#also yes hi smiling friends is fun
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I'm not dead🫵😎
#theres a whole page of these#my friend and i had a wild time redrawing these guys instead of working#also yes hi smiling friends is fun#might be a a new fixation 🤔#smiling friends
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hm. i think i will ignore the last 8 episodes of arc v
#why does the writing. keep getting worse??#like i've actually been so invested in this but this is making me so angry???#why would i sit through a 5 episode long duel to end all duels just for. what even#if it were me.#i would have let them defeat zarc. uncorrupt yuya. have him live witj zarc and all the other yu boys SENTIENT personalities in his head#(treats them like a system. the others can front sometimes even)#AND WHILE THE 4 DIMENSIONS WERE STILL MERGING have the declan/yuya dueltaining duel of the century in order to show all 4 worlds rhat duels#are still for fun. and during the duel the other consciousnesses in yuya also get to take part and have fun#UNTIL FINALLY!! zarc remembers the duelist he was before. and he smiles. together he and the yu boys all deal the final blow to declan.#who just smiles acceptingly. the crowds from all 4 dimensions cheer about how fun the duel was. zarc chills out. yuya grounds himself from#the applause to look for zuzu and finds her holding riley who had passed out. they wake up and ask yuya if it's over. he says yes & they hug#we get a brief scene with all of the side characters from different dimensions as they reunite with family and friends. xyz is last tho#shay looks around at the people who have reunited with their families and starts to tear up because his is lost Forever.#saya kite and allen are all like 'that's not true.. we're here' shay's sobbing but he's like 'i'm not...' kite and allen laugh. saya smiles#suddenly the rest of the lancers come through and reach out to shay going 'hey now! our job's not done. we have a new mission'#and they begin traveling across dimensions together to help the rebuilding effort and to boost people's morale through dueltaining#the final scene is shay looking at zuzu (who is also lulu & celina & rin) and she smiles and hugs him so tightly bc they're still siblings#yuto and yuya smile super happily from afar until sora calls put 'hey!! slowpoke! are you coming or not??' yuya dashes off into a portal#with everyone else and yells 'wait for me!!' he nearly falls on his face and everyone laughs. zuzu reaches out her hand and he takes it#they all go into the portal and THE END#sorry that got long and rambly... DISREGARD#just know i hate the ending so much so far that i had to turn it off#sorry i used tye dub names it saves a couple letters in my 140 character tag limit....#chatter#lys watches arc v
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my crush asked me if I was a cheerleader when I was in high school and I had to admit that I didn’t even go to high school <3 just normal girl things
#it was because I mentioned pom poms and bringing in my old toy ones to cheer on my friend#we were sitting on the same table#I asked if I could move his backpack so that I could sit down because I was tired and had cramps and he so sweetly said ‘yes of course!’#and moved it himself which is the bare minimum of decency but like he just was so soft spoken oh jeez#I told him that I wasn’t homeschooled because of any weird religious reasons#and he jokingly said ‘tell us about the flat earth Natalie’#just some very normal things that gave me butterflies today!!#he also was judgmental of dudes that date way younger women so wonk wonk I don’t have a chance#and he imitated a raccoon and ate candy like Warren Beatty ate that carrot in bugsy#just to make me laugh <3#and I took off my pants again today and he didn’t even flinch because he’s already seen me naked oh silly Natalie#also I was modeling for my friend and he took some test shots while I was talking incessantly about Clint Eastwood go figure#and he was concerned about my lack of sleep! and he said that he hated that some dudes had made me uncomfortable!#and he HARSHLY judged the middle aged man I was trying to have a thing with when I was 19#and uh uh uhhhh#what else#you know I really should just keep a diary like a normal person#whatever anyway it was a nice day even without him because I had fun with my friends even though I was dog tired#also the boy who asked me out before is messaging me and he BEAMED when he saw me today but idk that’s also just how he smiles#so maybe it means nothing#personal
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Mutual Help | 59
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, explicit content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 18.5k+
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢
Sometimes you decide on things by feelings or whatever seems right at that moment.
You might've suggested something that has bit you in the ass right back. It didn't feel as satisfactory as it perhaps should have when you hinted on meeting new people. Although, it's a great opportunity for both of you to move on, even though just the thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.
Not even the alcohol on it tastes as bitter.
Regardless of what kind of opportunity it turned out to be, you had to do it. You're slowly losing it and being in Jungkook's presence alone is not helping.
A jealous kind of person is not what you would describe yourself. When the word jealous comes to one's mind, they think of someone being possessive jealous in the worst kind of way. You might've been possessive about people around you, but in a healthy way.
Sure, the thing with Ester is not the greatest example of it, but that was something different.
There's something building up, something you haven't experienced with Jungkook before. You were jealous in the friendliest possible way. You don't want to dwell on it more than necessary, but with Ester, you were scared of her becoming Jungkook's close friend. It sounds terrible this way, perhaps a little toxic too – it's hard to describe and put it into the right words so one could understand it clearly. There are parts where even you don't understand it.
You're confident about what you and he have. From the moment you met to the point where your friendship is at. Even that is a bit debatable, but you don't want to go there. Not right now. And possibly not in the near future. There are certain things you don't want to think about.
Ones you're scared of.
Still. Seeing Jungkook having another friend who he genuinely gets along with, in a meaningful way caused you to act on the void you felt.
But jealousy is a human emotion nevertheless. And you totally hate it at the moment.
Because there's no Ester or any possible special friendships to be made. This is different.
Why the fuck you hate staring at Jungkook and Nara. That's what she's named and introduced herself as when she happily sat behind Jungkook, holding his waist as he drove them through the small waves on a jet ski.
Clearly, sharing a meaningful connection called friendship is not on top of her list. She's smiling the entire time they talk about whatever, even though it's the most casual topic. She's not the typical giggling type that smiles to whatever that's being said just to flirt. She seems genuinely interested in Jungkook. Maybe a little bit too much.
Okay, definitely.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You tap your fingers on the table, sun setting down as you watch Jungkook and Nara taking a fucking walk along the beach. You hate that after three drinks, you still have your stomach crumbled and twisted around.
There's no reason for you to be mad at Jungkook. You told him to meet people. You freaking hinted about him trying to get it on with other people. Okay, maybe you're irritated he took it seriously and clearly goes for it a little too soon. You also told him you'll be fine here while they go on a walk alone.
“So it's just you two here?” Gabriel asks next to you, catching your attention for the hundredth time in the past three hours. Yes, that's how long you've been spending your time with them.
They're fun and friendly. Nothing bad about them. Clearly young people who want to have fun. They're relaxed, fun and outgoing.
So why the hell would you rather have Min Yoongi here than having to witness all of this?
Mentally shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts, you turn to Gabriel and tear your eyes off those two. You give him a stare that tells him enough about your suspicion by that sudden question.
“Relax, I'm just asking.”
“And I should believe you because?” you question him. You might've appeared slightly cold toward him. You're not sure if his friendliness wants to aim somewhere else and to something more, or he's just that outgoing.
Clearly, he doesn't want to back away because he's been very persistent. You give him that.
There's a slight spark between the tug and pull game. But it's not the one you're looking for.
“Because I'm telling the truth.”
There's chatter and laughter going from the other people you've been introduced to. You don't remember all of their names though. You hope you won't have to see them after this. God, that sounded so harsh. They're nice, you swear! But!
They don't give you any attention which makes your conversation slightly more comfortable.
“You're still a stranger. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“So just believe me–”
“That literally goes against–”
He laughs. He's handsome. Has a sharp jawline and a cute smile. “You're a piece of work.”
“I know. I'm amazing.”
He can't seem to drop his eyes off you. You've experienced those before. Which is why you're not sure if he's honest about that or if it's the trick of flirting with you. It seems like men always have some kind of ulterior motive behind their behavior.
You don't hate men. Even if it looks like it. You just don't trust them.
Unless they are Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.
Surprisingly, at least Gabriel doesn't annoy you in the Min Yoongi type of way. He's nice, not pushy and annoying which you appreciate.
You glance at him fully, both of you chuckling at your ridiculous conversation.
There's a deeper meaning behind his question. For the first time, he showed more of his prying persona. You can't blame him. It was bound for people to question it. You've grown used to it.
“Yes, it's just me and Jungkook.”
He nods, already knowing this but traces his glass. He had one beer an hour ago and after that one, he switched to lemonades. Somehow, you find that a little attractive.
“Our friends were supposed to go with us, but it didn't work for them unfortunately.”
He already knows you're staying at one of the beach houses, which to their expressions, they were a bit surprised to hear that. It's a more expensive side of the beach and while they're staying nearby, it might sound suggestive that you two alone are where families and lovers mostly stay.
“Didn't work how? What if it's their way to get you together alone?”
His question has a light tone full of teasing and suggestion, knowing exactly where this is going. He's trying to figure out your relationship with Jungkook, probably not believing two best friends that are on a vacation are only that. Friends. Well, that's quite debatable in all ways but you're not exactly going to share a full depth of anything related to your actual relationship to Jungkook.
Gabriel doesn't give you any vibes of being a snitch, but he's still a stranger. A handsome one but not even his pretty face could make you spill the tea. Anyway, he's definitely not asking because he's skeptical but mostly asking for himself.
You would've had to be blind and dumb not to notice his undeniable attention and interest aimed toward you. It's flattering and a compliment, really. More than anything else.
“Well, one of them ended up in a hospital with broken toes, so I would like to think he didn't do it on purpose.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly,” you deadpan, sipping more of your drink.
He grins. He has a cocky twist to his smile. There's no denying he's a catch wherever he travels.
“Even though, you never know with him.” you say, watching Gabriel's confused look before you shrug and chuckle under your breath.
Taehyung loves himself too much to hurt himself. No matter how much he would love you and Jungkook messing around more.
Speaking of him, you glance back at the couple walking down the beach. There's nothing special or weird about it. They're just walking beside each other, there's even some distance between them now. Is Jungkook listening to your previous words and just trying to – you don't even know how to name it.
Is he trying to get to know someone else in hopes of getting more?
Is he planning to hook up with anyone from this group?
Because he totally could and there would be nothing you would do about it. But why should you in the first place? It should not bother you. You should be in the front row hyping him up to do it. You should smack his shoulder and tell him to go for it, like all the guys do.
So why can't you?
You believe it's because you've never experienced anything similar to what you have with Jungkook. Obviously, he's more than the sex God you've portrayed him as in your head. He's definitely more than that. But speaking just about that alone, the thought of him going for someone else and showing that side of him to some stranger he just met, honestly bothers you. It's too soon. And you know if you weren't too thoughtful, you wouldn't be in this position because you would've kept hooking up.
You wouldn't have to worry about him suddenly having sex with someone else. He would never do that when he's intimate with you.
Fuck. Why are you even thinking of all of this?
You did what was best for you and him. At the end of the day, it's just a matter of time before something like this happens. And you know it will and you're going to be okay with it. You will move on.
But perhaps you rushed into it. You've panicked and indirectly told him to just have fun. Without you. In that exact sense you're thinking of.
He's smart. Of course he caught onto the meaning right away and something tells you he's doing exactly that. You can't even be mad at him because you told him. You were the one who encouraged and pushed him to move on.
“I didn't mean to pry,” Gabriel speaks up, reminding you of his presence and your cheeks heat up even more under the sun that's barely up there.
You try to cover up your staring by looking at the sea before finally looking at him. He couldn't see the exact direction of your vision, but he could've guessed because they're right there.
“I just find it interesting.”
“Interesting?” You frown in confusion.
“You two.”
“What's so interesting about two best friends? Because one is a female and the other male?”
His brows shoot up, catching up onto your slightly offended tone. “I didn't mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it then?”
He hesitates, but your lifted brow that demands a response causes him to lick his lips as he sighs. “You've been checking him a few times now.”
You grit your teeth together. Not because you're offended that he indeed noticed, but you're embarrassed that he did.
“I've been checking on my best friend.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, trying to play it off as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't really trying to suggest something else. I just noticed that your friendship seems… special.”
“And it is.”
He nods, wrapping his hand around the drink as he picks up on the small droplets. “Nara won't bite his head off. She's cool.”
“I wasn't suggesting anything else.” You throw his words back at him. He notices, the left corner of his lips twisting in a smirk but he doesn't say anything about it.
“Would your friend bite my head off though?”
You arch your brow at him, “And why would he do that?”
“I don't know, maybe for trying to get to know you?”
“You're getting to know me.” you point out, knowing what he's hinting at but you're playing it off. An amusement dances in your eyes and he sees it, his smirk only getting bigger but the determination of getting straight with you is even bigger.
“I am.” he hums.
“Well, I can't promise anything. Jungkook is protective.”
“Surely he would understand I don't have any vile intentions. I mean, you're single, right?”
You gulp, stopping for a moment. You could possibly make some kind of situation. You're single but you weren't exactly free and down to meeting someone else. For multiple reasons. You could tell him you just got out of… relationship that had nothing to do with dating. Simply said, you could tell him you had a fuck buddy and now you're just focusing on yourself.
But considering your previous topic, he could easily catch on and for some reason, you don't want to risk it. You don't want any strangers knowing about you and Jungkook. It seems awfully personal and intimate.
“I am.” you mutter.
“So? He can't chase all men away from you.”
And he probably won't.
“I don't know… he did punch a guy for me.”
“What?” he deadpans.
You chuckle, “He was my ex. Said some nasty stuff. Kook didn't like it.”
“So he… punched him?”
“Mhm,” You take another sip. “He did deserve it though.”
“I would never say nasty stuff about you. Or any woman.”
What are you supposed to do with that information?
“Never say never.” you shrug.
“No, I mean it. I wasn't raised like that.”
“I don't think he was either. But sometimes we don't know ourselves. And sometimes we can surprise ourselves too.”
“I get that, but if your friend had to punch him for it, he obviously wasn't good.”
You look at your drink that's slowly disappearing. You should slow down. “He's not a bad guy.”
“Doesn't sound like it.”
You roll your eyes, “You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”
“You seem to be just the same way.” he points out.
“You've known me for a few hours, Gabriel. I could be a total bitch or a completely different person than you've made up in your head.”
“And that's why I would like to know you more.”
You stare at him.
Having to be in similar situations a few times, this time feels slightly different. Even though he's determined, he's not annoyingly pushy. He's good looking and has something in him that makes you flattered that he's not backing down. Showing a clear interest in you is not something you would gag at or roll your eyes like you usually would have.
“So if I wanted to invite you for dinner, lunch… whatever you want it to be, would you go?”
“Are you asking me on a date, stranger?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm asking to hang with you and get to know you.”
“Umm, isn't that the definition of a date?”
“Could be,” he shrugs, “But I'm from Italy and you live on the opposite side of the world.”
“Exactly.” you point out.
“Oh come on, just say no if you don't want to.”
“Are you looking for a hook-up, Gabriel?” you question him, not wanting to beat around the bush. Somehow, you know he's honest but you have a hard time believing he's just interested in getting to know you.
Why?
Like he said. You live in different countries and both of you don't look like the type to have a long-distance relationship.
He starts coughing, taken back by your sudden straight-forwardness before he laughs, finding some amusement in it. “If you want to.”
“Is that why you want to get to know me?”
“No.”
You look at him skeptically, “I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”
“Then I'm disappointed by the man you've encountered.”
“Hey, I have amazing men around me.”
Two of them probably broke more hearts than any of these people in this group, but they're amazing men regardless of it. It's the fact they never did it intentionally. And Jungkook is the definition of a perfect guy. Perfect in terms of loving and thoughtful person who would give everything to his loved ones.
“Never said you don't. You love your friends very much, don't you?”
That goes without a question. He sees the look on your face and it causes him to smile. For some reason, he seems smitten by you. Of course he does, look at you. You're amazing.
“You could say they're my second family.”
Perhaps if they were actually here, things would've been a lot different. That goes without debate.
Taking in the silence that follows, you can't help but glance in the direction where Jungkook and Gabriel's friend are walking down the beach. However, they no longer are and instead you find him taking pictures of her. She makes poses, showing off her toned and tanned body. And then she walks up to him, clinging to his side as he shows her the results. She seems to be impressed, as far as you know, it's hard to see it clearly from this distance.
And it's for the better, honestly.
“Listen, it doesn't have to mean anything more. Just us hanging out over a good dinner… or a lunch.”
Gluing your eyes back to Gabriel, which seems to be the safer choice, your eyes run over his features as you take a breath – realizing your stiffened posture before you relax.
“I don't have any sick intentions.”
“You know… you constantly making sure I know that kinda makes it harder to believe you.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his drink. Your teasing brings some peacefulness into this conversation again. “Just let me know your decision. Take your time.”
You give him a smirk, knowing you're kind of running out of time. Both of you know it and that's why you both grin at each other. Before any of you can say something, the approaching chatter interrupts you. Jungkook and Nara join you, she says something which makes Jungkook smile and that's when he looks up. Your eyes meet and you straighten yourself, ignoring the way your heart squeezes.
“What's up,” Gabriel says next to you, looking at Nara who seems to joyfully sit down and take a few sips of her drink.
“Got some nice shots. Jungkook here is pure talent. I'ma show you later.” she says, smiling at Jungkook at the compliments she's giving him.
The corner of his lips turn slowly up before he glances back at you. Looking away, you poke the back of your front teeth with your tongue.
“What's your plans for tomorrow? We were thinking of visiting the water park here. It's brand new and apparently very fun. You wanna join us?” Nara asks, reaching for a bowl of fruit that Gabriel has ordered. “Anyone?” she points at the bowl.
Everyone shakes their heads before her previous question still sits in the air. She glances between you and Jungkook, awaiting your answer.
Once again, you look at each other without saying anything.
“They probably have different plans, Nara.” Gabriel notes, shrugging.
Not wanting to let them know about the lingering tension that somehow remains between you two, you take matters into your hands and give Gabriel a smile. “We don't yet, not definite but we'll think of something.”
They seem to be settled with that before the conversation moves to something else. Somehow it seems unfinished and by the time you and Jungkook are alone, walking back to your beach house, the feeling intensifies.
“So what about tomorrow?”
Jungkook is the first one to speak up once you get inside, a few minutes spent in silence after both of you are finished with your shower. You cut strawberries for yourself you got at the market earlier this morning.
“I don't know. We don't have any clear plans, do we?” you hum.
“We could look around the Island. See what's up there and decide then.”
“Sounds good.”
Jungkook stands behind you, in a safe distance but you can feel his eyes burning your back. However, he doesn't make a sound before a silent sigh leaves his mouth.
“Then what?”
“What then?” you frown, focusing on your cutting as he walks up to you. He leans against the counter with his lower back, crossing his arms over his chest. Luckily, he has put a t-shirt on. One second staring at him topless and you would be done for.
He's staring at you. You know he is, yet your eyes stay glued to the cutboard while you're taking your time with cutting the strawberries more precisely than it's necessary. “The water park. You wanna go?”
You halt, pursing your lips slightly. “Do you?”
He sighs again, “I think it would be a nice plan if we feel like it after we're done with the sightseeing.”
You stay silent before he taunts;
“Don't you?”
Your jaw clenches, “I think you should go if you wanna go so badly.”
He laughs sarcastically, “What?”
Fuck. You and your mouth. Composing yourself, you shrug before you put down the knife. “Didn't they want to go during the day?”
“Nara told me they will probably go in the afternoon. The heat is supposed to be crazy tomorrow, it's better to go later in the day.”
Of course, she did. Anything so she could go with Jungkook.
While that little comment sounds bitter in your mind, you do know Nara wants him to go. And you should not feel angry or annoyed at it. Maybe that's not why you're annoyed at it at all. It's simple knowing that Jungkook wants to go.
So forcing yourself to smile, you get the courage to stare him in the eyes. “You go if you wanna. I've got plans in the afternoon.”
Silence. For a split second.
“What?”
Another follows and you wet your lips as you shrug. “I'm going out with Gabriel.”
Well, he doesn't know it yet. He's waiting but you're guessing he will be more than glad to skip the water park. If he doesn't, that's going to be incredibly embarrassing for you and your ego.
Jungkook tongues his cheek, looking away as he scoffs silently. But the overbearing silence makes it ten times louder. “I see.”
“Jungkook–”
“Is this how it's gonna be?”
You gulp, “What do you mean?”
“We came here to spend time together but we spend it separately? Is that how desperately you want me gone?”
“Jungkook!”
He lifts his hand up, the point finger up as he motions for you to be quiet. “I'm going for a walk.”
“You don't have to–”
You don't get to finish it, he brushes past you and is gone before you can take another breath.
One of the worst habits you possess is the need to spill out anything that bothers you to someone. That someone is in most cases Jungkook, purely because he gives the best advice and comfort to anyone who needs it. He never judges and he just… gets it. He's that person you come to and can tell him anything, somehow the words he says or his mere presence is helpful enough.
For clear reasons he's not available – nor would he be suitable since he's the main reason why you're bothered in the first place. You're the one who messed up. For a moment you wondered whether you should go after him, to talk it out like any healthy person would do. But once you got out of the door, he was nowhere and to be walking alone around the Island with no one by your side is not something you wish to risk. Even though it seems to be safe here, you know he wouldn't be happy if he came back and you weren't here.
Or maybe he wouldn't care.
You would like to think he would. It's still Jungkook. No matter how many times you fight or there's tension, it's still him. But it feels wrong to count on this all the time, even though it's basic knowledge.
Sure, you've got other friends.
You wouldn't want to include Maya here. Purely out of knowing what her response might be – you've got to be a little selfish here because you know that's not something you want to hear right now. Anyway, she's probably planning her wedding or spending time with Namjoon. It feels rather awkward to be reaching out just because you find yourself in trouble. By your own responsibility.
But right after Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung came.
Jimin is someone who gives you the hard truth, sometimes even scolds you but with the greatest intention. That's not something you need right now either way.
And Taehyung?
He makes everything look easy with the way he sees the world and particular problems. There is barely any problem in his world. He says fuck it on most things with his optimistic persona. He simply just doesn't care.
Therefore, he's the safer choice than Jimin.
Luckily, once you call him and he's alone, you briefly mention the issue here. You kept it safe for your own sake or selfishness. However, you didn't have to mention anything because he questioned Jungkook's absence right after he complained about Jimin and the fact he brings his girlfriend almost everywhere.
When even Taehyung is silent, you're glad you've chosen a phone call instead of a video one.
“So, let me get this straight… you go to Hawaii together but you're about to spend it separately?”
“Well–just tomorrow afternoon. I didn't think it's such a big deal.”
“But you purposely encouraged him to–I don't even know how to call it–go and find fun somewhere else?”
You gulp, regretting now that Taehyung's words bite you in the ass. He's right though. “We met this group of girls and–I didn't want him to focus on me only. I want him to have fun.”
Okay, that's half of the truth but it works. You did more for yourself than for Jungkook, naively believing that it will be better for him. But that backfired and it seems he doesn't feel like it's better for him.
“And didn't it get through your pretty head that maybe, just maybe, he wants to have fun with you?”
“Tae–” you sigh.
“Not that kind,” You can tell he has rolled his eyes. “He just wanted you two to have fun in there. I'm pretty sure he didn't think with his dick when he wanted you to go.”
“I didn't say that.”
“I know, I'm just saying.” he hums, “Maybe he feels rejected?”
“What? You think so?”
“I think Jungkook has had a lot planned for the two of you and he imagined he would spend it with you. Not with both of you having fun with someone else, instead with each other.”
“I thought it's better this way.” you mumble.
Silence follows and you're not sure whether Taehyung heard or not, but you hear his soft sigh on the other end. “You do your thing tomorrow and he will do his. Or just spend the afternoon the way you wanted, just with each other.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is.”
“Tae, we were invited. I was asked for lunch–or dinner–whatever.”
“So? Fuck anyone else,” There it is. “Anyway, is the girl hot?”
“What.”
Taehyung laughs, “The girl that so seemingly goes after our Jungkookie.”
“I never said she's going after him.”
“You didn't have to, babe. It's clearer than Jimin's questionable choice of a girlfriend.”
“You're being rude, leave Jimin and his girlfriend alone.”
He snorts, laughing as you join. “I would ask you to send me pictures of the girls, but I kinda don't want to. I would regret not being there.”
“Can you not think with your dick when your friend here is in crisis?” you mutter.
“You got yourself there, hun.”
“You're not helping.” you grit through your teeth, hearing him laugh.
“Look, just talk to him. You guys communicate well. Well–it's bumpy these days but you got it.”
“How's your leg?” you ask instead, listening to Taehyung's complaints while your mind is elsewhere.
When Jungkook doesn't come within an hour, you're seriously starting to get worried. He has left in a hurry, therefore has forgotten his phone that mockingly sits on one of the small tables. Even though he's a man, you're worried for his safety no matter how safe this Island seems to be.
Just as you're about to grab your things and go search for him, the door clicks open and there he is.
Head low and almost looking like a kicked puppy, you debate whether to jump on him to hug him or slap him for making you so worried. If the roles were reversed, there's no doubt that he would search the entire Island for you. And that's not exaggerating at all.
Yet, you stand there – waiting for him to look up and be stopped by the glare you're giving him across the room.
“Where the hell have you been?”
You're angry. More at yourself than anyone else, but him scaring the shit out of you comes handy at the moment.
You know that defeated look. You both hate fighting. It's crazy you've never been through such hard times in terms of fighting than you have in the past year. Sure, looking at it optimistically, you've learned to communicate better. Sometimes.
Not particularly now. And you know some of it is mostly your fault now.
Being honest means much more than just that.
However that once mentioned defeated look is long gone. As soon as that tone and words leave your mouth, he glares at you with those intense dark eyes.
It doesn't matter that you sound like a mother scolding his son for coming home late.
“I went for a walk.” he says calmly, but there's something on the tip of his tongue. And his face says it all. I told you that.
You scoff. Before anything else can be said, he simply walks past you and you watch at the spot he just stood at in complete disbelief.
“That's it?”
“What else do you want me to say?” he offers, giving you I don't give a fuck attitude as he plops on the couch and stretches his legs on top of the table.
He grabs his phone and scrolls down through his notifications. He must know he forgot it here. There's no way he doesn't know now. But there's no sight of realization or anything. He simply seems like he doesn't care.
Not about that and certainly not about you stomping to the room.
“Are you serious now?”
He looks up from his phone, moving only with his eyes and you're stunned for a second. He's waiting.
“If I stormed out like that, you would give me hell for it!” you scold him.
“I told you I went for a walk. We both needed to cool off.”
You fumble over your words and try to make sense of them.
His eyes say it all. It looks like you haven't.
“Yeah, without your phone and you were gone for an hour!”
You watch him stare at you for a moment, sighing as he tosses his phone on the couch. “I'm sorry.”
The surprise on your face is evident.
“I forgot it. Didn't realize I was gone for so long.”
Well, an hour isn't so long but yeah, it felt like it. Especially the way he left.
You relax, a soft puff of breath leaving your lips before you nibble onto them with your teeth. You come closer, your knee resting against the armrest.
“I will cancel on Gabriel.”
He frowns, almost confused why would you do that. For a split second you feel embarrassed.
“So we can spend more time together.” you elaborate further.
“You don't have to do that out of pity or whatever.” he points out.
This is stupid. You're stupid.
“I'm not doing it out of–”
“Besides, I have a few plans throughout our stay here. Starting from tomorrow.”
“What,” you deadpan, hating the weird pressure and intuition that rises every second until he proves it right.
“I arranged it with Nara.”
It's dead silence for a moment. You're letting the information sink in until you breathe out in even bigger disbelief.
“What,” It's quiet, almost painful before you glance at his phone. “Your phone stayed here.”
“Met her during my walk.”
Oh, and she so accidentally appeared right where you were, huh?
He's not looking at you, staring at nothing in particular with a distant gaze.
“So let me get this straight–” You hold yourself together so you don't burst in anger. “You make a scene for not spending this vacation together and now you just make plans throughout it without me?”
You realize it's mostly said from your point of view and you fucked up, but him accepting it is even more defeating than anything else about this.
“As far as I know, you made plans too. Isn't this a good way of meeting new people?”
He's throwing it back at you. Clenching your jaw, you painfully swallow as you nod. “I see,” you mock his words, “You're right.”
And you walk out of the room – not knowing whether you should strangle him or yourself first. Only time can tell.
It's safe to say that sometimes your intention escalates and creates a new wave of something that can hardly be described positively. A part of you blames yourself for opening your mouth, even though your own intention behind it was not wrong. It wasn't supposed to cause any of this.
Already embarrassing as it is, having to lay next to Jungkook throughout the entire night has been another level. You've been tossing around, wondering if he's doing the same whenever you fall asleep for a few minutes until you're awake again. Seems like he's not particularly doing bad, but once again, there's an argument between you that has been maybe talked about, but definitely not solved.
You stick to your plans that have been planned out for most of the day. You've gone sightseeing, fed rescued animals and even visited local museums. Basically, done activities where other people mostly talked and you both listened – you were just there. Standing next to each other, walking beside each other but if it wasn't for these facts, some might think you were strangers.
And that thought that randomly crossed your mind hurt.
But you're just as stubborn.
This is for the better. Sure, you should probably make a mend, it would definitely make things easier and better. But you will try to focus on other people as well. Being with Jungkook alone on this vacation – well, it's not like you have many opportunities to focus on anything else.
But that could change. And it can change.
It's for the best. You both got distracted. Preferably with each other.
So when the time comes, you both end up at the beach nearby the beach house you're staying at. However, this time it's for you to get separated and each go your own way. Gabriel's friends are already there, wearing their swimsuits and covering it with thin layers of clothing. And then there's Gabriel as well.
You texted him, agreeing to the dinner but proposed to meet sooner. The truth is, you couldn't be alone at the house knowing where Jungkook is. It would eat you alive to be alone with your thoughts of blame and regret.
You have no idea where you will be going, perhaps more sight-seeing but you hope Gabriel has something planned out at the last minute. Sight-seeing reminds you of Jungkook as well, since you've spent your entire morning until midday.
You have not spoken ever since you came back. You both showered and changed clothes, here you are. Perhaps you've spent more time on your make-up. Your skin is glowing, covering everything that is laying beneath much deeper.
Summer dress with slightly low cut cleavage felt like the right choice. It's perfect for day time, could be great for night time as well and most importantly, you're not trying to look overly hot. This dress is practical.
And you have no idea what's up with men and summer dresses because you feel like you attract men's eyes as soon as they can make out your figure. Gabriel is speechless, though he's grinning and doesn't fail to give you a compliment.
Before you know it, Jungkook and Gabriel's friends bid you two a goodbye. Well – mostly Gabriel's friends because Jungkook is awfully quiet and doesn't even spare you a glance as he chats with Nara.
Jaw clenched, you turn around and smile widely at Gabriel. “So what's the plan?”
“Mm, don't kill me but I thought we could get a snack or something, wait–have you eaten?”
“I have,”
During lunch time with Jungkook. No matter how intense it seems to be between you, he still made sure you've eaten something. It's hard to be mad at him. But one memory of what happened just seconds ago is enough to make your features harden, just like your heart does.
“Have you?”
“I have,” he answers, “Cool, we can go to that dinner I promised you.”
You give him a slight chuckle, both of you walking nowhere specific.
“But maybe we could go to the water park as well?”
“What,” you stop, chuckling nervously. The whole point of going out was not to be in Jungkook's presence. “The others just left.” You point behind you, pretty sure they are no longer there.
“I kinda hoped we would go there alone.”
You give him a look, causing him to grin as he shakes his head. “Nothing creepy, I swear. Is it bad that I want you all for myself?”
“You will give me creeps if you continue to speak to me like that.”
He grabs his chest, pretending it hurts there. “Ouch. Is it always so hard to charm you?”
You look away, shrugging. “Not always.”
At least you didn't lie.
Best way to distract yourself is to do something. Anything that can't help you from thinking, or even overthinking. You give Gabriel that. Even though he has no idea he indirectly helped you and made your day better, attractions are a good way to just enjoy the presence. You allow yourself and your mind to be present with him.
You laugh and nicely enough, Gabriel is sweet and keeps his hands to each other. He doesn't give you creepy vibes – you're not sure if you wanted him to. He's polite, gentleman and funny. Everything anyone would like to see in a guy you're spending time with.
You talk, filling almost every second and moment with words. And yet, still somewhere rooted inside you, you keep looking around, hoping you won't meet Jungkook. Possibly see something you don't want to. You want him to have fun.
But deep inside you feel like you've pushed him to do this. It's stupid. You proposed something. You never forced him to do anything. But just because it hasn't been done directly, doesn't mean the outcome is not the same.
And you do it again. So you go to the first attraction you see, the water ride. You take Gabriel's hand, pulling him towards it until you're seated and drenched in water. After you're done, you both laugh at each other's appearance.
“I wonder if they sell towels here.” Gabriel says, praising himself for wearing slippers instead of actual shoes. His shirt is drenched, showing some of his abs. But you're respectful, you're not looking.
“It's hot, we'll be dry in thirty minutes.” you laugh, squeezing more water from the rim of your dress. It falls down your legs.
“True–how about–”
“Gab? What are you guys doing here?”
Coming from the side, you both glance at the way where one of the girls walks with the entire group of Gabriel's friends behind her. Great.
All you hear is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He must be around here but you don't dare to let your eyes travel further.
“We wanted to try some of the attractions too.” Gabriel answers as if it's not a big deal.
Although he's met with some confused looks from his friends, they're not overly judgy and you get them. None of you mentioned going here before.
“You could've gone with us. Oh god, did you guys just go on this ride? We went there first, you should've seen us! Actually–Nara and Jungkook just went there like ten minutes ago and–” She starts looking behind her, pointing in that direction but she doesn't have to.
Your eyes naturally find him there. Walking, unbuttoned shirt that is drenched similarly to your dress. The difference is that you can see his skin, a few droplets here and there as the sun shines on his tanned skin.
“We did–I wanted Y/N for myself, is that so bad?”
And that's when Jungkook looks up, undoubtedly catching Gabriel's words and your stare as well. Seconds pass by and someone keeps talking, but you don't pay attention. Jungkook's eyes travel down your figure before a slight frown settles on his face.
Looking down, and you hate that you do, you follow his line of vision. The outline of your breasts is visible, nowhere near explicit to the point where anything is visibly clear, but even the slightest perks of your hardened nipples can be noticeable if one truly looks there. This dress doesn't require a bra, the material around that area is thick enough.
When you were picking this dress, you weren't counting on getting it wet by any means.
Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook stares directly at you this time. Something about his gaze is so intense that you're not sure whether you're naturally nervous or aroused. Fuck.
“We were just about to get frozen yogurt, you guys wanna join? We'll leave you alone, I promise.” Matt, one of their friends jokes, causing all of them to chuckle just to tease Gabriel.
Gabriel is not a shy person. He rolls his eyes playfully at them, ignoring them right after before he looks down at you. He's taller than you, not as tall as the man who stands across you and you feel his eyes on you. It burns.
“What do you say? Frozen yogurt?”
Frozen yogurt is the least of your worries right now. The right thing would be to refuse and come up with some kind of excuse, maybe trying the good old I wanna try more attractions. Just so you could finally escape the burning gaze that is ten times hotter than the sun above your heads.
But the annoyance that slowly simmers inside you, followed by Jungkook's unpleasant face, changes your mind. Lips stretching into a wide smile, making sure Jungkook sees it and hears you loud and clear.
“Sure, frozen yogurt sounds great.” Delightful, you want to say.
The others cheer, clearly happy to have Gabriel join them. You see Matt throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, teasing him, undeniably about you as Gabriel shakes his head and with laughter pushes him away.
“You havin' fun?”
Jungkook walks next to you, looking ahead and not giving you one last glance. His jaw is clenched and you smile, amused and pleased even.
“Are you?”
“Wonderful,” he mutters.
“Good.”
“Good.”
Scoffing, you open your mouth but before any remark can make it out of your mouth, a woosh of coldness and pressure causes you to stop in your tracks. Most of it is blocked by Jungkook whom you manage to see turning his back, facing you while he shields you from the impact before your eyes are forced to shut.
The nearby attraction has splashed you, a few more people being a victim of it as they either laugh, curse or freeze in shock. Even your newfound friends who have managed to avoid the splash, gasp in surprise as they stare at the two of you.
You're fully drenched, every inch of you covered in water as you can feel it drip down your dress. So much for being dressed nicely.
“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Gabriel asks, walking over to you.
Though you look up at Jungkook, who stares at you before his eyes drop down to your chest. You know his stare is not an act of lust, more of acknowledgment you should make. You don't have to look. You feel it.
Your arms cover your breasts, turning to Gabriel to respond to him. However before you're able to utter a single word, you feel a soft touch of hand over your lower back.
“We have to change clothes.”
“I saw a stand with some clothes where the kids' attractions are.” Nara tries to help, pointing in the left.
Jungkook ushers you to move before you can get drenched any more than you already are. Stupidly, you let him and you hate how you enjoy his hand on you. Maybe it has something to do with Nara watching.
There are no words said as soon as you distance yourselves from the rest of the group, leaving them up to their activities while there's a suffocating air surrounding you. The burning weather has nothing to do with it this time.
You watch Jungkook pick random shirts and shorts once you get to the stand. The older man who sells it tells you that this happens pretty much often, that's why there are a lot of towels and clothes for sale. Of course, it always has a Hawaiian theme or a water park one. You let Jungkook interact with the seller while you linger behind him, offering him a soft smile in return because that's all you can do.
“There is a changing room with a restroom around the corner. It's more to the side, so it's not much crowded, in case the lady needs more privacy.” he advises nicely.
Smiling one last time, Jungkook briefly nods as he follows the man's directions and leads you to the mentioned changing room.
He forgot to mention it's a single room. You can still hear screams and laugh from the side, but it's more isolated right now. You get inside, scanning the room. It's spacious. There are hangers on the wall, a basic bin and a sink. A huge mirror is spread across the one wall, the lighting is shitty though. The light bulb weirdly glitches but there is no weird smell in here. You hate public bathrooms, especially at water parks.
Surprisingly, there's not much water on the floor. The man was right. There are not many people who use this changing room. You've seen a couple of them when you were walking with Gabriel, but you haven't thought much about it. It sort of makes sense now.
The door clicks behind you, causing you to look across your shoulder. “Umm, where are you going?”
Jungkook looks up, brows frowning as he grows slightly offended by the question. “To change?”
His own question holds an attitude and you just stare in bewilderment for a moment. But when he doesn't move an inch, stubbornly standing his ground, you frown as well.
“Can't you wait?”
“Can't you wait?”
You scoff, almost laughing how childish this situation is. When Jungkook is mad, he can get slightly childish or let you feel all the nice things he does for people, until he stops it just to get petty. Not that you can't complain. You do the same things.
However, you use your mouth much more than he does. He's more subtle with it.
“I was here first.”
It's childish, you know it, yet you still point out when you're not sure how to react in the first place. Jungkook laughs under his breath.
“I wanna get out of these clothes as much as you do. Let's turn around and not look at each other.” he proposes, thinking that's the problem.
Little does he know you could care less if he sees you naked or whatever. You hate the way the water drips down his body, the ends of his hair picking up all the water until it slowly drops and it does the same thing seconds later. You hate how his tan body peeks through the opened button-up.
He's here. Yet it seems like he's never been further since you came to Hawaii.
All of this is stupid. You've been through much worse back home and you were able to make up.
But there's a lot of stubbornness and until you get there, you'll have to get through this somehow.
“You think that's the problem?” you question, seeing him giving you a confused look as he starts taking off his button-up.
He turns around to the sink, squeezing any water access he can from it. You don't move. You just shamelessly stare as he completely unbothered continues to do what he came here to do.
How dare he? Your self-consciousness mocks you.
“And what's the problem here exactly?”
He doesn't even spare you a glance, continuing to squeeze his completely scrunched up shirt.
“Are you seriously asking that?”
“I asked, didn't I?”
You scoff, ready to pounce on him. Not the good kind.
“There's a thing that's called space.”
The double meaning sits in the air, yet he doesn't look perplexed by it. For all you know, he doesn't even notice it as he bluntly continues his task. It pisses you off.
“There's enough space between us.” he simply says.
Your chest squeezes, causing you to purse your lips for a second as you breathe out. “You can't be serious right now.”
“I'm not even looking at you,” he scoffs, “I'll just change my clothes and I'm out of here. If you wanna just stand there and wait, you're free to do that.”
The audacity of this man is beyond the words. Is this how payback feels like?
“Oh, got it. You're eager to get out of here.” So you can get back to Nara, you want to add but decide not to. You would sound like a jealous bitch.
Somehow, Jungkook seems to get the hidden meaning behind it, almost as if he could hear your thoughts from out here. He chuckles, it's just the amused look he gives you that barely lasts a second, but it leaves you breathless and all exposed.
The dress clings to your skin, you want nothing more than to take it off. You don't dare to move though.
“May I remind you it's you who wanted me so eagerly to be out there?”
It's like you speak in riddles, yet you both know the exact meaning of them. You both don't dare to say it out loud.
Getting tired of it, but mostly letting out the anger that you mainly hold for yourself, but for the man in front of you as well, you take an angry inhale of breath.
“What exactly is it that you want, Y/N?” His voice rings loudly in your head, even though there's nothing loud about his tone.
Shakingly breathing out, you quietly point out; “You can't be fucking your best friend, Jungkook.”
The emphasis on your relationship is clear, though all Jungkook does is chuckle under his breath, scoffing. He throws his shirt into the sink, walking up to you. Your breath catches, though you can't almost anticipate once he's close to you. He stops, just centimeters from touching you. You can smell his faded cologne sticking to his skin and you almost crumble.
“What if I wanted to?”
“Jungkook–”
“You always make a decision without talking to me. It is yours, I respect it,” He stops for a brief moment. He stares your face up and down. “What exactly are you so scared of?”
And the fear comes rushing to you, mainly located in your chest as your hands flinch to squeeze it. You remain standing there, not being able to look him in the eyes. His eyes are on you, you feel every inch of them, the proximity they shine.
“This is ridiculous.” You try to move past him but he stops you.
“It is,” he agrees, “Is this about sex?”
“It's not just about that!” you argue, voice hushed and almost scandalized that you're having this conversation in public. You only hope there's no one standing outside, able to hear you.
You heard Jungkook locking the door, but still – there might be people waiting.
“I know you,” he says silently but clearly. “I know there's something going on inside that pretty head of yours that you're not telling me.”
“Stop.”
“Are you in love with me?”
You gasp, “What? No!” you push him, palms against his chest but he holds you by your wrist, amused by your sudden outburst.
“So why are you so adamant on pushing me away? All of a sudden, may I add?”
He's asking all the right questions and you despise it at the moment.
“You can't be fucking me forever, Jungkook. It must've ended at some point.”
“Oh–and you just decided on it without talking to me?” he scoffs, “You just randomly pushed me onto some random chick.”
“If I remember, you're willingly spending your free time with this random chick.”
He grins, though there's nothing genuine about it. It's fueled with cockiness.
You might realize there's more to Jungkook's reaction. You suddenly start to understand why he's maybe hurt by your sudden twist of emotions. While you never came out of the wrong place, at least your intentions never did, you might understand what his problem is.
He expected you to communicate with him about it. He might be right about that, but you also had your own reasons and yes, maybe you fucked up and it didn't go as planned, but you won't take the blame for all of it.
It's hard to focus on it though, especially when there's unspoken annoyance and anger dancing around you two.
“It was your suggestion.” he states matter-of-factly.
One, you regret.
He lets go of your wrists, but not before rubbing it softly with his thumbs. It's a minor detail, one you almost don't notice but it would be a total shame if you would.
“With a good intention.”
“And what's the intention?” he asks right away, tone slightly more defensive. “Huh?”
You open your mouth but nothing comes out of it.
Exactly – Jungkook's face says it all.
“To push me away? Because you're too scared to communicate?”
Jungkook's annoyance comes mostly out of this. You've used to communicate and talk about everything. And that brings you to the point. Things have changed. There are minor details, perhaps even more minor than Jungkook's faint touch of affection he gave to your wrists just now. But in these kinds of situations you can perfectly see them.
Does he not see it?
“Fine,” you spit out, “You want me to communicate? I will.”
“About time!” he exclaims.
“I want you to meet new people. Be open to meeting new people.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he grimaces.
“You can't be open to meeting someone when you're fucking me the entire time!” you exclaim back, chest heaving as he looks taken back.
That's all gone as his brows furrow. “That's not your decision to make. When I'm ready to meet someone, I will.”
“That's not what I meant–”
“Really? Because that's all I could gather. If I wanted to be single for years, I easily could and that has nothing to do with you.”
Ouch.
“I know–”
“Do you?” he asks. “Because to me it seems like you don't get it. If you didn't wanna have sex with me so badly, you could've just easily called it off. For the hundredth time anyway.” he mocks the last part.
That's where you gasp and come up to him, invading his space. He doesn't seem to mind.
“But you wanted it, didn't you?”
He taunts you, even though you're in his face, looking angry as ever – he remains calm and has all the control.
“A part of you still wants it. That's why you can't see me with Nara–”
“That's not about her.”
“Is it not?”
“No. I told you to meet people. That's all I wanted, don't you remember?”
He scans you for a moment. “So we're at this point where we can fuck whoever we want?”
Fuck. You did not expect him to ask this. Nor did you expect to get to this point. You led him to it. You are the reason why he's asking this. You don't blame yourself for this, it's a simple fact. It will happen sooner or later.
So why the fuck there's an answer caught in your throat?
“Do you want that?” he continues. “I promised you we would go here as friends. No sex. Anything.”
Your throat feels dry, painfully dry that it even hurts to swallow. There's nowhere to escape. There's an imaginary spotlight set on you, Jungkook's determined gaze making up for it.
“We agreed to come here as friends.”
“That's not what I'm asking.” His response comes quickly.
He stares at you, searching your face for something unknown and you shift under his gaze, causing your own eyes to trail somewhere else. You can't hold eye contact. He waits. But when he doesn't get anything in return, he simply scoffs or chuckles under his breath – you can't tell – and takes a few steps away from you.
His shorts go next, he takes them off and tries to squeeze any excess water.
“I just wanted you to–I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet someone new. It wasn't supposed to come out as pushy or anything.” you murmur gently under your breath.
He stops for a brief moment, not moving. “How about talking to me next time, yeah?”
You nod, though you're not sure if he sees it. He's not even looking at you. Brows pinched in together, you watch him continue with his task.
“Noted.” You drop your head low.
“If you want to fuck someone else so badly, just tell me.”
“That's not–” Your reaction comes fast. Eyes wide and mouth open, you shake your head. “You think–”
“Don't you?” he almost accuses you.
“You think I–” You make air quotes with your fingers, “pushed Nara on you because I wanna fuck someone else?”
“I no longer know what I think.”
“If I wanted to do that, I would.” You assure him, comically using the same words he has used not that long ago. It's the truth.
“Good to know.”
“Good,” you exclaim. “I guess we can both agree that we're capable of doing what we want.”
“Are we?”
Your mouth slightly opens. “Huh?”
“Are we capable of doing what we want?”
The shorts join his scrunched up shirt in the sink, knowing Jungkook will wash the hell out of it once he gets back. He loves to do his laundry. But that's besides the point.
What matters is how Jungkook inches closer to you, his eyes eating you up and noticing you haven't shredded a single piece of clothing. You catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your pupils wide, an expectation screaming out of them while your skin remains wet. Trails of water trailing down between your breasts.
He follows it before his eyes slowly go up until they meet yours.
“Perhaps it's a curse or talent, but one look at you and I can already tell where your mind's at.”
He doesn't make you feel pathetic. He simply comments but finds some sort of enjoyment in it. The male's ego is never truly gone and you wish you could crash it, verbally using your mouth as you're good at it. It doesn't matter that his implication is true – it doesn't matter you both know it. You would fight and argue, just to compete his ego with your own.
It seems like you're not able to this time.
“Yeah? And where's your mind at?” you try to sound unbothered, but the way your chest slowly starts to heave up completely betrays you.
“At the same exact place where yours is. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to say it out loud.”
He backs you to the counter, nowhere near touching you – yet he does it with a single stare and has you exactly where he wants you. The tip of your toes almost touch, his figure hovering over yours.
Gulping, you try to play it cool. “Go on then. Tell me.”
He chuckles, it's soft but holds amused darkness that's wrapped around his cords. “If you insist.”
You don't. But you play into this fake illusion of not knowing what he's talking about. Just a pure excuse to try and prove him otherwise. To be honest, you might be curious about what he has to say. Jungkook has a good judgment for a character – when it comes to you. That obviously does not apply to his exes.
“I'm supposed to be somewhere else, physically and mentally, but here I am thinking of different ways of having you.”
You stop yourself just in time not to gasp out loud, showing him a vocal reaction other than your heart picking up its pace just at the single thought of it. Let alone having to hear him confess that.
Clearing your throat, you try to straighten your posture but end up brushing against his chest. You do your best at ignoring it, staring him straight in the eyes. “And that's what I want?”
Don't lie to yourself, the little devil of your consciousness ironically laughs. Of course you know all of this, you just have this urge to prove him otherwise and crush that confidence he has within himself.
“Please, you're already salivating just from the thought of it.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you argue: “No, I am not.”
“Tell me,” he cocks his head to the side. “Would you rather bend over the counter or sit on it?”
He sounds nothing but curious, not even feeding to your delusions of him being out of touch with reality. Only he is not.
“You're an idiot.” you breathe out, trying everything to sound scandalized or offended. You would be able to fool if it was anyone else. But not him.
“For speaking the truth?”
“You're saying it as if I would want that. Listen to what I'm saying.”
He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “Words are irrelevant when your eyes practically beg me to touch you.”
You know he chose a lighter version of what he would initially say. He wants to be way more explicit, but you're both dancing on the edge.
“You think you know everything when it comes to me.” It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth. He doesn't appear to be offended because you both know how much he truly knows you.
To bring this conversation to a different topic, he chooses to ignore it and simply smiles.
“So if I were to do this–” He lightly touches the side of your neck, wrapping his hand carefully around it. You inhale shakily, not being able to control it. “Would you tell me to stop?”
He gently massages your pulse that moves under his thumb, watching goosebumps appear on your soft skin. His hand is gone before you can blink, but is soon replaced by his fingertips tracing down your neck, past your collarbone until they stop at top of your breasts.
“Hm?”
You're not able to react. Your chest heaves, a glare fixated on him but no sound comes out of your mouth. He has you. Wrapped around his fingers, proving his point. Because of his ego and confidence, you know he's proving it to you rather than to anyone else. He can be that annoying.
Close to leaning toward his touch, the tip of his fingers play with the hem of your dress, occasionally and very faintly touch your skin. His other hand goes down, playing at the fabric of where your dress ends. It goes up, fabric gathering over his wrist. You shudder, mentally begging him to do more.
As if he could read your mind, his eyes look up without having to move his head, dark sinister spark in them. When he doesn't see you protesting, merely making sure of your current state, he does not waste a second and pulls the top hem of your dress. Revealing your breasts, he sucks in breath at the perked nipples. His hold on the dress tightens and within seconds, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple.
“Fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back as you arch into him.
He's like a starving man, perhaps he is from the stupid condition you've made up, but so are you. The other hand grasps the back of your thigh, molding his fingers into your skin as if he wants to leave as many imprints as he can.
Teeth grazing your teeth, he wraps his hand around your neck once more and makes you look at him. You just stare at each other, not an ounce of shame written on your faces. Your noses touch, your mouth already opened as small gasps similar to moans escape. You beg him to kiss you.
He doesn't.
Instead, he drops down to his knees and before you know it, his hands disappear underneath your dress and shamelessly pull down your only piece of underwear. Once that's done, he hoists up your leg over his shoulder and dives in right away. You can barely grab the edge of the sink counter and balance yourself on it, before his mouth is on you.
“Jungkook–”
You swear you hear him chuckle, but you're too distracted by the shots of pleasure he's attacking you with. He shows no mercy. Fingers wrapped in his hair, you tug onto his roots as he moans against you.
Nobody does it like you.
While that thought normally scares you, now you're fucking grateful he's the one that's between your legs.
You come embarrassingly fast, trying to keep yourself silent from moaning and embarrassingly so, you have no idea whether you've succeeded or not. Jungkook fucks you through it with his mouth, stopping just at the right time as he pulls away.
Lips swollen and red, eyes drinking you up, he effortlessly stands up. “Was this anything relatively close to where your mind was?”
It was far dirtier but there's nothing to be disappointed about. When it comes to orgasm and Jungkook, he never disappoints.
“I can't complain.” you breathe out, watching how he pulls up your dress and covers your breasts to give you at least some kind of modesty.
It's a single detail, one he never had to do and you never fully noticed – but no matter what, Jungkook always looks out for you. A blunt apology wants to come out, for numerous reasons of the misunderstanding of your own fears and good intentions, but Jungkook takes a few steps back.
“Change your clothes, I will wait outside.” he says, quickly changing his own before leaving you up to it.
You turn around, not being able to let go of the counter as you grip it harder and stare at your face. He didn't even go all the way and you look like you've had the time of your life.
Once again, you and Jungkook have succumbed to your desires and broken the only condition you've had for this vacation. It should leave you disappointed and perhaps you are little, but you're definitely satisfied for the time being.
At least until you have to walk out of the door and face the storm in the form of your best friend.
Your knees and hands have stopped buckling by the time you've changed into dry clothes. Nothing screams more than a tourist wearing an oversized shirt with a huge label saying “I love Hawaii”, an image of a red heart replacing the word love. It's something you would've worn to bed to sleep in – or at the beach to cover up the least – not parading yourself in it in public.
The sense of fashion is the last of your worries or things on your mind though.
Jungkook has waited outside of the door, guarding it safely. After his sudden leave, you did not lock the door which could be a terrible mistake if Jungkook wasn't there to make sure no one walks in. Somehow, you knew he was right behind that door.
The walk toward the rest of the group is spent in silence. As if his mouth wasn't all over your private areas. The memory of it makes an excitement bubble in your stomach, even though it should probably be at least a hint of some kind of regret.
You do not regret the act itself. Mostly, it's just you being so weak to prevent it.
Maya would surely get the baggage off your shoulders, supporting this wild decision. But she just doesn't get it.
Simple walk to find your newfound friends – or whatever you would call them – makes you miss your real friends. You wonder how things would go if they were here.
Maybe it's just your stupid naivety of believing that it would be different. No matter what, it seems you and Jungkook always find your way to each other – intimately speaking.
One thing's for sure.
Jungkook has confronted you. There's truth to both sides.
Of course the man can have anyone he points his finger at. It was your foolishness to think this vacation was the perfect chance at it. Selfishly, you might've done it more for yourself than for him.
And what if you would meet someone as well?
It would certainly make things easier. The decision would be way easier too.
Gabriel is handsome. Hot and charming. Practically the perfect package for a vacation hook-up. And as much as would be leant toward maybe kissing him at least, you can't do that when Jungkook is right there.
Once you find them, the mood is sour between you and you're not even trying to hide it. Maybe it's the lack of smile and a big portion of silence that makes them notice it. No one comments on it. In fact, you don't think it's worth being commented on.
Their positivity and good mood continues to be unaffected.
“We dodged the whole frozen yogurt, heard there are these best waffles somewhere around here with fresh fruit. Wanna go there instead?” Gabriel is the first one to ask, eyes finding your figure as soon as you approach them.
In this heat, sweet food or a snack is the least of your cravings.
“I'm actually not hungry at all,” you respond, feeling guilty for not being up for this idea.
Gabriel looks confused for a moment, certainly remembering you were all up for frozen yogurt just a few minutes ago. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't question you but you can see the questions running inside his head.
Maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of his friends.
“The heat is killing me.” you add, trying to save it.
He nods, glancing toward the man next to you who hasn't made a move to… move. “Jungkook?”
“I already had a dessert.” he comments, shamelessly staring at the side of your face.
Eyes almost bulging out, you keep your calm and try to not react. Even though Jungkook has not worded it out weirdly to give anyone a big suspicion, it's you and your guilt that makes it think it's so obvious. You wish you could glare at him, but you know there are eyes on you.
“We stopped by the fruit stand, so we had that on our way here.” you lie, straight through your teeth and even though you could be defined as the worst liar ever, this lie comes out sweet and believable. But it's Gabriel's eyes that continue to stare and watch you like you're the biggest open book.
Fuck.
“Yeah, the fruit here tastes nice.” Jungkook continues and you do everything in your power not to smack him across that bratty mouth. Mouth you wish you could have kissed.
You give him a look, but he just cocks his brow at you. “Yeah, Jungkook came up with this idea–”
“Did I?”
You glare at him, “Anyway–sorry, I know we wanted to go there together.”
“It's fine,” Gabriel laughs, “We're still gonna get it. You guys are still going with us, right?”
“Yeah, sure!” you force yourself to smile, joining Gabriel as you feel Jungkook's burning gaze on your back.
That's until you hear Nara's voice behind you, making a casual conversation between them and diverting his attention elsewhere.
Once the sun is slowly setting down, you part ways and go back to the beach house in silence. No difference happens once you're inside, just the two of you.
The past two hours spent with people you've met here felt like a torture. That's what you at least thought until you and Jungkook continued to pass by each other as you two are getting ready. Comically enough, not to go somewhere together but with different people.
He kept his word and accepted Nara's offer to go out tonight. Whether he's doing this to piss you off or because he wants to is unknown to you. Perhaps there was a slight hope that you two would just come to an agreement to cancel and go somewhere together. Even staying inside would be enough.
Once Nara asked Jungkook if their plan is still on and Jungkook so shamelessly confirmed, all the hope left as soon as it came. Gabriel has done the same with you and there was nothing other for you to do, then to agree.
It's a pure comedy. If there was a third person just watching the two of you, they would have the time of their life. Somehow you can imagine Taehyung here, sitting on the couch as he judges you two but stays entertained throughout the entire time.
After taking a shower, you end up doing your make-up in the living room with the smallest mirror you've brought on this vacation. Your previous plan of doing it in the bathroom where there is a massive mirror has failed as soon as Jungkook uttered his need to use the shower as well.
You're not sure if he's done it on purpose, but he sure as hell took his time there. You're putting on the lipstick when he finally decides to get out of there.
Both of you stop.
He's wearing an all white – button-up with shorts that reach just above his knees. Shorts you didn't even know he owns. He looks elegant, yet casual just for the hot weather even though there's a slight darkness outside. His slicked back hair definitely helps.
Jungkook's eyes fall down on your figure. You're wearing a simple short black dress but the gold necklace and red lipstick adds a pinch of sexiness to it. None of you are overdressed or could win the outfit of the year, yet you can't keep eyes off each other.
You're the first one to break it, standing up and tidying up your make-up stuff that's all over the table, but not before raising a provocative brow at him. He scoffs as he walks past you without any word, his cologne the only thing left and lingering. Out of his sight, you close your eyes and breathe out the gathered breath in your lungs.
The two of you leave at the same time, in different directions to different people.
The restaurant where Gabriel has taken you is nice and they have a variety of food on their menu. You have a nice view of the beach and sea which adds points in your imaginary review of this place. You've got to be honest – Gabriel definitely went out his way to invite you here.
He doesn't mention his friend – Nara – not even once and while you're not sure if you want to hear the reminder of her hanging out with Jungkook at the moment, you hope you won't bump into each other. You feel bad.
You listen and talk to him, but your mind is all over the place. You should've known you won't be able to enjoy tonight if there's someone you've fought with. And with Jungkook out of all people.
At least the food is nice.
After two hours of good dinner and dessert, and a few glasses of wine, Gabriel decides to walk you back to the beach house. You're not stupid to decline it, especially at night. Before that you decide to take a quick walk down the beach.
“So, what are you saying? Was the dinner that bad?”
You give him a look, chuckling. “Did it meet your expectations of getting to know me?”
Now he's the one who laughs. “Yeah,” he nods. “Kinda makes it hard for me to go back to Italy.”
You raise your brow, smirking. “So you're saying you're not going where I go?”
He laughs at your joke, “I'm thinking of it.”
“Yeah, sure.” you laugh, “One dinner is all it took?”
“You're special.”
And you're more likely looking for a hook-up, you think. You both know there's no future to this.
“I am special?” you snicker, “Is that what you say to all the girls?”
“Is it working?” he teases.
“Nah, it takes more effort when it comes to me.”
He stops in his tracks which causes you to do the same. He stares, eyes dropping down your lips and red lights flare in your mind. Knowing what it most likely means, you quickly turn away.
“Come on, I'm so full I could fall asleep.”
Cringing at yourself, Gabriel follows and doesn't seem to be shaken up from it. He continues to talk and the mood is pretty much loosen up, which has been from the beginning. You had a good time and it went better than you expected it to.
Gabriel doesn't try to kiss you and you bid goodbye with a casual hug, both of you understanding that nothing will come out of this.
The lights are on as you open the unlocked door, meaning that Jungkook is already back. It seems like he just came as he came out of the bathroom, surprised to see you there.
“How was your date?” he asks, looking away from you in a second.
“It wasn't a date.” you clarify which makes him snicker. “What? It wasn't.”
“An Italian guy wants to make plans with you, alone. You might be right, it's not about a date at all.”
You give him an offensive look, “Are you insinuating that all I'm good for is a hook-up?”
“No, don't twist up my words.” He immediately stops your mind to go somewhere his mind doesn't even get close to. “I'm insinuating that a guy from freaking Italy suddenly shows his interest in you, when you live across the world.”
You frown, watching him reach for a glass of whiskey you haven't noticed before. He's not drunk but what he is, is confidently smirking in your face as if he knows everything. Well, he's not too far off. Gabriel wants to have fun and while he seems to be a decent human being, he's not about to move to a country to be with you. You wouldn't expect him to anyway.
“But you're right,” He purses his lips, the rim of the glass almost touching it as he lets out the tiniest chuckle that's supposed to be hidden. “He's probably wanting to marry you.”
He's provocating you. The plans have not turned out the way you both wanted to – but it is what it is. Your curiosity almost kills you and your impatient-self wants to ask him about this date, or whatever it was. This is a game, you realize.
And you won't let him have that satisfaction of you asking.
“He wanted to kiss me tonight.” you inform him.
You watch him take a sip, pursing his lips right after as you slowly watch him swallow down the hard liquor. “I'm sure he wanted to do much more.”
Is that a jealousy you hear?
No one has quite peaked your interest regarding this matter. Judging by Jungkook's confidence, he knows that.
“Next time I will let him kiss me. Maybe then he will want to marry me eventually.” You give him a false smile, stopping right beside him as he wants you with a clenched jaw.
Not giving him a chance to respond, you walk away with confident steps into the bedroom. The door closes and your back meets the wood. You can feel your heart in your neck, all the facade of confidence and peace leaves and you softly bang your head against it.
What you said was completely stupid. You don't want to kiss Gabriel. In fact, the thought of it is nowhere near as exciting as one would expect it to be. Both of you know that the second part was only said to piss him off and prove a point.
The questions are…
Will you let him kiss you next time?
Did or will Jungkook kiss someone else in here?
The ongoing battle that you're in the middle of has not ended.
Both sleeping at the very both ends, as far away from each other as possible, has been a good way to start the day. It's not like you expected to cuddle during the night.
That's not what friends do, your mind wants to say. But you've crossed that line too many times. You're not the typical friends either, that ship has sailed a long time ago.
You shouldn't have pushed him away. It's too late to take it back. For a moment you think of coming to Jungkook, apologize and somehow talk yourself out of this impossible battle you're in. You're willing to take all the blame for it.
However, that's all gone as soon as you hear Jungkook calling with who you assume is Nara, his tone sweet and sounding exciting as they make plans for today. You stand there, making yourself a coffee as you try not to listen to their ridiculous conversation. How can you not?
Jungkook sits right behind you, even if you didn't want to listen – it's impossible for you not to. He knows that. He knows you're listening. You're the one who has come in the middle of their conversation.
The call ends after a minute, your coffee ready but your mind isn't when you turn around and face the devil. You've seen him from the corner of your eyes when you entered the kitchen area, but nothing prepares you for the shirtless Jungkook. His hair isn't messy, he seems to be well put and from the looks of it, he came out of the shower not that long ago.
He cocks his brow at you, questioning your stare making your features harden. “Having a date today?”
You painfully watch the way the corner of his mouth slowly lifts up as he chuckles. “Careful, you start to sound jealous.”
“Me? Don't be ridiculous,” you scoff, “Where is she from again? Doesn't she live across the world?”
Jungkook features lighten up with pure amusement as you use his words against him. “At least I can admit this is a date.”
“I simply hung out with a guy. We never stated it's a date.” you point out, knowing it sounds silly but Gabriel just wanted to get to know you. You never officially called it a date.
Jungkook stands up, grabbing his empty plate as he gives you another one of his snickers. “Be in denial all you want.”
“You know what?” He raises his brow in question, too close to you as he reaches to put the plate into the sink. “I'm not gonna spend this morning arguing with you. If I wanted it to be a date, I would make it perfectly clear to him.”
He smiles, but there's nothing sweet about it. “A date or a chance for a hook-up. I don't see the difference.”
He does. Jungkook has always been the dating type rather than the hook-up one. Your two friends have taken that label since forever. But obviously, he's not talking about himself.
Suddenly, the air becomes thick and you stare right into his dark eyes. He's hovering over you, his scent luring you in as his eyes dance across your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”
He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe again as you quickly recover. “Yeah? And what would that be?”
Jungkook grabs his phone and looks at you across his shoulder. “You should meet new people.”
Your mouth opens and you stare for a moment before you scoff, “If I wanted to date, I would already have like hundreds of boyfriends. The same goes if I was looking for a hook-up.”
“Good for you.” he calls out bitterly, leaving you in the kitchen with a fuming gaze and burning heart.
But you realize one thing. How selfish you've just sounded. Jungkook has told you the same thing.
If any of you wanted that, you could've easily done so. Yet your reason for saying it to him and what ultimately started this argument, is completely different.
Jungkook is a dick.
He has left for his date or whatever the fuck it is, and has left you alone in the house even without asking whether you have plans or not. You know your relationship right now is not at its best stage, but little consideration could not hurt. Especially since he's always been caring and considerate no matter how much your relationship has taken a different turn.
It's one of the reasons why you desperately wanted to move on. Throw your past away and come back to the friendship you've known since the beginning. It leaves you agreeing that your original intention has come from a good place.
Luckily, Gabriel seems to show interest in you, still, after the little rejection you've given him after his attempt to kiss you. He comes to you a little after you come to the beach to just lay there. He's been there with his friends since this morning – at their usual spot. Nara is nowhere in sight and much to your distaste, you know who's she with.
So once Gabriel invites you to hang out with them, you agree and would rather spend your alone time in a company of many people, than to dwell all alone about your decisions in life. He keeps you entertained and busy, away from your haunting thoughts. Until…
“Nara is with your friend. You know where they went?”
You sit at a bar, drinking lemonade in this burning weather and you're thankful for the sunglasses you're wearing, so he's not about to see the tiniest roll of your eyes. “No idea. He forgot to mention.”
In the morning which is the last time you've seen him. He just left you to be with another woman, in a foreign country. You know you can call him anytime. Even now – no matter what your relationship looks like, he would be here in a second if you called and needed him. But still – you're mad he just left without saying anything. Deep down you know that's not the only thing that irritates you.
“Nara fancies him a lot.”
So? You want to say. What are you supposed to do with this information?
“Really?” You're trying to sound surprised. But even Gabriel– who had so little time to get to know you – catches onto the tone and laughs. “It's pretty obvious.” You try to save it by simply stating.
“She did ask him to go out again today. From what I know, she was never the one who asked someone out.”
“Where does she live again?” you ask, taking a sip off a lemonade trying to quench the fire inside you.
“Spain.”
“It's not like there's any future to it.”
Gabriel stays silent and just stares, while you continuously take innocent sips. “Actually, Nara has applied for some modeling jobs in Korea.”
He's definitely not talking about North Korea, unfortunately that's unrealistic.
“Oh,”
Well, fuck. This just gave a completely different turn of event.
Considering your luck, she probably applied to your modeling agency as well. Many foreigners do. You just hope no one will mention it. Not to be a bitch, but you can imagine someone asking you to help her to get in. That's beyond your competency. But you could always mention her to Junho.
Oh my god. Jungkook has worked there too. He probably has saved your boss' number. While you think Jungkook wouldn't cross that invisible line you've set, he's always trying to help and save the day.
“Listen, how about I take you out for dinner tonight?”
That's… shocking.
After the last time you ended things, you thought he gave up. But you should've known better. It seems guys like him barely give up.
“What's else for us to do?” he chuckles, not really waiting for an answer but it still comes.
“What do you mean?”
He looks at you, reaching for his drink as his shoulders relax. “Our friends are meeting with each other almost every day.”
The taste of your non-alcoholic drinks becomes bitter on the tip of your tongue, just as much as your mood does. “As far as I know, you've got other friends here.”
“But none of them are you.”
Smooth. The little smirk you give him tells him everything. He's aware of his smooth delivery of compliments. You've got to give it to him – he knows his way around girls.
It's not like you have anything else to do. Jungkook seems to be busy and does not care what you do here anymore. And Gabriel's company is nice. If it's true what he said about Nara coming to Korea, there's a bigger chance of them making future plans together. And as much as this thought leaves the most bitter taste on your tongue, you'll leave that move for Jungkook to make.
After all, that's what you wanted for him and who are you to stand in his way.
Purposely not verbally reacting to Gabriel's flirting, you shrug and lean in your seat. “Dinner sounds perfect.”
Legs resting on top of the coffee table, Gossip Girl plays in the background as you mindlessly pop grapes in your mouth. Maybe you're silently imagining it's Jungkook whom you're crushing between your teeth.
After spending almost the full day with Gabriel and then the rest of his friends, you've come to the beach house finding it completely empty. It looks exactly where it's left off and you're embarrassed to admit that you've checked Jungkook's things to see if they've moved. And perhaps he was here. They haven't, which only meant one thing – Jungkook hasn't come here yet.
Sooner than later, the door opens and there he is.
He does not seem surprised to see you there – almost as if he knew you wouldn't be anywhere else. You give him that much satisfaction of looking at him once he arrives, acknowledging his late arrival. You hate what you do but it has its own purpose. And that is the single glare you give him.
You feel like a mother, silently scolding her child for coming home late.
He goes for a shower right away and you battle with thoughts of him, erasing the traces of possible sex on his skin. He comes back after a few minutes, wearing just his boxers with wet hair. You want to scold him for walking around like that, but that would be slightly selfish for numerous reasons. Is he torturing you on purpose?
He joins you on the couch, not questioning your choice of TV show as he knows you've previously seen it. As he sits down, you can't hold it back and just come straight to the point.
“Will you help her?”
Your gaze is focused on the TV screen, but you feel his own burning the side of your face. “Huh?”
“Nara.”
He just stares which causes you to look at him and roll your eyes at him. “She applied for modeling agencies in Korea.”
“Korea is huge,” he says after a moment. “And how do you even know that?”
“Gabriel told me.” You try to not sound too proud.
“When?” he asks confusingly. “She told me just today.”
He's questioning if you've known this information sooner but never told him.
This time you inform him with a smug face. “He told me today as well.”
The revelation that you haven't spent your day here alone is out. He is unreadable. He just watches you, almost as if he wants to make sure you're not making this up. Too bad for him. You're not making anything up and this time you're not too shy to show how proud you are for it.
“What? You thought I was here all alone while you went on a date?”
It's a purposeful jab, one that leads to nothing but disaster but you don't care. You're mad and annoyed. And now he knows why. Yet he doesn't make any effort to make an excuse for himself.
“You brought him here?”
First of all – you're not sure what would be so bad about it, even if you brought him here. But then it clicks. Jungkook has his own assumptions and bringing a guy here, while you're all alone could mean different things. Your skin is moisturized and you smell like your shower gel, which means you've left the shower not that long ago.
Perhaps it could be considered as disrespectful if you indeed brought him into a house, Jungkook rented and is a space for you two. You could understand that.
If the roles were reversed and you found out he brought Nara here – well… the thought of it doesn't sit well with you. But what does, when it comes to her?
“No, he asked me out after you so kindly left me here to go on your stupid date.” you huff out, standing up and forgetting about your TV show. The controller is tossed on the couch as you leave without looking at him.
Your steps lead to the bathroom where there's a slight trace of foggy mirror left after Jungkook's shower. Mentally groaning at the scent of him dominating in the room, you reach toward the sink faucet in a desperate need to freshen up your burning face.
You don't get to turn the water on as Jungkook is in your tracks, a burning gaze aimed at you. “You seemed to have solved it pretty quickly.”
Realizing he meant your accusation of leaving you to go on a date, you scoff.
“I wasn't about to sit here and sulk, waiting like a dog for you. If that's what you were planning for me to do.”
“I wasn't planning that,” he states, even though he wants to be just as mad for some reason. “I wasn't planning on being out until now.”
“Well, you were!” you exclaim.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Is that all you've got to say?”
He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What am I supposed to say?”
“You know what? Nothing. Say nothing.” you fume, forgetting your dumb purpose in the bathroom anyway as you rush to get past him. But as soon as you get close, his hand around your wrist stops you.
The touch is electrifying, sadly not in an awful way and you hate how your body reacts to him naturally. “Did you at least have fun?” you scoff.
“Would you be mad if I said I did?”
You almost cry, like a child but the anger inside you is bigger than anything else and you shake his hold on you. “And did you have fun?”
“Lots of it.” you spit the words at him.
You both stare into each other's eyes, the anger screaming out of them and yet the question you want to ask is unspoken.
“Good.”
“Goodnight Jungkook.” you murmur, walking away and quickening up the pace before you can do something you really want to, but would regret later.
One would think that after yesterday's exchange of pitiful words, you two would have solved it or at least tried to voice the problem here. It seems there is not enough pity and when the two of you want to, you could be the biggest pity bitches.
“Milk?”
Side-eyed look toward Jungkook, having two bowls of cereal ready and awaiting your answer. “I can make myself breakfast.”
“Milk?” he asks through his teeth, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back as you sit down.
“Yes.”
Whether this is his way of saying sorry for yesterday or not is unknown and you're not about to investigate it. You mutter a silent thank you once the bowl is set in front of you and you two dig into your breakfast without any other sort of conversation.
The rest of the morning goes like this. One word communication which seems almost like a challenge. Phones are your best friend but both of you are stubborn to talk. You swim in the pool for the first time since you're here, enjoying the sun warming your skin as Jungkook goes for his morning jog and comes back an hour later.
You're playing quiet house, so it seems.
As the day goes, it's more than clear that both of you have plans tonight. Separate plans.
Jungkook's phone goes off and he goes inside to take the call, after joining you in the pool. Trying to keep your nerves to yourself, you've had to endure his presence (lack of clothed presence). You went to rest on a beach chair while he swam. PAIN.
It's close to dinner time and you both get ready. Unlike Jungkook, you spend more time in the bathroom to do your hair and make-up, which he so “kindly” reminds you every time he wants to take a shower or goes to grab something there.
The air is thick and it has nothing to do with the scent of hairspray and your fragrance.
None of you ask what's your plan for tonight. But both of you can tell. No details though.
“You done here?”
You stop in the middle of putting your lipstick on as you give him a look, “Does it look like it?”
Ignoring the attitude in your tone, Jungkook comes up to the mirror and by doing that, he moves you to the side. He almost causes the lipstick to meet your cheek and you can tell, you almost see a smirk curling his lips.
“Don't look at me like that. You've been here for a long time.” he says without sparing you a glance.
While you watch from the side with an open mouth and disbelief written on your face, he easily grabs his hair gel and starts doing his own hair. You fume, snatching your make-up bag and stomping away to finish what you haven't had the chance to – thanks to Jungkook.
By the time you're done, Jungkook has left without saying another word. You haven't even heard him leaving and you feel pathetic as you search him around the house, all while trying to look for something. Turns out there's no one here and he has left. First and again.
Luckily, Gabriel texts you not that long after and proposes a short walk. He doesn't want to reveal the restaurant location but he had to make a reservation, which already sounds fancy as it is. You're hungry and considering you're not in your best state, still fuming, you decide not to complain. First of all, it's not polite at all.
Gabriel is trying and just because you're in a mood to be a bitch, doesn't mean he's the one who deserves it. At least there's some sort of self-reflection happening.
And two, maybe it's a good idea to walk around a bit to come to different thoughts. Plus, you will eat more by the time you arrive at the restaurant.
He has cleaned up nicely, catching female eyes as you walk around for a few minutes. The walk has been short, just enough to make a casual conversation until you arrive.
The restaurant is located on a pier, waiters all wearing fancy white shirts and slacks – a difference from all the shirts with Hawaiian motifs and skin showing.
As you're led to your table, you notice there's not a single table free and tonight it's fully packed.
“What is this place?” you ask as soon as the waiter hands you menus and leaves after.
“It's the most famous restaurant on this island.”
Your mouth opens and then it closes again. “Are you insane?”
He laughs, staring at you fondly as if you haven't been too bold with your words. “This is what I like about you.”
“What,”
“Your honesty,” he hums, “It's refreshing. You don't try to woo me.”
“Why would I woo you?” you ask, genuinely curious but again, it comes out a little bluntly which causes him to laugh again.
“Ouch,” he jokes, holding his chest as you stare at him across the table. “You're in this world to punish men for their overly huge egos.”
You purse your lips, “I'm not in this world for men, first of all.”
“Technically, you are thanks to one.”
Your nose scrunches up which causes him to laugh again. “That's besides the point.”
“So is there anyone who's been trying to woo you instead?”
“Besides you, no. Not at the moment.”
He cracks another laughter, “Touché. I deserved that.”
Giggling, you shake your head at your conversation.
“So tell me–” His words drift away because in the midst of your laughter, you spot someone entering your line of vision.
The world could not be any more cruel at the moment. There they are.
Jungkook and Nara enter the pier as they're seated by the waiter, just like you were minutes ago. Jungkook, the gentleman he is, pulls out the chair for her as she giggles with a bright smile. Clearly wooed herself by the sweet gesture.
“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter so silently, that you're sure Gabriel can't make the words out but it's enough to silence him as he follows your gaze.
He turns around and lets out a surprised, but light sound.
“Oh, I guess me and your friend think alike.”
You try hard not to make a sour expression as you clear your throat. “Let's not interrupt them. What were you saying?”
“Is there someone waiting for you? Back in Seoul?”
“I told you, I'm single.” you chuckle.
“I know, but that doesn't mean there's not someone who's ready to fight for you.”
Your fingers stop clicking and you gulp.
“So you're telling me there's no one in your life? Not even recently?”
It's like he can see there's something on your mind. You decide to come up with half of the truth. It's not like you'll see him again.
“There–It wasn't a relationship, more like a relationship of convenience–”
“So, a hook-up partner, right?”
Lips in a straight line, you hum in confirmation. “Yeah, whatever. We ended it, so it felt like a good decision to come here and just relax. Come to different thoughts.”
Cominically enough, you came here with a person you're currently talking about. The one who's sitting just a few tables from you two.
God, you sound so stupid. Of course, you're not telling Gabriel the whole truth. The purpose of coming here with Jungkook was to enjoy it, strengthen your friendship – the previous one you've had. You had an agreement.
Somehow, you end up arguing thanks to you and it gets all twisted.
“Well, I know you were supposed to come here with your friends. So I understand why you would do that.”
“It's not just because of that. We were planning this for months. It was supposed to be a friends' vacation.”
He hums in understanding and doesn't get the opportunity to speak, as the waiter comes back and asks for your order. After you've ordered your meal, Gabriel leans back and studies you for a short moment. Just before you're about to ask about his lingering gaze and its purpose behind it, he speaks.
“You're not really looking for a relationship, are you?”
Your brows shoot up at the unexpected question. For a while, you're not sure how to answer and your face says it all. In the end, you shrug and voice your confusion. “What's with the sudden question?”
“I apologize,” he smiles, “I had to voice my curiosity and I wonder if I was right.”
You lean back, fingers clicking against the table. “I'm not against it. If it comes, I welcome it.”
“Hm,” he hums. “So no hard break-up?”
“Why do you think so?”
“I don't know, there's just something about you that I can't seem to crack.”
“Sometimes some things aren't meant to be cracked.” you tell him, making him smile at the possible truth.
“Sometimes,” he agrees. “I'm sorry if I seem to be nosy.”
“No, it's okay. Trust me, I win when it comes to curiosity.” you admit with a silent laugh.
“I travel a lot, so I don't really have enough time to properly date. No woman wants a man who's ten months out of the country out of the year.”
“What do you do again?”
“Content creator.”
“Oh, so you're an influencer?”
He laughs, “Not really. I do write for a traveling blog.”
“Maybe you'll find someone you can date and travel with.”
“Unfortunately, you don't seem that kind of person.”
You laugh, “I do enjoy Seoul. It's home by now.”
It doesn't take a genius to realize that the only contact he gets through women is mostly by hooking-up. Though, by the look of it it seems that maybe he's longing for something more stable and serious.
“You know, this time I'm here for a good vacation. No work. No writing.”
“That's great. I'm assuming all that traveling is tiring.”
“It is. I enjoy it and I love my job. But I came here to maybe come to new thoughts.” he explains.
The waiter brings you your food shortly after. There's no awkward silence during eating, you keep a slightly lighter conversation as Gabriel remains nothing but a gentleman. You would lie if you said you're purposely focusing your gaze on the plate, rather than on Gabriel fearing your eyes would wander somewhere they should not.
You don't care. Maybe they noticed you and clearly decided not to interrupt you as well. Or maybe there's still that awkward awaiting of them noticing. Sipping on a drink, in a hope it will bring you to different thoughts and help you relax a little bit more.
The reason for your slight discomfort doesn't need to be named.
“You assumed, I've been through a break-up. Why?” you ask, curious as he seems taken back.
“I asked more than assumed,” he corrects. You don't seem to be buying that statement but remain silent. “At first I thought you're not interested in me, particularly. But I get a feeling you're just not interested in general.”
“Why's that?”
Yes. He might be right. You're not necessarily trying to search for someone. But you don't get a feeling as if you were against it.
“Let me be bold here.”
“Please.” you encourage him.
“There are men who can't keep their eyes off you. And I simply noticed by spending time with you.”
You give him a doubtful look which he quickly disregards by shaking his head.
“Men are men.” you simply tell him.
He makes a disapproving sound. “There are hundreds of women at the beach, but the majority of them stare at you.”
“Okay, now you're just giving me a compliment.”
“I am not,” he laughs gently, “I could but I guess it is a compliment when there are men thirsting over you.”
“Like I said. Men are men. They're thirsting over anything that wears a bikini.”
“That–can be true. But my point still stands.”
You clear your throat, “Okay. Maybe I'm not completely in a place where I'm searching for a relationship. I never hid that.”
“Of course. But that's why I just tried to prove my point why I think you're not interested.”
You stay silent for a second. He's technically a stranger but it seems as if you were having this conversation with a friend. You don't feel uncomfortable and there's no need for you to get defensive over this topic. He's wondering and that's fine.
“It wasn't a relationship. Just a hooking-up type of one and we ended it. So I just need to get things back how they were.”
And comically enough, the person who's a part of this is sitting just right over there. Even though Gabriel seems to notice quite a few things, Jungkook and your history with him seems to be oblivious to him.
Why do you care?
You've been trying to keep it a secret as long as possible until it got out. So what if he knows the truth? It's not like you'll see him again – most likely. You don't need anyone to judge you two or look at you differently. You definitely don't need any more insights into this matter than your friends have delivered.
Your own mind is a mess.
And on top of it, Jungkook and you are on edge.
The mention of him causes you to look up. And fuck. What a mistake you make.
You meet Jungkook's gaze, the intense color in them burning even from this distance as he's already looking at you. Your breath hitches in the most subtle way. While you stare shocked that he has noticed you, his brows are pinched together.
He's not exactly pleased to find you here.
Nara sits on the opposite side of the table, so all you can see is her back but she seems to be saying something to him. Jungkook reaches for the glass of wine and takes a few sips, eyes not leaving yours.
Then he's the first one to look away. That tiny detail affects you more than you're able to admit and you almost fume when the frown disappears from his face. You watch it all. His features relax as he talks to her back, obviously listening to her even though his eyes were elsewhere. Even that is kind of annoying.
Nara gently throws her head back and giggles almost so loudly, that you hear some of it. With the most burning eyes you watch Jungkook smile and let out the prettiest gentle laugh.
“Are you okay?”
You quickly avert your gaze to Gabriel. “Yeah.”
“Thought I already bore you.”
You push out a laugh, wishing Jungkook is looking. But once your eyes stupidly wander back to him – he actually is looking.
You make sure Jungkook sees the tiny provoking movement upwards of your lips. And he does. His eyes narrow, addressing the glare to you and only you.
“No, I'm starting to have a lot of fun.”
Gabriel's and yours glasses clink together comically in a synchronized way. But the only ones who seem to be on the same wavelength and having an idea – are you and Jungkook.
a/n: F-I–N-A-L-L-Y! believe it or not, nobody wanted to get this chapter out more than me! if you've been around and reading some of the asks, you probably know life got crazy and busy! as always, I'm super grateful to everyone who's been patient for me and cheering on me whether it was online or offline ♡ to every person who's been harassing me on the internet over an update, this one's not for you. I see you and I'm not interested. I've said this in one of my asks – you never know what someone goes through offline and what could possibly be the reason of their lack of activity.
on another note, this chapter should've had more scenes and so much more was supposed to happen, but from obvious reasons I've decided to post it in the end because I still think it's a good chapter. anyway, I hope you'll like it just as much as I liked it when I was writing it (no matter how much time it took me 🥴) all the love goes to you guys!
If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for chapter 60 will be posted there!
goal: 9k notes 🌙
© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
part two
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him.
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly.
“Really?” He’d smile down at you.
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours.
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties.
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin.
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently.
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment.
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties.
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble.
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel.
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress.
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.”
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers.
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips.
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit.
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady.
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss.
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move.
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps.
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock.
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more.
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly.
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop.
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth.
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x you#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fluff#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x you#my writing
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I've seen a few people now say that people won't be able to make dramatic winner art/animations out of Joel, and that couldn't be further from the truth
Yes, Joel doesn't take anything seriously. That what makes him terrifying.
Think about it. He's stuck in a death game and he is having fun. When everyone is chasing him down in the finale, he easily uses the teleport power to evade them while barely trying. He can taunt and laugh at them, confident he can't be caught, and he's RIGHT.
Joel feels no fear. He plays the game. He revels in the chaos with a smile on his face. If that is not an epic setup for a villain I don't know what is. It also creates a fun dynamic between him and the other winners. He doesn't care, he can taunt them with memories he's now regained ("Weren't you and Scar friends Grian? How's your soulmate Pearl?") and it throws them off because never has a winner been untouchable like this before. He has no guilt to grapple with, but everyone else does. That gives him innate power over the others
Joel himself is a wildcard. He enjoys the game as much as the watchers. He can adapt to anything, as proven by the series he won in. He has loyalties, sure, but in the end he didn't really care about killing Grian. He thrives when others struggle to survive, and he LOVES chaos.
In conclusion, Joel is the life series equivalent of Bill Cypher. In this essay I will-
#DoodleD rambles#wild life#wild life smp#Sorry if this isn't well written it was a spur of the moment thing lol#Anyways#Justice for Joel!#Nonchalant king#wild life spoilers#smallishbeans#traffic smp#trafficblr#life series spoilers#life series
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🌹Surrender❄️
♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.
♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne
♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp
♡︎ word count: 5.5k
♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!
♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia
The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”
Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”
You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”
Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”
“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”
The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”
Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”
Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”
Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”
Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.
The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.
“This place again?”
You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”
Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them.
Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks.
Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.”
“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm.
Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.
The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.
You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”
The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.
But your hand starts to wander.
It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”
You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.
Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.
You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.
Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.
“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”
Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.
Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.
“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.
“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”
Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.
Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—
And then Zayne pulls back.
The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.
Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.
Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.
“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”
His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”
Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.
Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.
“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.
Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”
Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.
“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.
“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”
Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.
The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.
“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”
You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”
“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.
Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.
“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”
Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.
Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.
Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.
“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.
Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.
“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.
You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”
Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.
You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.
Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.
“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.
Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.
Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.
Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.
“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.
Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.
“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.
Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.
“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”
Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”
Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”
You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words. Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.
Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”
The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.
You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”
Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”
Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.
“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”
Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.
“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”
The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need
“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”
Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”
His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.
Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.
“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.
“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.
You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.
But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.
“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.
His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.
Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”
Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.
Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”
Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”
The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.
Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.
Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”
Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”
Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.
Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.
You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”
Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”
Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”
Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”
Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”
You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”
You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”
Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.
“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”
“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.
Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”
By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.
#ncs secret santa#merry ficmas#sylus love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne smut#zayne x reader#zayne x you#sylus smut#lads sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#l&ds zayne#lnds zayne#love and deepspace zayne#zayne lads#love and deepspace
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to weave my love ⭒ n. riki
⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.
⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader
⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)
⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!
⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end
⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.
What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.
See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading.
In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now.
“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.
“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?”
(Nope.)
Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?
Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.
A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.”
“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording.
Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards.
The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing.
“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him.
You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.”
Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”
“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.
Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.
“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.
Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.
“I better hear you two are dating by next week.”
“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth.
“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.
Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.
“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.”
“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.
Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”
The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?”
Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.”
“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.”
And they’re silenced immediately.
“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.”
Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”
“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?”
“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.”
“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.”
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.
All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.
He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold.
He doesn't like it one bit.
Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area.
Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner.
A spark.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself.
What the hell was that?
He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.
Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.
The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.
“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”
The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”
“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.
The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.”
That scared the shit out of him.
The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape.
What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him.
He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.
Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal.
“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”
The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.
Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.
With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it.
Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.
“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that
Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.
His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.
It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it.
No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero.
He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.
And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same.
His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you.
In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.
The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.
When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.
The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits.
“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.
“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.
What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago.
“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”
“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.
“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“
You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.”
To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch.
One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line.
“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.
Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”
“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.
“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.”
“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.
Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”
His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”
The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”
Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”
“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.”
Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.
“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.
“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.
“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.”
Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”
“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.”
“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.
“Gross.”
He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.
He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right?
Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM.
Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?
Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.
The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes?
Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again.
The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark.
He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor.
He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.
It’s attracted to the power plant.
Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims.
Bam.
He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed.
Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.
This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.
With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity.
The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.
Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle.
It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.
Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory.
All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest.
Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.
He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds.
He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.
The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.
But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him.
He’s most definitely not coming to school like this.
While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop.
Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.
The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about.
Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.
Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it.
The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy.
“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.
“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?”
You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.”
Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?”
He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.
“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.
What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.”
“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?
He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”
Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.
Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.
Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?”
The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision.
“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.
Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task.
The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.
Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more.
Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?”
He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down.
And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”
Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.”
Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?”
He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.
“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.
Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.
He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish.
There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.
The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.
You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.
“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.
“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.
All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break.
Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.
-
Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.
“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.
“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”
“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading.
“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”
You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”
Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.
RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM
☐ talk to ____ regularly
☐ don't make it awkward
☐ be..cute?
The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.
He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?”
You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-”
“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago.
Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.
“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice.
So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.”
The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.
“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.
“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.
NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.
Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight.
Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.
For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.
There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.
You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse.
Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.
Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.
The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.
Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.
A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.
“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.”
Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.
The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.
Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot.
He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.
From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.
He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.
You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.
You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist.
Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him.
You. He still needs to save you.
With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.
Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended.
Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement.
He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.
Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.
In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.
Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop.
“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”
You’d be a fool to do anything but wait.
Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go.
To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.
He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.
Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion.
A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.
“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.”
Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.”
Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.”
“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.”
Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.”
He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?”
“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you.
Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?”
He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.”
Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?”
“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.”
Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit.
So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do.
“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.
You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?”
Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.”
There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.
“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?”
You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting.
Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.
“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.”
“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear.
“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.
Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.
‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.
Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.
The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.
What. The. Fuck.
Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities.
Until now.
“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.”
His blood runs cold.
“You think this…why?”
You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.”
Riki was going to strangle his best friend.
“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”
He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too.
“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.
Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.
“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?”
“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms.
You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.
“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?”
“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?”
“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki.
You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.
He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.”
As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate.
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart.
“Goodnight, Spiderman.”
—-
Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.
Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.
The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue.
Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.
The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something.
Nothing.
One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news.
He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.
Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.
Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something.
There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.
The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.
-
A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two.
Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant.
A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.
Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night.
He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring.
“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.
“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.
With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away.
Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive.
“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.
Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.
The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment.
“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.
And the solution hits him. Literally.
When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge.
Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him.
“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan.
Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.
He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th
While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt.
Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down.
Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard.
All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.
The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.
Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead.
“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!”
Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks.
“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?”
Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.
The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.
The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more.
The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop.
“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”
“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.”
Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions.
“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.
“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.”
Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.
Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body.
You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?
“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach.
Do not say it’s true.
“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass.
“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.
“Holy shit.”
There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony.
“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”
You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.
Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.
The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?”
Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.
He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers.
Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.
“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing.
“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?”
The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint.
“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.
“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet.
You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”
“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”
“I really want to ask you to prom.”
You simply stare at him, surprised.
“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”
Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.”
You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.
“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?”
“Jake.”
“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze.
“For what?”
“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.
“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”
You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”
“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.
“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.
“How’d Jake find out?”
Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”
“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.”
“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head.
“Not stupid. Keep going.”
“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.”
You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.
“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.
The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt.
Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things.
There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.
You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.
It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”
“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod.
You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.”
You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore.
“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.”
MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE.
He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest.
Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.
But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug.
Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.
“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.
He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.”
NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.
But first, he has to try something out.
He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago).
“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand.
He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised.
The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.
When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze.
“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!”
Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.”
“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”
“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.”
You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.
“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.
“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.
“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting.
“I thought girls liked this.”
You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose.
Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?”
Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.
You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.
“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.”
“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.
“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man.
Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.
“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration.
“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.
You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.”
REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!
RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)
꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith
#k-labels#k-films#kflixnet#enhypen#ni ki fluff#niki smau#ni ki scenarios#riki scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen imagines#enhypen angst#riki#enhypen fic#ni ki x reader#riki texts#niki texts#ni ki texts#riki smau#nishimura riki x reader#enhypen scenarios#nishimura riki#niki fluff#ni ki x you#niki x reader#niki x you#riki reactions#niki scenarios#enhypen reactions#riki x reader#riki nishimura
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[BREAKFAST IN BED!]
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+
𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
The season was over. Finally.
Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.
Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.
And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.
Was that too much to ask for?
It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.
Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.
But that was life. And that was then.
Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.
Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.
His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.
Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.
And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.
You were luckier than you could ever imagine.
"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.
You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.
"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.
Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.
He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.
He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.
Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.
"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."
You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.
Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."
"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.
"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.
In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.
But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.
"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."
Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.
Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.
This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being
Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.
His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.
Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.
"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.
"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.
You were driving him crazy.
Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.
Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.
"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.
You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.
Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."
You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.
You were positively going to lose your mind.
His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."
A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.
"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.
He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.
You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.
Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.
Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.
You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.
Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.
Oh god.
"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.
Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.
The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.
Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.
It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.
Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.
Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.
"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.
His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.
Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.
"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.
You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."
"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."
You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.
The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.
You cried.
You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.
It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.
Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.
Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.
And it absolutely drove him crazy.
Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.
Oh my god.
Lando had broken you with his tongue.
You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.
Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"
His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.
"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.
You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"
Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.
"Oh."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#mickyschumacher#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#f1 smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris oneshot#lando x reader
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THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4
summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!
listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨
word count : 616
“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”
He spots me then.
I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.
I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.
Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”
“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”
“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.
“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”
“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”
I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.
“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.
“No… sorry.”
At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”
I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.
“I’m Lando! By the way!”
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.
I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”
He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”
He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?
I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”
“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.
“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”
He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.
“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”
His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”
His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”
“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.
He knows my name.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#lando imagine
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Beautiful Ghost-DC x DP prompt
Part of the Accidental Ghost Courting AU 》 HERE
We finally get Tim's perspective on Danny
If there is one thing everyone on campus knows it's that Danny Nightingale is hot. Not in the stereotypical supermodel or Hollywood way. He was so attractive it was scary like he dropped out of a fairy tale.
Tim first saw Danny after whispers started going around. He spotted Danny in the library walking towards the observatory on the top floor.
At first glance, you'd call him a goth and there was no shortage of people who'd love to date one. It's probably why no one shuts up about him. But Tim could tell this wasn't the corporate punk type goth that he saw Damian scrolling through on his phone. Tim was quick to tease Damian and stop what would inevitably become a phase.
No, Danny had a clear style. Classic gothic...but also not. It's hard to explain. His clothes looked handmade, straight out of the 1800s. Did he thrift or make them himself? He was an astronomy major right? Or was is engineering?
Danny looked almost ethereal. Tall, lean, and almost glowing skin. It wasn't until later that Tim would be close enough to see the way his skin sort of glittered in low light.
People parted to not obstruct Danny's path as he went toward the observatory.
Everyone knew that Danny was off limits, too cowardly to get the courage to ask him out and risk rejection. So Danny remained unreachable.
Tim paid it no mind. He acknowledged that Danny was good-looking but there wasn't much else that got his attention. Danny didn't pay attention to others.
But Tim couldn't help but notice that Danny was always alone in his own little world. There was a hint of longing in him. Tim might have overheard a few things.
Danny would usually be in the library reading eclectic materials, playing with tarot cards, and studying star charts. Other days he was in the greenhouse tending to a little corner of plants he was growing. He seemed bored. He looked like he'd rather be somewhere else.
Tim might have done some research. Just scrolling through Danny's social media. Pictures of friends and graveyards. Most of the landscape photos were taken after his arrival in Gotham. Tim gathered that Danny was alone out here and far from home. He could fit in easily around here but simply chose not to.
It wasn't until that faithful day when Danny offered him a bundle of red carnations and a cup of Death Wish coffee.
"You looked like you need this." He said smiling.
And wow...that smile. Tim didn't think he'd ever see a smile like that. It was a sort of lopsided smile, a bit clumsy but sweet. Danny had elongated canines. Were they fake or was it a medical condition?
Tim didn't know how to respond to Danny's offer but he wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee.
Over the next few weeks, Tim found himself on campus more often and hanging around Danny. Danny tended to be very generous. Always gave things to Tim, most of which he made himself. That is what made it all feel genuine. On cold days Danny always had a hot cup of coffee or tea. When it was sunny he had something sweet freshly baked. When it rained he had flowers to brighten the room. When it was foggy he wanted to go find something fun to do. Danny also worked at the flower shop nearby which was said to be haunted by the old owners.
Rumors spread more and more that Danny wasn't human, like some kind of fae that took human form. Was there a chance it was true? Yes. Does that mean that Tim was going to test that?
Yes.
So Tim just wanted to test that theory and gave Danny a bracelet that looked similar to the ones he usually had. It just so happened to be made of Iron. Tim felt bad about it (kinda) but it was just genuine curiosity.
But no Danny wasn't a fae. He was incredibly happy to get a gift though so no harm done.
Another thing Tim noticed was Danny's eyes. They weren't blue like he thought. Danny had central heterochromia. He had a ring of bright green near his iris surrounded by icy blue. Not that Tim was staring at his eyes or anything, just that no one ever mentions that part when describing Danny. It's pretty notable you know. More people should know that.
...
.....
It's normal to think that.
Anyways Tim and Danny meet up when they can. Danny likes visiting graveyards and abandoned churches. Not that he doesn't like the movies or arcades because he loves that stuff. But one time after a late class he dragged Tim with him on a scenic drive out of the city to this spot he found. It was this massive cliff just far enough from the city that you could see the stars.
Tim never really gave much thought to the stars. He's seen them thousands of times especially being carried around by Kon or on the Watchtower. But right then watching Danny fiddle with his telescope babbling on about the planets and far-off galaxies, the stars felt new and wondrous.
Was this what it felt like to be normal? Just a college kid going on a spontaneous road trip with a friend, not thinking about patrols or duties.
He liked it.
Danny had a way of making him forget about the rest of the world. Someone not linked to heroes and assassins. A friend, a weird one but one he didn't have to be Robin with. He was just Tim to Danny. Not Tim Wayne, not Tim Drake, just Tim.
Because of that, he wanted to keep Danny as far from his family as possible. They already think they were dating and he'd be damned if they scared Danny away. This didn't stop them from investigating Danny and that brat wont stop spouting his opinion.
"I don't know what he sees in you. Aside from appearance, there isn't much to like." Damian grumbled.
"He must be really vain then because Tim doesn't deserve this kid." Jason responded.
"But if he even thinks about hurting Drake-"
"Yeah, we bury him."
Tim has chosen to ignore everything they say.
The last issue is Phantom.
Tim doesn't like Phantom.
The spirit had been hanging around Gotham for a while now. He lingered around the corners of the city and if he felt like it he'd interfere. In his own words, Phantom said that he dealt with the dead, not the living. Tim did some research and it's said Phantom showed up near the dying or dead as a sort of shepherd to souls. He made the transition easier for them.
So when Phantom was seem lingering around Danny he couldn't accept it. He'd be damned if he let some spooky bastard take Danny. He can't have him.
So Tim decided to invite Danny to stay with him for a few days. But a few day became a week became two weeks. Don't judge. This was just so Tim could look out for Phantom and prevent Danny from dying. It hasn't been working so far since Phantom hasn't been seen nearby.
But Tim did run into him.
"Why are you stalking Danny Nightingale?" Tim damanded.
Phantom circled overhead his spectral tail curling. His translucent body phasing in and out of the visible light spectrum.
"Stalking? I don't know what you're talking about. I don't care about chasing the living. But let's say Nightingale is an exception. He's special. But what does he have to do with you?" Phantom eyes Tim suspiciously before diving down floated inches away from Tim face. "Hmmm, I always did think you were the cutest Robin. I was right. Too bad I've got my eyes on someone else now."
And like that he dissappeared.
Now Tim was even more anxious. Phantom was definitely after Danny most likely dead or alive. If something happened to Danny he didn't know what he'd do. Its not safe out there with Phantom hanging around.
Danny was still awake when Tim returned home. He was watching some detective drama he had refused to watch with Tim because he kept guessing the plot during the first few minutes. Which was fair.
"You were out late again. Would it kill you to get some sleep now and then?" Danny sighed stretching.
Tim wanted to say "Actually I think it would. Lets not test it" and banter like always. Maybe even relax and let Danny talk about where show was on.
But Tim couldn't. Not when everything felt so surreal. Danny was just oblivious to the dangerous spirit trying to take his soul and Tim couldn't protect him.
Tim couldn't believe he was thinking this but what if Danny wanted to be with Phantom? Then what?
Tim knew that his emotions were his greatest weakness. When he did control them he does a lot of self-destructive things and he ends up hurting people especially when he's hurt.
He hugged Danny, burying his face in his shoulder.
"Danny can you promise me...that you'll stay here." He didn't care if Danny wanted to be with Phantom just as long as he doesn't leave this world and stop being his light.
The thought of not seeing Danny every day killed him. No more nagging him to eat and drink. No more star gazing. No more TV marathons. No more being dragged to spontaneous trips to the crafts stores. No more hearing the insane conversations with his friends. No more waking up on the couch with a pair of blue-green eyes looking up at him. No more Danny.
Tim felt like his heart was stopping and his stomach dropped.
Danny hugged him back putting a soothing hand on the back of Tim's neck. It was cool to the touch.
"Of course, I'll stay." Danny laughed as if the very notion he'd leave was ridiculous.
Tim's brain seemed to twist in on itself as the cascade of emotions overflowed. That laugh seemed to play over and over in his head echoing non-stop. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Dread, uncertainty, hope, and affection all blended.
Oh no..
Tim was in love.
(This got way too long. I'm not really good a romance as you can tell but I'm trying. Anyway this is a Danny fell first but Tim fell harder situation.)
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#tim x danny#red robin#tim drake#dead tired#brain dead#braindead#deadtired
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gravity / ln
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
where your life with him is just beginning.
yes! yes! i have insane brainrot for lando norris! yes! this is meant as a single 'oneshot' of sorts, but i am open to taking requests of this so called 'universe.' reader here is a stem major, particularly physics (shoutout to the stem students!) which helps perfect the progression. also was inspired by interstellar.
wc: 15.2k woops!
warnings: smut! -- MINORS DNI!!, porn with a lot of plot! angst, drinking, language, friends to lovers, corruption kink (minor), choking, soft!top lando.
it was all consuming; he was, at least, with his curly hair, upturned eyes, smile that brightened the entire room. utterly irresistible, any woman could agree. they’d jump his bones the second he gave them a lingering glance, a playful wink. but that’s all it ever was with those girls— glances, observations. but you, on the contrary, were a fixation. an obsession, one might call it— actually, someone has before. but you ignored it and let it fly over your whimsical head. how could a man like lando norris ever glance in your direction like he did those models, influencers?
you were always just his friend. his best one, yours too you’d admit only in the solace of your lonesome in the hours of the evening. you met him when you were studying abroad in london at the ripe age of nineteen. you were there on a research term for a professor at your university, though it was much far north of london's borders. still, the girlfriends you managed to make would insist on your attendance to the night club scene on the town.
who were you to deny any pleasantries? a hardworking student. a student with a vision, a dream to be more than what society compressed women to be. you’d rather be out to the stake like a medieval witch than become a loftily homemaker. while it was some of your friends desires, yours stretched far beyond the horizon of which any life was palpable.
a nerd in short terms.
you studied physics. with as much fun as your girlfriends had in the club, you found it in the quiet evenings if your research. you’ve devoted a great deal of time for your studies, but hey— every girl lets go here and there.
the one time you did, you met him. in the late evening hours of the bustling club, drink in your hand, short dress sticking to your sweaty skin, he scared your close friend, laurel.
“boo,” he had said with a low tone, grabbing the girl with a blonde bob by the shoulders. she shrieked despite the loud atmosphere and spun around, slapping him on the chest.
“lando!” she exclaimed, which had your attention drawn upward from the half bitten olive in your martini. he was taller than her, than you, muscularity built with a low taper cut of chestnut hair. he was freckled, and the first thing you noticed about him was the way that his eyes smiled.
they curved up at the edges and you could feel the warmth of the sun drip in from the rooftop. even though it was past midnight at this point.
“i didn’t know you were coming,” laurel breathed at an awkward pace then turned to face you. she outreached her hand for you to take with your free one. you did, feeling warm from the alcohol that you had downed from the night.
“lando, this is my bestie from school,” she introduced you by name, to which you gave a small, dramatic courtesy towards the brit. his eyes caught on your act, gleaming with something you could even see in the yellow hued lights of the club. “this is lando norris, rookie of…what team again?”
you glanced from laurel to lando, brows raised. he hesitated for a moment, gracing you with a lopsided smile that, in time, you’d come to adore.
“mclaren. formula one racing.” he answered, taking a hand to brace the back of his neck. he felt the need to clarify for you, which you took in earnest. he earned a light ahh in your reaction.
you were impressed, to say the least. you hadn’t ever met a formula one driver in the flesh, nor you could say you were a devoting fan. of course you knew what it was, watched it on sundays when your uni friends would turn it on, but that was it. as smart as you were, it seemed that someone knew more about something than you did. you reeled.
“and you like it?” you said after a beat, swirling the toothpick inside the olive around your finger. lando seemed to contemplate your words, taken back by such a question. without a doubt he liked racing, otherwise he wouldn’t do it. but that’s not what she was asking, was she? it weighed on him more as his mind unraveled the layers to such a question, but he ended on a simple answer:
“i don’t know if i could love anything more.” a jest, playful and lightheaded when it came from him.
but how the whims would be tested over the years.
────────────
a year later
“a whole season, lando?” you asked him, hands drawn out before you to iterate the sincerity of what he was asking.
a season of going to races with him.
you were graduating within the next two semesters. twenty two now, whereas he was twenty three. but you had qualified to graduate early, as your intent was to do as such, but the tempting leave of absence form that sat in your lap tempted you even further.
you sat in his monaco flat, a frequent place you visited or stayed until you recently gained residency in monte carlo. it was efficient enough for what you needed to do for work— france around the corner, italy to the west. the best physicians rallied in europe, and staying in the isolated united kingdom was not the best option for you. you caved at his months of pleading to move to monaco.
your legs crossed as you glanced from his pacing, anxious position. your fingers tapped incessantly at the piece of paper before you, pre-addressed envelope sitting on the coffee table.
“why not?” he questioned, putting his hands up in defense, stopping before you. he looked down at you, his heart thundering in his chest. say yes he wanted to plead. his knees felt weak. wobbly as your eyes looked back at him, determined. he loved that look. it drove him wild, enchanted by how the cogs of your brain turned.
you sighed, looking off to the side out the floor to ceiling window. “how would i even pay for all—“
“you wouldn’t drop a pound.”
you were taken back. you could never expect him to pay for that. you knew he was well off, given his hefty contract, but you are friends. friends don’t use each other for money.
“lando—“ you began to shake your head.
“no, no, don’t do that.” he stopped you, earning a glare from you. he shivered, relishing in how vindictive you could be. he hasn’t seen it many times untamed, but the fantasy had his blood roaring. “if money wasn’t a problem, would you come?”
“well—“ you attempted to come up with a defense, but nothing formed. you were at a loss of words. “what would i even wear?”
it was february when you touched down in jeddah. lando has instructed you to fly on the jet with him, side by side for the entire eight hour journey.
you were taken back by the sudden personal touches and longing looks from him. something has changed. over the past year he’s had a few girlfriends, none of them serious so he’s told you, and you believed him. your blind affliction to nod your head and whisper okay was the only way you found that you could truly protect yourself. ignorance is bliss, or whatever the poets say.
with your legs crossed the entire flight and eyes peering from the window, you never once felt lando’s eyes drilling into your face. though he was entirely enamored by your bravery, your understanding how important this was to him.
you may be the only one to truly understand his passion. as he began to understand yours.
on your lap was a research journal translated from german. your professor had sent it over to you for your leave of absence, along with ideas for your masters thesis. she was a kind woman and you appreciated all the work she has done to support you. especially translate it from german.
you tended when you felt lando spread his legs, knee bumping into your calf. but you didn’t shy away.
“what’re you reading?”
“do you really want to know?”
he didn’t hesitate. “why wouldn’t i?”
your chest tightened at his soft tone. you’d never get used to that, would you? when you were in such close proximity with him, he would become so gentle, caring. not that he wasn’t in public spaces but… what was the word you were looking for?
intimate
“after your season i fly to germany to finalize my thesis. i’m still struggling on a topic, but…” you flip back a few pages in the book which was messily annotated and sticky-noted. you stopped on the event horizon section. “this one caught my eye. always fascinated me.”
lando scanned the page. it wasn’t the words he was reading, but the marks you left behind. messily written notes in the margins, smeared ink, bright orange notes with rather… rushed drawings of a black hole, surrounded by streams of… “what is it?”
your eyes glimmered. lando wanted to take a picture of you then, turning from your corner of the window and towards him. your palms smacked the page as you excitedly explained the phenomenon in far too great detail for lando to really pay attention, but he was so engrossed in your intellect and pure passion that slipped past your lips. your sweet, honeyed lips—
“lando?”
“hmm?”
“what will it be like?”
“what?”
“all of it.” your fingers tended around the journal creasing the pages unbeknownst to you.
lando reached over, not thinking rationally, and grabbed your hands. they were colder than his. he was always warm. so warm. a light gasp left your lips when you looked up at him.
“i’ll give you some pointers. ready?”
you nodded.
────────────
he kept a hand on you at all times. unhindered by any sudden movement, feigning to latch at the small divot of your back. you’d grow used to its presence as you scaled the tarmac, hopped into the passenger seat of the mclaren— opened by him— and glanced down at how his hand made claim to the skin of your thigh the entire drive.
he’s stressed. you’d tell yourself, not thinking anything more of it. because what else could it be?
────────────
the entire time you kept modesty in mind. you had pestered lando about your choice of attire, thinking specifically about the nature of your outfits.
“i don’t want to be disrespectful.” you said sternly, looking between the stylist lando paid to dress you, and him. it was your debut at lando’s side and you were determined to make the right choice. you were never usually like this— cold and bullheaded, but he was growing to…enjoy it more than he should.
you stood there tapping your foot with your arms crossed. you shrugged towards the outfits she provided you. you shook your head at a few and decided to ask.
“what about orange?”
orange.
lando thought about falling to his knees for you right then and there. to see you sporting his team colors for him was a dream that he would never want to wake from.
the stylist nodded, raking through the options. there was one that was made of silk, a dress that covered you to the ankles, to the forearms. an abaya it was called. if you were going to be representing lando, which he mentioned on the plane, then you were going to do it right.
and you’ll be damned before you’re ever wrong.
────────────
you certainly underestimated the crowds.
with the season opening, you and lando had been swarmed upon your arrival. he warned you of this, but to which the gravity of it you greatly underestimated.
your fists bawled at the material of the dress, clenching with unspoken anxiety. you were never much of a public person, but you’d be willing to find out if that were true or not today.
“hey,” lando nudged your shoulder. you glanced at him with a light smile. “you got this.”
that comfort was enough alone to let you be pulled from the car. lando opened the door for you. immediately swarmed by flashing cameras and the devilish heat of the middle eastern sun.
questions were thrown at him about you, who you were, and you’d let him do all the talking.
you straightened your posture, gripped the handbag tightly, and kept a soft smile to your features.
lando would stop on occasion to sign some memorabilia, which was a perfect time for you to observe. he was kind with the people who were such loyal fans to him. dressed in the mclaren jerseys, hats, he’d sign anything that was thrown his way. even some arms were thrown in his direction.
it was endearing for you. watching him thrive in his element. your heart warmed at the sight. a new found affection blossoming in the pit of your stomach.
a thump was heard on the ground before you. you turned, glancing back at lando who kept moving forward. it was a mclaren hat dropped by a teenage girl wrapped in a similar garment to yourself. you traipsed over, crouching down to pick it up, and hand it back to her.
“here,” you offered in a sweet tone. your smile was brighter. the girl was clearly elated, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“are you and lando dating?” came a question from the girl beside her. she was earned a slap to the shoulder, being called rude.
you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “no, no, friends from home is all.”
you saw a phone held up, recording the interaction. but it didn’t scare you. why would it?
“do you want to wrap your hijab? it’ll fly loose in the wind…” the girl asked nervously, placing the mclaren hat on her covered head. you were taken back for a moment, glancing down at the rather lazy job of the stylist, and took intent note that it was rather windy today. it would be hard for you to maintain it by yourself.
“you would do that for me?” you took a step closer to the barricade, which had lando snapping his head over his shoulder to wonder where you went.
he ogled, watching as a young girl began tying the ends of the scarf in an intricate, skilled manner around your collarbones, your neck. his eyes were caught on the smile you graced, the laugh that left your lips. it was such a delicious sound, intoxicating, one that he wished to drown in. if that were his fate, he’d gladly accept it.
his staring was noticed, fans beginning to call his name louder. he swallowed, hands flexing at his side before he signed a few more hats and posters.
────────────
what you didn’t expect was the way that lando looked in his fire guard suit. the black emblems that contrasted his tan skin, bolstered the tone of his muscles. there was barely anything left up for the imagination as you brought the tip of your finger to your mouth, crossing your legs on the orange couch. you couldn’t seem to sit still.
“you alright?” he asked out of concern, but you didn’t miss the slight curve of his mouth. he knew what you were thinking. you were always so responsive to him, so good, even when there were no words transpired.
“peachy!” you confirmed, sitting back against the couch, your leg bouncing as you tried not to let your eyes meddle on the muscles of his neck, the veins in his hands, the bracelets that dangled from his wrists.
he gave you a look of doubt before his teammate walked in with a girl at his side. oscar, you remembered. you had met before briefly at a press conference you attended in monaco. the girl beside him was his girlfriend— she was entirely too sweet and studied a similar focus as you did.
the two mclaren drivers patted each other on the back, while the woman approached you. she sat beside you with a tick of picking at her fingernails.
your hand found its way on top of hers. “first time, too?”
she nodded and introduced herself formally. you did the same. you laced your fingers with hers, stopping the habit from ruining her lovely nailbeds.
lando watched the interaction from over oscar’s shoulder, a cheeky smile etching onto his face. oscar caught wind of his inattention, and glanced over his own shoulder briefly.
he turned back to lando with a toothy grin. “i’ve been trying to get her to stop that habit.”
because within the matter of minutes you were both talking, not once did his girlfriend raise her fingers to her mouth.
────────────
you pulled and fixed at the collar of his race suit. lando sucked in a low, tight breath. you missed the sound, focused on making sure he looks presentable for the national anthem. it would be any minute he’d climb into the car to do a practice lap.
when you were satisfied with the result, you dusted off the top of his head and was going to let your hand fall to your side. but there was a stain of soot on his chin.
without thinking twice, you grabbed his chin between your fingers. his eyes went wide at the action. his fists clenched at his side, body rigid with the feeling of your unexpected touch.
you licked your thumb before wiping it away, his stubble rough against your fingers. his head crooned visibly into the shape of your hand. the warmth from his cheek getting slightly hotter. heat rushed to your own face, flushing you in your orange dress.
whatever moment was transpiring between the two of you, you didn’t want it to end. neither did he. his breathing softened, but his heart was pounding. your thumb swirled over his cheek once before you gripped him tighter.
“you got this, lan.”
there was the first time you graced him with that nickname. the rest was history for him, knowing that he was a dead man walking at your side. if you weren’t going to be his, he would ruin you. such sickening thoughts had him mulling over what you meant to him. you made time out of your busy schedule for him, and so did he. you were there to answer his calls. he was there to be at your beckon and call. he would wreck his entire career if it meant your undivided attention.
he would pivot, skid, take more reckless actions on the track if it meant having your hands on him. your eyes. your love. he wanted it all with you, he learned, from that first weekend in jeddah. with your communally wrapped headscarf, caring nature, your determination… he wanted it to be his. he wanted you to flourish with him. he wanted to be the reason you blossom.
with your unwavering strength at his side, he could conquer the world. fuck the championship, he wanted it all to be with you. maddening thoughts would consume him day and night after that first weekend, knowing there was only more to come throughout the season. he could only imagine how these months would fare, but he didn’t bide into fantasies. he would expect the unexpected and let you consume him entirely.
────────────
miami was everything you thought it to be. bustling with life, parties, music. it was a stark contrast to what your life at university looked like— though you didn’t mind the occasional outing, of course, especially when lando was at your side.
he was a beam of light crafted by the gods of the sun, brightening every room he stepped in. he was utterly magnetic, drawing others around him, letting them have a joyous laugh. it made you giddy, proud, that he could hold himself so well in the mediocrity of the crowds. while you etched yourself at his side, clamoring for his shadow, he held you tightly at every opportunity.
his hand at your back, clutching for dear life. warm and soothing, you’d lean into him, clutching the hem of his black mclaren shirt.
it had been a friday night. his free practices had been stellar as you watched eagerly from the mclaren paddock. you’d earned a status of earning a headset, your consistent attendance rivaling tidal waves in the media. you always told yourself not to look, not to peek, but you couldn’t help it.
accounts were created in your honor. in your fan name. the mclaren fans loved you, and you loved them. the video of your first appearance at the paddock had gone viral within the community. your sensibility for adhering to culture norms gained you rapport. though you didn’t know why— why wouldn’t you dress appropriately? it grudged you how low the media could stoop, but you were honored nonetheless to gain such positive attention.
of course there were the negatives. some were born to hate and you could live with that. many thought you were using lando for his money, just another stupid girl who didn’t deserve to be at these races. you kept yourself modest from the media with a private account, similar to charles girlfriend, and found that it was better to remain a mystery to those who weren’t a part of your life. you owed them nothing.
though you never breathed these negatives to lando. he would be furious and absolutely say something in public. the last thing you wanted was for him to fight your own battles, yet you thought this nothing to be more of a playground spat. you could handle it; lando doesn’t call you sting for no reason.
on the bright side, you had a steady, growing relationship with oscar’s girlfriend, and even considered each other to be best friends.
though lando would disagree ardently, reminding you that he was always first, no matter the circumstance. he’d whine like a child and pout. how could you resist that face? even when you would playfully hold up four fingers and raise your brows, his number four, contrary to one, he’d scoff and laugh, your ability to see through him was astonishing.
at the club tonight there were bottles and bottles of champagne being opened and passed around in the driver's honor. in your time there you had grown close to all drivers, except a few give or take. but while you carved relationships with the boys, it was the women you sought refuge in.
charles' girlfriend, a tanned brunette sweetheart, would bake for you. in return you would host wine nights with the other women. you’d become accompanied with her new furry companion, little leo leclerc, and you fell in love with him instantly. his little licks of appreciation, his tiny wagging tail. gosh, you loved the pup.
carlos’ partner, rebecca, had intimidated you at the beginning. she was tall, fierce, blue eyes unwavering with confidence as she spoke of deep experience throughout her years in the paddock. it took her longer to adjust to your presence, feeling doubtful of your friendship with the british driver, but changed her mind when she saw you dehumidifying lando’s race suit that hung in the tents in japan’s humid weather.
no one stood around you whilst you did that. no one asked you to. you did it because it was ruthlessly hot and you didn’t want lando to contract a heatstroke.
lily held a place in your heart that none of these girls could truly replace. she was your rock from the first race. you both learned together, wrought each other of the nail biting habits, and laughed amongst the radio calls between the pair of drivers.
the rap music thundered the floor you stood on. heels tall and encompassing, you’d admit plainly you got used to the treatment lando awarded you. nothing but the best, he told you one evening under the moonlight. the words were imprinted in your mind.
alexandra, charles’ sweetheart, called your name.
lando’s grip tensed at your back. you could feel it. you glanced at him, then to alexandra.
“come dance~!” she swayed, floreale spritz in her hand. she egged you forward with her hand, and you loosened yourself from lando’s side.
you had no obligation to stay by him. it’s not like you were dating.
though many would disagree with that.
you mumbled something incomprehensible to lando. he bent his head down towards your mouth, angling his ear to hear your voice.
“will i see you on the dance floor tonight, mr. norris?” you teased, body warm from the cocktail you downed. his head turned, a signature smirk daunting his face.
“want me to?” he said, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. you shivered, his breath hot and wet as it graced the curves of your cheeks.
“only if his highness can make time,” you looked up at him through your weary, drunken eyes. something shifted, then, as you stared up at his green eyes. it was dark in the club, but not as dark as his stare. it intimidated you, but not nearly as much as it intrigued you.
“always make time for you baby,” he said, tone playful and airy but it was more than that for you. baby. he was just drunk, wasn’t he? he didn’t know what he was talking about. didn’t know he was talking to you. don’t let it get to your head. “just tell me when. think charles is dying to dance.”
you looked over your shoulder to see charles being teased by sweet alexandra as she shook her head, pointing at you. this was a girls dance, that told you.
before you turned, your hand cupped lando’s neck. he grumbled; you felt it through your palm. it was a nonverbal okay. you spun, threading yourself out of lando’s grasp. he let his hand linger for as long as he could before you slipped away, the imprint of his hand leaving you bare and cold.
it was quickly replaced by the rambunctious action on the dance floor. lit up with multicolored tiles, alexandra grabbed your hand and raised them above your heads, swaying to the heat of the music.
she was a natural beauty. no wonder charles fell in love with her.
you mimicked her dance moves to the best of your ability, hands sliding down your waist, through your scalp and over your head.
alexandra laughed and sashayed, giddy with fun and life. you did the same, unable to withstand her pulsing vibrato. you twirled her around you, she did the same. heads turned at your giggles, a few grunts of laughs had you looking over your shoulder.
the men of the club began to swarm. but in the moment, you didn’t care. let them gawk if they so wish. you felt untouchable.
your body slid parallel to alexandra, hips gyrating with an orbit of its own cosmic makeup. she grabbed onto your waist pulling you close when you rocked from side to side. your hands slid up your neck, down your chest— exposed from the evening gown you chose for the evening festivities.
the swarm intensified. one man attempted to twirl in front of you and alexandra, reaching to touch your forearm, but that’s where the line was drawn.
a body pushed itself between you and the man, alexandra standing up straight behind you. you recognized him instantly— signature smell bringing you an insatiable comfort that soothed your soul.
lando stood before you, face close to yours. he didn’t look pissed off…just…cocky?
before alexandra peeled away, you tilted your head back to her shoulder. she whispered, “needy, needy, needy…”
charles whisked her away for a dance. you didn’t get to respond. there wasn’t much for you to say though, watching how happy alexandra became when charles wrapped his arms around her. you felt sour. what was this feeling?
“you didn’t ask me,” he said into your ear, bringing your attention back to him. little to your knowledge he watched as you glanced between the happy ferrari couple, your face scrunching and hand coming to cover your lips.
you gave him a quizzical look.
“to dance!” he laughed, big and goofy. but there was an edge to his tone. was he peeved? did he think that you forgot about him?
“wanted you to come get me.” you slurred, lifting your arms to throw them over his muscled shoulders. when you were met with a hard surface. your eyes bulged at just how big he’s gotten this year alone. it made you want to touch him more, explore his body behind the polo mclaren shirt.
he raised his brows at you. “yeah?”
you pursed your lips together, letting your eyes flutter. “wanted you to hunt me down, little lando.”
his hands fell to your hips, fingertips functioning your skin. his demeanor shifted. your words igniting such a vicious flame inside his heart that burned for you and you alone. you were practically fucking edging him with your words. he wished it was the other way around. how insatiable your screams could be, the little noises you’d make.
you warmed even more when his head dove into your neck, lips parting so you could feel his tongue. “‘ve already got you.”
“do you?” you challenge. lando loves a good challenge.
he tucked you against his body, saying nothing more.
“dance with me.” it wasn’t a question. but a statement.
rolling your eyes, annoyed that he didn’t answer you, you pivoted on your heel. your back against his abdomen. you’d surely regret this on the morrow, but that was a problem for then. now, you only felt sturdy as you leaned your weight into lando. he supported you with ease.
dancing with him was always the easy part. he knew how to move his body, sway his hips, and lure any girl into the trap of his toned and tanned arms. but it was never you up until now. you’d always dance with the other drivers, girls, friends, but never him. it was something far too intimate for you, but you weren’t sure how lando thought about it.
but your friends noticed.
rebecca snuck up behind alexandra, carlos at her arm.
“look at him,” she gestured to lando who was entirely smitten with your let-loose expression. his hands were tight around your hips, legs spread to cage you against him. a fortress came with the name lando norris, and you were his queen.
“entirely in love.” rebecca concluded, and alexandra agreed with a nod.
“you should talk to her.” charles suggested, clearly feeling the pain his friend was going through, yearning at a distance.
“and say what, char?” alexandra asked her partner. “do you love him like he loves you?”
“is that a bad idea?” charles retorted and was met with silence between the two girls.
“we’ll figure something out.”
against your bodice, you felt the hard imprint of his dick blistering against his jeans. but it didn’t frighten you, not like his touches used to. your tour of the grand prix’s continued your closeness amongst one another, so…
your hips continued to sway, egged on by how lando ran his arms up your waist. it felt good–his hands, the tension woven into them. he felt good.
you turned around to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck. he looked euphoric beneath the dim lighting, rbg hues collectively making him look like he was glowing. he was, in truth, because of you. always because of you.
the two of you were making eye contact now. not just any, but you thought it was the most intense of your life. his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion you thought, and you suddenly felt guilty for keeping him out for so long. it’s not like you weren’t tired yourself.
you raised your head to his ears. “we should go.”
he narrowed his eyes, looking disappointed that the festivities were ending so soon. “you want to?”
your head nodded. one hand came down to brush against his hand, taking it between yours. “tired.”
the alcohol had taken its course through you. head pounding with a soft thump, you clasped your hand with lando’s. he returned the same force, swiping his thumb over your knuckles. he didn’t hesitate when you said you were tired. that was that for him. he had no other reason to stay.
“just wanna say bye to them,” you said, making your way over to rebecca and alexandra. they turned to you when you had lando in tow, entirely at your whims.
“we’re meeting tomorrow?” you confirmed. both girls nodded, a shared glance between them making you feel uneasy. alexandra told you to come to ferrari’s paddock. you’d nod your head before they both raised their brows at each other again, sheepish smiles flashing in your direction.
“what?” you prodded. they smiled at you again.
“nothing. we just can’t wait for tomorrow.” rebecca soothed your concerns, though it didn’t prevail as much as you hoped.
“that was weird.” lando said into your ear when you were close to the exit.
“right?” you were glad he noticed. he always noticed these things. too observant for his own good.
before you stepped foot out of the club, you turned back when you felt a thump. like a body had fallen to the ground. you stopped in your tracks.
the man that grabbed your arm laid face flat on the ground. lando looked down at you, looking smug. though he didn’t hit him.
“must’ve tripped.” he shrugged.
“should watch where he’s going.” you said, knowing that he didn’t just trip.
“guess so.”
────────────
saturday afternoon you were standing beside rebecca and alexandra when qualifying started. you wore a casually chic outfit. pants, a shirt, matching accessories. the stylist lando hired was getting to know you better. she understood what patterns you liked, your sense of aesthetic. it felt like a homecoming.
“so,” alexandra crossed her legs as all three of you sat on the couch. “what happened with lando last night?”
you were taken back. “what do you mean?”
they exchanged a look.
“you left together!” rebecca held up her hands as if pointing out the obvious. she was, really.
“so…?”
“so…! he went back to your room?” alexandra pleaded in wanting to know details. details of an extravagant night that didn’t happen.
“we share a hotel room,” they gasped. your hands thrown up in defense. “not like that! he gets two bedrooms for us.”
the girls settled, not looking entirely pleased.
“besides,” you sighed. “we’re friends. he doesn’t see me like that.”
so confident
alexandra and rebecca burst out in a laugh. “are you serious?” alexandra wondered.
you bristled, brow raised, wondering what she meant. “yes…?”
rebecca sighed your name, “have you seen the way he looks at you–?”
“or how he follows you around like a puppy.”
“how he pays for everything for you.”
“oh! how he scares any man off who tries to talk to you.”
your mind went numb. is this true? you thought lando was like that with everyone– kind, considerate, conscious. but as you sat there considering their words, just wondering how much truth was attached to them.
“are…are you sure?” you hesitated about finding the answer. what would that mean for you?
“absolutely.”
“one hundred percent.” they said at the same time. so this is what they wanted to talk about.
shit. maybe you were blind. it had gotten tempestuous over the course of these last few months. his growing attentiveness, his softness, his eager eyes whenever you’d make him coffee in the morning. no one makes it as good as you, he’d say.
would it be so bad that you…weren’t upset with it? you loved being friends with lando. he was always there to listen to you, support you. he cherished your time together. but what if there was a slim chance that you were wrong? that you were in over your head?
the last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed.
“what do i do?”
the ferrari girlfriends exchanged looks.
────────────
lando qualified in fifth for the miami grand prix. you thought he did absolutely wonderful. it was a close quali, he was pushing his car to its limits, but it wasn’t enough in the final stretch. a sigh left you as you were watching the tv, lily at your side.
oscar placed just below lando at sixth. “i don’t get it,” you said.
lily looked at you, confused.
“they should be faster. mathematically, i mean.”
lily was an engineering graduate. the question you brought forth had her perking up. you could see the cogs turning in her head.
“the physical body of the car offsets it.” she tapped her thumb against her elbow, arms crossed. she raised a hand to bite at her thumb, but you stopped her.
“you’re right. i don’t know–” you just had a weird feeling about this race. about lando. what rebecca and alexandra said…”lily.”
“yeah?”
“do…” you took a light breath in, suddenly intimidated by the answer you could receive. “do you think lando is in love with me?
a beat of silence.
“without a doubt.”
the mclaren plated with number four rolled into the garage. lando jumped out, taking off the neck guard, then his helmet. his hair had gotten longer this month. curls were starting to frame over his forehead. his stubble was more prominent. he was tanner. had his jawline always been that sharp?
he patted his engineer on the back but was looking for something. his eyes were darting all around the room, concern beginning to encompass his face. until he found you and lily, you, in the corner with her. you looked absolutely beautiful today. you had been worried about your outfit, wondering if the colors were too contrasting, or if they washed you out.
lando didn’t think there was any color that could wash out the beauty of your skin. you were too bright for that, always glowing.
when you saw him, you beamed. but it was different this time. the way he looks at you. how is he looking at me?
he took a few steps forward before you met him half way. your fingers found the zipper to his jumper, the action was new for you and lando. he welcomed it, looking down at you with a smile.
“you did amazing.” you breathed, undoing the zipper. though you couldn’t reach his eyes with your own. your hand shook against the zipper. he noticed, face falling with a slight frown.
“are you alright?”
“perfect,” you answered a bit too quickly. you still haven’t looked at him. you went to turn away, but he grabbed your elbow with a light grip.
“hey, look at me.” he pleaded, voice entirely too soft and gentle for your state right now. the way he follows you around like a puppy. but why did you blush? why did you fiddle with your fingers, bite your lip?
you looked up into those lovely pools of green. they shimmered so elegantly. your breath caught in your throat.
“what happened? did–”
“do you want dinner tonight?” you blurted, suddenly feeling stupid and small. you kept shrinking with each passing second that he didn’t answer. little did you know, he felt like the earth was flipped on his head. was he dreaming? did you ask to have dinner with him? surely you just meant with all of your friends…
“we always have dinner,” he said with a light laugh. you felt shivers creep up your arms. Goosebumps.
“me. just you and me.”
“oh.” oh? that’s all that lando could say? yes. that was it. his brain was short circuiting, unsure of what you were inferring. was there a deeper meaning to this? was he thinking too hard? you’ve gotten dinner just the two of you before. but not in a long time.
he was absolutely speechless as he looked at you, heart racing in his chest. It was just about to pop out when you opened your mouth to retract your statement and apologize.
“what’s the dress code?” he bit his lip to hold back his childlike grin.
“fancy.” you snipped back, feeling entirely too giddy that he seemed to come alive once again. you thought he would reject the idea, a part of you hoped that he did– silly, right? but you were terrified of confrontation. confrontation that rebecca and alexandra could be right.
“fancy?” he said, taking a step closer to you.
“did i stutter?” your tone was playful as you raised your brows. his tongue got caught on his teeth as he pursed his lips.
“wanted to make sure i get to see you in a dress.” the comment slipped from his lips easily, suavely. you blushed again. he noticed, surely. it was a rare occurrence that you blushed, even rarer for him to be the reason. what was this feeling in his chest? pride? pride that he could be the one to make you bashful. he felt like a king, wanting to conquer the skirts of your heart.
“maybe i’ll let you pick it out.”
lando’s face couldn’t light up any further. what did he do to award such treatment? such…such…god, he was entirely enamored with you. there was not a moment that went by that he didn’t wish you were his. he wanted this to be the norm. whatever it was. was it a date? was he supposed to hold your hand, kiss you? god, god, god, if he got to kiss you…
“deal.”
you were back in the hotel in an instant. the clock read 6pm, and you told lando no later than 7:30. both of you were in the kitchen filling up your bottles of water, cracking jokes between each other. when you were refreshed and relaxed, you spoke.
“still picking my dress?” you lead him to the door to your room, opening it for him. he followed behind you without a second thought. his eyes weary, glossy. like he was about to cry or something.
you stood at the doorway to the room. it was a chaotic mess of clothes, ruined sheets, open bottles of water. if lando noticed the state, he didn’t say anything. thank god.
but he did
lando was keen on noticing every detail of how you lived. your habits. it was the only way he could figure out how your mind worked– the spectacular thing that it was. he turned his head over his shoulder to you, gesturing towards the closet. you nodded.
he opened the door to the closet, dresses hanging by the dozens. damn, the stylist really put her money’s worth, didn’t she? rather his money, but if it meant for you to look jaw-droppingly stunning, who was he to complain?
the british driver ran his fingers through the numerous dresses before him. different combinations of cotton, silk, satin. they all felt different at his fingertips, yet you would always be sweet to him. but something else caught his attention–
a lace bodice piece, lingerie, that hung low from a hanger. he waited a beat. another. he pulled it with both his hands, showing you the hanger with a curious, raised brow.
you flushed.
never in your life did you run as fast as you just had. you tried to snatch the hanger from him, but he held it high above your head. he was laughing.
“lando!” you screeched, trying to climb up his body to reach it. it only incited a more intense laugh from him. he hummed.
“what’s this for, then? hmm?”
“i–” you stuttered, not really being able to know what to say. “she gave it to me!” the stylist.
his laugh quieted. “did she?”
“yes! if, you know, i dunno–” you rubbed your arms together anxiously. “if i ever met a guy. or something. it was stupid!”
you tried to get it back from him. he didn’t relent. you stomped your foot.
“lan, please…” you whispered, looking up at him with his unreadable stare. lando was always the type to know how he felt through his eyes, but now…you didn’t know what you were looking at.
“did you?”
“did i what?” you huffed, crossing your arms.
“meet a guy?”
you looked away, embarrassed. “no. not like i was trying, though.”
he relaxed, noticeably.
keeping all these guys away from you…
“it was just a fun idea. now will you pick something? else i’ll change my mind.” you threaten him. he hung the lingerie piece back up, surrendering instantly.
you headed to the on-suite bathroom, starting to get ready for your night out. though his tone echoed in your mind– “did you?” – he sounded…deflated. bested, by some indomitable force. you had a growing epiphany that the ferrari girls were right, and you were just too damn scared to admit that such a beautiful man could be interested in you of all people.
lando knocked on the door frame, watching as you finished up your look. you glanced at him through the mirror, then turning to see the dress he held. it was a long, black dress with lace flowers embroidered into it. it even had sleeves, lace ones, that could keep you warm with the miami breeze. it got rather chilly when the sun went down.
his choice was rather impressive. dare you say that you liked it. you grabbed the fabric piece from him, taking it off the hanger and leaving it on the counter. it was beautiful– must’ve cost a fucking fortune– breathtaking, though.
did you even deserve to wear something so elegant?
“gimme a sec,” you said, shooing him out of the bathroom before you changed. the dress slipped on with ease, much to your shock. but its downside–the zipper. you tried for about three seconds to get it up in the back, but you gave up.
you opened the door.
“lan?” you called for him, voice whimpering for his attention. he shifted from your bed, scrolling on his phone. he looked up immediately, eyes widening at the site before him. you were absolutely breathtaking. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you.
and you weren’t opposed, you thought, given your insolence towards any patience you had for the zipper. ‘test the waters,’ is what alexandra had said to you when you asked her for advice. ‘see how he reacts.’ rebecca followed up.
testing the waters
that’s what you were doing
you turned your back to him, shimmying out of the bathroom. “zip me?”
“yeah. yeah of course.” he launched to his feet. the dress was so low down the curve of your back. he wanted to trace your spine with his fingers. he was gentle with his touch, warm to the skin. you absentmindedly leaned into him, back arching.
he zipped the piece with ease, letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your shoulders. he felt them, quickly glancing at the side of your face to gauge your reaction. was he going crazy? your body was so receptive to him. it was addictive.
you pulled away. his hands felt empty, your back felt cold.
“thanks,” you smiled bashfully, unable to look him in the eyes. so fucking cute, he thought. “go get dressed, will you? i’m getting hungry.”
lando bolted from the room, and you managed a short laugh to yourself. while you were alone, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. you still felt entirely undeserving of such a gown.
you slipped on your shining black heels and had to adjust to their feeling. you were never good at walking in them, but this tour was a playground for you to learn how. you wanted to learn. you felt badass walking around like you had pointy claws.
in your hands was a matching leather clutch, simple and handheld. you waited patiently for lando, though it took him barely no time at all to look so put together.
you heard the clink of his loafers before he made himself known. turning around, you got a good look at the man you’ve gotten to know over these past few months.
it was chilling the way your body electrified. heat pooled in your lower belly, tingling with lust. he was dressed in a black dress shirt, few buttons undone revealing his chains, with a black jacket and taupe pants. his loafers were black with a silver buckle at the center of each shoe.
he was fiddling with the cufflinks at his jacket when he noticed you gawking at the shape of his abdomen, to his exposed neck. he didn’t want to say a word, afraid that it’d break your moment of admiration. that you would never look at him in such a…virtuous manner.
but he could never control his tongue.
“my eyes are up here, darling.” you snapped your head up, blushing. you crossed your legs over each other, leaning against the kitchen isle.
darling
you were caught red handed. there’s no point in pretending. your blood burned hot in your veins, the petname coming as second nature from his lips. you wanted to hear it again.
“didn’t know you cleaned up so well.” you pushed off of the isle with ease, waiting for him to join your side. “used to all the sweat and pajamas.”
he tsked at you, sheepish at your witty remarks. he hoped that no matter what it would always be like this; you and him, full of banter and fun.
“and you look…agreeable.” his smile was bright, mischievous. you pushed his arm away as he came to rest his hand on your lower back. “kidding!”
he lowered his voice and connected your eyes with his. “you’re breathtaking.”
and for the first time, you believed him.
────────────
the restaurant he chose was more than you could imagine. with high ceilings, a valet, lights in the shape of mystical orbs strung together on the walls. the floors were made of marble, the tiling on the sidings were matte black.
but lando didn’t give a fuck about the decorations. he was staring at you. you in your beautiful dress, carrying yourself so elegantly. you were born to fit into this life, whether or not you believe you deserve it. he would do anything to prove that you did. that you were worthy of every dime he spent.
“right this way, madam.” the waiter ushered you, but you didn’t move until you held out your hand for lando to grab. you’ve never asked him to sober.
he didn’t hesitate, never did, and latched onto your hand with a warming grip. you tugged him along through the restaurant while he kept getting distracted from you and how you walked so well in those high heeled shoes. he remembers a time when you couldn’t. and look at you now.
the waiter seated you at your two person table. lando pulled out the chair for you. you smiled appreciatively.
“aren’t you the gentleman.” you acknowledged his kindness, his face brightening as he seated himself with ease. he pulled into the table, leaning over it. you did the same, eager to meet his face with a bashful smile and your hands rubbing together.
lando looked nervous, but most of all happy. he is happy. to be sitting here with you, in your presence, and most of all, you wanted to be here with him. he didn’t miss how you leaned towards him, your legs crossing over one another as the point of one of your heels grazed his knee.
“so tell me,” he picked up his water glass, taking a sip. you watched the way his adam’s apple bobbed, the water running through him. you gulped. “why dinner?”
your hand touched the back of your neck. “‘m not allowed to want to spend time with you?”
“didn’t say that, did i?” he placed the glass down. “all this, i mean–” he gestured to your dress, his shirt, the restaurant. “you tryin’ to tell me something, darling?”
one of your fingers ran over your lip. darling. god, it sounded so good coming from him. it put you in such a state of heaven, feeling entirely weightless in his presence. you were staring at him speechless, before you heard a clatter of glass behind you. you were ripped from the safety of your trance.
“maybe,” you muttered, looking away for him briefly before attempting to switch the topic. “anyways-”
“what was that?” he said languidly, the softness of his tone unrecognizable. his eyes were blown wide, taking in every subtle movement that you made. you felt like you were under a microscope being analyzed by his prerogative. you felt stripped bare– but that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? no. no it wasn’t. the thought had you blushing. what weren’t you blushing about today?
“the race,” you continued on, disregarding his questioning. “are you nervous?”
he leaned back in his chair in defeat. fine, if she wanted to play it that way. he knew exactly what you said. but he wanted to hear it again. he will hear it again if it is the last thing he ever hears. you said “maybe” and didn’t brush him off with a scoff. his advances towards you had always been playful and light, but you never indulged him so…earnestly. he was caught off guard. in fact, he’s been caught off guard…a lot these past few days. something has shifted–
but what?
“am i supposed to be?” he wondered. you never really asked him those kinds of things. he always had your full reassurance.
“no. it’ll be just like any other, won’t it?” you felt like you were talking out of your fucking ass. you, all of a sudden, didn’t know how to talk to your best friend. it was gibberish, dry, god, how the fuck did he put up with you beforehand?
you began fidgeting with your fingers. his eyes latched on the movement.
“are you nervous?”
you swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look at him. you didn’t know he leaned in again until you felt his knees bump with yours. you jumped, but sunk into his light touch.
“i dunno– no? no, why would i be nervous?” you continued fidgeting. “it’s just…it’s all so dangerous, isn’t it? i’ve done the math before. at your speed if–”
“hey.” he cut you off, grabbing both your hands. “hey.” he breathed, looking at you with his widened, sparkling green eyes. your hands were sweaty against his, a byproduct of your anxiety, but he didn’t seem to care when he brought them to his lips, gracing you with a sweet kiss on the top of your palms.
your breath hitched in your throat.
“didn’t know that you worried about me so much.” he gave you a light laugh, his eyes crinkling with a smile. he bit his lip.
“what? of course i do,” you looked at him in disbelief, your hands still held in his. “i mean– why wouldn’t i? we’re friends, aren’t we?”
‘aren’t we?’ was branded into lando’s heart. he swallowed, pulling back and letting your hands fall to the table. “‘course we are.”
“you are both such a beautiful couple.” your waiter approached. you bristled, glanced quickly to lando, and an idea bloomed in your head. test the waters, the girls said. “what can i get for you lovebirds?”
lando sat up straight to correct him, but you stopped him. “you are too kind,” polite smile was gracing as you ran your fingers over the menu. “what are the specials?”
lando’s jaw dropped. he shut it before the flies flew in, but he wouldn’t forget this. no amount of alcohol or fantasies could recreate that feeling. this feeling. you glanced at him while you were ordering, puckering your lips.
god, he wanted to kiss you. Ruin you. make you his.
dinner went smoothly despite a perpetuous tension lingering over the pair of you. you’ve never fiddled so much before with anything; your dress, napkin, glass. but you were still there with him, and he always knew the perfect way to make you laugh. you wanted to kiss him that night, beneath the glimmer of the moon, but you couldn’t do it. you couldn’t muster the courage to break the barrier.
but you would, in time.
on your way out of the restaurant you were keen on grabbing his hand first. you felt him tense and he covered his mouth with his free hand, surely hiding a cheeky smile.
the cameras were flashing when you came down the steps. you’d be trending on every social media platform, especially with how bright your smile was, and how tightly you gripped his hand.
────────────
race mornings were always chaotic. but you somehow managed to make it to the track at the end of the f2 race with lando at your side. In the mclaren hospitality room, you straightened his collar of the fireguard, taking a deep inhale of his subtle cologne and natural scent. you felt dizzy, struck by the desire to run your hands over his chest.
your touch lingered longer than it normally did. he noticed. what didn’t he notice?
especially after your stunt last night. he didn’t get a wink of sleep. he was up all night staring at his phone, watching the pictures light up his feed. he wasn’t embarrassed, shocked, nor ashamed. the british driver was entirely elated. with your graceful composure, assuredness in holding him at your side.
he scrolled through the comments, too, but there was not one negative thing he could find. spare a few comments that he had to bite his tongue on responding to, you were gaining an overwhelming amount of support from his fans.
your fans.
there were accounts made in your honor. outfit accounts, update accounts, people with your face as their profile picture. he scrolled through every one of them. he was maddeningly obsessed.
but what changed? why were you acting this way? not that he was upset by this change…but your inability to tell him…tell him what was going on frightened him. he felt anxious.
“what’s going on with you?” he brought his face closer to yours, lowering his voice so no one else could hear the both of you.
“nothing. it’s nothing.” your tone was hastened, weary.
“it doesn’t sound like–”
“we’re ready for you, lando.” his engineer interrupted the two of you with a polite smile.
the british driver sighed.
you placed your hands on his chest. “i’m fine.” though it did little to soothe his woes.
he looked at you weary eyed, brows turnt upward with concern. he didn’t believe you.
“i just…” your hand trailed up his neck, thumb caressing his bottom lip. he stayed perfectly still beneath your fingertips. “really want you to win.”
you placed a soft kiss on his opposite cheek.
“you got this, lan.”
he kissed your thumb that was on his lips and said nothing else before he jumped into the mclaren.
────────────
you were on absolute edge the entire race. it was an uphill battle. you’ve never been seen so anxious with your headset on, tapping your feet anxiously against the concrete. arms crossed over your chest, it was down to the last few laps. lando had been hard running in first.
first. lando was in first.
you could feel this in your blood. he was born for this.
and when he crossed that fucking finish line, you’ve never felt so much joy in your entire life.
he yipped and punched his fist in the air, his screams were pure music to your ears.
his engineers came to pat you on the back, gauging your all too excited reaction. lily was at your side, too, jumping and giving you a hug.
lando jumped from his parked car, ripping off his helmet and neck guard. he was on top of the fucking world when he jumped atop the crowd of mclaren workers, them holding him up with ease and chanting his name.
you stood beside lily, hand covering your mouth to stifle your sobs. you couldn’t be more proud of him than in this moment.
he caught your eye from above the crowd, watching the tears fall down your face. when he jumped off his celebratory pile, he ran over to you.
you threw your arms around his neck, launching yourself against him. he caught you, he always would, and held you tight. he would never let you go. never. your tears wet the base of his neck.
“lando…” you said into his race suit that smelled of burnt rubber and sweat. you didn’t care. this was your lando.
he pulled back, looking at you with concern. it was a characteristic look for him these past few days.
but you wanted that to go away.
you wanted nothing but his happiness. his joy. his passions. to see him on top of the world. but you wanted to be right there with him, side by side.
your lips were on his before he blinked. he was taken back, surprised, and face dripping in sweat. your hands gripped around his muscular neck, tugging him to you. you wanted more. you wanted this. this over anything. him over anything.
he returned your kiss when he was done pinching himself. your lips were entirely too sweet. luckily he had a sweet tooth.
his hand cupped the back of your head, tilting you towards him for a better, deeper angle. you moaned into him as he sucked on your bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. you were floating, floating in the world of lando norris. you never wished to return to the ground.
but you did. the cheers around you got louder. you realized you would too if this kept up.
the new grand prix winner wasn’t finished, though, when his free hand gripped your hip. you stifled a giggle by smiling into his mouth, catching your breath. “lan,” you chuckled.
“don’t tell me this is a dream.” he had tears swelling in his eyes, lips plump from your kiss. “i might just have to–”
you cupped his cheek.
“real.” you assured him. “i’m real. this–” you brought his gloved hand to your heart. “is real.”
he bit his lip, though it did little to conceal his smile.
“drink some champagne for me.”
he kissed you once more. a telltale we aren’t done.
and you sure as hell weren’t.
────────────
“don’t understand why we’re celebrating out there,” lando gestured to the door as you were putting your heels on in a hurry. “when we could be here.” he pulled you to him, your back flushed against his chest. you leaned into him, sighing.
“because your friends want to celebrate,” you finished putting on your shoes. “me included.”
lando’s hand tightened around your waist. “you’re not my friend.”
your brows upturned when you spun around to face him. your expression was sickeningly innocent. “‘m not?” your hands landed on his chest, turning your head to the side with fluttering lashes.
“absolute minx,” lando seethed with a hearty laugh, leaning in to kiss you. your noses brushed together, his lips coming to graze yours. but you smiled and pulled away from him before he could taste your lipstick.
he made a move to pull you back to him by your elbow, but you gave him a look. “we’re going to your celebrations, lan. don’t care what you have t’say.”
he groaned, his head falling forward to your shoulder. your hands raked through his hair, down the back of his neck. he practically purred like a fucking kitten under your fingertips.
“and as far as i know,” you kissed his temple. “we’re still friends. haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend, did you?” your hands curled in his hair, pulling him to meet your eye. he bit his lip, blushing!
“you’re blushing, baby!” you cooed, reaching to squeeze one of his cheeks.
“can’t blame me,” he muttered, head darting back into the crook of your neck and leaving soft kisses down to your collarbones. “the most beautiful woman has her hands all over me…what am i supposed to do with m’self?” he chuckled and you felt his teeth against your sensitive skin. you sucked in a breath with a smile.
“ask her,” you lowered your voice, whispering into him. “i’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“would she?” his head perked up, flushed and warm from your neck.
“in every universe, lan.” your humorous tone turned serious. he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing when he felt the weight of your words. “you know that gravity is the only force that can travel through any dimension? any time, any place, it will be found.”
he was listening to you intensely, voice cracking as he spoke. “i would find you.”
your eyes widened at him.
“through any black hole, space phenomena, wormhole,” his breath fanned your cheeks. “i’ll always find you.”
you leaned in to kiss him. he met you halfway, swallowing your mouth with his. you let him push you up against the counter, your hand gripping the ledge so you didn’t tumble over. you opened your mouth and his tongue slipped in without hesitating. he explored the corners of your mouth, the shapes of your teeth, your own tongue.
your moan was deep from your chest when you felt his hand start to slip up your thigh. his pinky scathing the fabric of your thin underwear. you gasped when he ran trailed over your cunt, already wet and swollen under his touch.
"all for me, baby?" he chuckled into your neck, soothing your cunt of its tumultuous ache.
you nodded, but that wasn't enough.
"words. need words."
"fuck. yes, lan, all for you." you moaned when he flexed a finger inside of you, the sweet burn was tender to your growing coil in your belly. but things just can't go smoothly, can they?
you were brought back to earth when your phone began to ring. fuck.
you tried pushing lando off of you, but he grumbled against your lips. you smiled, but detached from him. “lan,” he shook his head, refusing to let you go. “lan, it’s probably everyone wondering where you are.”
“don’t care.”
“you should.”
“don’t.” his mind didn’t change, finger still exploring you before you shook him off.
you kissed the tip of his nose. “we won’t stay for long, okay? besides…”
there was a sheepish look on your face. “i have a boyfriend to show off.”
lando didn’t need to be told twice to get you swept off your feet and into his car.
────────────
the entire drive there his hand was on your thigh, so high that he traced the lining of your black laced underwear with his pinky. you gripped his wrist tightly, but said nothing the entire ride there.
when you pulled up, a valet man opened the door for you. you stepped out and were met with ten times the amount of flashing cameras that you were used to. you got this. with a straight posture and elegant– as elegant as you could muster– composure, you waited for lando to meet at your side.
you weren’t disappointed when you felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowds. shouts were sent your way, his way; “lando! lando! is this your girlfriend? are you dating? what’s her name?”
he made sure to answer only one question with your nod of approval before he climbed the steps to the nightclub.
“lando! is this your girlfriend?”
“yes,” he said with his charming nature, turning back to look at you, starstruck by your beauty. you smiled back at him, hand caressing his chest. the cameras went wild at your natural pose with each other.
inside the club was much better. with a restricted guest list of close friends and family, you were at ease. when you entered you were met with all three of your closest girlfriends. lily, rebecca, and alexandra. they squealed when they saw you, sprinting in your direction leaving their boyfriends in distress by their absence.
“congratulations, lando!” lily said upon her arrival first, then glancing to you. “and an even more congratulations is in order? are you fucking kidding me!” she said with utter glee. you leaned further into lando’s side if that was possible. he relaxed at your touch, hand loose at your hip.
“i knew it.” rebecca said with certainty.
“she really did,” alexandra confirmed.
you rolled your eyes at the pair of them.
“i’ll get us drinks, baby.” lando whispered into your ear, his nose jutting against your hair. he gave you a kiss to your head and departed from your side, meeting up with the guys, too.
“tell us everything!” alexandra jumped up and down.
“there’s not much to tell.” you shrugged, hands thrown up in defense. “i just thought about what you said. you were right. i was so, so blind.” wasted time was a fear of yours.
“we’re proud of you anyways. have you seen all the paparazzi for you?” rebecca opened her phone, scrolling endlessly through her timeline. “i fucking hate you. you look perfect in every one of them.”
“oh please,” you brushed her off. “have you looked in a mirror, becca?”
it was a stellar night. you found yourself on the dance floor shortly after with your favorite drink in your hand, per lando’s stellar memory of your order.
without another moment longer, your hips were moving over lando’s on the dance floor, his hands loose on your hips as he ran them up and down your body. you decided you weren’t going to have more than one drink tonight, preferring to remember every moment of this celebration.
the song was a bumping rap tune, easy to follow along with your suave moves. “suave,” you were just letting loose against your now boyfriend. the word was still foreign to you, but you felt increasingly giddy at the mention.
lando, though? he was a changed man. not only did your kiss bring him ultimate luck before his race, he now has you at his side. he’ll do anything to keep you there. fuck, how did he get so lucky? he had a feeling something was going on, but never would he think it would be your lips on his after his race. he can still taste your tears.
you cried for him the entire time he was up on that podium, absolutely relishing in the national anthem played in his honor. and he could only keep his eyes on you. your glittering, magnificent eyes that sparkled beneath the miami sun. they sparkled for him, only him, on this marvelous day.
and he would let everyone know that you shined for him. that you were his. while he may have won his first race, you were better than any trophy he could ever get.
eventually, everyone raised their glasses for lando and cheer’s to his victory. you held your glass high, downing the entire thing. he did the same, only keeping to a few so he could see you as clear as day. he felt the same way…he never wanted to forget a moment with you.
you faced him now, body still swaying to the music. with your chest brushing against his, you felt a growing heat over your neck. as the night went on, the sweatier lando became. the more his tanned skin glowed beneath the hue of the lights. the more his cologne pumped through your nose. it was impossible to not be intoxicated by him, drunk on his affection.
with your hands gripping his neck, you looked up to him through your hooded eyes, a look that he wished he could take a fucking picture of.
“what?” he said into your ear.
you only shifted closer into him if that was possible.
“need me, baby?” he chuckled low and wicked. you shifted on your feet, tightening your legs together. you almost did before lando stuck his leg out, having you tightened around him.
you nodded rapidly into his neck, clutching the fabric of his shirt. it was an appropriate time to leave, too, given that many have already bid their goodbyes. lando was only sticking around for you, after all. “please,” you whimpered into his ear, mouth wetting the skin beneath his chin.
“fuck.” he cursed, maneuvering your body towards the exit with ease. his hands felt so good around you. you wanted them everywhere all the time.
you bid your farewells to your friends with haste, feeling a slight guilt for leaving so…suddenly.
but lando didn’t.
the drive back to the hotel took no time at all, lando blowing through every fucking stop sign and light that came in his direction. his hand was firm on your thigh this time, white knuckling the steering wheel. you stared at him, his side profile. he was too irresistible like this–needy, urgent– so you leaned over to kiss the side of his face, down his neck with sensual, puckering kisses.
he leaned his head back, giving you access to his thick neck. you had no idea how he kept focus on the road, but you had full faith in him to get back unscathed.
“i know, baby,” he sighed, low and deep. “almost there.”
pulling into the valet, you opened the door yourself. lando threw the keys up in the air to the doorman and proceeded to rush you through the lobby. you couldn’t contain your giggles when he kept pressing the elevator button over and over.
“that doesn’t make it any faster, you know.” you commented, your own foot tapping against the cool marble of the ground.
“i’ll show you fast, baby, watch your mouth.” chills ran up your spine. your legs clenched together again and you couldn’t meet his eye.
bastard.
when the elevator opened, you shuffled inside and he had you against the wall before you could catch your breath. his lips attacked yours, moving down to your jawline, peppering your neck with slower, intense kisses. you moaned, biting your lip to conceal the sound the best you could.
he moved to your chest, your collarbones being the first to be victim of his biting kiss. he would bruise the skin atop your breasts, marks for only him to gawk at. it looks like you won’t be getting any miami sun any time soon. or ever if his swirling tuck keeps suckling against your skin.
“fuck, lan.” you whimpered, looking down at him below you, hands cupping his neck in place. he would happily be imprisoned by you like this. he would never go hungry.
he groaned at your breathless response, adhering heavily to his actions as he didn’t miss an inch of your skin with his sloppy kisses. you pulled at the curly hair of his scalp that had his eyes rolling back into his head. you watched the delectable sight, your panties becoming increasingly damp as the seconds rolled by.
the doors to your floor opened. lando didn’t move for a moment. you pulled his head back from his devouring of your skin. “you’re fucking me in your bed or not at all.”
“you’re the death of me, darling.”
you were swept across the floors of your hotel, lando fumbling with the key to the room anxiously. you kissed up his neck in anticipation until the door clicked open and you were practically tossed inside. he slammed the door shut, throwing the “do not disturb” sign on the handle. not a soul would bust in on the two of you.
you were ripping off your heels and throwing them across the floor before you were latched onto him again. but it didn’t last long until you wanted more. you weren’t going to fuck him in this kitchen, either. you were going to do it right, despite your hazy mind and actions.
lando chased after you like a mad man. you squealed running through the hotel room on your tip toes until you burst open the door to his place. the bed sheets were ruffled, clothes on the floor, and it smelled like him. you bit back a moan at the sight, lando’s chest meet your back.
his lips were back on your neck, your shoulders. he tore through the fabric of your dress, undoing the zipper with methodical fingers. the gown fell to the floor, leaving your chest bare and your panties thin and otherworldly.
you were ethereal.
there wasn’t an ounce of shame inside of you when you spun around to face him. his hands were running up and down your bare skin, feeling how soft you were. a cuss fell verbosely from his lips, like honey.
you backed away from him with an enticing look, swaying your hips before you fell backward on his bed, hands threading over your head. a palm came down to trace down your sternum, your lower belly, the hem of your dampened panties.
lando watched you through his darkened eyes, almost black with desire. black holes. they sucked up the light around them, absorbing it without second thought. you wanted nothing more than to be absorbed by him. wholly.
he stalked towards you like a hunter, back straight with his lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to ravage you right here– tear the underwear from your hips, fuck you into another dimension, but he would resist. all he wanted was to savor this moment, this vision, of you laying out before him, bare and vulnerable. all for him. you trusted him with your intimacy, your touches. he’d do nothing more to keep you like this.
the british driver stood over you, your legs coming to squeeze together until his knee shoved its way through. your thighs dangled over the edge of the bed, burning with the scorching heat of your core.
one of his fingers came down to run over your chest, your nipples, your abdomen. you squirmed at his teasing touch, feeling everything and absolutely nothing at once. you mewled deep within your throat, begging for more.
he stopped at the band of your underwear, latching the same finger beneath it and drawing his hand back. the fabric peeled away with ease, your cunt glistening at his will. he noticed, of course, nostrils flaring with a tense angst of lust. no woman had looked as beautifully sinful as you have. you were a blessing and a curse– the most angelic devil he’s ever met.
“beautiful,” he cooed, trailing two fingers over the crease of your thighs, over the lips of your pussy. you whined again, shifting your hips to get him to touch you where you needed him. badly. he tsked, at your impatience.
it took him all of a second to launch atop of you, his turn to cage you in with his toned arms. you watched as his veins pulsed, blood running viciously hot through his body. it had you glancing down at the outline of his cock through his pants, the indent firm and mesmerizing.
you salivated, a string of drool leaking from your mouth. he wiped it away with his thumb and a chuckle, looking at you from his elevated position above you. “soon, sweet girl.”
that was enough for you right now. his lips attached to your chest once more, spots already swollen and bruising with his previous attack. he moved to your breasts, cupping them in his palms, kneading the flesh. it felt heavenly to be beneath him like this– you never thought you could be so vulnerable with a man like this before.
the british driver’s mouth moved to your opposing nipple, latching onto it with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. you whined, mouth opening for a loud gasp at the curdling sensation. you felt that feeling in your lower belly, a white hot coil that was desperate to snap.
you were so soft beneath his touch. he could mold you, bruise you for his own gawking at a later date. and you wanted him to. you were his and he was yours. nothing could change that now.
he moved to the other breast, not daring to neglect any part of you. it was euphoric how delectable this was. you’ve never been touched so intimately. no one has cared this much about your pleasure. but to lando, it was everything.
his gospel was on your pleasures.
“lan, lan please,” you whimpered, squirming beneath him when he wasn’t between your thighs yet. “need you so bad.”
“i know baby,” he said into the skin of your belly. you felt his smirk. he kept trailing down and down. “so pretty,” he sighed, coming face to face with your folds, swollen and beating for his touch.
you clenched around nothing, and the desperation has never been so poignant.
and then his tongue was on you, spreading you wide. you gasped, so responsive to his touch, and grappled onto the curly strands of his hair. he was deliberate with his touches, fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. his tongue drilled into you, curling upward that had you biting back your moans. despite your efforts, it was a failure. you were slack jawed and squirming beneath him. his grip tightened around your thighs in response, surely bruising the skin.
he tongued every corner of your pussy, swiping over your clit once that had you jolting upward. he memorized the spot, stimulating you to the point where the coil began to itch to snap.
there was no hope for you when he was getting impatient and added a finger to rub circles on your clit, his tongue continuing to thrust in and out of you. pleasure would build and build, rising to an ultimate bliss when he found that sparkler inside of you.
at the angle he caressed with his tongue, you bucked your hips into him further. you felt him chuckle into you, his throat vibrating with such a cocky sound. he found a spot that made you fucking tick and you were entirely at his disposal.
he abused the motion of his fingers, the assault of his tongue. you felt entirely undone by him, progressively getting tighter and tighter at his motions. “come on, baby…” he spoke into you. you couldn’t help the uncontrollable arch of your back. “you’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you?”
yes, yes! your mind shouted, fingers hanging onto his hair for dear life. you moaned, soaking further with his words of encouragement, eyes rolling back into your head. ‘course you needed him to talk you through it. how silly of lando with such an oversight. “so good, lan…”
“i’ve got you,” he uttered. “fuck baby, so pretty f’me. come on now,” and you needed nothing more than his sweet praise brushing past your ears to have the coil inside of you snap.
you saw stars as you came on his tongue, sweet nectar filling his mouth with a gulp. he kissed every part of you, cleaning you with his tongue. you watched, weary eyed, amazed by how hot the action was. your pussy clenched. he felt it. glancing up at you from his position on his knees.
“taste so good, sweet girl.” he cleaned up the excess from your plump folds with two fingers, bringing them towards your mouth.
you opened your mouth on cue, his eyes widening with awe. you were fucking perfect. lips latching onto his plush fingers, you sucked them clean amply. you’ve never done such an act before, but it felt…natural. his dick was painfully hard in his pants, almost cumming at the sight of your lust filled eyes.
“my perfect girl…”
you whined, sitting up on your elbows and clenching your hand to etch him closer. he listened on command, climbing to you. it was his shirt, pants, socks, shoes, everything that was on him that bothered you.
fingers coming to yank at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly understood your nonverbal wishes. he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room, and you fiddled with the belt of his jeans. your fingers worked fast and anxiously, throwing the damn belt across the room with a slap. he gripped your chin with a laugh as he loomed above you.
“want you,” you demanded of him in your sweet, cracked voice. he wouldn’t make you beg this time, pulling his garments down with a swift motion. his cock sprung free and up towards the skin of his lower stomach. you flushed. precum was seeping from his tip, dripping onto your thighs. fuck, you whimpered under your breath.
he didn’t settle for a grace period to settle from your orgasm. he wasn’t nearly finished with you. his hand came to cup the side of your face, your lips finding the skin of his palm. wet kisses covered the surface. he groaned. “you got me baby. relax for me, yeah?”
you nodded eagerly, unable to speak as you wiggled your hips from side to side. he bent over and continued to kiss gingerly down your neck, his tip teasing your swollen cunt. you gasped into him, pulling him close to you. he grumbled, finding this angle inadequate. soon enough your legs were over his shoulders with one swift movement.
lando dipped down for a kiss, his lips hot and feral against your own. soon enough, you felt him clamor inside of you. the stretch was invigorating, your entire body springing to life with his beating cock. “oh my god,” your head flew back into the sheets sinking inward as he felt too heavenly to be real.
“that’s it baby,” your cunt tightened around him with those sweet words. as he progressed further, you felt yourself fall further and further into pure bliss. you’d find no such place elsewhere, only in the comfort of his arms. you knew that to be certain. “taking me so well…”
you sucked in a breath, letting out a hoarse moan when he bottomed out inside of you, walls clenching entirely too tight and he thought he’d cum right then and there. but he withheld the best he could, promising to never cum before you did. he needed to see your face when you’d finish on his cock.
“fuck…move, move lan, need you.” you whined, adjusting extremely well to his size. he didn’t even need to prod you to beg for him, you were already a willing candidate. he always knew you would. your sweet eyes, droopy and dolled up for him at the races. he’d imagined these scene over and over in his head, and never once did it disappoint when he’d fist his cock. now you were here, and your cunt was even more heavenly than he imagined.
“anything, baby.” his pace was even and controlled, but you could see that he was tense. through your bedroom eyes, you could feel the tension through his cock. you appreciate the sentiment of taking it slow, but you knew how he was.
he liked to be fast.
“more,” you moaned, his head shooting up to look at you with surprise. you cupped his cheeks, flushed face begging him. “fuck me, lan. need you so fucking bad, please, please–”
he would burn the fucking world for you. you didn’t know it at that moment, but he had never been so in love with you than he has been before. he adhered to your wishes, losing the tension in his shoulders as he began a rough pace against your cunt.
it was his only goal to make sure you felt him in every part of your body. he stretched every corner of your walls, squeezing him at every increasing thrust. he explored you fully and promised to know every inch of you.
“taking me so well,” he grunted out, hips flexing in and out of you with an egregious pace. it was to your ultimate liking to get fucked so well by him.
“lan…” you drawed out in a moan, lost in the stars of his throttling pace. “you’re so good. so fucking–” your own pleasure cut you off, squealing when he shifted only slightly and had your core clenching him tight.
he let out a greedy snicker, knowing he found a spot that made you unbelievably tick. it was his to find, and his to use. you would know no better pleasure than what he awarded you.
“oh fuck–!” you yelped as your release continued to build, the tip of the iceberg in reach. lando felt it, too, with his own stomach tightening and desperate to cum inside of you. you were a trigger for all his desires, and it would be sent off with a singular please that could leave your lips. the power you held over him and didn’t even know it…
“always gonna make you feel good, baby.” he promised you, dipping his abdomen over yours for a deeper, tighter angle. you whimpered, unable to speak. he would do it for you as he kissed over your cheeks, your jawline.
his hand came to the column of your throat. your eyes flared with an undeniable attention and intrigue. you clenched around him, and he hadn’t even applied pressure. “always.” and you fucking believed him when his fingers swiped at the sides, applying the slightest pressure of his fingers to your airway. you fell lax against the sheets, trusting him with every part of your body. no one else would feel this way for him. no one except you.
your eyes swelled with hot tears, breaking when he was firmer with his grasp, even with his hard cock beaming in and out of you.
he lavished at the sight. he never knew he was so hungry up until now, starving for your affection, your pleasures. how perfect you were could never be summarized in words alone.
“i love you,” you sputtered out, breathless and flushed hot. lando’s pace didn’t falter, but his grip around your neck loosened.
“say it again,” he demanded, face pushing up into the crevice of your neck.
“love you so much, lando,” it was a promise you made to him. to yourself. he swore against your neck, his breath hot and humid against your skin.
“come for me. come on, my love.” his words were only encouraging you towards and ultimate release, your tears hot against your cheeks. “i’ve got you, i’ve got you baby. so good for me, aren’t you?”
“yes, yes!” you whimpered, coil of lust for the british driver snapping a second time, harder, bringing an entire galaxy into your vision. you traveled through time and with lando, you found yourself grounded together in every universe. this was home.
your cunt tightened, causing his pace to get sloppy, his own release parallel to yours. you milked him dry, panting and chests heaving together.
he fell on top of you, his full weight comforting against your wet skin. he didn’t pull out yet, too exhausted to find the effort.
“did you mean it?” i love you.
“yes.”
lando became shy as he found himself brushing your nose with his. “i love you, too. have for a long time.”
a long time
“i will love you in every life time,” you said, earning you the brightest smile that the driver could muster. a lifetime.
“a lifetime…” he repeated, in a daze. “love you so much…” he said your name into your cheek, giving you a plump kiss. “infinite lifetimes would never be enough.”
you peppered his face with kisses. this was your gravity. the force that kept you grounded throughout time. if you ever got lost in the cosmic reaches, you would be able to find him. find home. find the beacon of light that he provided.
you were safe here, and so was he. and does gravity know no bounds between objects. you would be attached to one another for the rest of your living days, and even further throughout the cosmos. and that was enough for you, for now.
────────────
weeps;;
i am also open for requests <3
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#f1 fic#f1 smut#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut#f1 fics#lando norris imagine#lando norris blurb#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#lando norris angst#f1 angst#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 angst#friends to lovers#mclaren#mclaren f1#f1 oneshot#lando norris oneshot#lando x you#lando x reader#lando x y/n#🐚*—my works
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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !
a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….
wc: 4k
warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut
✶ GOJO
professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.
you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.
aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?
the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.
“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.
“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”
gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.
“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.
“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.
gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.
“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.
“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.
“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.
there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.
“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—
professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.
✶ GETO
you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.
it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.
it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.
you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.
“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.
“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”
everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).
geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.
“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.
“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”
as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—
“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.
“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.
“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.
a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”
geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”
“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.
how could he possibly say no?
✶ NANAMI
“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”
nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”
you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.
as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?
it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.
“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.
you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…
“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.
“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.
“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—
“what were you gonna say, baby?”
you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.
“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”
✶ TOJI
it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.
he would know — you got full marks the other time.
“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.
toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.
his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.
your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.
at least now, you’ll make him.
toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.
your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.
that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”
you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”
“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.
“and how did you know i work here?”
“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”
toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.
“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.
“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.
“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.
you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.
“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.
“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”
#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jjk scenarios#jjk fluff#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader#getou suguru smut#satoru gojo smut#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#toji fushiguro smut#suguru geto smut#jjk gojo
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Eldritchrune - Kris's Birthday
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
Close to the end of their journey, Kris has a small celebration with the beasts, and reflects some on both their past with their brother, and the light world ahead.
(Reminder that I draw these scenes out of chronological order!)
YAY managed to get another part done! This one won the poll, so had to go with it first! At least Kris finally gets a nice, happy moment with all the beasts they've recruited!
Alt text under the read more:
Page 1
Panel 1 - Wide opening shot. Kris sits facing Ralsei, with the rest of the Fun Gang surrounding them. The Gang now consists of Susie, Noelle, Lancer, Berdly, Catti and Jockington, and Monster Kid. The Fun Gang have set up camp in a hollow crater, the landscape around them rocky and barren. Everyone is lit solely by the glow of a campfire in the center of the crater. Ralsei addresses Kris: “Get plenty of rest, Kris.”
Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris and Ralsei, still across from each other with the fire between them. Ralsei continues, “Tomorrow we face the last bound god before the Dark Fountain…it’ll be our toughest fight yet!” Kris responds, “Yes. I understand.” They stare into the fire.
Panel 3 - Closeup on a happy Ralsei as he holds up one claw. “And since we’re so close to the end…”
Panel 4 - “...I thought I’d conjure up a special surprise for you!” Ralsei moves his claws, and magically congeals a plate, food and frosting all together in a swirling center.
Panel 5 - Ralsei holds up the finished object in front of the fire: a small frosted cake, topped with strawberries. “SURPRISE! Happy birthday, Kris!” he declares with a broad smile.
Page 2
Panel 1 - Ralsei holds the cake up in the foreground. Kris looks at it in surprise. Behind them, Susie and Noelle look on with interest. “Wow! Is today really your birthday, Kris?” Noelle asks.
Panel 2 - Closeup on Kris. They scratch at their head in confusion, and respond, “I… Is it? I’ve lost track of the days since arriving here…”
Panel 3 - Medium shot as Ralsei happily hands the cake to Kris, who takes it. He says, “Well, I’m not sure if it’s exactly today. But by my estimates you should have had one by now! So now is as good a time as any!”
Panel 4 - A wider upshot as Kris takes the cake, and the beasts watch. Berdly leans in closer, curious, and asks, “What do you humans do on these ‘birth-days,’ as you call them?”
Kris replies, “Well, typically…you eat cake, or some other sweet treat, and you spend time with your friends and family.”
Panel 5 - Kris stares into the fire again, and continues, “And usually, they also give you gifts.” Behind them, as if in abstract shadow, is an image of a younger Kris surrounded by the other Dreemurrs, all smiling. It seems to be a memory of a past birthday.
Page 3
Panel 1 - Closeup of Kris still looking into the fire, their eyes hidden by their hair. A shadow seems to fall over them. The memories of happier times still hurt.
Panel 2 - Lancer pipes up: “Ya got the cake and friends part right here!” Kris turns to see Lancer and Susie smiling at them, and gives a small smile back.
Panel 3 - Noelle leans in over Kris as well, her head taking up most of the panel. She says, “Sorry, we don’t have any gifts for you…but two out of three isn’t bad, right?”
Kris’s smile broadens a little, and they reply, “No, it is not.”
Panel 4 - Kris pulls out a smaller knife…
Panel 5 - And in a shot focused on the cake, begins to slice the cake into equal pieces with the knife.
Panel 6 - Kris offers a piece to Catti, who happily licks it up. “Tasty.”
Panel 7 - Kris tosses a piece across the fire to Berdly, who catches it in his mouth. “Thanks, Kris!”
Panel 8 - Kris turns around and tosses another piece into Susie’s open jaws. “Hell yeah, cake!” she says, excited.
Page 4
Panel 1 - A wide shot as the whole Fun Gang sit around the fire, enjoying their cake slices, small as they are. Kris works on eating their own slice. Noelle says, “That was good! …Do you think there’ll be lots more cake in the light world?”
Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris, who turns to look up at Noelle. “Yes, there are. But I would have thought you’d be interested in the humans more,” they say around a mouthful of cake.
Panel 3 - Noelle looks off to the right, and responds, “Sure, I’ll have some, if they’re soft… I don’t like the hard bits, like armor and bones.”
Panel 4 - Wider shot as Noelle leans back against Susie, snuggling into her side. “I mostly want to get to the Light World and quiet this feeling in my mind…once I do that, I’ll be happy,” She says.
Susie grins, and says, “More for me, then! I can’t wait to get to the Light World and all that food…”
Page 5
Panel 1 - Susie rests her head on the ground, and continues, “I’m gonna eat up all those humans and finally feel full!” She smiles and licks her lips at the thought. Lancer sits just nearby.
Panel 2 - Wider shot of all the beasts around the fire. Across from Susie, sitting in a loaf, Catti says “Greedy.”
“Oh come on, like you aren’t excited for the food!” Susie responds with an annoyed look.
Panel 3 - Medium shot as Catti looks up towards the dark clouds above them, grinning broadly. Behind her, Jockington also looks Skyward, his body wiggly. Catti says, “Not just that. Open skies. Sun. Fresh smells. New magic.” Jockington adds, “It’s been, way too long since we, learned a new technique!”
Catti reiterates: “Lots of things. Looking forward to them.”
Panel 4 - Wider shot as Kris turns to Monster Kid, who’s been quiet this whole time. They’re mostly buried underground, but their tail is currently out of their mouth. Kris asks them, “You’re looking forward to leaving the Dark World, too?” They reply, “Y-yeah, Kris! I wanna eat some humans too, but…also wanna be someplace niver, y’know?”
Panel 5 - Closeup on Monster Kid’s face as they continue: “Here it’s really hard to find food. And it’s so dark and cold, and e-everyone’s trying to fight each other… I hate it, yo.”
Page 6
Panel 1 - Wide downshot of the whole Fun Gang huddled together in the empty crater. The barred landscape stretches out around them. Berdly looks to the skies, and says, “Yes, it’s true. The terrain here is so bleak and devoid of sidequests.”
Panel 2 - Closeup on Berdly as he smiles, looking excited and proud. “But if the Light World has as many humans as you say, I’ll be able to max out my volume in no time!”
Panel 3 - Susie looks away and sticks out her tongue, clearly annoyed at the prospect. “Oh goody, we’re aaaall excited for that…”
Berdly, not picking up on her sarcasm, just continues to beam proudly. “And rightfully so!”
Panel 4 - Noelle nudges her enormous nose against Kris’s back, and says, “We’re all really excited to see the Light World with you, Kris.”
Kris turns back towards her slightly, and smiles. “Me too.”
Panel 5 - Kris reaches around the fire to hand the now empty plate back to Ralsei, who takes it.
Panel 6 - Ralsei makes the plate vanish into shards of nothing with a wave of his claws. “Then let’s get some rest!” he says, satisfied.
Panel 7 - The small campfire is now extinguished. Only a thin wisp of leftover smoke rises from the blackened wood and coals.
Page 7
Panel 1 - A wide shot of the crater, still at night. With the campfire out, all of the eldritch beasts are now asleep. Monster Kid is buried underground. Catti is sleeping as a loaf, with Jockington resting on her back. Berdly sleeps with his head tucked under one wing. Susie and Noelle sleep snuggled up together, with Susie’s long tail curled around them. Kris lays nestled between them, long hair and shaggy fur serving as a makeshift bed. Ralsei stands off to the side.
Panel 2 - Medium shot of Kris. They lay awake between the two beasts, staring up at the sky. They look pensive.
Panel 3 - Slightly closer, Kris looks down and to their right. Ralsei asks from offscreen: “Kris! Are you feeling all right?”
Panel 4 - Downshot of Ralsei as he looks up towards Kris. He spreads his arms out in a hopeful gesture. “I know perhaps this isn’t the sort of birthday you would have had back home, but I was hoping I did okay on such short notice…”
Panel 5 - Closeup on Kris as they close their eyes. “I just…” They take a deep sigh.
Panel 6 - Kris looks up from the makeshift bed, looking sad. “I can’t remember the first birthday I had with mom and dad and Azzy anymore.”
Page 8
Panel 1 - Shot of the dark skies above. Thick clouds silently roll across a starless expanse. “The whole day feels like it’s completely gone.”
Panel 2 - Wider shot, with Ralsei in the foreground. He still watches Kris carefully. “Oh, I see. I suppose Seam has asked for quite a few payments from you during your time here…perhaps you sold the memory?”
Panel 3 - Closeup on Kris as they squeeze their eyes shut, trying to block out budding tears.
Panel 4 - “Yes. Likely,” they say. Kris sadly holds up their left hand above their head. Their hand is missing the pinkie finger…another payment to Seam.
Panel 5 - Closeup on Ralsei as he looks downward. “I’m sorry, Kris.”
Panel 6 - Medium shot as Kris hugs themself, still nestled in the hair and fur. “Asriel would usually get me a book he thought I’d like, and I’d complain about it, but then read it cover to cover in one night. Once I learned how to read, anyway,” they say with a small smile.
Panel 7 - Low angle shot as Kris continues to reminisce, watching the dark clouds above. “Mom and dad also always got me a square of chocolate. I don’t know how they afforded it.”
Page 9
Panel 1 - In a flashback panel, Asriel and Kris sit across from each other outdoors, each leaning against trees. Simple woods surrounded them, and a lazy river rolls by just past them. Beyond the river are a few small homes and farms from the town. Kris holds an apple, while Asriel has a book and feather pen. Both are talking, looking happy.
Kris speaks over the flashback: “Azzy and I would go and sit by the river in the summer, and he’d point out plants and animals and tell me to give them science names. Even when I said crass or foolish ones, he wrote them down and said he would petition to get the names changed.”
Panel 2 - Closeup on Kris as they look away, the memory still feeling a bit sad to them.
Panel 3 - Closeup on Ralsei, interested and responding to the stories. “Your brother sounds like a generous soul.”
Panel 4 - Kris looks down, still sad and reminiscing. “He didn’t have to be so nice to me. Everyone said he’d leave town and go do great things.”
Panel 5 - Another flashback panel, this time in Azzy and Kris’s shared room. It looks similar to their room in canon, but much older and more bare-bones, with simple wood walls. Kris sits on the edge of their bed, listening. Asriel sits on the edge of the bed, looking pensive, his cheek resting against his hand.
Kris continues over the flashback: “But he…he told me that he didn’t like that pressure. That I was more fun to hang around than whatever great thing the town expected him to do.”
Page 10
Panel 1 - Closeup on Ralsei. He looks on, his tattered scarf flowing behind him. A curious smile crosses his face. “The way you have spoken about him, all this time…I am so curious to meet him.”
Panel 2 - Kris nestles down into the bed of fur and hair, and shuts their eyes, drifting off to sleep at last. They mumble, “Maybe…maybe soon.”
Panel 3 - Wide shot of all the beasts, asleep in the crater. Kris finally sleeps as well, tucked between Susie and Noelle. It’s dark, and quiet. In the foreground, Ralsei remains awake and watching, his back to the camera. It’s unknown what he’s thinking.
#lynx art#eldritchrune#deltarune au#kris dreemurr#ralsei#susie#noelle#lancer#berdly#catti#jockington#monster kid#whole crew is here!#and for those curious: Kris traded away their finger to Seam at some point
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“𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫’𝐬”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! praising degradation, daddy/mama/brat, hints of jealousy/possessive!stoner!suguru, squirting, teasing, choking, squirting, mating press, pain kink, size kink, two fingers in your ass, mindbreak/getting cockdrunk, begging, a momentary just the tip moment, riding him, overstimulation, breeding, stuffing his cum into you, some spanking
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! I have a praise kink and a degradation kink, I need Geto to tell me that I'm his favourite dirty little slut and absolutely nail me to the mattress while doing 🥵🥵🥵
Oreo: I was thinking of a part two of stoner!suguru with this one, even though he doesn't smoke. I like the follow up of him finally deciding he wants to be more than just friends
Slapping your soft cunt and yanking your legs back open when you go to black the next hit. He demands, “Color?” Leaning forward, towering over you to make you feel smaller.
Using his weight to keep you pinned in a firm mating press. His thick cock nudging your soft cunt. Shoving your hips trying to best to glide an inch in your sore cunt. Eager for the sweet pleasure to cut through the pain.
You whine, “Green! Please don't be mad! I didn't mean to make you jealous, didn't think.” He grabs your throat, tightly squeezing.
“Didn't think I’d want your beautiful ass all to myself?” Softly kissing your forehead, smiling down at you tightening his grasp around your neck.
He croons, “Mama we've been living together and fucked on nearly every surface of his apartment. N’ you spent every night in my bed, so tell me whose are you?” Letting your neck go, grabbing your hands putting them above your hand.
“Who takes care of you?” By the time you catch your breath, he slaps your cunt harder than before. Stuffing one thick finger in softly curling it stroking your sweet spot to ease your discomfort.
Reaching for Suguru he pins your wrists together with one large hand. Gliding a second finger in, touching your clit, and then nothing. Suguru refuses to move his fingers.
The lack of stimulation makes it easier to think. You look into Suguru’s loving, dark chocolate eyes. “You do! I love the life we have made, our routine. I adore how you notice the little things about me.” He pumps his fingers twice, then stops. “I love the softness in your voice when you say name.” He softly rubs your clit and slowly pumps his fingers, stroking your sweet spot.
He purses his lips and looks at his side table whilst admitting, “I supposed I never outright asked you.” The passionate, hungry intensity in his dark brown eyes is exciting. Suguru glides his fingers out smirking when you whine.
Dipping his head watching your soft hole clenching nothing. “This is also too much fun. I’ll take any chance I get to fuck into your head that you’re mine.” Teasing you with a small swirl of his thumb.
“Please!” Wiggling your hips trying to slips his thumb in, Suguru pulls away. Leaving you on the edge of the bed with your legs spread and your cunt yearning to stimulation.
Opening the bottom bedside drawer pulling out a long black box. Taking out a necklace whilst walking around the bed, standing in front of it. There is a S dangling from a thin chain.
He softly smiles, “Do you wanna be with me?” He unfastens the clasp holding the necklace open.
You stand up on his bed “Yes!” Wrapping your arms around him. Suguru bites the second his head gets near your chest. You cunt clenches from the sweet pain.
Slipping your hand into Suguru’s soft hair, softly tugging making him groan and bucks his hips. “Sit down for me mama lemma slip this on you before I rearrange your guts.” You kneel close to the edge of the bed.
Suguru carefully puts the necklace on you. He softly kisses the top of your head. You insist, “I need to get you something, or do something for you.” He grabs your throat pinning you to the bed, slapping your soft cunt.
“How about you take my cock like a good slut?” He grabs his cock, lining himself up. Giving your neck a tighter squeeze before letting go. He leans back to watch your soft tight cunt stretch for his thick cockhead.
He grabs your thighs, pinning you in a mating press. Groaning as he glides his thick head in and out. Watching the soft ridge of his cock head tug on your soft cunt. “Such a pretty little cunt, love see her stretch nm grip my cock like she doesn’t wanna let me go.”
You plea, “Please lemme feel the rest of you. Wanna feel all of your cock! Daddy please!” He roughly rocks his hips forward, giving you all of his thick veiny cock.
Suguru doesn’t move his hard cock, stroking your clit. Groaning when you clench him. He croons, “Daddy what? I’m letting you feel all of my cock what else doesn’t my pretty little slut need?”
Begging Suguru, “Daddy please fuck me! Fuck your slut into a stupid mess! Wanna be your beautiful spoiled cocky sleeve. Please fuck me however you want!” He grabs your hips, lifting your lower half off the bed.
Using his firm grasp to help you meet his rough thrusts. His hips slapping yours. The bed softly rocking, his heavy wooden headboard tapping the wall. “Nnn fuck fuck fuck! Gonna breed ya? Ya want that? Ya wanna be pretty little cum filled whore?” Your cunt spams around his cunt.
His hard cock stroking, stretching and hitting your cunt perfectly. Sweet intense pleasure makes it hard to think. Why should you bother when you can mindlessly take Suguru’s fat cock?
“Nnnnn! Hhhhnnn! Mmm fuckkkk! Feelsgoodfeelsnnn!” You grab the bedsheets. Unable to think about anything else but how good his cock feels in your cunt. Nothing else matters but your boyfriend’s large hands, thick cock, sweet groans, and the way he is admiring you.
Suguru croons, “Are ya my mindless cock hungry slut? Mmm? Want me to bully your soft tight cunt?” Keeping his pace the same and fucking his cock into you hard.
You muster the words to answer Suguru beyond, “Daddy! Daddy! Nnn! Bully the brat outta me!” Suguru leans over you, grabbing your neck to lift you off the bed. You feel so small in his grasp, so perfectly helpless to do anything but take his cock.
Bouncing you faster on his thick cock, his moans getting louder, breathier. “Sofuckingood wanna cum in your soft cunt! Been thinking about it all I’ve been able to think about since I saw you flirting with him. I should’ve fucked in ya in the bathroom then sent you back over with my cum leaking out.” Your cunt clenches.
Suguru smirks, “Of course a slut like you would like that. You’re daddy’s little slut, remember that.”
You’re getting on his possessiveness and manhandling. Grabbing his thick hard biceps, digging in your nails when he flexes. “Daddy’s so big!” Your words trigger something within Suguru.
Without gliding his cock out he flips you over pinning you to the bed. With your ass arched in the air and a firm grasp on your hair, keeping your face out of the pillow.
Using his weight to keep you from wiggling away from him mercilessly. “Gonna fuck my cum into you, don’t wanna stop. Wanna keep fucking my big cock into your sweet cunt.” You can feel his cock’s veins pulse as he’s getting closer.
His balls are slapping your clit with each rough thrust. Your ass clapping, your soaking wet cunt squelching.
You love how whiny Suguru is the closer he is. The way his body shivers on top of you, his rough smooth pace momentarily faltering. He whines, “What am I?”
Slipping your fingers into Suguru’s soft dark hair. “Daddy! Mine! Daddy! You’re too much! Too much! Too good. Please cum!” He yanks your head to the side, hunching over to bite your throat.
Warm thick cum trickles and spurts into your soft cunt. Your cunt spasms then gush, thick slick trickling down your thighs. Suguru groans, his pace sloppy and rough.
There is something so carnal about Suguru biting your keep whilst firmly pinning you down to fuck his cum into. You want more, more of his thick cock and warm cum.
You whine, grinding your hips when he falters and stops. “Suguru!” He rolls over with you on top. Keeping his cum deep in you with his cock.
Right away you take the chance, grabbing his thick thighs, lifting your hips, and bouncing on Suguru’s cock. Moaning, trembling, toes curling. Getting off on using his cock like a dildo. Whilst knowing your soft tight cunt is overwhelming him with each stroke.
Leaning forward giving him a good view of your soft cunt taking his cock. His thick cum trickles out of your cunt and coats his thick cock. “Can’t get over how deep your fat cock is. It’s stuffing your cum in so deep!”
Looking over your shoulder to see Suguru. “Thought you were gonna teach my slutty ass a lesson?” Suguru smirks then sucks on two thick fingers. Your cunt clenches when he touches your asshole. Smearing his spit then gliding both fingers in.
He stretches his fingers apart spreading your asshole. Your pace falters, he isn’t moving his fingers. “Teach you what? That you’re such a desperate whore. I think ya know that with how you’re bouncing on my thick cock like it’s all you can think about.” Slowly fucking his fingers into your soft ass.
“Go on mama tire your little pretty bratty ass out. I wanna hear you beg me to fuck ya when your legs get too tired.”
Oreo m.list
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto suguru smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto x you#geto x y/n#getou x reader#getou suguru smut#getou smut#getou suguru x reader
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I don't know if this kink has a name but I am just obsessed with super casual boob play lmao
Also!!?? Thank you guys for helping me reach 2K followers! It's so exciting and i've been having so much fun writing and reading the smut on this website. Here's to many more stories which hopefully give you the tingles <3
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"Alright, so that's the groceries we need for this week."
"Mmm."
"Oh, don't forget to buy flowers! It's my moms birthday tomorrow."
"Mmm."
"Are you even listening?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at your boyfriend, the man simply staring at you.
"Mmm."
"Ok, so that's a no." you said, rolling your eyes before snapping your fingers in front of your boyfriends face, the man jumping and blinking a few times as he was brought back to reality.
"Can you pay attention now?" you asked sternly.
"Sorry. I was too busy staring at your tits." he said honestly, making you sigh. There he goes again with his very obvious boob obsession, your man having a clear fetish for your breasts.
"Well, if you continue to ignore me, you won't see my boobs for a week."
"Or, you flash them to me now, I promise I'll remember every single word you say."
"Oh my God."
"Come here, baby. Come here." he begged, hands reaching out to quickly grab you by the hips and drag you forward, his nails digging into the fabric of your skirt as he all but manhandled you onto his lap, smiling at you as he got your legs to straddle his waist.
"You're a degenerate." you snarled as you placed your hands on his shoulder, more than familiar with this particular song and dance.
"I'm your degenerate. And besides, this is your fault you know." he said, casually fisting the hem of your t-shirt before pulling it up, "If you didn't have such perfect titties, I wouldn't be like this!"
"So you weren't obsessed with boobs before you met me?" you questioned, allowing him to tug the t-shirt upto your chin, the man greedily looking at your bra covered breasts. Not having the patience to take the shirt off of you completely, he simply pulled it over your head so it looped around the back of your neck, your arms still in the sleeves but he didn't care as all he wanted was access to his favorite part of you.
"Of course not." he said confidently as he all but face planted into your cleavage, groaning in delight as he pushed his face in as deep as he could go, "I only got obsessed when you came into the picture."
You huffed, trying to fight the blood rushing to your face and between your legs as you fisted a hand through his hair, tugging at it a bit as you got his attention:
"Are you going to listen to me now?"
"Mmhmm." your boyfriend groaned, nodding a yes against your boobs, truly happy being surrounded by your plump flesh. Sighing, you once again told him what he needed to buy for groceries, allowing him to grope and kiss you wherever he wanted. His tongue ran over your skin, huffing and humming in response every time you asked him if he was listening.
He soon pushed your bra up as well, too eager to bother unhooking it as he placed it against your collarbone, the elastic of the band digging into your skin and making your tits look even more delicious than before. He opened his mouth and took a nipple in, closing his eyes as he started suckling gently, his arms wrapped around you and pulling you in closer.
"H-Hey..." you moaned, gripping his hair tighter as he suckled on you, "It's getting late. You need to leave before the stores close."
"Mmhmm. I know." he muttered against you, tongue coming out to flick at your nipples a few times before he moved to the other breast, giving her the same treatment, "Just- fuck- give me a minute."
You sighed, jumping as you felt his hands move down to your ass, taking greedy gropes of your butt as he lost himself in the sensation of your breast in his mouth.
Yeah, you were not getting your groceries today.
~~~~~
You slipped away from the group of friends in the living room to your bedroom, wanting to get your phone which had hopefully finished charging by now. As you were checking your phone and responding quickly to a few messages, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist that swiftly moved upwards and groped your right breast.
"Eh-hey!" you hissed softly, head snapping back towards your boyfriend, his touch so familiar that you instantly knew it was him, "Cut it out! We have guests!"
"I know but I just need one suck, ok?" he asked even as his other hand came up to start unbuttoning your shirt dress, "I'll be super quick, I promise."
"You- ah!" you squealed as he got the buttons undone enough to expose your bra, his fingers digging into the cup of the right side to pull it down, revealing your bare breast to the crisp air. He turned you around and quickly bent down and took the nipple into his mouth. Your head kept snapping between him sucking your nipple and the door, on edge as if anyone walks in, it would be very obvious.
Your man groaned as he suckled on your nipple, eyelashes tickling your skin as he closed his eyes. The sound of the TV and chattering was loud enough to thankfully drown out his groans, your boyfriend suckling you so hard it made your toes curl.
"Wh-you-" you hissed as his hand quickly pulled down the other cup of your bra and exposed your other breast, "You said only one!"
"I know but I can't not suck her too!" he protested, giving your left nipple a greedy lick, "she'll get jealous!"
"What the fuck are you talking abooouuttt!" you gasped as he suddenly took the nipple in and sucked on it as well, just as vigorously. You stood there for a few seconds, allowing your maniac of a boyfriend to suck and feel you up before he finally pulled away.
"Just what I needed. Thank you baby." he said, kindly helping you stuff your tits back into your bra and right your dress, giving your tits a final squeeze before he walked out of the room, leaving you a frustrated mess with your nipples tingling.
What a menace.
~~~~~
It was movie night, one of your favorite ways to spend time together. It was always a treat to just relax with your boyfriend, put on a random movie, eat popcorn and talk.
And of course, he also loved that he gets to play with your tits the whole time.
You huffed as your boyfriend pulled you onto his lap, his legs spread wide to accommodate you between them. Bowl of popcorn in hand, you munched away at the treat even as your man slid his hands up your shirt, aiming for your breasts.
"Ew, why are you wearing a bra?" he asked, clicking his tongue as his hands got in contact with the soft fabric.
"Sometimes I like having my boobs supported by something, ok? Fucking sue me."
"You don't need a bra to support your tits when you have my hands. I'm taking it off."
Before you could even protest, your man slid his hands to your back and unhooked the bra masterfully, practically an expert at it at this point. He was about to push the straps down your arms and pull the bra out from under your shirt but then he realized- why are you wearing a shirt? You might as well be topless as he was going to play with your boobs the whole time anyway.
So with your shirt and bra tossed onto the floor, you tried your best to focus on the movie playing on screen even as your boyfriend happily groped away at your tits. Ample flesh spilling out between his fingers, he squeezed you like a toy- like your tits were something he could use to alleviate stress. Occasionally, he'd flick his fingers over your nipples, working them up to stiff peaks before gently pinching them between his thumb and index finger. He'd place his hands underneath your breasts, cupping them before he bounced them up and down, loving the feeling of your heavy flesh landing on his palms, the ripple of your breasts on impact instantly making his cock hard.
And of course, as usual, once he was done playing with his hands (which was practically an hour long activity), he'll move onto his mouth. Your body automatically moved along with him as he lifted you up a bit higher onto his lap, looping an arm over his shoulder so he had the space to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth.
"Y-You're not even watching the movie, are you?"
"Mm-mmm" he responded, shaking his head no against your breast, his response making you shiver. You rolled your eyes and continued to watch the movie, failing at it even before he started sliding his hand into your pants.
~~~~~
Of course, your boob obsessed boyfriend can't sleep unless it's on said boobs.
"Take it offfff!" he whined, wrestling with you as he harshly tugged at your shirt.
"It's cold!" you protested as you tried to pull the fabric back down over you, "I'm going to freeze!"
"I'll keep you warm! You know the rules- no clothes in bed."
"You're wearing clothes!"
"Yes but I don't have a pair of delicious tits that are just begging to be suckled!"
"Oh my God- fine, how about this?" you asked, slapping his hand away from your shirt before you pulled up upto your chin, flashing him your bare boobs, "Just get in here and I get to keep the shirt on."
"...Why didn't you just say so?"
You grunted as you were tackled, pushed to lie down on the bed as your boyfriend landed on top of you, face first into your tits. You pulled your shirt over his head, covering the dopey smile on his face as he used his hands to push your tits against him, shaking his head from side to side as he motorboated you.
He thankfully still had some sense to pull the blanket over the two of you and you were able to dim the lights, whipping your phone out so you can get some screen time before you went to sleep. You felt wetness on your left nipple, your boyfriend finally done with shaking your fat tits in his face.
His tongue ran in circles over the hard bud, dragging it slowly as he knew he could take his time. He started flicking your bud harshly, his hot tongue making you shiver with each flick. Eventually, he sealed his lips around it, groaning happily as he started to suck. He was noisy- moaning like he was eating a delicious meal and the slobbering noises of him feasting on you making your ears ring, the pressure he used to suckle on you keeping you on your toes.
As he sucked on the left one, his hand came up to play with the right, toying with her as he got her ready to be sucked next. He rubbed the nipple around with his thumb before pinching it gently, giving her a few twists once in awhile. He was latched onto the same nipple for almost 30 minutes before he moved onto the next one, but not before dragging himself from underneath your shirt and pushing the fabric upto your chin.
Fuck it. You were falling asleep and now your body was running hot so you didn't really care.
"Baby... I want-" he gave your nipple a kiss before he snuggled his face into the fat of your breast before looking up at you, "I want to drink your milk. Make it for me."
"How many biology lessons did you fail for you to think that's possible?" you asked, your eyelids drooping and voice heavy.
"Why are you not pregnant yet? I cum in you like, everyday."
"...You know I'm still on birth control."
"I know but I'm confident I can defeat it."
"Mmkay, keep dreaming. Now shut up- i'm gonna sleep."
"...Stop taking your birth control."
"I'm not having a baby just so you can drink some breast milk."
"Of course not. We'll have a baby because we're in love and we'll be together forever!"
You opened one eye and looked down at him, letting him know you were not impressed.
"...And so I can drink your milk."
"Just keep sucking or sleep."
He pouted before he took your left nipple into his mouth.
~~~~~
Gojo Satoru, Haibara, Shanks, Sanji, Luffy, Ace, Kaeya, Kaveh, Childe, Cyno, Itto, Uzui, Sanemi, Eren, Jean etc. etc.
#subby writes#demon slayer smut#kimetsu no yaiba smut#genshin impact smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#uzui smut#one piece smut#shanks smut#luffy smut#sanji smut#haibara smut#ace smut#kaeya smut#childe smut#itto smut#sanemi smut#eren jaeger smut#jean smut
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