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classyrbf · 3 months ago

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DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, toji x fem!reader, angst angst angst, megs is 17, absent father, family trauma, young love, arguing, talks of pregnancy, talks of killing/assassination, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

based on: like him by tyler the creator

“Alright move closer into the photo—yep! Perfect!” Your mom held the camera up to her eye, slightly bending down. “Alright, three…two…one!” She snapped the photo, smiling as she looked at you and Toji.

It was Megumi’s first birthday, friends and family surrounding to celebrate. Endless gifts and food, music playing over the speakers. Small children ran around the yard, infectious laughter filling the air. The sun shined brightly, not a cloud in the sky. You were happy. Toji held Megumi tight in arm, looking down at the baby with a full head of jet black hair.

You and Toji had met in high school, falling for each other in an instant. You were captivated by his silent and mysterious presence and Toji was capture by your smile and the way your eyes shined in the light. But neither of you expected to end up with a baby boy just two years later after graduation. Not a single moment was regretted. You wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Happy birthday, little man,” he scoffed, holding Megumi above his head. He babbled, giggling as he chewed on his chubby fingers, smiling at his father with love in his eyes.

“I can’t wait to frame this one. You guys look so cute.” Your mom pouted, walking back into the house to put the camera away.

A soft smile spread across your face, holding onto Toji’s arm. “Did you ever think you’d become a dad?” You suddenly asked, watching as your baby played with the fabric of his shirt.

Toji turned towards you, a confused look on his face. “No, but…I’m happy I did. You know I’d do anything for you two.” Toji pulled you in by your waist. “Did you ever think you’d become a mom?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand out to move hair out Megumi’s face. “It’s just weird. We were so young, you know? We still are. But, it feels right.” You rested your heard on his shoulder, letting out a small sigh. A small laugh erupted from your chest, “I carry him for nine months and he came out looking exactly like you.”

“What can I say? I got strong genes, baby.” He nudges you slightly, teasing.

“Oh, hush. I did all the work.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m only messing with you.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Go on, give mama a kiss, little man.” He holds Megumi towards you. As if on cue, he leans his head down and places his slobbery mouth on your forehead. “There you go! Good job!” He chuckles, smiling at his son. “I can’t wait until you’re older so I can teach you about all sorts of things.” Megumi grabs ahold of Toji’s finger in his small palm, squeezing it. “Gonna teach you all types of sports, how to fight so you can protect mommy. I bet you’ll be a good baseball player.” Megumi squeals at Toji. “Baseball? Yeah? Alright, baseball it is.” He kisses his cheek.

You stand there, admiring your two favorite boys. It’s like you see the future when you look at them. A happy life, a cozy home. Maybe even a sibling for Megumi. A ring on your finger, happily married. Thinking of the days when Megumi starts going to school and brings back all his little projects so you can put them in a box and keep them for the future. You already had so much planned at such a young age, but you were determined to fight for it. For him. For your son.

Megumi sits on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. The ceiling fan provides a low hum as it spins. He stares at the wilted paper in his hand, a handwritten note to him—one he’s never seen until now. His chest feels tight, tears welling in his eyes as he reads who it’s from over and over again.

—Your Dad

It feels like he can’t breathe, anger swirling through him. He thinks of all those times you dismissed his questions and conversations about his father—whoever his father was. And now, he was holding a note from him that was written fifteen years ago. A note of how sorry he is and nothing else. A man of few words. No explanation, nothing.

Growing up, Megumi learned from a young age that he looked just like ‘him’. His grandmother and grandfather always slipping up, staring at him like a ghost had just walked in the room. It only got worse as he grew older, starting growing into his features. You even began to stare at him, a look of sadness in your eyes. He never would say anything, always keeping his mouth shut like he didn’t notice. Not once, did you ever speak of his father. Hell, he didn’t even know his name or what he looked like, but from what he’s been told, he probably looks like an older version of him.

All those days, watching fathers bond with their sons, his friends dads coming to sports games, school events, he always felt like deep down something was missing. He felt different. Every Father’s Day, being tasked to make something special in school for their fathers, but how is a nine year old supposed to say he doesn’t have one? How is a thirteen year old supposed to participate in the father-son day at school when he doesn’t have one? How is a seventeen year old supposed to feel when he sees everyone posting their dads on social media, a heartfelt message written with each one, yet he doesn’t even have a photograph to remember him by?

Tears fall on the paper and the hurt that he held back is now manifesting. Why was so hard for you to say anything about him? Was he dead? Is that why it was so hard? Yet, there was no excuse. Whatever it was, he needed to know why he left. Why he was so sorry. It wasn’t until he heard the front door open, your calming voice calling out to him.

“Megs, I’m home!” You shut the door, placing your bag on the countertop.

The door to his bedroom swung open, fresh tears still on his cheeks, the wrinkled note gripped in his hand. He stomped towards you. “What is this?” His nostrils flared.

A crease between your brows formed, noticing the distressed look on his face before your eyes landed on what he was holding. You felt your heart drop, your mouth falling open to say something, anything, but nothing came out. “Meg—”

“What is this? Huh?! I found it in the back of your drawer! A note from my dad!” He slammed the paper down. “Who is he?! Why did he leave?!” He was screaming, his anger pouring out through his words. “You never talk about him! No one does!” He throws his hands up. “You kept…you fucking kept this from me! Fifteen years!” Hot tears spill from his eyes.

Your eyes widen, your lip quivering as you hold back tears. “I’m sorry.” Your voice breaks. “I’ve been wanting to tell you—”

“When? When, mom?! I don’t even know his fucking name! I don’t know what he looks like! There’s not a single picture in this house of him? Is he even alive?!” The look in his eyes makes you want to break down. You knew this day would come sooner or later, but you never expected it to turn out this way. The note. Of course it was the note. Almost like it was fate.

You inhaled deeply, licking your lips as tears fall. “I’m sorry, baby. I just…”

“Why can’t you tell me?” He speaks softly, voice wavering. “I see it in your face. Everyday when you look at me…you can see him. Who is my dad?” He clenches his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. “Why did he leave us? Why did he leave me?” He questions before fully breaking down into tears, sobbing.

“No,no,” you whisper, taking him in your arms. His tears soak through the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you like his life depends on it. “It’s not your fault, baby? You hear me? It’s not his, not yours. It’s complicated.” As you stand there with him in your arms, flashbacks of that night Toji left flood your brain.

“Then where is he? Is he dead?” Megumi asks, raising his head to look at you. The question makes you freeze up, biting on your bottom lip so hard you’re sure to draw blood. “Is he dead, mom?” He stands up straight, wiping his tears.

“I…I don’t know,” you sniffle, shrugging your shoulders. You shake your head as you look at your son, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed. So hurt and disgusted. “He loved you so much, Megumi. I promise you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have left!” He shouted in anger. “Who is he?! Just tell me!” He pleads through his cries.

“His name was Toji. Toji Fushiguro.” You stare at him. “Me and your father met young, back in high school. We had you two years after we graduated. We were so scared. Well, I was scared, but your father was ready. He was so excited,” you chuckle, remembering when you first told him you were pregnant. “He loved you, Megumi. And that’s the exact reason why he left,” you explain.

He shakes his head at you. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your father did everything he could to provide for me and you. You were his everything. His little man. But, he got caught up with the wrong people trying to find ways to make quick money. He was young and desperate, we both were.” Your eyes flutter shut, letting out a sigh. “What your father did for money…you wouldn’t think he was a good man. He made enemies—”

“Mom, what are you saying?! I’m not a kid anymore! Just tell me—”

“He killed people, Megumi! Is that what you wanna hear! He fucking killed people just so he could put food on the table! Fuck!” You hurriedly stand to your feet, looking away from him.

“What…?” He nearly said in a whisper.

“I don’t want you to think he wasn’t a good man, Megs. I don’t want you think he hated you or me. He didn’t. But what he was doing put him and us in danger. He realized that and he left. He couldn’t put us in danger, especially you. That night he left he wrote you this.” You grabbed the note off the counter. “I begged him to stay, baby. I did. I tried. I tried everything.” Megumi sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly ahead of his as he took all this information in. “He never stopped loving you, Megs. He never wanted to leave.”

He slowly turned to look at you, his chest heaving up and down. His eyes were red and glossy from crying. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, baby. He never told me.” You shook your head. He sobbed softly, holding his head in his hands. You walked over, sitting beside him and pulled him into your arms. “Don’t hate him,” you whispered. “He’d be so proud of the man you became. Such a sweet, strong, and smart boy.”

“When did he leave?” Megumi asked.

“A week after your second birthday,” you spoke, biting at the skin on your lip. “He told me you were the best thing to ever happen to him.” You wipe away his tears as they continue to fall. “He’s not a bad guy, he’s just done bad things.”

Now knowing what happened to his father, Megumi felt like his whole world came crashing down. What his father did, who he was. How he came to be. And as much resentment as he holds, he can’t bring himself to hate him. In a way, he understands, but at the same time he doesn’t. He wonders how different things would be if he was here. What life would be Ike. “I’m sorry, mom,” he cried.

“Don’t be, baby. I’m sorry for keeping from you for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to think he was a bad man. I was scared.” You continue to hold him in your arms, consoling him.

“What does he look like?” He asks.

You smile, looking down at him. “You guys are damn near twins.”

Megumi chuckles a little, “I figured.”

“Wait there a moment.” He watches as slip into your bedroom, a few second passing by before you walk out with something in your hands. “Here.”

Megumi looks down, seeing the array of photos you hold on your hands and hesitates on taking them from you. You sit beside him as he grabs them and looks at the first one. “Is that him and you?” He asks, never taking his eyes off the photo.

“Back in high school.” It was one of the first few photos you and Toji ever took together. A picture at the homecoming dance, a plain look on his face while you had a wide smile on your face. “Your father barely ever smiled. But when you came around, he couldn’t stop.”

Megumi was struck. He really did look like him. From the hair, to the eyes, to the nose. Everything. He looked at the next photo. You were pregnant, Toji holding your belly while kissing your cheek. “You guys looked really happy,” he says.

“Of course we were. Me and your dad loved each other very much. I still love him.” Megumi looks over at you as you say those last words. You still hold so much hope and love in your heart and that tells him maybe he should let this resentment for his father go. Maybe it was time to move on.

“Was this my birthday?” He questions, looking at the family photo your mother took of you three that day. He could see a faint smile on his father’s face, looking at the way Toji held him so close in his arms.

“Your very first birthday. So many good memories. Despite the fact you threw up on your dad’s shirt,” you laughed.

“Really?!” Megumi smiles. You nod, still giggling. “Yikes, he must’ve been pissed.”

“At first he was mad, but then saw you started crying after and felt horrible. I remember his exact words, ‘Stop crying, little man. You can throw up on this shirt a thousand times if you want to.’ He could never stay mad at you.” You brush his cheek, watching his smile get wider and wider.

He finally gets to the last picture. One you took of Toji asleep with Megumi on his chest. “I took that picture after it took him three hours to get you to sleep. You didn’t want to sleep in your crib, kept crying and crying and finally your father just fell asleep with you on his chest.” You watch as he runs his thumb over the picture, observing it more than he did the other ones. “You can keep it if you want.”

“Really?” He glanced at you, a desperate look in his eye.

“Of course.” You kissed his cheek. “I have more we can look at later.”

Megumi nods. There’s a moment of silence as he sits and goes through the pictures again, almost like he’s reliving memories he had no recollection of. “So, you really don’t know if he’s alive or not?”

You shake your head. “Like I said, what your father did caused him to get caught up with the wrong people, making enemies out of anyone. He was never scared of them, of course. But he knew if they ever found out about you or me, it wouldn’t end well.,” you explained. “I wish I knew.”

“Is it weird that I miss him?” He turned towards you, confused. “How can I miss someone I don’t even remember?” His eyes became teary.

“Oh, Megs.” You wiped his tears. “It’s not weird at all, sweetheart. I’m sure he misses you too. A whole lot.” You give him a sad smile.

He sniffles, looking down at the pictures. It was like he finally felt this weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. After years of this gut wrenching feeling, he finally knows the truth. His father did love you. Love him. He no longer felt casted aside. And that feeling gave him hope that maybe he’s still out there, still alive.

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk angst #toji x reader #toji angst #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushiguro x reader angst #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi angst #megumi fishiguro angst #jjk x reader angst #Spotify

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endzithefangirl · 5 months ago

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"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV"

Authors note: Here's a little Max Verstappen x TechCEO!Reader. Bet you didn't see that comng. Anyway, got the idea for this a few days ago, and I guess my love of Italian food made me finish this

Summary: Max's new relatioship causes a social media stir, but the new couple couldn't care less whilst in Italy.

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader

Word count: 2k

You understood it, to a degree. Max had just broken off a three-year-long relationship right before summer break, and now suddenly he was spending the summer with you. Now you’re at the paddock... No wonder people thought there was some crossover.

The truth? You two met last New Year's at a party for some sporting event. You, being one of the sponsors for your country's national sports committee, were invited, and Max... well, Max was Max Verstappen. You hit it off, exchanged numbers, showed him around your company a few times, and took him to all of your favorite restaurants in NYC. But you knew he had a girlfriend; everyone knew. And he was taking care of her kid too.

That breakup was hard on him. He had stopped loving her, but he couldn't just kick a woman and her kid out of his house. Max waited for them to have a huge fight, and then they just... broke up. And to your surprise, he was in New York the next day, saying that he needed someone to talk to. Bullshit. You knew he liked you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here 'just to talk.'

But here you were, in Italy, spending time with him before Monza. You were currently typing away on your phone, trying to make peace in the finance department. Max glanced up from his phone every so often, stealing peeks at you while grinning.

He had never quite been so into someone like you. You were smart, funny, talented, pretty, and on top of all that - you were also rich. But you were also the most challenging girl to flirt with Max had ever met.

"You look like you could use a break," he said, after watching you tap away at your work laptop for a few minutes.

"Probably. What's the point of having interns if they don't do anything?"

"Then you should consider hiring me; I'm pretty good at helping out," Max teased, looking up from his phone and sending you a cheeky smile. He loved a woman who was in power, who knew what she was doing, and he could tell you were used to being the boss. "Come on, take a break. You know you deserve it," Max encouraged, resting his hand on top of yours to stop you from working some more.

"I guess I could eat…" You say, closing your laptop. "I saw on Google Maps that there’s a nice pizza place down the road. We can go if you’re hungry.”

Max smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m starving; let’s go,” he said, reaching for the car keys.

“No, it’s okay, let’s walk,” you stop him. He turned towards you, slightly confused. Usually, women would give anything to drive around with Max Verstappen. Maybe that’s just what makes you special.

The two of you walked out of the hotel, your bodyguard Lenny standing outside the door. The tall, muscular man just nodded as the two of you entered the elevator. Max found it funny that you preferred Lenny guard your stuff more than you. Especially the laptop. He sometimes wondered what you kept in there...

“Is Pierre gonna be at the race?” you asked as you exited the building, breaking the silence.

Max’s head snapped towards you, and he raised his brow. “Uh, yes, of course he is… Why?”

“Because I want to see Kika.”

“Oh, so she’s your secret F1 crush, eh?” Max said, relaxing.

You laughed. “Pierre is a solid seven with a better haircut. Kika is a twelve on a bad day.”

As you got to the bigger streets, you started to understand why Max drove everywhere. Unlike you, who were a chiller and niche celebrity, despite being incredibly rich, Max was a real superstar. Your short walk to the pizza shop became a fan meet and greet, with people coming up to you every three seconds and asking for photos.

“Is this your girlfriend?” one of the people asking for a picture asked. As you finished taking the photo, you noticed Max’s slightly flustered face as he heard the question. He stumbled, but you answered with a simple “Yeah.”

As you arrived at the restaurant, you noticed that Max was staring at you. He seemed… surprised. You laughed at his facial expression. The sound of your laugh calmed him instantly, his heartbeat beginning to return to normal. Max cursed himself in his head; he was better than this. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it something I said?"

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks heating up slightly. "No, no... Not really," he reassured you, trying to sound casual. "I was just... thinking."

"Okay, well I'm thinking about the food. I think a Vesuvius sounds great right now."

Max chuckled and quickly glanced down at the menu to hide his embarrassment. "Vesuvius? What the hell is a Vesuvius?" he asked, though his eyes scanned down the menu, searching for it.

"It's a type of pizza," you teased. "It's been like three minutes; have you not even skimmed the menu?"

Max fidgeted under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks again. "What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You tell me. Why are you staring?" Max shook his head, glancing up at you questioningly. He had no idea what you were thinking about. "No... What are you thinking about?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"There are pots from 4000 years ago found in ancient Egypt that are made out of an incredibly difficult to manage material and are cut to such perfection that they balance on their round bottom."

Max's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting something totally different. Something that had at least a little bit to do with him. He chuckled, still somewhat surprised as he studied your face. "Where did that come from?" he asked incredulously.

"The Egyptians. They were like, cooking pots and stuff. Royal cooking pots probably, but still," you teased.

Max chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're thinking about cooking pots, and here I am, just trying to figure out what I did to make you say that we're together so casually."

"What do you mean? Are we not together?"

"Well, of course we're together," Max said, his voice taking on a more serious tone now. He glanced around the restaurant briefly, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. "I just... I didn't expect you to say it so casually," he said, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know we were keeping it a secret. I mean, I was at the paddock and all last time, and I took days off work to come to this race—"

Max shook his head, realizing you completely misunderstood what he was saying. "No, no, it's not that... I just..." he began, struggling to find the right words. He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting in his lap. "It's just... you're so casual about it... and I'm... a bit too flustered for my own good," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice.

You softened up a bit. "Oh, okay, I get it. It was just a bit too shocking for you... Yeah, sorry."

Max felt his heartbeat a little faster when you softened, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it was a bit... unexpected for me," he chuckled, feeling somewhat silly for being so flustered. "But it's fine, honestly."

"Do you think my stomach is gonna have space for gelato later? There's a really good gelateria; I can see it from the window... They make the ones with the macarons..."

Max chuckled, loving how you were so excited about the gelato. "Well, based on the amount of pizza you usually eat," he teased, a smirk on his face. "I'd say you're probably fine."

"No, they put the macarons on the gelato."

"On the gelato?" Max repeated, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"I've never heard of such a thing," he said, leaning forward to get a better look out the window at the gelateria you were talking about. "Well, in that case," he said with a grin, "we're definitely going there for dessert."

After eating so much that your belts barely held, you came back to the hotel, Lenny greeting you at the door as usual. Max's stomach was stuffed to the brim, but he was in such a good mood from the good food and even better company, he didn't even care. He walked back into the hotel together with you, his hand still holding yours. Lenny greeted the two of you as usual, but Max couldn't help but notice the way Lenny looked at you, like he was analyzing you.

"All good, Len. You go to your room for the night," you said to Lenny. He nodded, smiled at the both of you, and then went off. Max watched as Lenny walked off, then turned to you, a small frown on his face.

"He was looking at you funny," he said, a protective edge to his voice.

"He thinks it's funny. That I'm dating a Formula 1 driver."

"What's so funny about that?" he protested, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "He just... I don't know, he's a big fan of yours I don't think he's processed it yet". Max's frown relaxed as you explained it, his ego immediately soothed a bit. Of course he was a big fan of his, who wasn't?

"Oh, so he's a big fan?" he teased, a hint of pride and cockiness in his voice.

You take your shoes off and lay on the bed, your stomach bloated from all the good food "Yeah. Talk to him a bit, I think it'll make him happy" You let out groan as you move "I hate you Italy. You has so much good food... I love it though"

Max chuckled, watching as you dramatically threw yourself onto the bed, your stomach protesting the amount of food you just had. "You're such a drama queen sometimes," he teased, grinning as he took off his shoes as well and joined you on the bed. He lays down beside you, running a hand over your bloated stomach. "You'll be fine," he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I saw on TikTok?"

Max raised an eyebrow in curiosity, his hand now resting on your stomach. He didn't typically pay too much attention to TikTok, but he was more than happy to listen to you.

"What did you see?" he asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Well first of all, I'm a WAG now. Thank you for that, I will be putting that on my CV. But second, they liked that I was wearing Red Bull merch. I thought they wouldn't like it, but they did"

Max chuckled as you spoke, amused by how casually you mentioned being a WAG, and how seriously you were taking the fact that you were wearing Red Bull merchandise. "Well, of course they liked it," he said with a smirk. "You were wearing the merch of the best team out there."

He gave you a smug look, his hand moving up and tracing a lazy pattern on your stomach. "Not to mention the merch of the best driver out there."

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula 1

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vifilms · 4 months ago

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≛ THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

♪ ˚. THE BRAT CHALLENGE ♱ ⋆.˚

feat. drummer!abby x fem!reader x footballplayer!ellie

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: switch!abby (kinda), jealousy, cheating, abby’s pierced nipples, reader desc. feminine, fingering, munch activities, toxicity ensuing, voyerisum, strap sex.

THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE, ellie williams, sporting 88’ on the back of her jersey, the world renowned football player from the united states. the overly competitive blood runs through her veins, passed down from her father, just as well as an overpowering ego the size of texas. she has the girl of her dreams, the most important game of her life in sight, but what happens when one drummer threatens to wreck it all?

wc. 10k

It’s easy to feel safe and comfortable with her, slipping into a simple life. Traveling the world with your favorite soccer player, the auburn-haired five-foot-five of pure talent, as soon as her custom cleats step foot on the field.

When the crowd echoes chants of her name, the rumbling of the rowdy fans, aggressive shouts cursing the other team. With crushed beer cans, sunflower seeds are spat on the ground, and they are begging for a goal. The 88’ jersey was littered across the stands. Every fan in the arena went to see her, yet you aren’t here.

It was one of the biggest games of her career, and you would not be seen anywhere, especially after the past week. She doesn’t blame you; Ellie could only blame herself but needs her good luck charm. The events replaying in her mind, haunting her while she tries to get one wink of sleep, but the look of horror in your eyes, the shoulder check you left her with, green eyes pleading to reason with her, but you refused.

Let me know when you want to grow the fuck up and tell me what’s wrong with you.

The words running in her mind, haunting her as she sleeps at night, wondering if today is the day the stone will be unturned or if she’ll actually tell you everything bothering her. But she doesn’t. Never had she seen you like it; rage carries higher than the waves of a tsunami, and all of it, every drop of water, seems to be crashing over her.

Every drop of it suffocates her until there is no oxygen left to breathe.

When she gets home, she scours the apartment for a trace of you, yet half of your belongings are absent. Ellie starts to wonder if she’s pushed you too far this time. Always, she’s betted on you sticking around through thick and thin but maybe you finally had enough.

Has she pushed you too far? Are you too far out of reach? She has no choice but to let you drown with the devil itself, succumbing to your own needs for once, not hers.

The side of the closet holding your belongings was in disarray. Ellie could see that your favorite belongings were absent. All the sweaters, hoodies, hell, even the flannels you would steal from her were meticulously folded and placed in the corner.

Ellie thought you would give her the benefit of the doubt. She thought you would let her explain why she had taken the job offer without consoling you. Now, considering what she seems to be losing, there’s nothing she wishes for more than to take it all back.

Any success is so trivial if she has no one to celebrate it with, not without you.

From the very start, you’ve been right there by her side. From the very beginning, it wasn’t as picture-perfect as she imagined. The fairytale began with what she thought would be a never-ending love story.

Something so pure, it could never turn rotten.

—

Growing up on the outskirts of New York had its perks. The small town was busy, yet the countryside tucked an hour away gave you a sense of solitude. Entirely predictable suburbs, the cul-de-sac tucked in the back of the neighborhood reeks of disturbed suburbia.

Everyone knew everyone, and you knew Ellie.

You were ten the day the two of you became friends, and you’ll never forget it. Clumsily, you had just fallen off your bike, knees skidding by the concrete as the skin had been peeled, the wound viciously open.

“Did you fall—” the girl shakes her head at herself, curses flying into the wind. “Of course you did. God, so stupid.”

She continues talking to herself as you weep slightly in a pathetic manner. Affectionately, the mysterious girl who also happens to be riding her bike past the park in your neighborhood pats you gently on the shoulder.

“I'll be right back. Stay there. I'll be back. Promise.”

She disappears on her blue and red bike, red hair flying in any direction the wind takes, but returns just like she said — a girl of her word.

“Here, let me fix you.” She grabs the first-aid kid from the bucket on her bike. Ellie kneels on the ground. You notice her bright blue Converse with red laces, which match her bicycle perfectly.

“Yeah, okay—” you sniffle, wiping away your tears as the nice girl tends to your knee. “Thanks.”

She grabs the needed tools, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Well, I used to fix my dad all the time. He's a soccer player and gets hurt a lot.

You stay silent as she rambles on.

“One day, going to be just like him, but better. My old man got too old before he decided to be good. I'm going to be the best player ever.”

“I bet you will be.” your eyes find hers, the sun making them shine like an emerald diamond, just like the one your mom wears on her ring finger.

“My coach says I'm good already but tells me not to get my hopes up.”

You realize Ellie has already cleaned your wound; her small hand applies pressure with the gauze as he wraps it away. She's so concentrated but simultaneously rambles away about her dad, the last soccer game she played in, and jokes to get your mind off the pain.

“How does it feel?” Ellie asks, the corner of her lip upturns, a soft smile gracing her freckled, full cheeks.

“Better,” you thank her, smiling shyly. She observes you as you hop back on your bike, ensuring you aren't in pain. Curiously, her mind drifts to how cute you are, and she wonders why her stomach is in complete knots.

She confuses it for sickness.

“You’re welcome.” Ellie stretches the nape of her neck, and her short hair sticks to her skin from the heat. “I'm Ellie, by the way.”

“I know.” You offer your name as Ellie blushes, her cheeks tinted pink. The love you feel is etched right into her heart, and she feels it from the first moment your name is said.

In a cliche, obvious way, the rest was history.

The two of you were best friends until college, bringing out the best in you—platonic love blossoming into something sweet, a one-in-a-million love you can only hope to find in someone else.

The tricky thing? It works. The two of you fit better than you could have ever dreamed of. The incredible bliss of youth leaves your faith blinded, corrupted by the true love you have for Ellie. Oblivious to flaws, all you see is her. Assuring you follow her around like a lost puppy; anything she wants, she gets. The skeletons in the closet are no match for the two of you, each being dragged out one by one.

But not by either of you.

—

One Week earlier…

“Would you stop so we can talk about this?” Ellie nearly shouts at you, granting her another eye roll, she’s lost count on how many you’ve thrown at her since the two of you left the club. The longing looks, her wandering olive eyes on someone else all night, gawking at the muscles, making you feel envious of someone you couldn’t have.

Your girlfriend’s attention.

But this is all your fault, right?

“Talk about what? How you, Ellie, made a decision to make a life altering decision without me? Yeah, okay, let’s fucking talk.” You have a bite in your voice, one Ellie has rarely heard, the sweetness diluted with her consistent need to keep you in the dark. “Fucking talk, please. I’d love to hear the bullshit excuse you’re gonna give me.”

“Why are you making this a big deal? It’s my career, not yours.” You bite your tongue as the words leave your mouth. Instantly, you feel burned by the person who thought loved you more than anything. Even in the heat of the moment, you figured she would give you the benefit of the doubt, even when you’ve been blind sided by her teammates. All because she was too much of a coward to tell what she’s already done. “Right. Foolish of me to think we’re a team.”

Spitefully, you throw your belongings in your tote, ignoring when she tries to grab your wrist, dodging her quickly. She tries again but stops when you tell her to. The only boundary she leaves untouched it seems.

“We are a team.” Ellie tries to convince you, but you don’t budge. Not an inch of you believes the shit she’s spewing at you.

“Oh! Well, that’s a surprise to me. If we’re such a team, why don’t you tell me why you won’t have sex with me….for eight months?” You raise your eyebrows at her, giving her an opportunity to speak but she stays silent like she always does. “If we’re such a team, why did you accept a job offer on another continent without even giving me the respect to tell me about it before you accepted the offer?”

Ellie stays silent, finding the hardwood beneath her feet more interesting.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You change into something more comfortable, slamming the bathroom door shut as you do, gathering other toiletries, different necessities you would need for the next few weeks.

You find her sitting on the edge of the bed in tears, as much as you want to hug her and give her the comfort she probably needs, there’s no good will in your heart. As much as you love her, only the boiling anger can be found. Blistering frustration, the one someone has when their girlfriend won’t touch them, kiss them, or even warrant them the truth.

“I love you, okay? I just need to figure some things out.” Ellie pouts, eyebrows furrowed as she says enough to get you to look at her. She sees the tears threatening to spill over, but you won’t let them fall in front of her. Never have you liked crying in front of others. Just as if she was anyone else, you would wait until you were in private to lick your wounds. “I just need some time, I just don’t know what’s happening to me.”

But all sincerity is lost, all you see in front of you is lies and deceit. Someone backed in the corner with no way to manipulate their way out.

“Well…figure your shit out, Els. Right now? It doesn’t seem like you do.” You grab your bags, slipping your shoes on, “I’ve had enough for now. Let me know when you grow the fuck up and let me know what’s wrong with you.”

—

Still, your blood boiled from last week’s exchange, the venomous words crawling up your throat like bile, as if this wasn’t what she wanted, what she started. All of this had been her idea.

Time and time again, dismissive words found their way into your heart, making a home before you had enough time to catch them. Sure, committed and faithful, she says. Then, she does this, makes your decisions without consulting you, and scolds you for getting upset about it. You craved space, so you did what any rational person would.

Swiftly packed your bags and flew to the other side of the country.

The fresh feeling is still swarming through your head, and the lingering words are aimed at your heart with more impact than you could stand. When they were told, Ellie regretted them the second they left her heart-shaped lips. Yet she stands there as she analyzes your tense frame, avoiding her at all costs.

You leave her with a soft murmur: staying at a friend’s. What you neglect to mention is that your friend lives on the other side of the country, tucked away in the safety of New York. Luckily, the nightlife is an easy distraction and does its job.

Intentionally, the first few nights are spent drowning yourself in liquor, letting yourself be grinded on by other drunk girls until they buy you shots, walking up back in your hotel room alone — then the cycle repeats.

The tranquility of a life forgotten, the gift of Don Julio, so like anyone else, you chase it. The drinks are free, the girls flirting with you are prettier than you’d ever seen but maybe that’s just the loneliness eating you up from the inside out. Yet, you find yourself itching to venture beneath, allow yourself to drown in someone else. Was there black lace? Possibly white or navy green boxers underneath? But you couldn’t, and you won’t. The guilt would eat you alive.

You told yourself it was just a fight, but was it? It’s when the second thought seeped in, invading the pessimistic part of your brain and feeding into malicious tendencies. Maybe you do want this? Something new?

Someone who wasn’t Ellie.

The thought alone sends shivers down your spine; an agonizing dread fills you. Never had you ever been provoked to leave, but the longer the silence welcomes you with open arms, the more the affliction lingers.

No text. No calls. No voicemails. Nothing.

Part of you ached for resolution. Even if it meant a means to an end, you could somehow soothe the aching in your chest. On the seventh day, she reached out.

A lazy effort of a text — couldn’t even be bothered to call.

elsbaby: can we talk, baby? please.

Perhaps if it had been the day after, two, three, even four — you would have the compassion to empathize. When she comes crying a week later after she spewed the most severe insults you’ve ever heard come out of her mouth? Any need to reconnect has dissipated at the drop of a hat.

this is what you wanted.

It shouldn’t make you spiral, but it does. You end up at a show; a rock band takes center stage at The Wolfhouse, and upcoming musicians try to make a name for themselves. Sitting at the bar, letting the vibrations of the base and the thumping of the snare drum infiltrate

Solemnly tapping the beat of your healed boot to the beat of the drum, you take in the singer on the stage. Black raven-haired beauty with a prominent nose and beautiful lips. She made the stage her own as she worked every angle known to man.

A firm belief is settled in your heart and everyone in there. She was born to be up there. You were too entranced, enjoying the music too much along with the cocktail in your hand, and you didn’t even notice the blonde making her way up to you.

As soon as you felt someone next to you, the first thought in your mind was how hellbent you were to be left alone. Even if it physically put you in distress, fuck, you couldn’t even remember the last time Ellie and you went on a date. The last time she touched you, kissed you, fucked you within an inch of your life.

It’s a pathetic, good for nothing excuse.

The line of morality blurs whenever your eyes latch onto eyes so gray the blue almost fades into them. Gorgeous freckles scattered across her smooth cheeks like twinkling stars in the galaxy.

Slowly, she takes your figure in, examining you up and down before smirking. She says nothing to you as she orders a neat whiskey. She hands her silver credit card to the bartender, “and whatever she wants for the rest of the night.”

You think for a moment she’ll talk to you, but she winks before settling into a booth with four others who look oddly familiar. The rest of the night, you’re met with tranquility and the steady and skilled bump of the bass guitar. It reminded me of when you were young, ambitions were the only thing on your mind, and you were lost in the never-ending need to be someone. It’s when you still believe something is worth living for, more than beating your drum to someone else’s tune.

You sipped on three Mexican martinis throughout the night and got lost when you walked up to the bar. The beefy, muscular blonde was there to greet you. This time, you got a clear look at her. Her rugged and toned frame shows off her commitment to the gym.

Yet, her deep blue pools are more charming than you would like to admit. A delicate edge to her jawline pulls you in as you admire the septum ring decorating her freckled nose, the bump in her nose making you smile softly.

You’ve always loved a girl with an intense nose for many reasons.

Mouth-watering, luscious, bliss - are all the words coming into mind when you’re looking at her. She’s wearing as little clothing as you would expect someone who leans masculine to wear, but fuck does she know it works for her. Black leather vest worn in, eating you up from the inside out, the musky scent filled with mahogany and a dash of vanilla.

The mysterious blonde's lack of undershirt adorns her body and steals the show. Immediately, she commands attention in every conceivable way. As mesmerizing as the raven-haired beauty appears, you would pay a lot to see her front and center on that stage. The shape of her small breasts is the real show in your mind, and the broad and toned torso gives you much to gawk at.

Nearly, you salivate at the defined four-pack she’s sporting. A pretty enticing deep v disappears delectably into her black leather pants as if she’s a modern-day adonis but with divine feminine written all over her. Without one doubt in the world, she knows she’s the hottest piece of ass in this bar, and for some unknown reason, she’s made you her target for the night. Wined and dined you all night without saying more than a sentence to you, and it seems she’s here to collect.

In the forefront of your mind, you believe it’s to serve some self-serving action to get off from what’s between your thighs, the sweet treat every girl has chased in this long week, but your long-term commitment tying you down like handcuffs to the post of your bed Ellie has kept you in.

Petrifying you to your bones, you aren’t sure what to make of the thrill building up; you can’t deny the longer you look at her, the more your thighs rub together in sync with the other.

“So—” With her tall stature, decisively, she steps forward, lips pressing against your ear with her hot breath seeping under your skin, “Are you wet because you know who I am or because you can’t stop looking at my tits?”

“Who are you?” Your eyebrows quirked up, and you wondered why it was a factor. Was she someone you were supposed to know? Now that she said something, there was something familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. “Why would I have any idea who you are?”

Though your pussy has a heartbeat and seems to have a mind of its own. You forget about everything else when the woman gives you a toothy grin, which is too perfect.

“That’s cute, but see, everyone knows who I am—” Abby takes matters into her own hands and begins to nibble on the side of your neck, harshly biting and sucking lightly, taking in the taste of your skin as if she’s trying to find the perfect vein to puncture with her pointy canines. If it were the case, you’d let her suck the life out of you if you got to keep her to yourself for the night. “Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll know by the end of the night.”

She’s passionately driven when her skilled lips and velvet tongue continue to make a mark on you as if you are hers to own, hers to please as she sees fit. You don’t even know her name, but the raging storm of lust isolates you within her honey trap. All of it feels too finite, everlasting, even if it’s just solid concrete to stand on for the night.

Then, you remember Ellie. The longing text sent to you, not even a call. The love of your life, or so you’d always hoped, couldn’t be bothered to call you this entire week. The fallout of an inconceivable aftermath only now did she try to reach out.

“Tell me why you’re soaking wet, baby girl.”

You try to push her back, but she doesn’t even move; her frame is too strong. Now, your warm, firm hand places itself on her defined abdomen, pressing against the clearly defined muscles.

You can’t deny how flushed you’ve become.

This time you are drooling; her thumb wipes away the liquid before she sucks it back into her mouth. Her grin is even more wicked, knowing she has you right where she wants to be.

It’s when you notice the mirrored scorpions, one on either side, her muscular biceps littered with tattoos, and the front of her neck — practically having fuck me written all over her.

You should leave.

You fucking should.

She has an appetite for something else, pulling you by the waistband of your pants, her finger securely wrapped around the belt buckle. Pelvis to pelvis, grinding against you swiftly to see how much you move, and the smile she’s wearing is satisfying enough.

She’s always liked them needy, messy, and so damn right horny they’re putty in her extensive and capable hands.

“I’m waiting.” Her hunger is evident in her tone. She is ready to relish her sudden craving, at least to you.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” you confess, hoping it will steer her away from you, but it’s a pathetic attempt.

“Abby. What else is your concern, babygirl?” Her knee sneaks between your legs, applying pressure to your cunt.

“I—” Almost with a soft thrust of her knee, Abby pushes against your cunt, damping her leather with a fucking desirable slick she’s dying to taste. Although it’s clear you like the chase, she gives it.

Had you had sex in the past eight months, you might have pushed away the overly cocky specimen, but it has been that long. Only making the patch in your panties grow as she teases your pussy.

Abby’s frame blocks anyone from seeing what she’s doing to you, your skirt riding up so much she can see the rounded cheeks slipping out, the black fabric slightly exposed under the bar's dim light. The more she presses, the faster your hips move against her.

Without a care in the world, you slid so far back, and you’re on her thigh, strong arms wrapped around you, whispering filthy nothings in your ear as you get yourself off on the stranger’s muscular body. If the bartender notices, she doesn’t mind. Pretends like you’re not even there. You’re not sure which is more embarrassing.

“Fuck, move those hips. Just like that, yeah.”

The high, the one you’ve wanted from your girlfriend who doesn’t even want to touch you, is so close. There’s a burn in your throat infused by sheer guilt that someone else will bring you to head. Some stranger you don’t know, one handsome stranger, yet when she pushes your panties to the side and thumbs your clit it’s so challenging to care about anyone but yourself.

You moan her name as she touches you, a skilled touch as she lightly pinches and soothes the sensitive bud. She completely enraptured you with the light touch she had to offer. Terrifyingly so, it shouldn’t affect you the way it does.

The look in her eyes would have sent you reeling. Her musky scent is already doing enough for you. You find yourself tangled in the webs of honeydew, suckling until you’ve had enough of the sweet sensation.

You’re just not sure how long it’ll be until you do.

“God, acting like you haven’t been fucked, baby. Such a dirty slut letting me do….well, whatever I want.”

Abby uses her free, dominant hand to guide your hips at a pace she sees fit. A thrill shoots down her spine as your incessant need grows like a flower at the dawn of spring—a tiny seed that is useless unless it bears root flourishing from where it’s planted.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Abby questions. A glimmer of assurance fills her ocean eyes. She was playfully biting your exposed shoulder blade.

“I can get you off right here, or you can come home with me.” the incredible sensation of her pierced muscling punching your skin with a chill, the stainless-steel ball adds a new sensation you weren’t expecting. She suckles and bites, marking you the more bruises as if she’s decorative for her enjoyment. “Or both. I think someone is close. I bet you’re ready to spill on my thigh. Wanna give me every last drop like the whore you are.”

“Your home?” you manage to spit out, trying to ignore the filth she spits, but it only brings you closer to your much-needed euphoric bliss. Abby’s efforts double over as if she’s fucked you before, bouncing her leg as as you ride her thigh, knowing exactly what you need to cum all over her.

Typically, the thread of your orgasm wouldn’t have been so easy to pull, but it seems she’s the one who placed it there in the first place. Months of not being touched left you in the hands of this Greek god who could make you feel whatever you wished for.

She’s cocky, confident, and the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen. Yet, the answer is still hard to find.

“Yeah, angel, my place.” You nod, unable to make a verbal confirmation.

“Gotta hear you say it.” Just then, the feeling that was bubbling spills over and all over her hand as she cups your cunt, thumb continuing to rub at your puffy clit.

“Yes, Yes, Yes.” you curse, chants of ecstasy fumble from your loose lips. Carelessly, you’re focused on the intense heartbeat between your legs, your body convulsing against her.

“What's that? M’not sure if I can wear you over your weeping cunt.” Repeatedly, Abby slaps your cunt as punishment.

“I-I want to, fuck, shit. Oh god, yes. I want to go home with you.” Your body slumps against her as she holds up your weight, and your high fades. Still, you feel blissful against her touch. Any other worry plaguing your mind dissipates, and all you think is her and strong muscles keeping you upright.

“Good girl,” she whispers before paying off the tab and putting the lace material pack in place. You feel the white liquid stick to you, filthy, resting against you—the once taintless fabric coated with the pleasures of your sin. Dizzy, unsteady, breathless — it’s everything you feel.

She thrives on knowing you need her. Even if it’s for tonight, the purpose will be served. Regardless of what she needs, this will be even more of a thrill, and the only thing she uses is her hand—not even her dominant one.

Abby moves your skirt down so your ass is covered again. “C’mon, pretty girl. let’s see how much of a slut you are." She leads you outside while she makes quick work of her phone, and suddenly, there’s a sleek black car, a Cadillac, you assume, with a driver in tow. The windows are tinted enough for you to wonder if it’s even legal. Silver rims, with a diamond emblem in the center shining so bright under the moonlight that it nearly takes your attention from the woman who has you in her grip.

“Last chance? I can have her drive you home.” She smirks, knowing you won’t take the out that’s being so generously given. Perfect, beautiful, she thinks, eyes still dilated from you getting off on her thing and the continuous swipe of the pad of her thumb.

It’s there. The smidge of penance you feel you’re obligated to ask for. Regardless of how amazing it feels, there’s something about the ending. This will be the end of all fuck ups; maybe, there’s still hope for the two of you if you go home. Call Ellie in the morning before the need to suppress the shame.

But don’t you deserve this one thing for yourself?

Everything under the sun has been for the auburn-haired beauty who has held your heart from the moment she patched up your bleeding knee. The moment a total stranger managed to win your heart, an adolescent love that knew nothing of the lesson of heartbreak or the years you chased after Ellie while she was chasing others.

How she let her feelings hover over the friendship of years with no consequence, especially after her long-term high school girlfriend, the one whose heart she broke into a tiny million pieces. Tragically, there still stood an existing fear for you. She was just a kid, but would she move on as quickly now as she did back then? It was as if they meant nothing to her, moving from the next one as if the time spent together had been insignificant, meaningless, just an ease to pass the misery of time.

You feared you would be the same.

Falling under the same umbrella, but you hope you are different. There were talks of marriage and settling into the countryside once she could retire. A shared dream, you thought. Perhaps it was a foolish sin to keep close to your heart.

Then there was Abby, a heavenly distraction from all the dread waiting for you. Everything you must pick back up eventually if you want to stay tucked into the nightlife of New York is just your dreams hanging up on the shelf, totting away with the relationship. An expiration date was labeled on the two of you, and an impending doom you could only fall through.

Everything was always for her.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

“What’s it going to be, princess?” She pulled you towards as she spun you around with ease, back pulled to her chest, her lips kissing your ear. All you could focus on was how strong she felt. Her strong hold bending you to her will wouldn’t be a challenge. If she wanted to, she could do whatever she liked. You are sure no isn’t a word she’s used to hearing.

But it went further than just how she looks.

It’s in the way she doesn’t even have to lift a finger to have you hooked on her. It entices you, thinking about how long she’d been staring at you all night. The curve of your ass in your tight, little skirt — was she staring at it? Did she think about all the ways she could fuck your perfect little hole if you would let her do everything she’d been thinking of? The way your hardened nipples poked through your mesh top. If she said anything, you could blame it on the draft, not just her sheer presence making them protrude through the fabric.

She did no work whatsoever to make you cum, letting you use her to get yourself off. There was an ease to it. One you hadn’t experienced before.

Here she is, using it against you again.

“Am I coming in the car with you, or will you rub your clit, alone, wishing you’d let me fuck you in all the ways I’ve been dreaming?” Her hands sneak under the lace, pinching your nipples between her thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way your hips buck up, aching to be touched by her again.

“Just give in, baby. I know you want to.” Her dominant hand abandons your nipple, leaving the other to tease it. While she escapes underneath your skirt once again, “So wet for me already, huh?” Harshly, she grips your cunt, a finger sliding up your slit, but she’s intentional about not letting it slip in.

“I-I shouldn’t, shit, oh my g—” You try to think of an excuse, one good enough to convince yourself you should not go through with this. “I really shouldn’t.”

“And?” Abby’s canines dig into the side of your neck as she teasingly bites the flesh, soothing it with a velvet tongue, making more marks on the side she hadn’t touched tonight. “Are you taken?”

“That’s a complicated question.” Abby grins at your response with a sinister smirk.

“Well, if she’s not making you happy, let me do it for her.” Abby tilts your jaw, forcing you to gaze at her.

“Let me guess, no one has touched this perfect pussy in a long time. So, fucking neglected, huh?”

“I didn’t say I had a—”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” Your pussy dripping with shame at her words.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You admit. Abby continues to torture you with the split of your slit, the two of you starting to draw attention, but you think it just excites her even more. “I haven’t felt—”

The moment you say the words, Abby spins you around. You whine at her touch leaving your pussy, but she makes up for it slightly when her hands palm your ass. “Tell me. Look me in my eyes, baby, and tell me what you need. I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your hands weave themselves into her golden locks. You are intertwined with the waves that disguise themselves as shimmering waterfalls. But you look down as you try to think of some excuse to leave and make yourself leave with dignity.

Big mistake.

The happy trail, the blonde hair travels inside her pants, leaving you in awe underneath the moonlight. Abby’s leather vest pushed off slightly, her tits still covered with black pasties.

“Why don’t you take them off? Wanna see my pretty tits, baby?” You nod with too much eagerness. Abby chuckles.

She watches with a smirk as you take them off. The silver, shining barbell has you moan at the sight of them—the sight of her. Smudged black eyeliner makes her appear even more irresistible, hooded eyes gazing at you; a gentle hand finds your throat, applying pressure with her thumb, constraining your breathing slightly.

“Fuck, they are perfect.” You confess, your eyes gleaming at her pink nipples exposed before meeting with her eyes once again.

“Yeah, they are, but they would look even better with your pretty lips around them.”

She will not give up.

“This is such a bad idea.” Abby knows your mind is made up, and you’ll come home with her. Even if the guilt swarms like a bee to a honey hive, it’s all the same to her. “But, God, you’re so fucking hot.”

Your hands roam her toned, tattooed torso, the scorpions so delicious you want to outline every detail with your tongue. The thought of being strong has worn off—only the woman before you is on your mind.

“Well, to me, it seems you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” Fingertips grazing her tits, her nipple hardening underneath you touch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want after I’m done with you. Well, if you still have the energy.”

A grumbling of frustration leaves your lips — you aren’t sure if it’s a desperate plea, a sigh of relief, or something else entirely.

“Like what?” You can’t stop touching her breasts, continuing to tease her pink nipple, but you meet her eyes. Abby’s positive you’ve never seen a smirk so wide.

“What do you like?” Abby pushes your hair back, fuck me eyes looking up at her. The ones that hadn’t left from the moment you laid eyes on her. She leans down just a little so her lips are pressed against your ear, “Do you wanna fuck my ass? Want me to sit on your gorgeous face while you eat me out? Fuck me in front of the mirror and watch my face when I cum?”

Grabbing your hair, she yanks it. Exposing the expanse of your neck. She’s grown so fond of marking. The slick between her thighs continued to blossom as you let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Like a whimpering bitch in heat, you took everything she had to offer.

Fuck it.

You cradle her face with her palms, smashing her lips to yours. It’s all tongue and teeth. Rough palms squeezing your ass, making you grind into her again. Your force casually lets her stumble into the car but you don’t let up. Whimpering and moaning into her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, as if this moment will slip right through your fingers.

Her breath smells of fresh mint, her tongue casually dominates yours, staking claim to what she already believes to be hers. It’s then you realize your forever doomed because you feel the fluttering in your stomach as she growls in your mouth, animalistic — your pelvis grinding against her much more defined one.

You pull apart for one moment, unable to take one more moment away from her.

If you don’t get it, her tongue, her cunt, those pretty fingers decorated in silver jewelry, hell, you would settle for her pierced nipples rubbing against your clit.

“Abby?” She stops, opening her eyes to see you. You’re even more fucked out than she is. “Yes, baby?” She hums into your mouth, the sweet sensation vibrating your entire body.

“Let’s stop giving everyone a show and give me one.” Abby nods, the first sign of her eagerness as she opens the door for you, unable to keep her hands off you.

“We better go before you soak my car then, hm?” She slaps your ass as she leads you in.

—

As she has you in tow, hand in yours leading you towards the elevator in her building, the most luxurious one you’ve seen, one so high you’re sure it’s the highest in the skyline of New York City.

It isn’t surprising she has her own driver, or she lives in the penthouse of the building, even the plaques decorating the wall — a shrine to her evident success. Everything just…makes sense. Yet there’s a pit in your stomach, crawling and feasting. It's swarming within you, a nagging incessant fly buzzing around warning you to run. You don’t have much time to think about how horrible of an idea this is.

Alone with someone who could easily overpower you, at the mercy of a complete stranger yet when she puts her arms around your waist, all of it seems to melt away. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You’re just thinking too much.

That’s all it is.

The little voice chants in your head, trying to make excuses for yourself as to not go through with this but they dissipate when her calloused palms find home on your waist. Soothing over your delicate skin, enticing you into her impenetrable web. Everything about her intoxicates you. Making every thought vacant your head, even more so when she starts playing with the hem of your skirt.

“Let me get you a drink.” She kisses your temple before going behind the makeshift bar in the dining room. An assortment of every liquor component known behind her. Part of you thinks she’s doing it for show, the way her biceps flex as she shakes the drink in the silver canister, pointingly making the drink you’d been ordering all night long.

So, she had been watching you all night. You knew if she wasn’t as hot as she is, you’d be creeped out. But it’s hard to be creeped out when she’s still shirtless, the black leather vest doing very little to cover her. Any time she moves you see her pink pierced nipples, nearly making you salivate.

With the Mexican martini in her grip, with her own in the other, you’re stuck. You didn’t think she’d actually want to have a conversation with you. Leading you out to the balcony, almost the entire view of the city before your very eyes, practically causing you to freeze in your footsteps.

“Wow.” Unable to conceal it, you voice your immediate awe. Abby chuckles, the first sign of sincerity you’ve seen all night. Everything else only seemed as a woman trying to get a needed fuck but right now but she hasn’t even tried to even so much as kiss you. Taking small sips of her whiskey, hip touching yours as the moonlight reflects from the water to her blue eyes, nearly as vivid as the moon itself.

“Yeah, it’s quite a view, think it’s the only thing keeping me coming back here. I’m on the road so much, it’s nice to have some stability.” Abby smiles softly, the confession tumbling from her lips before she can catch it. ”A pretty penny for me to keep it but it’s worth it.”

“Is this your move then?” You know the martini is doing the talking for you, if not you’d be a mumbling mess unable to form one sentence that even sounds remotely coherent. Abby quirks one of her blonde eyebrows upwards but keeps her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue. “Is this what you do with everyone?”

Abby takes a step closer to you, giving you all her attention. She plays with the chain on your neck, pulling it lightly to bring you closer to her. Carefully eyeing you up and down, smirking as she does, “Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie like I do with everyone else?”

It’s more than you expected her to offer. A careless lie would have suited her more. If there is one thing you know for sure, Abby could get anyone she wants and she wouldn’t have brought you here if she didn’t want you to be here.

“Are you capable of the truth? M’not sure you are.” For once, Abby is a bit silent. Carefully, she contemplates on what to say next. She isn’t sure what she should say. Usually she’s the one laying the honey traps for the swarming bees but right now? Abby feels like the control is slipping from her grip.

She can’t have that.

“Which one is going to make that guilt easier on your conscience?” Abby smirks as the shame fills your eyes. “It’s a girlfriend, isn’t it? It always is.” Anyone else would take two steps back, maybe even see themselves out but you want to prove a point.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The immediate rejection of your very real girlfriend fills you with even more shame than you know what to do with. Abby chuckles at the omission, the way your voice shrieks out the statement with a sense of urgency. A desperate action to cover the truth. “Sure you don’t.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Your voice raises as you lean into Abby, her firm hands on your waist as you both face each other. Abby nods, tongue poking through her cheek, pulling at your necklace once again. Admiring the curve in the E, the gold chain shining. It’s a pretty necklace, probably one your girlfriend gave you but Abby makes no comment of it.

“Yeah, okay, and I hate pussy.” Abby giggles. You think it’s so cute, it shouldn’t even be funny, but it is. Just like earlier in the night, you’re so close to her, nothing as slim as a sheet of paper could fit in between the two of you. Without even thinking about it, you rest your hand on her abdomen again, her strength tangible as you feel her up once again. Truly, you’re unable to stop touching her. Every part of you wants this to happen, even if it comes back to bite you in the ass, the curiosity and your fluttering cunt can’t really think of anything else.

“You can still walk out that door. Just say the word and my driver will take you home.” Abby whispers into the busy street beneath you, it’s so faint from the distance but the two of you can hear it. “Or you can let me slide your pretty little skirt up and let me make a slut of you, babygirl.”

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it’s your throbbing clit, maybe it’s the lack of contact in months, most of all maybe it’s the fact Ellie took so long to reach out, but you give in. Throwing your arms around her neck, pulling her lips to yours, regardless of the possible consequence looming after you, threatening to tear apart the picture perfect life you thought you’re living.

All of it happens in a blink of an eye. Abby’s tongue staking claim, dominating in ways you didn’t know were possible before she’s pushing your front against the balcony, placing your hand on the railing. With ease, she maneuvers your body in just the way she wants. “Gotta tell me yes pretty girl, that’s the only way this is going to start.”

Facing the view, the buzzing city filled with nightlife and wonder, endless possibilities on your fingertips but you’re thinking about her hands. How much you want them inside you, fucking you full, or the strap in her pants you’d be rubbing against earlier. The thoughts of her slipping her cock inside you, claiming you in a way no one has in awhile. Making you feel wanted, needed, even if it was a fleeting feeling just for the night. You deserve it. Just one, stupid, decision — you were owed at least one.

“Yes, s’what I want. You.” That’s all it takes before Abby pushes your skirt to your waist, sliding off your panties as she allows you to step out of them.

“Are you sure?” Abby questions you. She pushes off from you, you hear her zipper being brought down as you look back at her, her vest being chucked to the lawn chair by the pool.

Fuck.

If she’s even half as good as she’s claiming to be, you are so fucked.

“I’m sure.”

Abby wraps her hands around your waist again, hands dipping under your shirt as she squeezes your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with her fingers. You sigh instantly, loving the stimulation she’s providing. You feel the barrel of her tongue piercing as she lightly sucks behind the sweet spot behind your ear, as if Abby's the one to place it there in the first place.

“Good.” Abby teases your entrance with her cock, your body shuddering as it slides over your folds, using your slick as lubricant. Already, you’re grinding against her, just like before as she guides your hips in the pace she likes. “Do you like getting off on my cock, baby?”

“Mhm, yeah, I do.” It’s all but a whisper. Abby still hears you speak, slapping your ass playfully, blunt fingers digging into the skin. She can’t believe anyone not wanting to touch you, not wanting to make you feel good. You’re the hottest person she’s ever fucking seen. Your ass, your tits, the moans spilling from your mouth, it’s been in her filthiest dreams.

“What about now?” Abby lets her cock slip inside you, stretching out your walls as you take everything she has to offer. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled like this, your cunt greedily taking every inch has she slides in further and further. With a tight grip, you hold onto the railing as she thrust with her strong hips forward, your back arching so deep as she places her hand on your lower back, forcing the bend.

“Oh…” Abby grins at your desperate moans, “You really do know how to be a good girl and take it.” Her name falls from your lips like a stuttering prayer, as if she’s the god you’re praising at the altar. With each thrust, Abby back more of her strength into, packing a powerful punch to your cunt. Pulling at the strings, already making you see stars as you take from the angle.

“Fuck!” With no warning, Abby pulls at your hair, your body conforming to her will. She could do as she pleased and you would let her. You wonder if you even had a chance or if this is what was meant to be. Her speed grows rapidly, your stomach doing flips as she penetrates you, fucking you until you’re irrevocably spent.

“See? You’re just a whore. My whore. Got you cock drunk for me. Don’t I?” Abby thumbs with your clit, making you see stars. Lost in the effortlessness of her actions, calloused fingers playing you like her drums set. With ease, from memory she pulled out a performance, just like she did at every show, aiming to please her audience.

“Do you—” Abby draws circles on your puffy clit, your growl as you attempt to push through your words. “Shit, I’m—”

“Hm?” You hear it, the sound of your cunt being fucked blending into the busy street, her hands pulling you on her cock over and over. “Didn’t think I’d take it easy on you now, did you?”

“I just didn’t think you’d actually feel this good.” With one particular hard thrust, Abby has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body begins to shake at her ministrations.

“We’re just getting started but I wanna see that gorgeous face.” She pulls out of you as she sits on the nearest lawn chair, “Hop back on, babygirl, s’all yours to use.” You remove the rest of your clothes, the E chain the only thing adorning your body.

Messily, Abby spits on her large palm, mixing your slick coating her cock making sure she’d be nice and ready for you to slide right back on. You grip her soft, freckled shoulders as she helps guide you, her blue eyes darkening as she sees the bliss written all over your face. Sinking on her cock is a sight Abby wants to replay in her mind, the high pitched moan that releases from your body is food for her soul.

“Fuck yourself on me, babygirl. Mhm, show me how much you need it.” You lean her forehead against yours, look in her beautiful blues, feeling a strange sense of intimacy as she fucks hours brains out. Abby likes the fact you have no idea who she is but you’re riding her like no tomorrow.

When you start bouncing on her cock, Abby loses all coherent thought. Your not so subtle bounce of your tits, she loves them so much she cranes her neck to suck on your nipples, her tongue piercing adding a new sensation, unable to stop your pussy from gushing around her.

“Does your girlfriend fuck you like this? Mhm, I don’t think so. My sweet babygirl, so frustrated, and all you need is some good fucking cock, huh?”

“All I need is you.” Abby thrusts her hips into you, her heavily ring hand slips her pinky ring off, the shimmering gold is placed on your clit, your body jerking from someone so cold on your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Since you can’t feel the little ball on my tongue right now, I suppose this will have to do.”

“Is that so, baby? Need me?” Abby glances over your shoulder before looking back at you, before she continuously meets the roll of your hips with her thrusts. “Dirty fucking slut, so horny for your cunt to be fucked properly. It’s why you came out tonight, why you got off on my thigh at the bar, why you couldn’t stop looking at me, s’why your hands have been over me all fucking night.”

“Abby, shit, keep talking like that.”

“Hm, you like when I call you my dirty slut? When I tell you how needy you are for me? Bet you would have let me bend you over the bar and fucked you right there.” You’re groaning, you scream her name so loudly, Abby can’t help but grin with a sinister smirk.

“Yes, would let you do anything.” Abby hums approvingly, the cool sensation of her diamond encrusted ring doing wonders to bring you over the edge, “Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever—”

One particular hard thrust has Abby wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you up as your body nearly becomes deadweight, her head making home on your shoulder. It’s when she steps into the light, met with Abby’s darkness. The night she had perfectly curated to fully benefit her, the strategic planning of a rotten apple, split right down the middle when push came to shove.

—

Three Months Prior…

“You said you would tell her.” The frustration written all over Abby’s face, her voice only raising an octave higher. Abby has never been so disgusted with herself, stopping so low, thinking she would get chosen over the long term girlfriend.

Stupid.

“I know what I said. I’m telling you, I can’t.” Ellie pinches the bridge of her button nose, trying to concentrate as Abby makes no move to do anything else but continue to fuck Ellie’s cunt.

“Oh no?” Abby slips a third finger in her pussy as she shoves her face between her slender thighs. “You don’t wanna tell her why you won’t fuck her anymore? All the light night calls with your manager are flights to come to my penthouse and get your pussy fucked out?”

Her tongue dips into Ellie’s pussy, she flattens her pierced tongue, the cool golden ball adding stimulation to the weeping woman’s clit, her body jerking at the action. “She’s too fucking good for you.” The speed of the bigger girl’s fingers send Ellie into godspeed, flirting with another dimension as she allows Abby to play tricks on her pussy.

The reason she comes back, no one makes her cum like she does, not even you. Abby wants more but Ellie refuses to give it, not willing to leave you even if you know what she’s been doing, all the lies she’s told in order to fuck Abby, you’d never look her way again. “She can't do this though? It’s why you keep coming back, you need my fingers stuffed in your pussy.” Abby’s fingers are reaching so deep, kissing Ellie’s cervix as she grips onto her wrist, bucking her hips up into the rockstar’s fingers.

“Maybe I should give them to her instead. I’m sure she would be more grateful.” Abby spits sloppily on Ellie’s pussy, kitten licking her clit until she sucks it in her mouth, tongue rapidly flicking over her bundle of nerves. Abby tsks, “Selfish slut, cum on daddy’s tongue like you fucking mean it.”

Like the greedy whore she is, Ellie squirts into Abby’s mouth and the blonde doesn’t waste a single moment, she slurps obnoxiously on Ellie’s cunt. “Fucking whore.” Her tongue flattens as he licks from her puckered hole to her clit, every drop dispersing into mouth.

Ellie’s entire body shakes, barely registering when Ellie throws on a robe, leaving it open and she lights up a cigarette on the balcony of her bedroom. Ellie whines for Abby.

“This was the last time.” With a flip of a switch, Abby’s tone changes, her cunt with her blonde pubes making her pussy appear even more irresistible, all she wanted was to get on her knees for Abby, repay the favor but the stoic look on her face tells her she won’t be getting anywhere near her tonight.

She exhales a puff of smoke, her sun kissed skin reflecting off the moonlight, every defined line of muscle making her even more beautiful. “But why? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?”

“No but I’m not interested in being someone’s side piece. I’m the main fucking show.” Abby shrugs her shoulders matter of factly, “Show yourself out, Williams.”

—

The memory flashes before Abby’s eyes, she’s sure it’s crossing Ellie’s mind, her worst nightmare playing in front of her. Her girlfriend, screaming her mistress’s name, as she clings onto Abby like a second life line. The look of horror in her emerald eyes, she would know your body everywhere, it’s you.

“All mine, my pretty pussy baby, m’babygirl gonna cum soon? yeah? can you do that for me?” Every word spoken was salt in the wound, smearing in as Ellie stood frozen still. The text was deliberately sent tonight for her own demise. Using Ellie’s needy nature against her, but it seems someone else was quite needy, but fuck was she prettier.

Ellie is a fucking idiot, Abby thought.

Knowing how much she loved it, Abby brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the digit, then she teases your puckered hole and you’re begging to convulse. Letting yourself be held by Abby, but your hips don’t stop moving.

No.

You’re fucking yourself even harder on her.

“Mommy, please? Make me cum, fuck, need to cum all over your cock. Gonna dump her for you, please. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” With her finger only slightly slipping into your ass, you see pull on her golden waves, allowing yourself to slip into the hold of rotten intentions. Ellie has seen enough as she slams the door on her way out but you’re too fucked out to even clock it.

“Good girl. Let it go. Mommy’s got you. Mhm, give it all to me, baby.” When she’s don’t fucking you into another dimension, Abby lays back on the chair, feeling quite satisfied with her successful plot of revenge.

Even better, she has you.

You fall on top of her, still stuffed full, when she finds sucking on her nipples. Your tongue toying with the barbell, pushing and pulling as Abby takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all night.” You giggle lightly, Abby drawing random patterns on your exposed back. She doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt as she lets you suck on her tits, marking her porcelain skin. You’re already more of a giver than Ellie, she smiles at the thought.

“Don’t have to apologize. Never going to say no to a beautiful girl sucking my tits.”

She’s entirely mesmerized by you, in ways she hasn’t been before. Truthfully, she almost came from seeing you cum. Never in her life has someone brought her so close without having her pussy in their mouth. “Do you want the driver to take you home or do you want to go for round two? I’d like to fuck you on my bed, feel your dripping cunt on mine, make you forget about that pathetic girlfriend of yours.”

You forget she’s still inside you because you sit up fully and you’re moaning, again.

“I’d like that but let me give you another ride, yeah?”

Unbeknownst to you, the rotten apple lays beneath you, the same E chain hidden beneath the countless chains adorning her neck but sometimes they can taste just as divine as the sweet one. Sour or sweet? That’s for you to decide.

Bloody, intentional, reckless — Abby Anderson has brought it all.

Showing Ellie just how sweet something rotten could really be if preserved for someone else.

reblogs and extra thots are appreciated! hope you enjoyed ♡

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @mytwoseater @cherrybunny @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @lucidfairies @vxqen @liizzygrant @ivka165-blog @yourfriendlyneighboorhoodeden @lluvme9 @wifeoftish @wildcatsgs @skzhoiic c @sheadoreshannah @angelynn-nicole @dizzy-dyke @crackhead237 @fairydxll @ellieusedtampon @bottom4butches @slxtcity

sorry if you aren’t tagged, my tumblr likes to be a butt. </3

#tumblr put my stuff in the tags challenge!#abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x you #abby anderson angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellabs smut #ellabs x reader

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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago

Text

trendsetter

reach for my goals, hit it dead center

pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader

genre: an actual idol au omg, smut

summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.

w.c: 3.3k

bc i’m bigger, better

warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh

a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3

song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor

Mingi barely made it two steps past one of the various emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena, dropping his lighter on the ground when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time.

“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could grab it and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.

“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”

“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.

“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”

“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.

“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”

“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.

With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”

You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”

Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”

Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.

“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”

You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.

“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.

“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”

Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.

Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.

The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”

“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”

Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.

Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.

Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.

“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”

You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.

“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”

Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.

“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”

Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”

Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“What if someone sees, princess?”

“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”

Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”

You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.”

Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”

When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after…mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”

“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.

“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.

“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.

Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”

Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”

“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.

Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”

“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”

As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.

“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.

“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.

Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.

“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.

Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”

You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”

“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.

“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.

“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.

“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

general taglist: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @8tinytings @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3hwa @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi #mingi x reader #ateez fic #ateez x reader #kpop smut

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beloveds-embrace · 16 days ago

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I've fallen down this rabbit hole of COD fanfics and I think your writing is awesome and I really enjoy your Poly 141 x roommate!reader and it got me thinking about the first month that you live with them and how weird it probably was.

You’re like a cryptid in the beginning, awkward and determined not to take up a lot of space. The guys see you at odd times during the day or night. You see them at odd times. Like I can imagine one of them, probaby Simon catching you going through the fridge at like 2 in the morning. You stare at each other as you shuffle past with what looks to be a handful of loose lunch meat. Simon is concerned.

Also I bet they forget you live with them on occasion at least to start off with. Like some of your clothes get left in the laundry and get mixed with theirs and the guys are just like ????

I imagine they have to tell you that you can ya know put your dishes in the cupboards, leave your shoes in the entryway, or that you can simply just exist in this space because it’s your home now too.

Thank you sm!!

The first month is, unsurprisingly to everyone, definitely the hardest for you especially if you’d never had roommates before, or roommates like them. You are afraid of overstepping any hidden boundaries, stressed because of moving, college and life in general, and it’s just not a fun time for you.

With the way you are always coming and going, they’d thought you just like to eat outside with your friends, or somewhere else you’d prefer. They think up until Simon catches you not once, not twice, but several times late into the nights eating leftovers like a bird pecking at seeds.

After that last time, though, you start finding whole plates left for you in the fridge, covered and a little note declaring it for you, their resident night owl. It’s such a sweet action you might sniffle just a little. Just a little.

It’s not just lunches and dinners; Kyle is also concerned when he learns that no, you aren’t a wild party animals always out and about and that’s why they never see your shoes, but it’s because you have your own shoe rack inside your room.

In another instance, Johnny accidentally forgets about you and thinks the lovely looking parfait in the fridge is one of the guys trying out new flavours, and eats it.

He doesn’t realize it’s yours until you stumble out of your room, bleary-eyed, and make a beeline to the fridge. He’s watching from the corner of his eye, and gets confused when you just… stare.

“Something wrong, lass?”

“My parfait…”

“…Och, that was yours?”

He does get you another one as an apology, but also makes a mental note to not forget about you again.

As for the laundry; yes. Yes. Kyle and Johnny had a fun time watching the unimpressed look on Simon’s face when they found pink, striped socks with little ghosts on them and asked him if he was getting into fashion.

They are good sports about it, though! Not bothered at all, and they simply fold yours as well if it winds up in theirs. No harm done; you clean up the whole apartment when they are deployed, what’s a little folding in comparison to that?

But inevitably, a month and a half in, they do need to have that conversation. This place is meant for you, too. You are taking up space that is yours, that is meant to be yours, so no more keeping everything in your own room like you are a hermit.

By month two, your shoes have joined theirs, your chair at the kitchen table has a few stickers, and your favorite throw blanket is also their favorite because you know where the good places to buy them are.

#noona.asks #poly 141 x you #poly!141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly!141 #poly 141 #cod x you #cod x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #cod imagines

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himboskywalker · 1 month ago

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My two favorite Obikin dynamics of all time is either

A) miserable depressed ptsd wracked Clone Wars brothers in arms that have become so codependent and synchronous in the force and weird about each other it’s uncomfortable for the clones to even be around them because holy shit the generals may or may not just fuck nasty mid battle there’s a GAR wide betting pool that could fund a moon over it

B) Anakin so desperately wants to fuck that old man he’s basically hunting Obi-Wan for sport or is angrily pining like a war widow ready to quite literally risk it all he’s so horny to get dicked down

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

#obikin

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football.

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan.

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression.

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy.

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan.

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer.

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest.

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes.

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger.

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes

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s-awturn · 5 months ago

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Day Off || F1 Grid

cw: nothing but superficiality, cuteness, intimate but not obscene moments, sharing moments, mention of gossip. Just pilots resting

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: I had this written a couple of days ago, but Tumblr just "ate" the only file I had and I lost everything. I was so mad I didn't even want to write anymore, but damn, This is too good a HC to waste, so okay, let's try again (remembering to save periodically this time 🫡

LEWIS HAMILTON:

You and Lewis had created a reading list to complete throughout the year, you bet there were about a hundred books on the list, titles ranging from classic literature, biographies, poems, and contemporary literature. Books that you and Lewis wanted to read together or the books you thought the other should read.

So it was common for the two of you to spend the pilot's day off reading in bed while listening to blues or jazz on the speakers. You read together, wrote reviews of the books you read and discussed them.

He was reading Percy Jackson and the Mark of Athena and you were reading Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.

"So? What did you think?" He asked, marking the page he was on, Lewis had just started the last chapter and you had already finished reading.

"He does go through a metamorphosis and it's extremely unpleasant to imagine, but I've read more unpleasant books," you confessed, putting the book on the bedside table. "Four stars, and you?"

He snorted "Piper is so boring, damn she only knows how to think about Jason and how she doesn't like being the daughter of Aphrodite, so boring"

"God, yes! I don't like her either... Anyway, I'll wait for you to finish, and then we can choose the next one."

"Sure, honey," he kissed her temple and returned to reading just as Etta James began to sing "At Last." You settled into it, petting Roscoe as he lay beside you. This is the best way to enjoy your day off.

CARLOS SAINZ:

Carlos was at a stage where he wanted you to learn golf to play with him, after all the sport was a tradition for him and the Spaniard wanted you to be part of it, but you were terrible. You were really bad at golf, but that didn't make he want to teach you any less.

And well, you didn't like golf either, you didn't understand the sport, the scoring was weird, there were at least half a dozen different clubs and you couldn't even cheer.

But at least the clothes were cute and the cars were cool.

"Let's go, amor, I'll teach you," he said, going to pick you up in the golf cart. Lando, who was accompanying them this time, leaned his body on the golf club, waiting.

"Carlos, I'm terrible at this, you know," you grumbled, taking the bat he offered you. Carlos was a persevering man, you had to admit. He stood behind you, teaching you again how to perform the shot, instructing you to separate your legs and take a deep breath.

"I bet you five bucks she'll throw the ball in the lake"

"Shut up, Lando," you both said.

You followed his instructions and hit the ball...

...that fell into the lake.

"I knew"

"Shut up, Lando"

CHARLES LECLERC:

A day off for Charles meant you would get to visit his favorite spots, from a famous restaurant to a little coffee shop tucked away in a city alley. Sometimes he would take you to the south of France to see some chateau, other times he would just rent a chalet for you to be together in privacy, and you had lost count of how many times they had gone to Italy to see the vineyards and villas on the border with Monaco.

This time, you were preparing for a slightly longer itinerary, you had suggested visiting the Grace Kelly exhibit before heading to the cottage he had rented for the weekend.

"Got everything you need, mon cher?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist in a sweet hug.

"It depends, I know we're going to see the Grace Kelly exhibit, but I have no idea where we're going after, you say a cottage and I don't know whether to bring a bikini or coats" you mumbled, looking at her handbag.

"Take both just in case, you know spring can have unpredictable weather"

"Are you saying that so you don't give me a hint about where we're going?" You turned in his arms, facing the pilot. "That's not fair."

"You'll like it, mon ange, I promise"

"At least tell me if it's still in Monaco..." You tried to persuade him, sliding your nails lovingly along his chin, making the Monegasque shiver and let out a heavy breath.

"You're not taking me to the siren song, pretty girl." He gave you a quick kiss and a light slap on your ass before leaving. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes."

LANDO NORRIS:

Lando's downtime with you was spent playing games, you thought it was counterproductive to fuel his competitiveness when he should have been resting, but this routine of games with you made him much calmer and more relaxed when he returned to work. Ironic? Yes, but it worked.

You two played anything, Monopoly, Naval Battle, Game of Life, Detective, W.A.R, Uno, even checkers or cards. Any game was fair game.

The problem is that you got really competitive, your friends even gave up trying to play with you because the game turned into a battlefield.

"You lowlife cheater, did you really throw a +4 at your fiancée?!" You yelled at him, Lando laughed and blew you a kiss before dodging the pillow you threw at him.

"You know how things work, honey. Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm going to let you beat me."

"This will come back!" You bought the four cards he forced you to. "I really hate you."

"And you are the love of my life"

"Die, you jerk," you snapped and he laughed.

Lando could feel all the tension leaving his shoulders, playing with you always made him relax, no matter how aggressive and passionate you became in the game.

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Considering that Oscar was always traveling and there were few really usable pages in his schedule, any time the two of you could have together should be taken full advantage of, and For both of them, there's nothing better than an afternoon of movies.

You two had created a list of movies on Letterboxd and the chosen one of the day would be Interstellar.

Oscar was making popcorn while you were arranging the blankets and pillows on the couch, so what if it was the height of summer in Australia? There in the apartment, the air conditioning was hovering below fifteen degrees, keeping the room at a favorable climate for you and your boyfriend to cuddle while watching astronauts lost in space.

"I thought you were going to choose Anatomy of a Fall," he muttered, placing the food on the coffee table, popcorn with cheese, assorted snacks, chocolates and ice cream and of course, lemon soda.

"I was dubious, but you know I love any movie that has Matthew McConaughey in it," you said, getting under the covers, accompanied by Oscar, "and of course, The movie's soundtrack is perfect, I use it to study..."

"Have you watched it?"

"No, I was waiting for you, but I discovered the playlist... I'll send you the link, you'll love it"

He hummed in agreement and you pressed play on the movie, Many times you paused the film to comment on something or express your theories. It made the movie session better, Oscar didn't mind listening to you talk about it and you loved his theories.

It was, without a doubt, the best way to enjoy the break.

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

He would rather be playing, sleeping or, I don't know, watering the plants, but you always dragged him to a skin care session. You spread different creams on his face, plucked some extra hairs from his eyebrows, trimmed his beard.

As much as he denied it, Max learned to enjoy it, being taken care of by you was one of his guilty pleasures. And it all got better when you started gossiping without any trace of shame. He talked about what went on behind the scenes in F1 and you shared news about work and your condominium.

"I'm still sad that Logan was let go, he had a lot of future," you said, sliding the massage stone across his face, spreading the serum into his skin.

"He's a good kid, unfortunately he wasn't ready for Formula One yet, he came in too early and couldn't adapt well... I hope he can find his place" he grumbled, sighing at the gentle massage on his cheekbones.

"Yes... Williams was very ungrateful to him and I won't elaborate on that" you said a little bitterly and Max laughed, you always positioned yourself as a defender of the poor and oppressed.

"Yes... I won't elaborate on that either... It's better"

You both were silent until you clicked your tongue.

"Uh, I almost forgot to tell you, last week there was a horrible fight at the condominium meeting.

He opened his curious eyes "You can tell me everything, dear"

"The neighbor at 1165 caught her husband with the building manager and the building manager's husband in her bed"

"What the fuck?! Are you kidding?!"

You laughed, putting away the massage stone and sliding your fingers firmly over Max's face "you had to see it, she put together a PowerPoint with photos and screenshots of the conversations"

Max laughed out loud "damn, I wish I had seen..."

"It was a real fight, they argued and everything, it was really fun to watch"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I will definitely go to the next condo meeting"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#f1 imagine #f1 #sawturn #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 headcanons #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n

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jinwoosbabyboo · 4 months ago

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𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚄𝚜

How I headcanon the LADS Men gaming with us. All four of them just enjoy being around you. [Requested by: Anon]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

he'd be a watcher at the start ; being more of a physical sport kind of person (which is why he's so good at snowboarding)

you'd ask him to play one of your favorite games with you and he'd opt to sit with you while you play instead

gets curious overtime as he watches you progress

"your main quest is to head to the dungeon what are you doing here?" "I have to complete this side quest in order to level up my character before going to the dungeon otherwise I'll die"

"you said this can be multi-player?" he asks after a while

somehow ends up speed running all the missions surpassing you even though you'd been playing longer.

would buy his own controller or PC set up using the excuse of "not wanting to over-use your equipment”

when youre gaming for too long or he has a long day he lays on you with his face buried in your neck or your titties

wants you to sit on his lap or between his legs while you play

helps you calm down when you're about to rage

massages your hands when they get tired

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

immediately begging to have a turn or play together

incredibly skilled with his hands so handling a controller and multi-tasking on a keyboard is nothing to him

texts and calls you to come over for gaming nights or afternoons

sets up a game room for the two of you complete with multiple TVs so you each can have your own and if you're a PC player 2 full set-ups for you and him

A DIRTY DOG ... I know y'all seen him playing kitty cards that mf is about as slick as sandpaper ... that cheat combo? he's using it. that hacker mod? he's using it.

definitely whines and pouts when you beat him, but gloats and dances when he wins

would definitely try and talk you into becoming online gamers/streamers

when you play on a console he likes when you straddle him backwards and lay flat on your stomach so he can use your ass like a pillow to rest his hands on.

rages with you ... no questions asked

ends up knowing your games better than you

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

S Tier player ... but very humble

plays YOUR favorite game one time and beats it an hour later

that level you're stuck on? hand him the controller or let him take over the keys he'll have you past the level in no time

only started playing because you asked him to

you either play together or he sits with you when you're playing or he wants you to sit with him while he plays (as long as you're in the same room he's happy)

makes bets that if he wins he can use your kitchen (this is actually canon in a tender moments)

the type to play online under a pseudonym, but gain a huge following in the process

plays both PC and Console with you, but prefers console so he can sit between your legs while you two play

massages you & helps calm you when you're about to rage

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

will gladly play any game with you

S Tier player .... he's so good it seems like he's cheating when he's not

gets matching consoles and PC set ups with you

secretly plays ahead so he can help you beat levels

prefers PC over console, but will play both

"don't worry maybe you'll beat me next time" instigates every time he beats you in a game

once he finds out you enjoy gaming he's having an entire entertainment wing built for you

likes to have you sit in his lap while you play

gets you every game you want even gets you early access to buy it before the release date

eggs you on when you start gamer raging

the type to sit behind you and cage you in his arms when you ask him to beat a level for you

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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covenofagatha · 1 day ago

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The hustle

You and Agatha make a bet while playing pool - if you win, you get to try to make her orgasm without being touched

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: GP Agatha, cumming untouched, dirty talk, masturbation, daddy kink

“Remind me why we came here?” Agatha asks as she opens the door to Herb’s Grille and Bar and lets you walk in. The smell of cheap beer and wings hits your nose and you wrinkle it. It’s a dimly lit establishment with sticky floors and loud televisions showing every single sports game happening at the moment.

You turn to face your girlfriend once she steps into the restaurant. “Where else would you have wanted to spend our date night?”

Every Saturday, you and her alternate between picking a place to go out. After two years of your relationship, it’s a way to keep things spiced up. Sometimes you’ll meet her in a hotel lobby and pretend to be strangers, other times you’ll go pottery painting. Your absolute favorite date was one she planned where she took you to a restaurant overlooking the ocean to watch the sunset, and then went skinny-dipping in the water once the beach cleared out.

You can still remember the way her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, the way she held you in her arms, her cock inside you, and just let the waves rock you back and forth slowly until you both came.

So it’s safe to say that picking a bar like this is very out of the norm for date night.

Agatha snorts. “If you waited until the last minute to plan something and this is the best you could come up with, we could’ve just had a movie night at home.”

“Oh, baby,” you say, laughing at the little faith she has in you. “This—” you gesture at the rowdy football fans throwing their arms up at the television, the waitresses in small shorts carrying plates of fries and onion rings, the drunk men throwing darts in the corner, “—was not last minute planned. I’ve been wanting to come here for a while.”

“Why on earth would you want to come here?” she asks, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow at you.

You shrug. “Why don’t we go to the bar and get a drink?” you suggest, completely ignoring her question with a coy smile. Her eyes narrow suspiciously, but she follows you as you begin to wade through the rows of packed tables. And then you stop and gasp, your hand flying to the side to hit Agatha’s arm. You point at the empty pool table in the back of the restaurant. “Do you want to play?”

“Honey, have you ever played pool before?” Agatha asks, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Sticking out your bottom lip in an overexaggerated pout, you beg with your eyes. “Will you teach me?”

She can’t say no to you, so she sighs. “Why don’t you get us our drinks and I’ll go rack up and get the cues.”

You beam and press a quick kiss to her cheek before rushing to the bar and ordering a rum and coke for Agatha, and a Dirty Shirley for you, before bringing them over to where your girlfriend is placing the pool balls in the triangle. You pick up one of the sticks that she picked out and stroke a hand up and down the smooth wood.

“Baby,” Agatha says through gritted teeth and you look over at her innocently. Her hands have gripped onto the edge of the table and her knuckles are white. “Don’t give me that look, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Trying to fight the smirk growing on your face and failing, you give up on the pretense before tilting your head to the table. “So do I go first?”

Agatha nods and you step up before bending over the table, stick in hand. You line up the tip with the cue ball and close an eye before Agatha interrupts you.

“Honey, hang on. You need to fix your stance,” she says and you stand back up and look at her.

“What?” you ask. “It feels fine to me.”

Your girlfriend tsks before stepping behind you and putting her hands on your waist. “Bend over,” she murmurs in your ear and goosebumps line the back of your neck. “Hold the cue how you just did.”

Swallowing roughly, you resume your position and gasp slightly when she presses against you and puts her hands on top of yours to adjust your technique. Your stomach starts to grow warm.

It seems like you’re not the only one affected though — you can feel Agatha’s cock half-hard in her pants. Always one to tease, you push back slightly and sway your hips and her grip tightens on yours as she sharply inhales.

“Like that?” you simper, immensely enjoying the way Agatha’s body has stiffened.

“Take the shot,” she orders gruffly and you chuckle before swinging your arms back and then forward, the 8-ball hitting the triangle and sending the balls scattering with a thunk.

A striped red one goes into the pocket and you line up to take another shot, but completely whiff. You see Agatha biting back a smile.

She sinks four balls during her turn and you miss completely. Two more for Agatha, and you do a little victory dance when you finally get one.

“I like it better when you go inside my hole,” you say right as she’s lining up to take her shot and she misses, the cue ball hitting the edge of the table. When she stands back up and turns to you, her face is slightly red and the knowledge that your dirty, juvenile joke has that much effect on her settles straight in your cunt.

But any triumph you had is gone when you miss again, and then she perfectly hits her last ball and the 8-ball in, almost completely sweeping.

“Can we play again?” you ask and Agatha gives you a strange look. Usually when you lose that badly in any other game, you immediately want to do something else. You’re a bit of a sore loser and Agatha loves to tease you for it. “Please? Let’s make a bet.”

She studies your face to see what you’re doing. “Okay,” she agrees slowly, still unsure of your ulterior motives. “If I win, we never go to another bar on date night.”

You hold out your hand. “Deal. And if I win, you have to go along with whatever I say tonight.”

Her lips part ever the slightest and her eyes darken. “Oh, okay, honey. If you win, you’re in charge.” It’s clear from her sarcastic tone that she doesn’t expect that to happen at all, but she shakes your hand anyway and you can’t help the thrill that runs through you.

Agatha re-racks the balls and motions for you to break them again. You lean over the table and hit the 8-ball hard. A solid ball goes into the pocket and you sink the next three shots you make.

When you finally miss, you look at Agatha, whose jaw has dropped wide open. You wink and she flushes before taking a shot.

She misses.

You cluck your tongue and purposely brush past her front on your way to get to the cue ball harder than you have to just to rub your ass against her cock before hitting the rest of the solid balls into the pockets. And then you get the 8-ball as well.

“How did you—” Agatha starts, completely flustered, trying to wrap her head around how you just did that.

Grinning, you tell her, “I used to play pool all the time in college.”

Realization dawns on her and she chuckles humorlessly while shaking her head. “So you hustled me.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Eh, semantics. The point is, we made a bet. And I just won.”

“That you did, honey. What do you have in store for me tonight?” she asks, not seeming too upset about the loss. She knows that this is really her win as much as it is yours.

Your eyes gleam. “I want to make you cum,” you say, and before she can retort that you always do, you add on: “without you being touched.”

Agatha swallows and you can see the wheels in her head spinning as her breathing starts to quicken. “You little minx,” she growls and you can see her cock, now a little more than half-hard, bulging in her pants. You giggle gleefully.

It’s something that’s been on your mind for a while now. There was one night you had been teasing her while straddling her lap and she had been a squirming mess beneath you, and when you finally got your mouth around her, it took her about forty-five seconds before she came all over your face.

She had been so embarrassed, but you had found it so fucking hot, knowing that you could make her that worked up that she couldn’t even last a minute. And then you started wondering if you could get her so worked up that she could cum without anything.

The thought had driven you to orgasm quite a few times since that night. You weren’t sure if she would try it just if you asked, so you had to get a little creative.

And she had taken the bait, every step of the way. It wasn’t often you got to pull one over on your girlfriend like this, and you’re absolutely going to revel in it.

“Should we go home, daddy?” you ask, voice as sweet and pure as you can make it, and Agatha’s look is vicious. You know she’s going to make you pay for this little stunt, probably with a spanking and maybe orgasm denial, but it’s going to be so worth it.

Agatha takes a deep breath before downing the rest of her drink in one gulp and then grabs onto your bicep to lead you out of the bar.

Your hand creeps into her lap the moment she puts her car into reverse to back out of the parking spot and she hisses before slamming on the brakes.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you say in awe. Her cock is completely straining against her jeans and you can feel the heat radiating through them. You flatten your palm and begin to rub and her fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “Someone’s more excited than they’re letting on,” you remark and enjoy the way the vein in her forehead throbs.

“It’s going to be your fault if I crash and kill us both,” she says through clenched teeth. “Thought the whole point was you weren’t going to touch me.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Good point.” You remove your hand and she lets out a sigh of relief so she can focus on driving — as much as she can, with how turned on she is — and you angle your right foot up on the seat so your knee rests on the car door and your skirt rides up. You drag your fingertips against your exposed thigh, heat following in its wake, and you can feel how wet you’ve become.

Agatha doesn’t notice at first when you slip a hand between your open legs to tease yourself over your underwear, but when she does happen to glance over, she lets out a small whimper.

“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to sound rough, but failing. It sounds like she’s in pain, and based on how hard she is, you think she might be.

You press on your clit and gasp. “I said I wasn’t going to touch you. I never said anything about touching myself.”

Her tongue traces its way across her mouth and she tries to focus on the road, but when you move your panties to the side and stroke through your folds, she can’t help but sneak little peeks down at your pussy.

“I can fucking hear you,” she breathes like she can’t even believe it, like the thought is driving her absolutely wild.

She turns down the radio and the squelching sounds of your wetness fills the car. You’re surprised she hasn’t swerved or hit something yet, with how often she looks over.

And then you push a finger inside yourself and you gasp, hips bucking, and she whimpers. You almost want to say fuck it and just bend over and suck her off, but you hold fast to your plan.

“Daddy, fuck,” you whine pathetically and the muscle in her cheek twitches. Her cock is so hard you can see the outline of her vein through her pants. She starts to slowly grind up so her cock rubs against the denim fabric and you wonder if she’s getting any satisfaction from it.

You slide another finger into your cunt easily, curling them knuckle-deep, and your head falls back against the headrest as your back arches.

“Baby, god, you are so hot,” Agatha gasps pathetically. You’re so fucking addicted to her desperation, the high it gives you is almost orgasmic, and you start to fuck yourself roughly. Your walls squeeze around your own fingers and you wish that her cock was inside you more than anything.

Your girlfriend is thinking the same thing, if the small noises spilling out of her mouth is any indication. The car speeds up erratically and it’s only five more minutes before she pulls into the driveway. The tension has been building in your stomach and you’re almost sad you didn’t get to make yourself cum.

There’s no telling how crazy that would’ve made Agatha.

“In the house, now,” she barks and you have to bite back a laugh. You’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge tonight, and here she is, ordering you around so you can get her off.

You let it slide because you’re just as eager for this as she is.

She speed-walks to the front door to unlock it and then you take the lead and drag her upstairs to your bedroom by the hand. She groans when she feels how wet your fingers are.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” you say, sparks of heat lighting up all throughout your body as she listens immediately.

When Agatha shoves her jeans and underwear down, her cock springs out and both of you gasp; her, from the semblance of relief she gets, and you, from how it looks.

Her cock looks like it’s straining against itself: it’s swollen and the veins are taunt, redder than it's ever been, and leaking a copious amount. She humps the air involuntarily and gutturally groans. The top of her breasts all the way up to her cheeks is stained pink and her chest heaves, the look in her eyes that of a feral woman.

“Fuck — you’re so…” You don’t even have the words to describe how turned on she is. You haven’t even teased her that much either. Not enough to warrant this state, anyway.

Agatha shakily lowers herself onto the bed and leans back against the pillows so she can look at you, her cock pointing straight up to the ceiling. “You get daddy so worked up, baby,” she rasps and you clench around nothing at the desire in her voice. There is no doubt in your mind that you’ll be able to get her to cum untouched. The only question is how long it will take.

You toy with the hem of your shirt, sensually dragging it up your stomach and then back down until Agatha’s teeth are clenched so tightly you think she might snap.

“Take it off,” she grits, an urgency in her voice that you haven’t heard before. You smirk and peel it off and Agatha’s hips jump when she takes in your purple bra that pushes your breasts together. “Fuck,” she says under her breath and another dollop of liquid drips down her cock from the tip.

Sliding off your skirt, your head spins when she makes a muffled groan that sounds like she’s been injured. You have never felt hotter in your life than when you’re with Agatha. And then you take off your underwear and hold them up to the light so she can see how drenched they are.

The muscles in her stomach flex and her fingers dig into the duvet. “Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, sounding distant.

Now fully naked, you climb on the bed and lie opposite from her, propping yourself up with one hand and spreading your legs so that she can see your glistening center. Agatha makes another sound and you watch her cock bob up and down on its own.

You suck two fingers into your mouth, the same fingers that were inside you on the car ride, and give her the same look you do as when her cock is in your mouth.

Her lips part and her tongue darts out, her breathing becoming shallower. You pull your fingers out of your mouth with a wet pop and trail them down your face and neck, across your collarbone, and down to pinch your nipples.

Agatha recognizes it as the same path she usually takes with her tongue when she’s working her way down your body and her hips start to grind slowly. Her cock leaks even more as you watch her throb and it makes even more heat blast through you.

“Fuck, daddy, you make me feel so good,” you say and her breath catches in her throat. Your hand skims across your stomach and then teases your folds and you moan, which makes Agatha moan, too. “I love it when you go down on me and you let me ride your face. I love it when you fill me with your cock—” You slide two fingers inside and cut yourself off with a gasp.

Your girlfriend’s hands are twitching like she can’t decide whether she wants to touch you or her cock, which has somehow gotten even harder. She is steadily rolling her hips now, desperate for any stimulation.

“Honey — honey, please,” she begs, her voice thick and deep and it does almost as much to you as curling your fingers and pressing against your g-spot does. You’re not going to last long either. “Daddy needs you, please.”

You almost give in. It would be so easy to take her cock down your throat or to straddle her and feel her in your pussy — either way, you think she would cum immediately.

But she looks so pretty like this, cheeks flushed and sweaty, furiously grinding against absolutely nothing, her cock pulsing and dripping. “Sorry, daddy,” you say with a wink and you watch her head drop back against the headboard. “I love seeing you like this. So desperate for me, about to cum without being touched at all, just for me.”

Agatha swears, her body stiffening and you think she’s going to cum right now, but to her credit, she relaxes a little and doesn’t. You’re almost impressed. “Daddy is going to punish you for this, you know,” she says with very little conviction. “Gonna tie you up and leave a vibrator in you and we’ll see how many times you cum before you physically can’t take anymore.”

Your breath hitches and your palm bumps against your clit roughly. The tension from the car is building back in your lower stomach, pleasure coursing through your veins. It’s not as good as when Agatha touches you, but it’s a close second.

“Fuck, fuck,” Agatha babbles like she can’t take it anymore. “I need you so bad, honey. I’m fucking — I’m fucking aching for you.” You almost make a joke about how you can tell, but think better of it. “You drive me crazy, please, I need you, need to feel your hot pussy wrapped around my cock, fuck—“

Her knees lock and her feet flex and her cock pulses and your fingers still inside you to watch in awe. Agatha’s breathing gets tighter before she sucks in deeply — her hips lurch up and her legs start to spread out and up — she lets out a loud, high-pitched keen and her cock erupts, cum spurting up in the air and landing on her stomach.

Agatha’s hands scramble for purchase on the duvet as she frantically humps the air and keeps gasping, her cock pumping out a few more cascades of cum all over her.

You didn’t think that would be so hot and you press the palm of your hand against your clit and you spasm, an orgasm tearing through your own body. You ride it out, beginning to move your fingers again to prolong the pleasure.

She lays there limply, just watching with glazed eyes and an open mouth, her cock twitching every so often as it softens.

When you finally come down, you can’t help but laugh and Agatha looks at you like you’re crazy. She still hasn’t moved.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you exclaim and Agatha snorts before finally rubbing her face with a hand.

“I think you just killed me, sweetheart,” she says matter-of-factly and you smirk despite yourself.

She looks absolutely wiped. “So you don’t want to do it again?” you ask and the look she gives you is lethal. But you see a hint of heat in her eyes, and you know that this won’t be the last time you get to make her cum like that.

Agatha goes to move but looks down at the mess on her stomach. “Why don’t you come clean this up for me, honey?” she suggests and another blast of heat runs through you.

You get on your knees and crawl the foot or so to her before swiping your fingers through the puddle of cum and enveloping them in your mouth and moaning at her taste. She watches you with dark eyes as you then bend down and run your tongue over her belly, her muscles tensing and her cock stirring.

“Good girl,” she murmurs and the praise goes straight to your still-wet cunt. She tugs on your hair and pulls you up to kiss you, stroking her tongue inside your mouth to taste herself.

When you finally pull back to breathe, you smile despite yourself at how perfect and completely ruined she looks right now. “Not a bad date night, hm?” you ask, giggling and raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Agatha rolls her eyes playfully. “Not quite what I had in mind, but I do like where it ended up.”

You flop onto the bed next to her and she puts an arm around you so you can tuck yourself into her side. “Good luck topping that next week,” you challenge, eyes flicking up to meet hers. She smirks and reaches over to pinch your nipple.

“I’m sure I’ll find a way.”

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#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfic

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birdiebirdjay · 4 months ago

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percy weasley: fusses over ginny in CoS, notices that she'd been acting odd, runs to meet Ron (and Harry kind of) in the water after he was kidnapped for the trial in GoF

also percy weasley: is constantly belittled by everyone in his family for his passions and following his dreams, called pompous in narration, has a fight with his father who essentially calls him an idiot and a shame to the family when he had just gotten the job he'd been striving for for literal years (HE WAS ONLY 18 AT THE TIME!!!) and leaves afterwards

fandom: pERCY WEASLEY HATED HIS FAMILY AND NEVER CARED ABOUT THEM!!!!!!

percy weasley: is canonically nice to younger students who ask him questions, gets bloodied up at the world cup with his older brothers (it is implied they got injured while trying to find the twins and ginny/ keep them safe) has a secret girlfriend (wHO ACTUALLY TREATS HIM REALLY WELL AND LISTENS TO HIM UNLIKE MOST OF HIS FAMILY MEMBERS), meets up with said girlfriend to snog (and probably more kdsjfskj) while on patrol, writes letters to her all summer, makes bets with her about quidditch with money he doesn't have and screams and jumps up and down about winning, will rant to her about stuff, makes jokes with her, genuinely very shaken up when she's attacked, keeps a photo of her bc he loves her that much

also percy: is a prefect/actually does his job as prefect

fandom: PERCY IS A NERDY PRUDE WHO IS ASOCIAL, HATES SPORTS, AND DOES NOTHING BUT WORK

me, rereading the books: w-what

(disclaimer i was like this my first few times reading so uh yeah)

(also i dont have anything against the other weasleys, they're some of my favorite characters i'm just very emotional over percy rn, and i'm not saying percy was perfect [ooh boy he definitely had his faults, the letter in OotP was insane] i'm just saying that the story is pretty goddamn sad from his pov)

#percy weasley #harry potter fandom #harry potter #the feels #aj rambles

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kithtaehyung · 6 months ago

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bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments.

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes.

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding.

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over.

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch.

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen.

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology.

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too.

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience.

However.

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction.

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar.

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other.

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home.

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps.

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted.

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!”

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look.

“Suit yourself!”

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued.

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle.

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?”

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already.

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave.

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier.

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable.

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :(

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car.

And all you can do is stare at your screen.

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :)

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile.

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!!

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre.

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there!

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench.

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard.

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar.

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same.

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?”

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?”

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone.

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds,

“Turns out Jimin was right.”

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.”

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!”

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.”

—

fin. :)

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

#well hello LMAO #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #three tangerines #3tan7172 #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fluff #*latest #ryenwrites #3tanextras #yoongi angst

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