaned.
222 notes · View notes