#and let me get this straight here and not mix my words
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KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH
❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞
pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader
warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.
KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.
wc. 7k+
rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.
Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless.
Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to.
Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait.
She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk.
She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment.
No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself.
Maybe she is just an asshole.
“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.”
As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it.
“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?”
“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.”
Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought.
Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead.
This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford.
It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side.
Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her.
But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.”
“I’m not—”
You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you.
“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds.
It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum.
It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you.
Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival.
But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her?
“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly.
Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome.
It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen.
There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech.
“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—”
“Kind?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes.
“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.”
With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it.
Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it.
It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night.
Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is.
But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing.
“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?”
“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.”
“Keeps the nightmares away.”
All Vi does is nod.
“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.”
“What about yours?”
“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere.
“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.”
Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story.
You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?”
You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?”
You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them.
You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway.
“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?”
“Is it true?”
You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous.
Hope.
A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself.
The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty.
Vi likes you.
“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.”
Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit.
So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.”
“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it.
“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.”
You chuckle at the pet name.
“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.”
“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.”
—
It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining.
As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders.
It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come.
“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t.
Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her.
There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers.
Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth.
“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.”
As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle.
“I’m just a little—”
“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.
It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give.
Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer.
“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.”
“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.”
Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom.
All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment.
Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.”
The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before.
“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone.
“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control.
“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.”
All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl.
“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.”
“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.”
Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely.
Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward.
With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life.
In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her.
Oil and water.
Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.
All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t.
But this? It feels easy.
She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it.
Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now.
When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human.
A sinner always craves more.
She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place.
The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches.
“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing.
You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it.
Fuck, Vi is making this difficult.
“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?”
You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat.
“What is it?”
“Was it your first time? The first night?”
Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know.
“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.”
“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her.
“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue.
“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?”
“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck.
“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?”
It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked.
If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her.
Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will.
She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake.
Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means.
One night.
Then two.
Now three.
In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride.
“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones.
“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.”
“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.”
It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed.
Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did.
“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue.
The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets.
“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.”
You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it.
“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for.
“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.”
She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start.
Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you.
“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
“I promise.”
Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt.
She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her.
“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate.
She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light.
“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy.
She’s still shy.
Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her.
“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?”
“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror.
“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror.
You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you.
“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?”
In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you.
Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use.
But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore.
“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right.
“Mommy, please.”
Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give.
Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?
“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?”
Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for.
“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you.
It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss.
The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more.
When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue.
Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now.
“I could go again.”
You chuckle. Of course she could.
“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.”
It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait.
With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?”
#m'actually kinda proud of this one#i hope y'all like it :')#lmk what you think <3#vi#vi arcane#arcane league of legends#league of legends#vi smut#vi x reader#vi x you#vi arcane x reader#wlw post#wlw fanfiction#lesbian#violet arcane x reader#vi x fem reader#arcane x you#violet arcane
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It’s my headcannon that the Bad Kids (+company) all collectively made an agreement NEVER to tell Jawbone about what they saw in the nightmare forest because Jawbone would 100% sit them down and attempt to have a full therapy session that takes like 12 hours with each of them.
#fantasy high#fantasy high junior year#dimension 20#jawbone o'shaughnessey#the bad kids#like imagine how his conversation with Fabian would go#jawbone: you saw a#and let me get this straight here and not mix my words#a sexy rat???#Fabian: *nodding solemly* don’t forget about chungledown bim#jawbone does what sandra lyn does when she is talking to fig#and he just downs a bottle of whisky before the convo can continue
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Nanami’s morning voice always gets you horny. It’s so deep with the perfect amount of raspiness.
So when he whispers to you good morning, you fold immediately. Your stomach fluttering as his words go straight to your core. Letting out a hum of acknowledgment before snuggling into his chest, not so discreetly rutting against his thigh in need.
Nanami chuckled, hand cupping your cheek to lift your face to his. His lips only ghosting over yours as you look up at him with a whimper. “Kento..”
“I know, my poor girl’s so needy already hmm? Like the sound of my voice that much sweetheart?” He ran his hand over your hair soothingly, a small smile on his face when you nodded with the softest of whines. Your hips rolling into his for any sort of contact.
You moaned when your clit brushed against his bulge. Allowing Nanami to run his thumb lovingly over your cheeks and then your lips. Slipping it between them so it was settled on your tongue, groaning to himself when your eyes fluttered shut with a sigh. Your tongue swirling around his finger as you sped up the desperate movement of your hips.
“You’re so adorable when you get like this you know.” He grunted, watching you drool as you clung onto him. His free hand reaching down your shorts to rub sweetly at your clit. “Don’t worry baby,” He husked, bringing his lips to your ear with a hum. “I’m gonna make my girl feel so much better.”
You mewled, blinking hazily up at him when his thick fingers dipped inside you. Curling up exactly where you needed them. “Do you want that sweetheart? Want me to cure that needy ache down here?” Your pussy clenched tightly with a whiny cry at the mere sound of his voice in your ear. A shiver raking through your body as you gave him a nod. “Mhm, wan’ it so bad.”
Who was he to tell his girl no? Finding yourself under his warm body with his hips rolling up into yours. Soft babbles and moans falling past your lips as you pulled his broad body close. Each of his lewd whispers sending shocks through your body as you trembled underneath him.
Your toes curled when he reaches to rub at your clit. “You like that sweet girl? Like being stuffed this early in the morning,” he rasped, your mind flooding with nothing but the sound. Letting out a cry as your body rocked back and forth with his thrusts. “Look so pretty under me, so pretty when you’re taking my cock.”
You couldn’t take it. Him in your ear mixed with his cock fucking you deep, it was all too perfect. Nails scratching down his back as your noises got louder. Feeling yourself being brought closer and closer to the edge as he pressed tiny kisses to your delicate neck.
“C’mon sweetheart.. you wanted it bad right? Let go f’ me.” He groaned, watching as you crumbled beneath him in a fit of cries. Pussy spasming being gushing messily onto his cock
“Good girl.. that’s it.” He dragged out, slowly coming to a stop to pump you full of his cum before the day started.
#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami x reader smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader
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Love 119 [Part One]
part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part two] [part three]
pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: workplace tension, constant bickering, fluff (trust me) word count: 2.7k summary: jungwon and you made it a habit to constantly be at each other's throats, especially in the emergency room. while he barked orders, you fired back just as fiercely. but once the doors closed, the tension shifted into a warm intimacy that only you two knew. author's note: self-indulgent fic because i've seen no one writing this trope
The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip behind the skyline when the call came in—an emergency at a construction site on the outskirts of the city.
Jungwon barely had time to glance at his watch before he was in motion, his team falling in line behind him as the sirens wailed and the ambulance tore through the city streets.
Arriving at the site, chaos greeted them. Workers were clustered around a man lying motionless on the ground, his hard hat cracked and discarded nearby, dust and debris littering the air. Jungwon’s jaw tightened, taking in the scene in a flash. This wasn’t good.
“Let’s move,” he barked, his tone sharp but calm, his team already spreading out as they grabbed the necessary equipment from the ambulance.
He strode forward with an authoritative air, his well-built frame and broad shoulders drawing more than a few eyes from the construction workers, some of whom were openly staring at him, their faces filled with a mix of concern and awe.
“Step back, please,” Jungwon said firmly but politely, the workers quickly making way as he knelt down beside the injured man.
His dark hair, just a bit tousled from the rush, caught the light, and the sharp angles of his jawline seemed even more pronounced against the backdrop of the gritty site. His team watched him with admiration; Jungwon always exuded this calm, confident charm that somehow made even the most panicked scenes feel manageable.
Jungwon quickly assessed the man’s condition. The patient was unconscious, his breathing shallow. One of his teammates handed over the stethoscope, and Jungwon listened intently to the faint sounds of the man’s breathing. His brow furrowed.
“Possible head trauma. We’ve got low oxygen saturation,” he muttered under his breath, signaling for the oxygen mask as his hands moved swiftly yet delicately over the man’s body, checking for fractures and injuries.
His every move was precise, commanding attention—not just because of his skill but the way he carried himself. Even in the face of an emergency, he looked collected, like he was born to handle the pressure.
"Jungwon," his teammate called from the side, holding the patient's chart. "No significant external bleeding. We’ve got a weak pulse though, around 130, BP's borderline. We need to get him out of here fast."
Jungwon’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, quickly making a decision. “Let’s secure his airway first and immobilize his spine. We can’t risk any movement.” He made the call as he smoothly slid the oxygen mask onto the patient’s face, adjusting it with a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of the situation. His fingers brushed over the man’s wrist, checking his pulse again. A slight frown creased his forehead.
With practiced ease, his team set up a backboard to stabilize the patient, while Jungwon prepared to radio the hospital. His deep voice echoed through the dust-laden air, crisp and calm. “We’re looking at a possible internal bleed or brain injury—trauma to the head, decreased GCS. Get Y/N on standby. She’ll want to know.”
He tapped his earpiece, dialing straight into the hospital, his tone switching effortlessly into that of a strict professional.
“Y/N,” he started, his voice filled with authority as he spoke into the receiver, “we’ve got a situation here. Male, late twenties, unconscious after a fall from height—GCS is 4. We’ve administered oxygen and immobilized his spine, but he’s unresponsive. Internal injuries are likely.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, before your voice came through, crisp and all business. “Vitals?”
Jungwon rattled off the numbers, his tone growing sharper as he outlined the gravity of the situation. “BP’s dropping fast, pulse is weak, pupils uneven—one’s blown. It’s not looking good.”
“Get him here as fast as you can,” you replied, your voice steady. “We’ll be ready when you arrive. I need him in trauma two for imaging, and you better give me a detailed report when you get here.”
Jungwon rolled his eyes subtly, though no one else could hear his exasperation. “Of course, Doctor. Just make sure the room’s prepped.” His sarcasm was impossible to miss, but before you could retort, he was already motioning for his team to get the stretcher ready.
“Let’s get moving,” he said, standing up in one fluid motion, his wide shoulders casting a shadow over the patient as he signaled for the transfer. His team lifted the man onto the gurney, Jungwon guiding them every step of the way. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was something about the way he commanded the situation—his deep voice, his piercing gaze, the way he moved like a force of nature—that made even a frantic scene seem a little calmer.
Jungwon was the kind of guy people listened to, the kind of guy people looked up to. Even with the weight of the situation hanging over him, he held his head high, taking charge like it was second nature. His team moved quickly, securing the patient in the ambulance as Jungwon gave one last glance to the scene before climbing in.
“Let’s go,” he said firmly, and with the wail of sirens, they sped off toward the hospital.
Jungwon stormed through the emergency room doors with a sense of purpose, his jaw clenched as he guided the gurney toward the trauma bay. “28-year-old male, head trauma, GCS of 4, possible internal bleeding. Move it!” His voice boomed with authority, eyes scanning the room as the ER team sprang into action.
The chaos of the emergency room was nothing new, but today it seemed more charged than usual. The tension was thick as the nurses hurried to get the trauma room prepped, doctors barking orders as they readied themselves. And at the center of it all was you—focused, sharp-eyed, already gloved up and waiting.
The moment Jungwon and his team wheeled the patient in, your eyes met his, a silent exchange of understanding mixed with the tension that always crackled between them in moments like this. Not that anyone would’ve noticed—your constant bickering was practically a feature of every shift.
You stepped forward, your voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Trauma two is open. Let’s get him in fast!”
The team followed your lead, transferring the patient from the gurney to the hospital bed with swift efficiency. Jungwon stayed close, hands still gripping the rails of the stretcher as if he was unwilling to relinquish control.
“You took too long with the vitals report,” you said, throwing him a sharp glance. “We could’ve been in there five minutes ago.”
Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “We did take the vitals. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d know that.”
“Excuse me?” you shot back, your gaze never leaving the patient as you worked to stabilize him. “I don’t need a paramedic trying to tell me how to do my job. We had a plan, and your delay didn’t help.”
Jungwon glared, his voice low and clipped. “Maybe if your plan didn’t waste time on unnecessary scans, we wouldn’t have needed a second round of intubation last time.”
Your hands froze for a split second before you caught yourself. You threw him a withering look. “This again? You think you can waltz in here and play doctor, Jungwon?”
“I’m not playing doctor. I’m trying to make sure you don’t screw it up.” His tone was biting, but professional, and the tension in the room rose instantly.
One of the nurses stepped back, shaking her head. “Here they go again.”
You didn’t back down, leaning closer as you adjusted the IV line. “How about you leave the doctoring to me, and I’ll leave the paramedic work to you? We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Jungwon took a breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, his frustration barely contained. “Fine. Just don’t mess it up.”
“Same to you,” you retorted, not missing a beat.
Before Jungwon could respond, one of the nurses interrupted. “Dr. Y/N, patient’s BP is dropping.”
Instantly, you refocused, the banter dropped as quickly as it had escalated. “Let’s get the trauma panel done. We need to stabilize him before moving for imaging. Prep the fluids.”
Jungwon watched you work, his arms still crossed, but he didn’t say another word. Despite the constant arguing, there was no denying that you are incredible at your job. Even in the most high-pressure situations, you were in complete control.
You worked together in tense silence, the only sounds in the room now the soft beeps of the monitors and the quiet shuffling of the medical team around them. Jungwon’s team lingered just outside, waiting for their next call, though they couldn’t help but glance back inside the room occasionally, accustomed to the combative exchanges between Jungwon and you.
As the patient’s vitals finally stabilized, you took a step back, letting out a quiet breath. “We’re clear to take him to imaging now. Good work, everyone,” you called to the team, your voice steady once more.
Jungwon uncrossed his arms, walking past you toward the door. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.
You narrowed your eyes at his back but said nothing. You didn’t need to. Your argument had run its course for now.
Thirty minutes later, with the patient stable and prepped for surgery, you stepped out of the trauma room, pulling off your gloves. Jungwon was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that same tight-lipped look on his face.
“Everything go okay, or did I miss something else?” he asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
You glared at him. “Yeah, we managed just fine without your commentary, thanks.”
“Good,” Jungwon muttered, pushing himself off the wall and adjusting his jacket. “Maybe next time you won’t waste so much time arguing.”
“Maybe next time you’ll do your job and get out of my way,” you shot back, your voice sharp.
“You love being in control, don’t you?” Jungwon’s eyes glinted, his voice dropping low as he stepped closer. “Can’t handle someone else calling the shots, huh?”
You crossed your arms, your gaze unyielding. “I don’t need to handle anything, least of all you.”
“Trust me, I’m not asking for much,” he replied with a smirk, his voice oozing with challenge.
You scoffed, brushing past him. “Try asking for less.”
Jungwon shook his head with an exasperated sigh as he watched you walk away, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. The others on their teams didn’t even blink. This was just how the both of you were. They were used to it by now—the biting remarks, the challenges, the constant back-and-forth. Every time Jungwon’s ambulance showed up, it was only a matter of time before you and him were at each other’s throats again.
Hours later, the hospital had quieted down. The rush of the afternoon was over, and most of the staff had gone home. You and Jungwon had managed to avoid each other for the rest of your shifts, though your earlier argument still hung in the air like static.
You finally peeled off your gloves after your last appointment and scrubbed your hands clean, your mind replaying the events of the day. You were tired, drained even, but there was something about that last spat with Jungwon that wouldn’t stop gnawing at you. Maybe it was the way he always had a smug retort ready or how he never backed down from your challenges.
Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Annoying paramedic,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing your coat and heading out of the ER.
Your apartment wasn’t far from the hospital, a quiet space tucked away from the noise of the city. By the time you have arrived, your exhaustion had fully settled in, your body craving rest.
You pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of faint rustling from the kitchen.
“Rough day?” a familiar voice asked, soft and warm.
You smiled, the tension from earlier melting away. There, standing in the kitchen in the same paramedic uniform that had driven you crazy just hours ago, was Jungwon. His hair was a little disheveled now, his expression soft and boyish, the strict leader of the paramedic team completely gone.
“You have no idea,” you murmured, walking over to him, your eyes catching on his broad shoulders, still defined under the crisp lines of his uniform. Jungwon turned around, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you see his easy smile, so different from the sharp tone he used at work.
Without another word, Jungwon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. The scent of antiseptic still clung to his uniform, mixed with the faintest hint of his cologne. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt against him, the weight of the day slipping away. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric, and sighed softly.
“You’re lucky I put up with you,” he teased, reaching for your hand and pulling your close. “Even after you yelled at me for no reason.”
“I didn’t yell for no reason,” you protested, but your voice had lost all its sharpness, softened by the warmth of being home. You leaned against his chest, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, maybe I did. But only because you deserved it.”
Jungwon chuckled, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. “Sure, I deserved it. You really hate me that much, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it as you melted into his embrace. “The worst,” you muttered, though your fingers played with the collar of his uniform.
Jungwon smirked, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good thing we’ve got the whole night to make up for it, then.”
“You’re still in your uniform,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, your mind was in chaos. His broad shoulders. The way he held you. The authority he exuded at work seemed to linger here, too, but only just enough to make your heart race.
Jungwon chuckled, his hand moving up to cup the back of your head. “I thought you liked me in uniform.”
You groaned, your cheeks flushing. “Stop it. I’m tired.”
“Liar,” he teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His own softened as he took in your face, the familiar tenderness filling his gaze. “You love it.”
And he wasn’t wrong. As strict and commanding as you could be at work, here with him, you couldn’t help but feel weak in his arms. You were whipped for him in every sense of the word, even if you would never admit it out loud.
Jungwon kissed the top of your head, his earlier bravado fading into a gentle affection. “Come on. Let’s get you out of these scrubs and cuddle.”
You let out a soft laugh, the kind that only he ever got to hear. “You’re the one who’s going to change first. That uniform’s distracting.”
“I knew it,” he grinned, but without missing a beat, he started peeling off his jacket, revealing the tight black undershirt beneath that highlighted his lean muscles. You had to look away before you lost yourself completely.
As you settled onto the couch, your limbs tangled together in the quiet of their apartment, the world outside felt a million miles away. In here, there were no patients to save, no colleagues to impress, no reputations to uphold. It was just the both of you.
Jungwon nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his earlier strictness replaced by a cuteness that only you got to see. “You’re such a pain at work, you know that?”
You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so easy yourself.”
And just like that, the bickering, the tension, all of it faded away. Because here, in your shared apartment, away from the chaos of the ER and the expectations of their coworkers, you were just you and Jungwon—no titles, no arguments. Just two people who loved each other, even if you never let anyone else know.
[part two] [part three]
#jungwon#jungwon fic#jungwon au#enhypen au#enhypen fin#yang jungwon#enha x reader#enha imagines#enhypen jungwon#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#jungwon x you#jungwon x y/n#jungwon drabbles#jungwon fanfic#fanfiction#heeseung#jay#jake#sim jaeyun#fluff#kpop#sunoo#sunghoon#ni ki#niki#jungwon fake texts#jungwon police#jungwon enhypen#enhypen
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Paddock Princess
Formula 1 (literally half the grid) x Vettel!Reader
Summary: when the drivers find out that you’re planning to have a baby all by yourself, they offer to help out by playing sperm roulette … the results are surprisingly wholesome
The buzz of excitement fills the air as the paddock comes to life on a sunny morning. Drivers, team personnel, and media representatives mill about, but there’s a palpable sense of anticipation among a particular group of racers gathered near the Ferrari motorhome.
Max leans against the sleek red structure, his eyes darting around nervously. “Has anyone seen her yet?” He asks, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Charles shakes his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not yet. But she should be here soon, right?”
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Lando chimes in, bouncing on his toes. “It’s like something out of a movie.”
Carlos nods in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “A very strange movie, but I’m here for it.”
George glances at his watch, his brow furrowed. “She’s usually here by now. You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”
“No way,” Oscar says confidently. “You know her. Once she sets her mind to something, that’s it.”
Lewis, standing slightly apart from the younger drivers, offers a reassuring smile. “Oscar’s right. She’s one of the most determined people I know. If this is what she wants, she’ll see it through.”
Logan, the newest addition to the group, shifts nervously. “I still can’t believe you guys talked me into this. My mom would freak if she knew.”
Alex pats him on the shoulder. “Relax, mate. It’s all anonymous, remember? Besides, think of how happy she’ll be.”
Fernando, leaning against a nearby barrier, nods sagely. “Exactly. We’re doing this for her, because she deserves it.”
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, suddenly straightens up. “Heads up, guys. I think I see her coming.”
The group falls silent as you approach, your press pass swinging from your neck and a warm smile on your face. “Morning, boys,” you greet them cheerfully. “Why do you all look like you’re up to something?”
Max clears his throat, trying to sound casual. “Us? Never. Just, uh, enjoying the nice weather.”
You raise an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you’re all gathered here by pure coincidence?”
Charles steps forward, his charm on full display. “Can’t we just be happy to see our favorite reporter?”
You laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Alright, alright. I’ll play along. But seriously, what’s going on? You’re all acting weird.”
The drivers exchange glances, silently debating who should speak first. Finally, Lewis takes the lead.
“We heard about your decision,” he says gently. “About wanting to have a baby.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh. I didn’t realize ... I mean, I only told a couple of people.”
Lando grins sheepishly. “Word travels fast in the paddock. Especially when it’s about you.”
You look around at the group, a mix of emotions playing across your face. “Okay, so you know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all acting like you’re planning a heist.”
Carlos steps forward, his expression earnest. “We want to help.”
You blink, confusion evident in your eyes. “Help? How?”
George takes a deep breath before plunging in. “We’ve all agreed to donate sperm. To give you options, you know?”
Your jaw drops, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “You ... what?”
Oscar jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We know you said you were thinking about using a sperm bank, but we thought, well, why not use someone you actually know?”
“And trust,” Alex adds quickly.
You look around at the group, your expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something that might be amusement. “Let me get this straight. All of you,” you gesture at the assembled drivers, “want to donate sperm so I can have a baby?”
They nod in unison, and you can’t help but laugh. “This is ... I don’t even know what to say. It’s incredibly sweet, but also completely insane.”
Fernando steps forward, his expression serious. “We know it’s unconventional. But you’re important to all of us. We want to support you in any way we can.”
You shake your head, still trying to process the situation. “I appreciate that, truly. But guys, this is a huge decision. It’s not just about me having a baby. One of you would be a father.”
Max nods, his face set in determination. “We’ve thought about that. A lot, actually.”
“And we’re okay with it,” Lando adds. “Whatever level of involvement you want, we’ll respect that.”
You look at them, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Wait a minute. How exactly would this work? I can’t exactly pick one of you. That would be ...”
“Awkward,” Lance finishes for you. “We know. That’s why we came up with a plan.”
Logan, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “We’d all donate, and then the clinic would mix the samples together.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “So it would be like ... artificial insemination roulette?”
Carlos grins. “Exactly! That way, no one knows who the father is. It could be any of us.”
You shake your head, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “This is absolutely crazy. You know that, right?”
Lewis steps closer, his expression gentle. “Maybe. But we all care about you. We want you to be happy, and we know how much you want this.”
You look around at the group, taking in their earnest expressions. “I don’t know what to say. This is ... a lot to process.”
George nods understandingly. “Of course it is. We don’t expect you to decide right now. Just ... think about it, okay?”
You nod slowly, still looking a bit dazed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But guys, this is a huge thing you’re offering. Are you sure you’ve really thought it through?”
Alex speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “We have. We’ve talked about it a lot, actually. We know it’s not a decision to make lightly.”
“But we’re all in agreement,” Oscar adds. “If this is what you want, we want to help make it happen.”
You take a deep breath, looking around at the group. “I need some time to think about this. It’s ... a lot to take in.”
Max nods, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”
As you turn to walk away, still looking a bit shell-shocked, the drivers watch you go with a mix of hope and anxiety.
“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Lando asks, nervously fidgeting with his sleeve.
Charles shrugs, his eyes still following your retreating figure. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.”
“We’ve done our part,” Fernando says sagely. “Now it’s up to her.”
The group falls into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the potential consequences of their offer.
Several days pass, and the paddock is abuzz with speculation. The drivers have managed to keep their offer under wraps, but your contemplative mood hasn’t gone unnoticed.
You find yourself cornered by the group once again, this time in a quiet corner of the paddock after qualifying.
“So,” Max says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Have you, uh, given any thought to our offer?”
You look around at the expectant faces surrounding you and take a deep breath. “I have, actually. I’ve thought about little else, to be honest.”
The tension in the air is palpable as they wait for your decision.
“I’m still not sure this is the right thing to do,” you begin, and you can see their faces fall. “But ... I can’t deny that the idea has a certain appeal.”
Hope blossoms in their expressions, and you can’t help but smile at their eagerness.
“Before I say yes,” you continue, holding up a hand to stave off their excitement, “I need to know that you’ve all really thought this through. This isn’t just about me having a baby. One of you will be a father, even if we don’t know which one.”
Lewis nods solemnly. “We understand. We’ve talked about it a lot, believe me.”
“And you’re all okay with the possibility of having a child out there that you might never know is yours?” You press.
They exchange glances before nodding in unison.
“We know it’s not a conventional situation,” Charles says. “But we’re all willing to accept whatever comes of this.”
You look at each of them in turn, searching their faces for any sign of doubt. Finding none, you take a deep breath.
“Okay,” you say finally. “If you’re all sure about this ... then yes. I’d be honored to accept your offer.”
The reaction is immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupt from the group, and before you know it, you’re engulfed in a group hug.
“This is going to be amazing,” Lando exclaims, his face lit up with excitement.
“You’re going to be an incredible mother,” Alex adds, his smile warm and sincere.
As the excitement dies down, practical considerations start to surface.
“So, how do we do this?” Oscar asks. “Do we all just show up at the clinic or ...”
You can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “I think it might be best if we handle this discreetly. I’ll talk to the clinic and set everything up. They can give you instructions on how to make your ... contributions.”
George nods, looking relieved. “That sounds like a good plan. We don’t want this getting out to the media.”
“Agreed,” you say firmly. “This stays between us. No one else needs to know the details.”
The group nods in agreement, and you feel a wave of affection for these men who are willing to go to such lengths for you.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you say, shaking your head in wonder.
Fernando smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Believe it. In a few months, you could be on your way to motherhood.”
The reality of the situation starts to sink in, and you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”
“Change can be good,” Carlos says, giving you a reassuring smile. “And you won’t be alone. We’ll all be here to support you.”
You look around at the group, feeling overwhelmed by their support and affection. “Thank you. All of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.”
Max grins, lightening the mood. “Well, naming the kid after me would be a good start.”
The group erupts in laughter, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Nice try, Verstappen. But I think we’ll be steering clear of any names that might give away paternity.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the group. The magnitude of what you’ve all agreed to hangs in the air, but it’s accompanied by a sense of excitement and possibility.
“So,” Lance says, breaking the silence. “I guess the next step is to set up appointments at the clinic?”
You nod, feeling a flutter of nervous excitement in your stomach. “Yeah, I’ll get that sorted out and let you all know the details.”
“And then ...” Logan trails off, looking a bit overwhelmed.
“And then we wait,” Lewis finishes for him. “And hope for the best.”
You look around at the group of men surrounding you, each one ready to potentially become a father for your sake. It’s an unconventional situation, to say the least, but as you take in their supportive smiles and excited eyes, you can’t help but feel that you’re embarking on something truly special.
“Well, boys,” you say, a smile spreading across your face. “I guess we’re really doing this. Let Operation Make A Baby commence.”
***
The hospital waiting room crackles with nervous energy as eleven Formula 1 drivers pace, fidget, and attempt to distract themselves. The air is thick with anticipation, and every time the door opens, heads snap up in unison, hoping for news.
Max runs a hand through his hair for the hundredth time. “How long has it been now?” He asks, his voice tight with tension.
George checks his watch. “About six hours since we got here. But labor can take a while, especially for first-time mothers.”
“I still can’t believe this is really happening,” Lando says, his leg bouncing incessantly. “One of us is about to become a father.”
Charles nods, his eyes fixed on the door. “It’s surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.”
“Not a dream, mate,” Alex says, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Very much real.”
The door swings open, and a nurse steps out. The drivers collectively hold their breath, but she merely smiles apologetically and heads down the hallway.
Carlos groans. “This waiting is killing me. How are we supposed to just sit here?”
“We could place bets on who the father is,” Logan suggests with a nervous laugh.
Lewis shakes his head, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We agreed we wouldn’t try to figure it out, remember?”
“Lewis is right,” Fernando says sagely. “What matters is that the baby and the mother are healthy.”
Oscar nods in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all in this together, regardless of biology.”
Lance, who’s been quietly observing until now, speaks up. “Do you think she’s scared? I mean, we’re all nervous wrecks out here, and we’re not the ones giving birth.”
The group falls silent, contemplating Lance’s words. It’s a sobering thought, reminding them of the magnitude of what’s happening just beyond those doors.
“She’s strong,” Max says finally, his voice filled with admiration. “Stronger than all of us put together. She’ll be fine.”
As if on cue, the door swings open again, and this time, a doctor steps out. The drivers scramble to their feet, forming a semicircle around her.
“Gentlemen,” the doctor says, a smile playing at her lips. “I’m happy to inform you that both mother and baby are doing well. It’s a healthy baby girl.”
A collective cheer erupts from the group, followed by a flurry of hugs and backslaps. The tension that’s been building for hours finally breaks, replaced by jubilant relief.
“When can we see them?” Charles asks eagerly.
The doctor holds up a hand. “The mother is resting now, but she’s asked to see you all in about an hour. She wants you to meet the baby together.”
As the doctor leaves, the drivers look at each other, a mix of excitement and nerves on their faces.
“A girl,” Lando says, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “We have a daughter.”
“She has a daughter,” Lewis gently corrects. “We’re ... well, I’m not sure what we are exactly.”
“We’re family,” Fernando says firmly. “All of us and the little one.”
The next hour passes in a blur of excited chatter and speculation. Finally, a nurse appears to escort them to the private room where you and the baby are waiting.
As they file into the room, the sight that greets them renders them momentarily speechless. You’re propped up in the bed, looking tired but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.
You look up as they enter, a soft smile on your face. “Hey, guys. Come meet your daughter.”
The drivers approach cautiously, as if afraid they might break the spell. You adjust the blanket, revealing a tiny face with rosebud lips and a button nose.
“She’s beautiful,” Max breathes, his eyes wide with wonder.
“She’s perfect,” Charles adds, his voice choked with emotion.
You beam at them, your eyes shining. “Want to hold her?”
After a moment of hesitation, Lewis steps forward. With practiced ease, he gently takes the baby from you, cradling her carefully in his arms.
“Hello, little one,” he coos softly. “Welcome to the world.”
The other drivers crowd around, each wanting a closer look. As Lewis passes the baby to Carlos, the scrutiny intensifies.
“Is it just me, or does she have Max’s nose?” Lando asks, peering closely at the tiny face.
Max leans in, his brow furrowed. “I don’t see it. But those ears ... they look like yours, Lando.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Boys, she’s about one hour old. I think it’s a bit early to be playing guess the father, don’t you?”
The drivers have the grace to look sheepish, but their curiosity is far from satisfied.
As the baby is passed from driver to driver, the observations continue.
“She has a strong grip,” Alex notes as tiny fingers wrap around his thumb. “Definitely going to be a racer.”
“Look at those long eyelashes,” Oscar marvels. “Those have to be from Charles.”
Charles preens a bit at this, while the others roll their eyes good-naturedly.
When it’s Fernando’s turn to hold the baby, he studies her with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think she has your smile.”
You raise an eyebrow. “She hasn’t even smiled yet.”
He shakes his head, a mysterious smile on his face. “Trust me. I can tell.”
As the baby makes her way back to you, the drivers settle into chairs around the room, their eyes never leaving the tiny bundle.
“So,” George says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you thought about names?”
You nod, looking down at your daughter. “I have, actually. I was thinking ... Nessa. It means miracle. I thought it was fitting, given how she came into our lives.”
“Nessa,” Logan repeats, testing the name. “I like it. It’s beautiful.”
The others murmur their agreement, and you feel a wave of relief. Naming a baby is hard enough without having to consider the opinions of eleven potential fathers.
“Nessa it is, then,” you say, smiling down at the sleeping infant.
Lance, who’s been quiet until now, speaks up. “Can I ask ... how are you feeling? About all of this, I mean.”
You take a moment to consider the question. “Honestly? I’m overwhelmed. Excited, terrified, grateful ... all at once. But mostly, I’m just in awe. Of her, of this whole situation, of all of you.”
The drivers exchange glances, a mix of emotions playing across their faces.
“We’re the ones who should be in awe of you,” Carlos says softly. “You’ve given us an incredible gift.”
“He’s right,” Max adds. “No matter which one of us is her biological father, we’re all going to love her. And you.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you. All of you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
As if sensing the emotional moment, Nessa chooses that moment to wake up, her tiny face scrunching up as she lets out a wail.
“Oh boy,” Lando says, his eyes wide. “That’s quite a set of lungs she’s got there.”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa in your arms. “Well, she is a paddock baby. Got to make herself heard over those engines somehow.”
As you soothe the baby, the drivers watch in fascination. It’s clear that despite their earlier bravado, the reality of a newborn is a bit daunting.
“So, uh, what happens now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look up from Nessa, who’s settled back into sleep. “Well, we’ll be here for a couple more days. After that ... I guess we figure it out as we go along.”
Lewis nods thoughtfully. “We’ll need to work out a schedule. Make sure you have support, especially during race weekends.”
“And we’ll need to baby-proof our garages,” Alex adds. “Can’t have her crawling into a stack of tires.”
The conversation turns to practical matters — childcare arrangements, safety considerations, and how to balance their racing careers with their new roles as ... well, whatever they are to Nessa.
As they talk, you can’t help but marvel at the scene. Eleven of the world’s most elite drivers, discussing diaper brands and the merits of various baby carriers with the same intensity they usually reserve for tire strategies and aerodynamics.
“You know,” you say, interrupting a heated debate about the best brand of baby formula, “I think Nessa might be the luckiest baby in the world.”
The drivers pause, looking at you quizzically.
You smile, looking around at each of them. “She’s got eleven of the most dedicated, passionate, and competitive men in the world looking out for her. Plus, she’s guaranteed to have the coolest bring your parent to school day ever.”
The room erupts in laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking.
“Just wait until she’s old enough to drive,” Max says with a grin. “We’ll have her in a kart before she can walk.”
“Oh no,” you groan, though you’re smiling. “I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”
“Eleven monsters,” Charles corrects with a wink. “Don’t forget, we’re all in this together.”
As the laughter dies down, a comfortable silence falls over the room. Nessa sleeps peacefully in your arms, blissfully unaware of the extraordinary circumstances of her birth and the unique family she’s been born into.
Fernando breaks the silence. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “in many ways, this little one embodies the spirit of Formula 1.”
The others look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Think about it,” he continues. “She’s the product of competition, of pushing boundaries, of taking risks. But she’s also about teamwork, about coming together for a common goal. Just like us on the track.”
The drivers nod, considering Fernando’s words.
“Plus,” Logan adds with a grin, “she’s already got a better sleep schedule than most of us during a race weekend.”
Another round of laughter fills the room, and you feel a surge of affection for these men who have become so much more than colleagues or even friends.
As visiting hours come to an end and the nurses start to shoo the drivers out, there’s a reluctance to leave. Each of them takes a moment to say goodbye to Nessa, promising to return soon.
Before they go, Lewis gathers everyone into a tight circle around your bed.
“I think we need to make a pact,” he says solemnly. “No matter what happens, no matter how our careers go or how life changes, we stick together for Nessa. She’s part of all of us now.”
The drivers nod in agreement, their faces serious.
“For Nessa,” Max says, placing his hand in the center of the circle.
One by one, the others follow suit, until all eleven hands are stacked together.
“For Nessa,” they chorus, and in that moment, you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you and your daughter will never face them alone.
As the drivers file out, casting longing glances back at the sleeping baby, you settle back against your pillows, exhausted but content.
Looking down at Nessa’s peaceful face, you whisper, “Welcome to the world, little one. You’ve got quite the adventure ahead of you.”
And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but smile at the thought of the unconventional but loving family waiting just outside those hospital doors, ready to take on the world for the tiny girl in your arms.
***
The paddock rushes with activity as teams prepare for the upcoming race weekend. But between the usual hustle and bustle, an unusual sight catches everyone’s attention: you, pushing a stroller with a now six-month-old Nessa, surrounded by a protective circle of drivers.
Max hovers close, his eyes darting around warily. “Are you sure this was a good idea? Bringing her to the track?”
You laugh, adjusting Nessa’s sun hat. “Max, she’s been coming to races since she was born. This is nothing new.”
“Yeah, but now she’s old enough to attract attention,” Charles points out, cooing at Nessa as she gurgles happily.
Lando nods in agreement. “People are starting to ask questions. Did you see that article in Autosport last week?”
You sigh, remembering the speculative piece about Nessa’s parentage. “I saw it. But we knew this day would come eventually.”
As the group makes their way through the paddock, heads turn and whispers follow. The sight of eleven of the world’s top drivers fawning over one baby is certainly not an everyday occurrence.
Carlos leans in, speaking softly. “Maybe we should have come up with a cover story. You know, pick one of us to pretend to be the father.”
George shakes his head. “No, we agreed from the start — no lies. We’re all in this together, remember?”
“Easier said than done,” Logan mutters, noticing a group of journalists eyeing them curiously.
As they approach the Mercedes garage, Lewis spots a familiar face and freezes. “Uh, guys? We might have a problem.”
The others follow his gaze to see your older brother, striding purposefully towards the group. His expression is a mix of confusion and growing anger.
“Seb!” You exclaim, trying to sound casual. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Switzerland.”
Sebastian ignores your greeting, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. “What’s going on here?” He demands, his gaze sweeping over the assembled drivers.
The group exchanges nervous glances, each silently hoping someone else will take the lead.
Finally, Fernando steps forward, ever the diplomat. “Sebastian, my friend. It’s good to see you. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere more private?”
But Sebastian is having none of it. His eyes lock onto Lewis, who instinctively takes a step back. “Lewis?” He says, his voice dangerously quiet. “Care to explain why you and half the grid are hovering around my sister and a baby?”
Lewis swallows hard, looking to the others for support. Finding none, he takes a deep breath. “Seb, it’s not what you think. Well, it is, but also it isn’t. You see-”
“Lewis?” Sebastian explodes, his face reddening. “I thought better of you!”
The outburst draws even more attention, and you can see team personnel and journalists alike straining to hear what’s happening.
Lewis, caught off guard by Sebastian’s reaction, blurts out, “In my defense, I thought I would get to fuck her!”
A collective gasp goes up from the group, and you bury your face in your hands, mortified.
Sebastian’s eyes widen in shock and fury. “Tha- what? How would that make it better?”
Realizing his mistake, Lewis backpedals frantically. “No, no, that came out wrong! I didn’t mean-”
But Sebastian is beyond listening. He lunges forward, only to be held back by Alex and Oscar.
“Let me go!” Sebastian growls, struggling against their grip. “I’m going to kill him!”
Nessa, startled by the commotion, begins to cry. The sound seems to snap everyone back to reality.
“Enough!” You shout, your voice cutting through the chaos. “All of you, into the motorhome. Now!”
Chastened, the drivers file into the nearby Red Bull motorhome, with Alex and Oscar still keeping a firm grip on Sebastian. You follow, pushing Nessa’s stroller and trying to soothe her.
Once inside, with the door firmly closed against prying eyes and ears, you turn to face the group. Sebastian stands at one end, still glaring daggers at Lewis, who’s wisely put Max and Charles between them.
“Alright,” you say, your voice tight with frustration. “I guess it’s time we explained everything.”
Over the next hour, you and the drivers take turns recounting the story — from your decision to have a baby, to their unconventional offer, to Nessa’s birth and the months since. Sebastian listens in stunned silence, his expression cycling through disbelief, confusion, and finally, grudging understanding.
When the tale is finished, Sebastian slumps into a chair, running a hand over his face. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You,” he points at you, “decided to have a baby on your own. And you lot,” he gestures at the drivers, “thought the best solution was to play some kind of ... paternity lottery?”
Lance nods hesitantly. “When you put it like that, it does sound a bit mad.”
“A bit?” Sebastian laughs incredulously. “It’s completely insane!”
“But it worked,” Carlos points out, gently rocking Nessa, who has calmed down and is now contentedly chewing on his finger. “Look at her, Seb. She’s perfect.”
Sebastian’s expression softens as he looks at his niece. “She is beautiful,” he admits. Then, turning back to the group, he adds sternly, “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you all took advantage of my sister!”
“They didn’t take advantage of me,” you interject firmly. “This was my choice. They were just ... supporting me.”
“By offering to impregnate you?” Sebastian retorts, his protective big brother instincts in full force.
George steps forward, his expression earnest. “Sebastian, I know how this looks. But we care about your sister. All of us. We just wanted to help make her dream come true.”
“And create the world’s most confusing family tree in the process,” Logan mutters, earning a sharp elbow from Lando.
Sebastian sighs, looking around at the assembled drivers. “I still can’t believe you all agreed to this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? The media frenzy when this gets out?”
Fernando shrugs philosophically. “Life is full of challenges. This is just another one.”
“Easy for you to say,” Max grumbles. “You’re basically past retirement age. Some of us still have our whole careers ahead of us.”
The room falls silent as the reality of their situation sinks in. The secret they’ve managed to keep for over a year is on the verge of exploding into the public eye.
“So what do we do now?” Oscar asks, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
You look down at Nessa, who’s drifted off to sleep in Carlos’ arms, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “We tell the truth,” you say firmly. “Or at least, as much of it as we’re comfortable sharing.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly does that mean?”
Lewis, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet since his earlier outburst, speaks up. “We could say that we all agreed to help you have a child, but keep the details private. No need to mention the ... um, method.”
“You mean the part where you thought you would get to fuck her?” Sebastian growls, causing Lewis to wince.
“I really am sorry about that,” Lewis says sheepishly. “It came out all wrong.”
You shake your head, exasperated. “Focus, boys. We need a plan.”
Over the next hour, the group hashes out a strategy. They decide to release a joint statement explaining that you had chosen to become a single mother, and that the drivers, as your close friends, had offered their support. The exact nature of that support would remain private.
As they finalize the details, Sebastian watches the interactions with growing amazement. The way the drivers instinctively work together, finishing each other’s sentences and anticipating potential issues, speaks to a bond that goes beyond mere friendship or even shared paternity.
“You know,” he says finally, interrupting a debate about whether to use the phrase ‘unconventional family’ in their statement, “I think I owe you all an apology.”
The room falls silent, all eyes turning to Sebastian.
He continues, his voice softer now. “I reacted badly earlier. But seeing you all now, how you’ve come together for my sister and for Nessa ... it’s actually kind of beautiful.”
You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you move to hug your brother. “Thank you, Seb. That means a lot.”
As you pull away, Sebastian turns to address the group. “But let me make one thing clear,” he says, his tone becoming stern once more. “If any of you ever hurt my sister or my niece, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?”
The drivers nod solemnly, a mixture of respect and residual fear in their eyes.
“Good,” Sebastian says, a small smile finally breaking through. “Now, who’s going to let me hold my niece?”
As Carlos carefully transfers the sleeping Nessa to Sebastian’s arms, the tension in the room finally dissipates. Watching your brother coo over your daughter, surrounded by the unconventional family you’ve built, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.
“Well,” Lando says, breaking the moment, “I guess the hardest part’s over. Now we just have to explain this to the rest of the world.”
Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Mate, I think that might actually be the easy part. It’s raising her that’s going to be the real challenge.”
As the group dissolves into laughter, discussing potential future scenarios (“Who’s going to teach her to drive?” “All of us, obviously!” “God help us all.”), you can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful turn your life has taken.
Looking around at the men who have become so much more than colleagues or friends — who have become family in the truest sense of the word — you know that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. And really, with a support system like this, how can you possibly fail?
As the laughter and chatter continue around you, Nessa stirs in Sebastian’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out. Without hesitation, eleven hands reach back, each driver gently touching a finger or offering a thumb for her to grasp.
In that moment, watching the most competitive men in motorsport melt over one tiny girl, you know that no matter what the future holds, Nessa will never lack for love, support, or, undoubtedly, speed.
***
The sun beats down on the jam-packed karting track, the air thick with the scent of fuel and the buzz of excitement. Amid the crowd of nervous parents and eager young racers, one group stands out: eleven men, a mix of current and former Formula 1 drivers, clustered around a small kart where an eight-year-old girl sits, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her face a mask of determination.
“Remember, Nessa,” Max says, kneeling beside the kart to look the girl in the eye, “smooth on the throttle, late on the brakes.”
Charles leans in from the other side. “But not too late, mon chou. You don’t want to lock up in the corners.”
“And watch your lines,” Lewis adds, adjusting Nessa’s helmet. “The racing line isn’t always the optimal when you’re being pressured.”
Nessa nods solemnly, taking in every word. “I know, I know. We’ve been over this a million times.”
Lando grins, ruffling her hair. “That’s our girl. You’ve got this, kiddo.”
Around them, other parents and children stare in disbelief. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people recognize the famous faces surrounding the young racer.
“Is that really Lewis Hamilton?” One mother hisses to her husband.
“And Max Verstappen!” The man replies, his eyes wide. “What are they doing here?”
A nearby father shakes his head in amazement. “I heard rumors about that kid, but I didn’t believe them. How can she have so many ... well, fathers?”
Meanwhile, you stand slightly apart from the group, watching the scene with a mix of pride and amusement. Your brother sidles up beside you.
“You know,” he says with a wry smile, “when I imagined my niece’s first race, I didn’t quite picture this circus.”
You laugh, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh come on, you love it. Besides, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”
As if to prove your point, Sebastian’s eyes narrow as he spots Carlos making a last-minute adjustment to Nessa’s kart. “Hey!” He calls out, striding over. “What are you doing to her suspension?”
Carlos looks up, startled. “Just a small tweak. The track’s a bit bumpy on turn three.”
“It’s fine as it is,” George interjects, crouching down to inspect the kart. “Any softer and she’ll lose responsiveness in the chicane.”
“Actually,” Fernando chimes in, “a slight adjustment might help. But not too much, Carlos.”
As the debate over suspension settings intensifies, Alex notices Nessa’s growing nervousness. He kneels beside her, speaking softly. “Hey, little racer. How are you feeling?”
Nessa bites her lip, her eyes darting between her arguing fathers and the other young racers preparing for the race. “What if I let them down?” She whispers. “They’re all so excited.”
Alex’s expression softens. “Oh, Nessa. You could never let us down. We’re proud of you no matter what happens out there.”
“He’s right,” Oscar adds, overhearing the conversation. “We’re here because we love you, not because we expect you to win.”
“Although winning would be nice,” Logan quips, earning a chorus of groans and eye-rolls from the others.
“What Logan means,” Lance says, shooting a glare at his fellow driver, “is that we want you to do your best and, most importantly, have fun.”
Nessa nods, a small smile finally breaking through her nervous expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”
As the call comes for racers to take their positions, the group reluctantly steps back, allowing Nessa to maneuver her kart to the starting line. You move forward, leaning in to give your daughter a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Remember,” you say softly, “you’re amazing, no matter what happens out there. And we love you more than anything.”
Nessa beams at you, her earlier nerves seeming to melt away. “I love you too. And all my dads,” she adds with a giggle, looking at the assembled drivers.
As you step back to join the others, the atmosphere around you changes. The playful bickering and nervous energy give way to a focused intensity that you recognize from countless race weekends. Eleven pairs of eyes are locked on the small figure in the pink and white kart, second row on the starting grid.
The lights begin their sequence, and you can almost feel the collective intake of breath from the men around you. Green! The karts surge forward, and Nessa makes a good start, holding her position into the first corner.
“That’s it, ma princesse!” Charles cheers, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hold your line!”
“Watch your inside on turn two,” Max mutters, as if Nessa could hear him. “There’s space if you need it.”
As the race progresses, the commentary from the drivers becomes a constant stream, analyzing every move, every overtake, every defensive maneuver. Other parents cast bewildered glances their way, clearly overwhelmed by the level of scrutiny being applied to what they had assumed would be a casual children’s race.
Midway through the race, Nessa makes a bold move, diving down the inside of the leader into a tight hairpin. The karts touch slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like both might spin.
“Steady!” Lewis calls out, his body tensing as if he could somehow influence the outcome through sheer will.
But Nessa manages to control the kart, emerging from the corner in the lead as the other driver runs wide.
The group erupts in cheers, their earlier promises of “it’s not about winning” seemingly forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Did you see that move?” Lando exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement. “That was pure Norris!”
“Excuse me,” Charles interjects, a proud grin on his face, “I think you mean pure Leclerc. That finesse under pressure? All Ferrari.”
“Oh please,” George scoffs good-naturedly. “That was clearly a Russell special. Calculated risk with perfect execution.”
As the friendly argument over whose racing style Nessa has inherited continues, Sebastian leans in close to you. “You know,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and resignation, “I’m starting to think we created a monster.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, we definitely did. But look how happy they all are.”
Indeed, as you watch the men who have become your family over the past eight years, you’re struck by the pure joy radiating from them. Their focus is entirely on Nessa, their own achievements and rivalries forgotten in their shared pride for this little girl who has somehow become the center of their world.
As the final lap approaches, Nessa is still in the lead, but with another driver close on her tail. The tension among the group reaches fever pitch.
“Come on, Nessa,” Fernando murmurs, his eyes never leaving the track. “You’ve got this. Stay focused.”
“Defend the inside line,” Carlos advises, as if she could hear him. “Don’t give them any space.”
The last corner approaches, and the second-place kart makes a desperate lunge for the inside line. For a moment, it looks like Nessa might be overtaken at the last second.
“No, no, no,” Alex mutters, his hands clenched into fists.
But Nessa holds her nerve, taking a slightly wider line and using her momentum to slingshot out of the corner and across the finish line, just ahead of her rival.
The eruption of cheers from the group of F1 drivers drowns out even the sound of the karts. They jump, hug each other, and pump their fists in the air as if Nessa had just won the World Drivers’ Championship.
As Nessa brings her kart to a stop in the pit area, she’s immediately surrounded by her fathers, each clamoring to be the first to congratulate her.
“That was incredible, little love!” Lewis exclaims, helping her out of the kart.
“You drove like a champion,” Max adds, his face split by an enormous grin.
“I’m so proud of you, mon petit champion,” Charles says, pulling her into a tight hug.
The other parents watch in amazement as Nessa is passed from one racing legend to another, each offering praise, analysis, and suggestions for improvement in equal measure.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” one father mutters to his wife. “How is this fair? That kid has a whole F1 pit crew!”
His wife shushes him, but nods in agreement, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold.
Meanwhile, you make your way through the crowd of excited drivers to reach your daughter. As you approach, the men part to let you through, their chatter dying down.
You kneel in front of Nessa, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” You ask softly.
Nessa’s face breaks into a wide grin. “That was amazing! Did you see when I overtook on the hairpin? And the last corner, I thought for sure he was going to pass me, but I remembered what Papa Fernando said about late apexes, and it worked!”
You laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I saw it all, baby. You were incredible.”
As you release her, Nessa looks around at the circle of beaming faces surrounding her. “Did I make you proud?” She asks, a hint of her earlier nervousness returning.
“Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sebastian says, ruffling her hair affectionately.
“You exceeded all our expectations,” Fernando adds with a warm smile.
“And trust me,” Lando chimes in with a wink, “our expectations were pretty high to begin with.”
As Nessa basks in the praise and attention of her unconventional family, a race official approaches, looking slightly overwhelmed.
“Excuse me,” he says hesitantly, “but we need to do the podium ceremony now.”
The drivers reluctantly step back, allowing Nessa to follow the official to the makeshift podium. As she takes her place on the top step, her face beaming with pride, you find yourself surrounded by eleven grown men, each looking as proud as if they had just won a world championship themselves.
“You know,” Oscar says softly, his eyes never leaving Nessa as she receives her trophy, “I think we might be in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, turning to look at him.
He grins, a mixture of pride and mock fear in his eyes. “If she’s this good at eight, can you imagine what she’ll be like at eighteen? We might be out of jobs.”
The group chuckles, but there’s a note of truth in Oscar’s words. As you watch Nessa on the podium, her small hands raised in triumph, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this extraordinary little girl with her eleven F1 driver fathers.
But for now, as the sound of applause fills the air and you see the pure joy on Nessa’s face, you push those thoughts aside. There will be time enough for worrying about the future later. For now, you’re content to bask in this moment of triumph, surrounded by the most unconventional and wonderful family you could have ever imagined.
As Nessa runs back to the group, her trophy clutched tightly in her hands, she’s enveloped in a group hug that threatens to lift her off her feet. And in that moment, watching the pure love and pride radiating from these men who have given your daughter so much more than just their DNA, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, Nessa will always have the strongest support system imaginable.
After all, with her fathers in her corner, how can she possibly fail?
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#carlos sainz x reader#fernando alonso x reader#lance stroll x reader#logan sargeant x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris imagine
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Haze
Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.
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WC- 8k
warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe
“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.
She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.
Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.
Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.
"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.
“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”
Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.
"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."
Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.
“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”
Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."
He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.
“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”
Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”
Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."
He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.
"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.
Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”
Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.
"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"
“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”
His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.
"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."
Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”
Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.
Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.
"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.
“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.
"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.
“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.
As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.
"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”
Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.
Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.
"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."
“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”
Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.
The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."
“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.
He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.
“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”
Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."
“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”
The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.
"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"
“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”
Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.
"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”
“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.
Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."
“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”
Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.
"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.
"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"
“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”
It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.
Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.
"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”
“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.
Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.
His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.
“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”
Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."
Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.
“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.
Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.
"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."
“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.
“You smell really good.”
Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.
"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.
In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.
The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.
Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”
Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.
"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.
“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”
Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.
The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.
“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”
Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"
Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”
“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”
Both. It was absolutely both.
Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.
"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.
"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."
“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.
"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.
Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.
Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.
Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.
"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.
He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”
Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.
Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.
Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.
"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.
“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”
Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.
"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"
“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.
Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.
"Let me show you."
He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.
Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.
She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.
Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."
Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.
Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.
“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”
Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.
"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”
“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”
Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.
"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.
Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.
“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”
The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”
Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.
"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."
Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.
Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.
"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."
The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.
Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.
"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."
He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.
“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.
Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.
"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."
Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.
“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.
Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.
"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."
The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.
Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.
"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.
It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.
“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.
Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.
Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."
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absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff
I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)
( part 1 )
Max Verstappen
You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.
After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.
A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.
“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.
You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.
“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.
“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.
"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."
You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.
“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.
Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."
You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.
“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.
"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."
Lewis Hamilton
The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.
Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.
He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.
Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.
He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.
Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.
How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?
But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-
The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing?
"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.
His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."
You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.
Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."
You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."
You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace.
"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."
"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.
"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.
“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”
Carlos Sainz
As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.
For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.
In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.
Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.
How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.
You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like���"
Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"
You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.
Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.
You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.
Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them.
Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.
Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.
"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."
His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.
"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."
Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."
As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.
In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.
And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.
Charles Leclerc
Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.
"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"
Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while."
You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."
You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."
You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"
Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."
You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.
"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."
Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.
You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.
You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.
It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.
"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.
Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.
"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.
Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.
Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."
You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"
Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her."
"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."
You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"
Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."
He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.
Lando Norris
As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.
Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.
You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.
"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."
His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.
"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.
Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.
"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.
"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."
His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.
With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."
( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
#★ : my work !#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#f1 angst#f1 fluff#hurt/comfort
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Death of a Love Affair
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t.
Warning: angst with no happy ending
A/n: this felt oddly personal to me this is my first time writing in the Y/N perspective and in a one shot format so please be kind. I kinda left a possibly for p2, not sure about that yet, but let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!
Main masterlist || Part 2A (happy end) || Part 2B (sad end)
The first time it happened, you completely understood.
You had an inkling as to what you were getting into when you started dating a 187 genius who graduated at a young age and who was scouted straight from college by the FBI. It wasn’t hard to comprehend these external circumstances mixed with his internal need to prove himself worthy of belonging with the big boys would result in missed personal events. It was a given, you expected it.
You just didn’t count on him missing your graduation. After all, he gave his word that he’ll be there to see you walk the stage and receive your diploma. He promised you and yet, as you scanned the crowd of loved ones hugging the attendees, there was no sign of his tie wearing, button up lithe form weaving through the crowd, no sign of his slicked hair, meticulously tucked behind his ears and no sign his doe eyed hazel eyes shining with pride as you joined the ranks of adulthood and unemployment.
You reach for your phone, now finally free from the nerves and adrenaline of going up the stage, with a single unread message from the one you wished to be here with you.
I’m sorry, angel. There’s a case and Gideon needs me.
You sighed with a mild smile sprouting on your glossed lips as you sent back a reply.
No worries! We can celebrate when you get back. Be safe, I love you.
“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you!” Your mom exclaimed, reaching for a hug. “You graduated and with so many achievements—I mean look at all these cords hanging around your neck!”
You laughed as you stepped out from her warm embrace and watched joyful tears gather under her eyes. “Thanks, Mom! Hopefully all these cords help me get a job soon, huh, or else I’ll be moving back home with you.”
“Oh honey, stop joking! As if I wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms,” she quipped back.
A hand holding a bouquet of flowers shot up to your face. It was a bundle of your favorite, carnations, in ranges of different colors.
“Congratulations, lil sis,” your older brother, Trevor, breathed out. “Do I get a hug too or is that just for Mom?”
You giggled as you stepped into his arms, happy to be sharing this moment with your ever loving protector of a brother, no matter how busy he might be as a head chef for his own highly rated restaurant.
“Hey big brother, thanks for being here,” you mumbled in his tight grasp. “Did you pass along my invite to Dad?”
You felt him subtly shake his head causing your smile to slightly falter. You knew better than to expect the man who gifted you half of his genes to show up—a workaholic, absentee of a father whose love language was to deposit checks to your bank account from his fattened pockets as a lawyer for the rich. It was the cause of your parents’ separation when you were five years old. The matriarch tired from taking up the mantle as both the paternal and maternal figure for both you and your brother. Your mother exhausted from repeatedly believing broken promises uttered to herself and to her babies.
Having seen first hand how each lie wrapped as an oath chipped a piece of the loving and bright woman who gave birth to you and your brother, you vowed to never let that happen to you. It was a cautionary tale engrained in your mind. A fable—a curse really and in hindsight, you should have seen the markings of history repeating itself.
“Now, where is your nerdy pipe cleaner of a boyfriend?” He asked as he scanned around the vicinity for a sight of Spencer.
You shrugged, genuinely alright with your FBI agent of a boyfriend missing this milestone in your life. “Duty called. But that’s okay, we’ll celebrate when he gets back.”
A pair of eyes, similar to yours, inquisitively studied you as if making sure there was no hidden hurt behind those words uttered. “If you say so,” he stated, turning to your mother who was smiling at the both of you—her greatest treasures. “Mom, let’s get out of here. I had John prep the kitchen for a feast.”
You and your mom chattered excitedly at the passenger back seat as Trevor backed the four-door navy sedan out of the parking and drove off to his restaurant for the promised lunch graduation.
———
It was well into the night as you were settling in bed when the tell-tale signs of the main door being unlocked echoed through the dark green walls of his apartment.
“Spence?” You called out, letting him know that you were there instead of in your own apartment, 30 minutes away.
More shuffling was heard before the object of your love and affection rounded the bedroom door with a set of his own flowers on hand. He breathed out your name in reverence as he went for a kiss, pleased that he had still caught you awake.
“Congratulations, my love,” he smiled as he pulled away from your soft lips. “These are for you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
You smiled back, gladly accepting his apologies and flowers. “It’s all good, Spence. I know how demanding your job is. I missed you.”
“I missed you too. I told Gideon and Hotch that’ll I’ll be unavailable this weekend. It’s just you and me,” he said as he went in for another kiss, unable to resist any longer. Not long after, his outside clothes and your sleepwear were strewn all around the bedroom floor as both your bodies merged into one and reached a mutual crescendo with your gasps and his groans as the choir.
***
The second time, you moderately understood.
You noted that the BAU was back in full swing with Gideon being brought back to the saddle after what happened in Boston. As his birthday treat, you both agreed to fly in for the weekend to Vegas to visit his mother at the facility. He never would have gone alone should it not have been for your enthusiasm to come with. You loved talking to Diana about Spencer’s childhood during her good days and you also loved being in her presence still even when she was lost in her teaching past—acting out as a student as you got to hear her lectures about literature.
The bustling at the airport had you tip toeing up to catch a sight of Spencer, your flight departing in about an hour. It was a late Friday afternoon, travelers were piling in for a weekend trip, and he promised to head straight from the Bureau to the airport to meet you by the entrance. Your head swiveled from left to right, biting your lip as the minutes ticked by with no sign of your boyfriend running towards you.
The phone in your jean pocket rang and your heart slightly dropped at the sight of the caller ID.
“Hey pretty boy,” you greeted, naively wishing that this phone call wasn’t a bearer of bad news. “Are you almost at the airport?”
There were muffled voices heard in the background. “Uhm—actually—”
You sighed, understanding what he wanted to say. “There’s a case,” you stated as a matter of fact. “It’s alright, Spence. I’ll tell your mom something popped up. No worries.”
“You—you don’t have to go alone. We can always reschedule,” he suggested, the timber of his voice going up an octave as if he was in a panic at the idea of disappointing you.
“You and I both know Diana’s excited about this trip,” you chuckled as you recalled how her doctor had described his mother’s face lighting up every time she was reminded of the visit. “I’ll go and spend some time with her. Maybe even get her to tell me more embarrassing childhood stories about her perfect boy.”
He lightly laughed at your joke to ease the tension and remorse he was feeling. “I could have told you all of it if you just asked.”
“Well, does it include pictures of you too?” You teased as you were checking in at the counter.
There was a stern voice calling for his name in the background, it was Hotch, you silently guessed.
“Listen, I have to go. The team is about to give the profile,” he rushed out to inform you. “I’ll see you when we both get back. I love you.”
The call ended without so much of a chance for you to say it back.
As the plane got ready to take off, your mood continued to further dampen. He promised to go—to you and to his own mother via the phone. An ivy seed of doubt was planted in your mind. Did he try to excuse himself from the case to his boss as some sort of birthday gift? It really didn’t work that way, you knew, with how of a high demand his job is but still, you wondered if his team was informed about the plans for this weekend or were they purposely kept out of the loop. That notion wouldn’t surprise you at the slightest, thinking back. The profilers weren’t even aware of his mother’s state and condition. Hell, they didn’t even know that you existed, a girlfriend of two years, until well into his first year at the BAU.
Deep down you grasped why he keeps Diana a secret. You were aware of the shame and embarrassment he felt for himself, having had to have her institutionalized by the time he reached the age of eighteen. You got that, didn’t mean you understood it but nonetheless, you respected his decision and was even proud of him for reaching out for professional help no matter how much he viewed that action of his cowardly. But what you weren’t really privy to was really why your relationship was kept in the dark. It could have saved him from Morgan’s incessant ribbing of his inability to pick up women.
During one night where your insecurities got the best of you, you asked in a small voice if he was ashamed of the relationship. He vehemently denied it, repeatedly saying that he just wanted to have a secret solace—a happy home to return to that was untouched by the worst human terrors that he encounters on the daily. That was what you were, he explained, a sunlit luscious reprieve filled with flowers and laughter where he could rest his weary bones from the ravaging, dark waves. His own piece of heaven here on earth. He then kissed your fears away that night, hugged you tight into his chest—the vibrations from his humming lulling you to slumber.
———
“I always knew it would take a special girl to understand my special boy,” Diana mused out loud as you plated a slice of cake for her.
You blushed, sitting down beside her with your own. “He’s perfect. I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.”
She affectionately combed through your hair, similar to how her son would. “Thank you. For visiting and being understanding of his erratic schedule.”
“It’s no problem at all, Diana. I love him, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating.” You stated as the ivy seed of doubt sprouted in your mind—did you really? Did you really understand what you were getting into?
***
The third time, you still tried to understand.
There you were surrounded by the purest celebration of love and matrimony, sans your long-haired, sweater vest wearing plus one. Your brother was getting married to the love of his life, vowing himself to be with her for better, for worse and your other half was in another state catching criminals. Fiddling with the diamond engagement ring adorning your finger, you recalled how you ended up alone, dateless, in this joyous occasion.
You RSVP’ed with a date when the invitation arrived four months ago. Your brother even calling in to make sure that he, your well-celebrated FBI fiancée, will be able to attend a month before the wedding. You internally scoffed at his repeated checking but in retrospect, maybe he saw the end well before you did. You promised to him, as Spencer did to you, that he’ll be available to watch the union and to save all the slow dances with him. But the day before the wedding, the phone rang for a case in Dallas and you knew what it meant. Without so much of a fight, you kissed him goodbye by the door of his now shared apartment and let the dreary silence enveloped you as you think of how to inform your brother of the new change without hearing the pity and patronization in his voice.
Nursing a glass of red wine, you watched your brother dance with his newly wedded wife and in your peripheral, you spotted your mother approaching you at the table.
“Now why are you being such a sourpuss during this festive event?” She chimed out as she pulled a chair beside you. “You should be out there, dancing and getting to know our new extended family.”
You shrugged, unsure on what to say. She was right, of course. All the guests were enjoying themselves and basking in the warm, infectious glow of the happy couple but you didn’t have the courage in you to mask the despondent emotions inside of you.
Your mother sighed and took your left hand in hers. “You know, when your dad and I were going through the proceedings of the divorce, I had moments when I wanted to back out from it. I loved your father, still holds a piece of my heart till this day, and I thought the small moments of happiness when he was around would be enough to tied me through the days when he wasn’t. I thought those times and our love for you kids were sufficient to keep our love from wilting. If I poured out affection and devotion to the home we once built, it wouldn’t crumble surely. But you know what I forgot—”
You turned to face her somber eyes, looking into yours as if searching for something that seemed to no longer be there.
“—I forgot to take care of myself. I gave a pieces of me away so willing and so many times that when I reached the end of the marriage, I no longer knew who I was. Where the piece of me started and where it ended. You’re withering, my flower. The vibrant life that I once longed to protect in your eyes is slowly dying. I don’t want you to reach the finish line and not know how you got up there. How you ended up giving all yourself away with not a flower bud left to blossom just for you.”
You felt your hackles rise to defend the relationship. In hindsight, this was you denying the truth that was staring you right in the face. “It’s not like that with Spencer, Mom. It’s just—the job is hectic and it’s been his forever dream. He had finally started to gain his footing when Gideon and Elle left and then the kidnapping happened and that pushed his progress back a bit. But he’s getting there now. We’re stabilizing and we had a discussion—there’s less broken promises. It’s just that this recent case in Dallas was urgent and they needed the team to solve crime. I don’t want to take him away from the country and the people who needs his help and from his dream of solving crimes. I love him, Mom, in all of his entirety and he deserves all the respect and understanding from me as his partner.”
She squeezed the hand in hers—the left hand adorning the ring, the material manifestation of his vow to you that you had happily accepted. “I‘ve grown fond of Spencer. I see him as another son of mine but darling, sometimes the love you feel for each other is not enough. A relationship takes continuous work—a task that both individuals must pull in the effort and prioritize. Just think about it,” she stated as she stood up. “Now, no more of this depressing talk and this serious energy from you. Go around, dance with your brother, and enjoy.”
You mustered up a smile as you proceeded to do just what you were told until your feet were sore from all the dancing. But no matter the joyous occasion, it didn’t stop the realization in the form of ivy from taking roots and slowly covering all corners of your mind.
***
And the final time, you could no longer understand.
The grandfather clock stationed at the corner of the dimly lit apartment struck at two. Your figure was still dressed in your purple fitted dress as you waited for your soon-to-be other half to walk through the door. It was another night of getting your hopes up and broken promises and you were no longer sure how much you could take before the love you held in your heart festers and turns into resentment.
You promised yourself you’d never be in a situation that you had seen your mother once be in. You became the careful daughter of a careless man who gave little to no effort to cherish the love a woman had freely given to him. You thought with all your cautiousness and logical thinking, the mistakes of the mother would never be repeated. That was naive thinking—you realized now. By actively being aware of the past, you’d forgotten to look ahead and fell deep into the pitfalls of doing the same as your mother did.
Spencer once mentioned that there was a high divorce rate in his line of duty. How he worried and vowed that you both will never join that rate. And that was a promise he’ll be able to keep, you scoffed to yourself, as you spun the ring on the table.
Another shared piece of information floated to the forefront of your mind. How Haley had recently served Hotch, his unit chief divorce papers. You’ve grown close with her over the years, being the only two constant partners to someone working in the BAU. You’ve seen first hand all the missed milestones in Haley’s and Jack’s life as her husband flew around the country with the cavalry, saving the innocent one case at a time. Never taking the time to realize that the once solid foundation of their marriage was crumbling down with every flight he took. Similar to what was happening in the doctor’s own home.
A set of keys unlatched the mahogany door and a fresh batch of florals were the first that entered through, followed by Spencer looking sheepish as he noted your presence by the sofa. “Angel, I’m so sorry I missed your promotion dinner.”
Silence greeted him as he stumbled to get to where you were. “Carnations for you.”
Tears started to form under your eyes. You didn’t want to break but the reality of your decision was setting in. You wanted to falter, to change your mind, to give him another chance but you knew you couldn’t. You’ve given too much of your understanding away and you doubted you have any more to give to this beautiful man who once promised to make you his top priority.
“I can’t accept them, Spencer.”
His eyebrows furrowed and his body tensing as if sensing the finality behind your words. “Why not? They’re your favorite.”
“They are but—” you took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. “—I think we should stop.”
“W-what? No. No, please,” he stammered out as his own set of tears started flooding his eyes, blurring you from his vision. “I’m sorry I missed the dinner. I’ll make it up to you—I promise just—”
The dam of your emotions broke causing you to freely sob out all the sadness and anger that had collected in your heart. “I’m tired, Spencer. You can’t promise anything to me anymore. You’ve broken so many promises that you’ll only end up breaking them again.”
He took your hands into his, letting the bouquet fall crushed on the hardwood floor, recognizing the ring missing in your finger. “This time, this time it’ll be different. Please, don’t leave me.”
“The country needs you, the BAU needs you. But I need you too, Spencer. I love you, I really do but I can’t be your third priority anymore. I don’t deserve that—don’t I deserve to come first before the country and the job?”
He tightened his hold on your hands as if afraid that you were slipping through his fingers, denying the reality that you already had. “I love you so much. I don’t want to live without you by my side. Tell me how to fix this. Do you want me to leave the BAU? I’ll—I’ll do it, just stay with me, please.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want you to leave the FBI. Your ambition and integrity is one of the facets that I loved about you and you might end up resenting me down the line if you leave now. It’s not yet your time to leave the BAU, you and I both know that,” you pulled your hands away and slid the ring in front of him. “This belongs to you, I’m giving it back.”
His shoulder caved in on itself, the weight of it all too much for him to carry. “I don’t want this to be our end. I just don’t.”
“I don’t want this too, but I need to,” you whispered as your hand reached out to push shoulder length hair out of the way. “Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe in the future we’d meet again and continue the pages of our love story but for now, I have to do this Spencer. I can’t keep giving a piece of me every time your top priority needs you, I’ll end up hating you if I stay.”
You leaned in for one final kiss. A salty, tear filled kiss of death to a future you had once envisioned with the beautiful boy before you. A white picket fence with children laughing at the backyard—the American dream fading into nothing as you start to pull away.
“Goodbye for now, Spencer.”
He stared at all the curves and dips in your face one last time as if etching every detail into his already perfect memory.
“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer Reid oneshot
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WHEN THE HOUSE IS EMPTY.
pairing: soft dom!chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: when chris finally gets the house to himself for the night, he invites his girlfriend over to spend the night spoiling her rotten. warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart pls), fingering, oral (fem receiving), praise, use of pet names (angel, love), cursing, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship a/n: this is my first smut on here pls bear w me... but i hope it is AWESOME i love u guys <3 please give me feedback also !! i hope this is ok . <3 3.2k words
i swallowed thickly as i grasped the straps of my backpack, standing at the front door of my boyfriend's home.
chris had texted me last night, asking if i could come spend the night tonight as his brothers had planned to do something that had to do with "business stuff".
i had never really done this sort of thing. chris and i had been together about three to four months, and we had confessed our love to one another and kissed and whatnot, but that's about it. it didn't bother either of us, we just moved at a pace we were both comfortable at.
my eyes snapped up at chris opened the door and grinned ear to ear, opening his arms wide to engulf my body into his. "hi, angel," he greeted against my ear.
i hugged his waist with a soft smile. with a deep breath, i took in the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of his shampoo.
as chris pulled away, he gently took my hand and guided me inside. once he shut and locked the front door, he reached out to take my bag from me and transport it to his bedroom.
i let out a content sigh as i took in the familiar home, but it was so different when it was just chris here. much quieter, too.
"i have such a fun night planned for us!" chris cheered as he came back up the stairs, his hands clasped together in excitement.
i couldn't help but smile warmly at him.
the white tank that hugged his torso perfectly and his black sweats that hung dangerously low kept my attention on him.
"what do you have planned?" i asked as i took a seat at the table in the kitchen, smiling warmly at him.
chris did a little dance, his slightly dampened hair flopping with each sudden movement before he halted and shot two finger guns at me. "dinner!"
i chuckled at his embarrassing dance, nodding softly and standing up. "what're we makin'?"
chris's jaw dropped. "are you kidding? i already made it." he giggled as he opened the oven to reveal a tin of fettuccini alfredo with grilled chicken, some slices of garlic bread on the side. he also went into the fridge, where behind all the different lyrical lemonade cans, there was a bowl of ceasar salad.
"did you make this yourself?" i asked, my jaw hung open in shock.
"well," he started as he trailed off, "i guess nick helped a bit.. and youtube... matt, too, sorta.."
"it looks amazing," i stood up and smiled as i wrapped an arm around chris's waist, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't wait to eat!"
i moved to pull away, but chris gently took my jaw between his fingers and turned our faces together again, exchanging one quick peck to my lips. "me neither," he replied with a soft smile.
dinner was outstanding. i never could have thought that chris could put something like that together.
"blue shell!" chris's voice boomed as his hands gripped the controller in his hands.
"fuck!" i shouted, my tongue sticking out in focus as i tried my hardest to remain in first place in mario kart.
"please, please, please, please," chris chanted, his entire body straight as he was sitting at the edge of the couch. "yes!!" he shouted, flying past me in the game at the last moment to take first place. his arms flew in the air, controller loosely dangling from his fingers as he shot me a shit-eating grin.
"not fair," i stated quickly.
"it definitely is, y/n, i won fair and square." he defended, moving to hug my waist and press his nose into the crook of my neck.
i chuckled at this, a hand of mine moving to his jaw to caress his cheek softly. "fine. you win."
chris did a small fist pump before pulling away with a bright smile.
we sat like that for a few moments, eyes locked on one another before he gasped at the song that came on. "oh my god, i fucking love this song." he stated quickly as he took my hands and stood to his feet, dragging me up with him.
i gasped at the sudden movement, my smile never leaving my face as i laughed beside him.
3 nights by dominic fike had started playing in the speaker that chris had set up, which was playing ambient music most of our time tonight. he turned it up and smiled widely as he held my hands, waving them around and biting his lip into a wide smile.
i couldn't help but smile at him, the way his curly hair bounced with each silly dance he did, his fingers never unlocking from mine. every once in a while he would stop for a breath before starting again, his eyes locked on mine.
i did my best to keep up, jumping around with him and waving my arms as we both loudly sang the words. no matt to give us shit for being too loud in the living room today.
the song eventually came to an end, both of us panting softly as we both smiled at one another. a soft chuckle escaped both of us, before the next song began playing.
i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys?
"since when do you listen to this?" i chuckled.
"i- it's a good song," chris defended, his cheeks growing pink as he moved his hands to gently take my waist. "also because it's one of your favorites."
i smiled warmly at him. "alright, buddy," i smiled. i moved my arms up to rest on his shoulders, my hands connecting behind his head as i looked up at him and chuckled. "are we slow dancing in your living room?"
"maybe?"
"is this your idea of a smooth move?" i joked, a soft giggle leaving me as chris's face burnt up.
"hey, let a man live." he defended, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my back as we swayed softly.
i had to give it to him - i was having a great time with him.
what started as me being a nervous wreck for whatever reason resulted in me having an amazing time.
"y/n," chris stated softly, dragging me out of my thoughts. i locked eyes with him, smiling. "i love you," he whispered softly.
i could feel my cheeks heat up. "i love you too, chris." i smiled as i gently moved a hand to bury into his hair, gently running my fingers through it. "i've had a great time so far tonight."
chris smiled at this, nodding softly as he removed a hand from my waist to gently press against my cheek, holding my face there softly. "can i kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
i nodded softly as i closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of us.
chris's thumb gently grazed my cheek as he kissed me softly, his eyes closed.
no words could express the feelings i was feeling right now.
feeling a bit bold, my arms tightened around him as i deepened the kiss and tilted my head softly against him.
i could feel chris's lips curve into a small smile as he moved his hand from my waist to my lower back, his lips working against mine in sync with me.
when he gently took my bottom lip between his, i parted my lips softly as our tongues collided.
a few more moments went by and we pulled away, both with heavy breaths and a string of saliva that kept us connected for a brief moment.
we stared at each other for a brief moment before i took a deep breath. "chris," i started, before taking his hand in mine and interlocking our fingers, "i'm, uhh... i'm ready.. if you wanna-"
"me too," he quickly stated, a bright smile on his face as he tightened his grip on my hand and began walking towards the steps downstairs, which i followed and giggled as he tripped slightly on the way to his room.
"watch your step, chris!"
"i'll be fine," he smiled as he opened the door and turned us around so that my back faced his bed, his foot lifting off the ground to kick the door shut behind him. the door shut a little louder than he had anticipated, causing us both to flinch. "oops."
"chris-" i scolded, but i was quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to mine once more, gently pushing me against the mattress and hovering over me.
his hand gently grazed my hip and toyed with the hem of my shirt. he pulled away from the kiss to glance down at his hand, and back into my eyes. "is this okay?" he asked softly, which i quickly responded with a nod. "tell me if anything isn't okay, alright?" he stated softly, and gently began lifting my shirt off of my body.
the comfort of chris's voice was enough for me to let him do whatever he had wanted.
the cold air of the room kissed my skin, causing a shiver to run through my body. but every goose bump on my skin melted away when i stared up at chris, who was pulling his own shirt above his head.
"you okay?" he questioned, leaning down again to caress my cheek softly.
"i promise everything's fine," i reassured with a shy smile, and chris smiled back, pressing a kiss to my lips before he pulled away.
he kissed against my neck softly, sending shivers through my body. his lips moved down to my shoulder, down to my collarbone and down the center of my chest.
i felt like he was exploring the entirety of my body.
"can we take this off, love?" he asked, gently tugging at the strap to my bra.
i nodded quickly as i sat up and reached behind me to unclasp it, but chris's hands came around mine as he did it for me.
i felt my face heat up as it dropped, and my arms instinctively moved up to cover myself.
"shhh," chris reached to my wrists and gently lowered my arms, his nose moving up to press against the shell of my ear. "you're gorgeous. no need to hide, not ever." he gently pressed a kiss to my jaw before working down again, his lips moving to press against the skin of my left breast.
my breath hitched slightly at the feeling as i instinctively moved a hand to his hair.
the moment his lips pressed to my nipple, i felt my eyes scrunch shut as i arched my back slightly into him. the feeling was so familiar yet so unfamiliar.
chris's tongue circled around it, his eyes shut as he ran his hand up my stomach to gently knead at my right side.
i let out a shaky moan, one hand burying into his brunette locks as the other dove into the sheets.
chris eventually switched to give the other side the same attention, and after a few moments, i shakily lifted my hips to meet his, which caused a groan to erupt from us both.
chris lifted his head and moved back up to press a soft kiss to my lips, his eyes locked on mine. he admired me for a moment before his hands met with the hem of my pajama pants. "may i?" he questioned softly, his voice groggy. i nodded quickly.
chris gently tugged my shorts down and let out a shaky breath, simply at the sight of the thin, deep red fabric that hugged my hips.
i smiled softly at him. "like what you see?" i joked, and chris simply shot me a knowing glance.
"always, angel." he stated softly before he shifted his body on the bed.
"wait- what are you-?"
"takin' care of my girl," chris stated softly, his eyes moving to meet mine as his face was now inches away from my core. "is this okay?"
i blushed darkly. i was no expecting all this. "yeah, yeah that's perfect," i breathed, shifting my hips against the sheets slightly.
chris moved to press soft kisses against the insides of my thighs, his eyes closed. one hand found its way to move my underwear to the side before both of his hands wrapped around my thighs to lock them in place.
my eyes squeezed shut and my entire body shuttered as he pressed his lips where i needed him most, his tongue gently gliding along my folds until they reached my clit, where he sucked softly. i tossed my head back and released a moan as a hand subconsciously moved to lace into chris's hair. "shit." i breathed.
chris's eyes met mine for only a second before he unlinked a hand from my thigh, pressing a finger against my folds.
i shuttered slightly before a gasp escaped me at the feeling of his finger entering me, my eyes squeezing shut.
"is this okay?" was all he said, his breath hot against my clit.
"fuck, yes," i moaned softly, my volume increasing as chris gently pressed a second finger inside my cunt and began curling them gently.
my back arched as i threw my head back, letting out a shaky breath before i bucked my hips to the best of my ability. my hand gently tugged at his hair as i guided his lips back to my clit.
chris seemed to get the hint, his tongue beginning to lap against me as he sucked on the bud, his fingers pumping and curling inside of me.
"shit, chris-" i gasped as i tugged at his hair softly.
chris removed his fingers and repositioned his body before his tongue entered my cunt, his thumbs prying me open as his nose occasionally grazed my clit.
i let out a string of moans, my hips lifting off the bed and into his face as i warned him of my release.
"i- i'm close, chris, fuck," i breathed.
with the continuous thrust of his tongue, chris moaned softly against me, sending a vibration against my core.
with a gasp and a tight grip on chris's hair, i clenched around his tongue and released my juices against his tongue, my eyes lidded as i panted softly.
chris helped me ride out my high, his hand gently caressing my thigh as he removed himself. he looked at me and licked his lips, a hand reaching to his shirt that he had previously removed. he used it to wipe off his mouth before he pulled away to begin sliding off his black sweats.
"you could have gotten a towel or something," i teased.
"that's too far." he defended, winking softly. "you still okay?" he questioned, gently tossing his sweats onto the floor.
i nodded quickly. "i promise, i-" i took a deep breath, my cheeks still pink from a few moments prior. "as long as i'm with you, anything is okay, chris."
chris simply smiled softly at me. "that's what i love to hear, angel." he whispered before he gently tugged his boxers down, his member meeting with his skin as a small dribble of precum escaped the tip.
your eyes locked on him, causing a chuckle to escape chris. "let's be polite, now," he whispered, moving his fingers to press against your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes and press his lips against yours lovingly. he pulled away and shifted between my legs, smiling softly. "you ready?" he asked softly, and i nodded eagerly.
"ready," i whispered, moving my hand to gently interlock with his.
chris used his free hand to gently part my legs and press his tip against my opening, making my breath hitch.
he slowly pressed into me, deep groans and moans sounding from both of us as chris's bangs hung over his eyes. "fuck," he grunted as he continued to move into me, before he bottomed out and stared at me.
with a few moments to adjust, i shot him a soft nod before he began to move slowly. "shit," he moaned softly, his grip tightening on my hand as he rocked his hips against mine.
our eyes locked, and i swear that did something to chris, because his entire face beamed red as he picked up his pace and pressed his forehead against mine.
a low moan escaped chris's throat as he thrusted into my cunt, my eyes rolling back as i allowed my jaw to hang open. a series of moans escaped us both.
chris gently unlocked our fingers to get a grip on my thigh to lift it. he held up my leg, now hitting a new spot inside of me that made my back arch off of his mattress. "oh fuck," i moaned, my eyes squeezing shut as he pounded against my gspot. "right there, chris," i moaned, causing chris to pick up his pace and slam his cock harder into me.
my eyes teared up slightly at the euphoric feeling, my heart racing as i felt my stomach tie into a knock. chanting his name, i gripped the sheets and clenched against him, resulting in a deep moan from chris's lips.
"fuck, angel, careful," he grunted against my ear, his breath heavy against my shoulder.
i gasped and let out a shaky moan, moving to grip chris's shoulder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," i breathed, and chris nodded softly.
"me too, love, fuck," he moaned softly, his hips rutting into mine.
a few more thrusts resulted in my voice booming as i cried out, the knot in my stomach snapping as i released all over chris's cock, my eyes squeezing shut.
chris's hips sputtered at the pornographic moan, his throat releasing a deep moan as he pulled out and released against my stomach and chest, his hand moving to gently pump at his member.
chris moved to lay beside me, our eyes shut as he laid beside one another catching our breaths.
i let out a shaky sigh as i turned to chris and smiled weakly, sleepily.
chris turned and met my eyes, a sleepy smile on his face, but it was the same as every other smile he had given me today. "how do you feel?" he questioned, his hand moving to lock with mine again.
i chuckled breathlessly, nodding softly. "fuckin' awesome," i chuckled as i leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently.
chris smiled warmly at me before he reached to get a few tissues, wiping off my skin the best he could. "you did so good for me, angel." he whispered, moving a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "fuck, i'm tired." he admitted.
i scoffed at him as i opened my arms. "me too, chris."
chris bit his lip as he shifted to rest his head against my chest, his eyes closing as he hugged my waist tightly. "i love you s'much." he whispered softly.
i smiled and bit my lip as i kissed the top of his head. one hand threaded through his hair as the other gently rubbed his side. "i love you so much, chris.. thank you for tonight." i whispered.
chris nodded lazily in response, and i chuckled lightly. "get your beauty sleep."
the two of us slowly fell asleep, skin to skin as we breathed together and slept soundly.
maybe i should spend the night at my boyfriend's more often.
taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker @lovesturni0l0s @sarosfilms @sturnclouds @l34n
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo
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they're both fucking good | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader x fem!friend
summary: y/n has spent the day and night drinking at the beach with her best friends jasmine and matt. after getting back to matt's, heavily intoxicated and freezing, she is desperate to get warm. who would have thought that desperation would lead her down the path it did.
warnings: SMUT; threesome (f/f/m); oral (f/m receiving); established friendship; face sitting; facials; dirty talk; unprotected sex; talk of alcohol consumption; 18+
notes: holy fuck i FINALLY finished this. i know i told you guys this would be out friday night...and i know that it's now sunday...but i let the weekend get away from me (oopsie). i also have absolutely ZERO experience with threesomes (both writing them AND participating in them lol) so i needed some time to make sure i did my research. as usual i still don't feel super confident in my writing of this one, but regardless i hope everyone enjoys!!!
disclaimer: i would feel icky if i posted a f/f/m threesome fic without making it clear that i am absolutely not trying to minimize wlw experiences (ESPECIALLY during pride month!!!) by adding a man to the mix. as a bi woman myself, i understand how common it is for straight men to fantasize about having sex with two women while simultaneously disregarding the significance of their sexuality. my intentions when writing this fic were not to promote this mindset in any way, it was simply because i love men and women. i would also like to make it clear that my two female characters, though not confirmed in the writing, are bisexual and not simply participating in the threesome to appease the male character. okay that's all, lots of love <33333
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“Oh my god I am so fucking cold!” You exclaimed through chattering teeth as you walked through Matt’s front door. “Me too, holy shit.” Replied your friend, Jasmine, as she began climbing the stairs leading to the main floor of the house. From behind you, you heard Matt chuckle before locking the front door behind you three. “I told you both that you shouldn’t have left your change of clothes here if you were planning on staying at the beach past sunset.” He said as you and Jasmine scampered into his room where you had left your overnight bags.
You, Jasmine, and Matt had spent the entire day — and much of the night — drinking at the beach with a big group of your mutual friends. The three of you had met at a party a few months ago, and had all bonded over your shared appreciation for being highly anti-social in large groups. Because of this, the three of you had created your own little sub-group within your circle of mutual friends, hence why you all had ended up leaving the beach before anyone else had — including Nick and Chris.
You and Jasmine hurried into Matt’s room, shivering with wet hair and not much clothing on besides bikinis, wondering why the copious amount of liquor that you both drank hadn’t kept you warm. Without wasting any time, you began stripping your damp articles of clothing off to replace them with the hoodie and sweatpants you had left in Matt’s room.
As you lifted your bikini top over your face, Jasmine dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Matt, no! Don’t look!” She said through her giggles, covering her own face with her hands but peering sneakily through her fingers. Her attempt at preserving your modesty was unfortunately too late, as Matt was already standing at his closet, gazing at your chest as you continued to strip. Too drunk and concerned with the idea of getting into warm clothes, you truly didn’t care if you were stripping in front of your two best friends.
Just as you pulled your oversized hoodie over your head, Jasmine’s muffled voice filled your ears. “Wait a minute.” She said, walking over to you with an expression on her face that you couldn’t quite read. “You have your nipples pierced?” Her words came out slurred, and you feigned a smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had them done since I was eighteen.” You replied shyly. Curiosity flashed across her face as she began toying with the hem of your hoodie. “Can I see them again?” She asked with a slight smirk that you returned with your own before placing your hands on top of hers to help her lift your sweater.
Immediately, her eyes drifted to your tits, and you watched as they flickered rapidly from one to the other. “They’re so pretty, Y/n.” She said breathily, and you giggled nervously in response. The two of you were so transfixed in your own world — Jasmine still captivated by your tits and you immersed in her beautiful facial features — that you both nearly forgot that Matt was standing just a few feet away; watching the entire interaction in shock.
His feet were planted to the floor, and his body felt like a cement statue as he could do nothing but stare at his two best friends in their intimate moment. Even though part of him felt like he shouldn’t be watching you two, his eyes were glued to your places a few feet in front of him, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pry them away. So he continued to watch as Jasmine moved her hands from the hem of your sweater to your ribcage, before eventually using her thumbs to lightly brush against the metal bars on your nipples. He felt the front of his pants tighten when your eyes fluttered closed from the sensation, and finally his jaw dropped when Jasmine brought her lips up to meet yours.
Your breath hitched from the shock of feeling your friend’s mouth on yours, but the shock quickly dissolved into lust as she continued to swirl her thumbs across your sensitive nipples. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you began deepening the kiss as a way to assure her that what she was doing was okay, and you felt a soft hum leave her lips in acknowledgment. As your tongues fought for dominance in one another’s mouths, you relished in the distinct taste of peppermint in her delicate mouth.
Both of your hands began frantically travelling across each other’s bodies as you both grew needier, and the two of you began hurriedly stumbling towards Matt’s bed in the middle of the room. Jasmine laid you down on the soft mattress — your head on the very edge of the bed — and immediately straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Your hands moved to her own bikini-clad chest, where you effortlessly lifted the material to free her tits before immediately grabbing one in each of your hands.
Matt continued to watch the two girls play with each other, his mind scrambled by what was happening in front of his very eyes. His cock throbbed inside his jeans, and he was desperate to get some relief. He palmed himself lightly above his clothing, but as the girls began grinding against each other in his bed, he knew that he was going to need more alleviation than that.
Just then, Jasmine detached her lips from your neck and dragged her eyes from you to the space behind your head. Following her lead, you turned your head to the side and immediately cast your gaze on Matt. Even from a few feet away, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. If his flushed cheeks and wild eyes weren’t enough to let you know how he felt about the scene in front of him, the sizeable bulge in the front of his jeans confirmed it.
“You okay with this Matty?” Jasmine’s tone was light and mischievous, but you felt your own heart flutter at the reminder that Matt was able to see all of you in this way. He shifted his pants slightly but nodded eagerly, enjoying the view but clearly growing antsy from just watching. You smiled at him once his travelling eyes moved from your half naked body to your eyes, and you felt a wave of confidence overtake you. “You coming?” You asked, and watched as his eyes widened slightly. Above you, Jasmine giggled seductively before reaching her arm in his direction; encouraging him. Even though he had seemed shocked, he didn’t hesitate for long before walking over to the two of you on the bed.
Matt positioned himself in a sitting position at the edge of the bed only inches from where the two of you were laying. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hooked a finger in his shirt collar and pulled him down towards you. Immediately, he attached his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as Jasmine’s mouth began moving across your body. Everything about Matt’s body language and actions told you that he was starving for more, and you didn’t hesitate to gently palm him through his jeans.
After leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach, Jasmine crawled back up to your face, at which time Matt detached his mouth from you and began kissing her. From your lower angle, you watched in awe as your two best friends’ tongues danced together in unison, and hummed in contentment when Matt began playing with your sensitive nipples. Growing impatient as your friends continued to kiss one another, you leaned up and joined the kiss. Sloppily, the three of you desperately moved your lips between each others; tongues swirling and teeth biting bottom lips.
Eventually, Jasmine began descending your body once again; her mouth leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and stomach before pausing above your throbbing heat. At the same time, Matt stood up at the edge of the bed and began removing his own clothes. “Is this okay?” Jasmine asked as she began toying with your bikini bottoms; that cheeky glint still present in her eyes. You couldn’t help but nod, your body was on fire from the heat of the situation you found yourself in the middle of. As Jasmine began removing your bottoms, you felt Matt gently grab you under your arms and pull you closer to the edge of the bed. With your head now dangling off the side of the mattress, your view was of Matt staring down at you, stroking his hard cock.
Suddenly, your focus was pulled from the beautiful sight in front of you by Jasmine’s warm mouth against your reactive clit. A moan was pulled from your lips as she began swirling her tongue against your nerves, and you felt pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt before. Jasmine continued to use her talented mouth to fuck you as Matt gazed down at the two of you deep in your own world of pleasure. His view was mind blowing, and he lost all sight of control when your mouth released its loud cries of pleasure. As your mouth opened in ecstasy, he took the opportunity to gently grab onto either side of your face and slide his throbbing dick into your mouth.
Your eyes blew open in shock, but one look at Matt’s glazed over expression of relief was enough to amplify your own sense of arousal. Just as Jasmine slid two slender fingers into your core, Matt began thrusting his member into you. He started off slow and shallow — testing the waters to ensure that you were comfortable — but as your moans of pleasure vibrated his cock he began driving it faster down your throat. Overwhelmed with the unfamiliar sensation of pleasuring one person while also being pleasured by another, you began to lose control of yourself and grabbed onto Jasmine’s long hair in a desperate attempt at feeling grounded. It didn’t take long for Jasmine’s work to bring you close to an orgasm, and your eyes filled with tears as your pleasure began to overtake you. “F-fuck.” You mumbled around Matt’s dick as Jasmine’s fingers began pumping faster in and out of you.
The build up of your orgasm was so staggering that you were having a hard time letting go, especially with two sets of eyes on your writhing body. Jasmine detached her mouth from your clit but kept pumping her fingers into you as she leaned up close to your face. She smirked down at you and watched closely as your throat filled with Matt’s cock over and over. “You gonna cum baby?” She asked, her fingers never losing rhythm inside of you as you sent her pleading eyes. If you could speak, you would have begged her to not stop, but all you could do was release a gurgled moan. Just then, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm tore through you like a freight train. Your mouth went slack around Matt’s cock and your back arched off the bed as Jasmine’s fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm; even after you felt the relief from squirting all over them.
“Holy fuck.” You heard Matt’s gravelly voice through your clouded thoughts as your orgasm began to subside. His hips stilled — he was on the verge of finishing himself — and his grip on the sides of your face tightened as he attempted to regain his composure. With gasping breaths, you managed to calm your racing heart. “Hmm, you taste so good Y/n. Kiss me Matty, and see for yourself.” Jasmine’s voice was breathy and seductive, and without hesitation Matt leaned above you to kiss her deeply; moaning from the taste that your arousal had left behind on her tongue.
Just the thought of your juices being shared between your two best friends stirred up a new wave of arousal within you, and you pressed your thighs together to gain some sort of relief. However, it wasn’t long before Matt and Jasmine broke their kiss and peered down at you, Matt brushing a gentle thumb across your bottom lip. “You ready to get used some more, Y/n?” Asked Jasmine, and you didn’t hesitate before nodding your head eagerly.
Immediately, Jasmine grabbed your legs and encouraged you to spin around on the bed so that instead of your head dangling off the side, it was your legs. Matt grabbed onto both of your knees and guided them open before staring intently at your glistening core. “Your mouth was so good, can’t wait to feel your pussy around me.” His dirty words went right to your heat, and Jasmine furthered your anticipation with her own string of filth. “Mmm. Your mouth clearly knows how to make a cock feel good, let’s see if it knows its way around a cunt.” She gazed down at your puffy lips as she began removing her string bikini bottoms, and you whimpered softly when Matt slid his veiny cock tauntingly along your folds.
Jasmine lifted her leg and straddled your face, making you lose your sense of clear vision as her core hovered above your trembling mouth. So close you could reach it with your tongue if you tried, you took a moment to admire her. Bright pink and dripping from her own arousal, it took everything out of you to not grab her by her hips and hold her against your mouth. You were pulled from her trance suddenly by Matt driving himself into you. Your walls seized around him and you gasped at the feeling of his size stretching you out; your mouth turning into an ‘O’ shape. Seeing her opportunity, it was at this moment that Jasmine finally dropped her heat onto your face. Wasting no time, you immediately began devouring her folds; admiring her sweetness and relishing in the erotic noises that were slipping from her mouth all from you.
With Matt pounding into you, you were having a hard time focusing on what you were doing with your mouth as all you wanted to do was cry out in pleasure. Too pussy drunk to give into that temptation, you wrapped your arms around her smooth thighs and held her firmly against your swirling tongue. “Oh my fucking god, Y/n. S-so good.” Her words were choppy but she managed to get them all out before slowly grinding her hips against your face. You were feeling used in the best way possible, knowing that two people attached to different parts of you were able to feel so good. “Oh yeah, you’re so wet for me.” Matt cooed as he grabbed both of your legs and hooked them around his waist. You heard a half-hearted laugh from above you. “Pretty sure I got her started, Matt.” Jasmine taunted, and you suddenly felt her shift on your face; leaning towards your core while simultaneously moaning. “Oh yeah baby, that’s all for me, isn’t it.”
You moaned against her pussy when you felt her place a finger on your sensitive clit; and then nearly lost all control when she began rubbing it in tempo with Matt’s driving hips. Already overstimulated, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you came again; especially with Jasmine’s sweet juices dripping down your chin. “Mmm, gonna cum soon.” Jasmine cried out suddenly, her previously alluring tone turning into one more high-pitched and desperate. “F-fuck, me too.” Matt groaned out, his movements growing quicker and choppier. Feeling your own orgasm building up, just thinking about the pleasure that your other two friends were feeling caused the tidal wave to crash down once again.
You couldn’t stifle the throaty moans from escaping your lips and travelling directly to Jasmine’s now pulsating core as you both reached your powerful orgasms. You felt her legs shake on either side of your foggy head just as your own shook around Matt’s waist. Your nails dug into the soft skin on her inner thighs in the same way that hers dug into your hips. Your muffled moans used her body as a vessel to escape your mouth, as she sobbed out enough profanities for the both of you.
Matt’s orgasm wasn’t far behind yours and Jasmine’s. Just as you lapped up her residual cum, Matt let out a sequence of deep grunts before pulling his throbbing cock out of you and resting it on your stomach, pumping it a few times before releasing a river of hot liquid along your abdomen. You heard Jasmine gasp at the view she had had of Matt’s euphoric moment, and you savoured the satisfying feeling of his cum gathering on your stomach. Soon after, Jasmine lifted her heat off of your face, staying on her hands and knees above you but finally giving you your sense of sight back. Chest heaving, Matt looked down at you with dazed eyes and shot you a gentle smile as your eyes adjusted to the light.
Just centimetres above you, Jasmine’s voluminous breasts hung in the air and you reached up with your tongue and licked them both, not ready for this event to be over. Jasmine didn’t seem to want that either, as she released a soft moan before leaning down to your stomach and dropping small kisses along it. She then used her tongue and collected the pool of Matt’s cum in her mouth before leaning back towards your face and placing a hand on your jaw. Using her grip on your jaw to open your mouth, she leaned down until your lips were nearly touching before spitting Matt’s collected seed into your mouth. “Holy fuck.” You heard Matt whisper under his breath, clearly taken aback by the sight of his cum being shared between his two friends.
You swallow his cum before smiling flirtatiously at him. “You got another round in you?” You asked him as Jasmine climbed off of you completely and you propped yourself up on your elbows to take a look at his still-hard member. Without saying anything, Matt simply smirked and climbed onto the bed before attaching his lips to yours once again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him; deepening the kiss — the taste of all three of you travelling between your tongues — as he spun you around so that he was laying at the head of the bed with you hovering on top of him.
Still kissing you, he released a quick moan as Jasmine began bobbing her head up and down his shaft. He gripped your ass tightly with one hand and a clump of her hair with the other as his pleasure began to increase, and finally he groaned against your mouth before pulling your lips away from him. Confused, you were able to take only a quick glance at his fucked out face before he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up towards his face. Keeping your trembling figure hovered above his puffy lips, he then grabbed Jasmine and encouraged her to straddle his hips. Once the two of you were both in the correct position, he wrapped one hand around your thigh and another around Jasmine’s waist and pushed you both down onto two separate parts of his body.
Before you had even settled onto his face, his tongue began working magic around your clit. Your head rolled back and you caught a glimpse of Jasmine riding his dick behind you. Gripping onto the headboard of the bed for support, you couldn’t help but release incessant moans as Matt’s mouth worked your overstimulated cunt. “S-so good Matty.” You cried out and Jasmine hummed in agreement. Looking in between your legs, you were met with the breathtaking view of Matt’s cold blue eyes glued to you as he buried himself in your heat. The two of you maintained blurry eye contact for a long time, Jasmine filling in the silence with enough dirty phrases for the three of you combined.
“Oh god,” Her voice was trembling, “Your cock is so big Matty. And Y/n, you’re giving me the best view right now, grinding your pretty cunt against Matt like that. S-so hot.” At her words, Matt gripped your ass with both hands and held you in place before drilling his tongue against your clit at an ungodly pace. “O-oh god, gonna cum again.” You practically screamed out as your body became once again overtaken by that fluttering sensation. “M-me t-too.” Jasmine’s voice came out much less confident than it had been just moments before, and before long your synchronized moans filled the room as you were both riding out yet another mind-bending orgasm all over Matt.
Feeling more than dazed from your third orgasm of the night, you hissed and lifted your core off of Matt’s face when he continued to swirl his tongue through your swollen folds. “M-matt please no, can’t take anymore.” You pleaded with him between your legs. Matt fake-pouted up at you as Jasmine continued bouncing on his cock. “Please sweetheart, just want one more taste.” He wined out, causing you to sigh before slowly beginning to drop your pelvis back onto his face. Just as his tongue barely grazed your dripping core, the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open filled the room.
“Are ya’ll sl — oh fuck! Sorry, fuck!”
All three of you froze all movements and spun your heads to the door, catching a glimpse of Chris’ panicked face just before he hurriedly shut the bedroom door. “Uh oh.” You whispered, your hips now back to hovering above Matt’s mouth; hanging open in shock. Jasmine suddenly broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter so contagious that you and Matt both had no choice but to join in. “Okay well, I guess that killed it.” She said behind you through her laughter before beginning to climb off of Matt’s hips. “No.” Matt grabbed her wrist and your thigh, his tone so void of all laughter that the two of you had no choice but to snap your eyes onto him. “We’re not done yet. Both of you, get on your knees.” His voice was so commanding, you turned your head to look at Jasmine in surprise, only to find a sly smirk covering her flushed face.
The both of you followed his orders and climbed from your respective places on top of his body and onto the floor; side by side. Once he was able to, Matt also pulled his naked body off of the bed and stood on his feet in front of you both. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, all memory of the embarrassment you felt from Chris walking in was replaced by a new wave of arousal. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and he slapped his cock against it a few times before finally leaving it there; granting you non-verbal permission to begin playing with the tip.
As you swirled your tongue around the ridges of his head, Jasmine began kissing and licking along his shaft. Keeping your eyes on him the entire time, you watched in awe at his heaving chest and pouty lips. Once Jasmine’s mouth moved down to his balls where she began sucking them, you brought your lips all the way down his shaft; taking all of him in your mouth before bobbing your head up and down fervently. Caught up in the new sensation of two warm mouths toying with his manhood, Matt’s hands immediately reached for both of your heads, where he grabbed fistfuls of hair and held on tightly.
Small grunts left his lips as both you and Jasmine worked together to make him feel good, and you allowed his hand to push your head down as far as it could go before gargling on every inch of his member; vibrations of your own moans working his cock even more. Eventually, his grip on your hair loosened and you removed your lips from his dick to catch your breath. Without hesitating, Jasmine took over for you and you watched her full lips swallow Matt’s thick cock with ease before you began fondling his balls under her chin.
You watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, clearly approaching his orgasm. Jasmine pulled her head back, letting Matt’s cock fall from her mouth with a pop before both of you began running your tongues teasingly along either side of his length. Tongues swirling, the two of you faced each other. When your performing mouths both reached his tip, you brought your lips to hers and you both began kissing deeply. You moaned from the feeling of her soft lips as her tongue entered your mouth, and Matt began pumping his own dick as he watched the two of you impassioned with one another just below him.
“Shiiit,” Matt hissed, causing both of you to pull apart and look up at his trembling frame. “Open your mouths.” He commanded, and you two obliged with seductive smiles planted on your faces. Matt’s eyes glazed over and, with a quick shiver and a husky moan, vigorously pumped his twitching cock as his second orgasm engulfed him. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt your tongue get painted with his cum, and eagerly lapped it up before it had a chance to drip down your chin.
His pumping hand slowed its movements as he milked his dick dry, and his fiery gaze turned into one far more lethargic and relaxed as he took in your matching blissed out faces coated in his own seed. Catching your breath, you turned to look at Jasmine and her face was just as euphoric and lacquered in cum as yours, and you collected a drop that had landed on her eyebrow on your thumb before licking it off.
After what could have been hours of silent, uncertain glances between the three of you, the sullenness was broken by simultaneous laughter. Starting off as nervous giggling, it quickly transformed into full-body unrestrained howling as you fell onto your back, Jasmine clutched her stomach, and Matt leaned forward and braced himself on his knees. “How the actual fuck did that just happen?” Matt finally managed to ask through tears of laughter. “Oh my god, there’s no way we all just had a threesome!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull your body off of the floor; only just now realizing what had just transpired over the past forty five minutes.
“I’m just shocked we’ve all never done that before.” Added Jasmine, finally getting control over her laughter. You and Matt found each other’s eyes, shocked at Jasmine’s words, and broke into yet another fit of hysterics.
“Okay, okay. I need a shower right now.” You stated, finally getting to your feet. “Jesus, so do I. Every square inch of me is sticky.” Your face scrunched in mild disgust from Jasmine’s notorious lack of filter, but you couldn’t exactly disagree. “Round two in the shower?” You joked, and watched as both of your friends giggled once again. “Definitely not, I think my dick would fall off.” Chuckled Matt as he found a pair of boxers and began putting them on. “You two go, try not to do any weird shit, and I’ll go get some water for us.” You sighed dramatically, pretending to be truly gutted that he wouldn’t join, but truthfully you were grateful considering how raw your insides were feeling. “Fine, but you’ll be missing out Matty.” Replied Jasmine, adding onto your pretend narrative by jokingly biting her bottom lip as the two of you hurriedly walked through his bedroom door and into the washroom.
As soon as he heard the shower turn on, Matt threw on some sweats and headed into the kitchen to grab some drinks and snacks. Once he turned the corner from the hallway to the main living area, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Chris sitting on the couch; staring at him with a cheeky smile. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to deflate the situation, Matt chose to ignore him and continued over to the fridge to grab some sodas; however he had to fight the small smirk that he felt travelling to his lips.
Unable to stand the silence, Chris spoke up. “Dude.” He began as Matt hid his face in the fridge. “How the hell did you manage to get yourself in that situation?” Matt moved from the fridge to the pantry where he hunted for something to eat, once again unable to contain a chuckle from how mind blowing the scenario had been. “Honestly, I’m not even sure.” He replied, making Chris laugh. “But like how did you initiate it? Like did you just ask them if they wanted to fuck or what? I mean I knew you were drunk when you left the beach earlier, but there’s no way you were drunk enough to be that confident.” He pried, extremely curious as to how his typically reserved brother would have the balls to fuck his two best friends at the same time. “I didn’t initiate it.” Matt replied truthfully as he pulled a bag of chips out of the pantry. “They both sorta just went for it.” At this, Chris’ mouth dropped. “Holy shit, that’s mad hot.” He said before getting up from the couch and walking closer to where his brother was standing.
“You wanna give me some details?” Chris asked, blue eyes twinkling with interest, but Matt’s immediate look of disgust was enough to let him know that he wasn’t going to get much out of him. “Okay okay fine, but can you at least tell me which one was better?” Annoyed, Matt rolled his eyes at his brother as he popped a handful of chips into his mouth and began heading back in the direction of his room. “Chris, you know my friends are off limits for you. You’re not about to collect this information to try to slide in.” At this, Chris groaned. “That’s not what I’m doing, kid. I’m just curious if one was better than the other. Please just give me that, then I swear I’ll never bring it up again.”
Matt couldn’t keep up his nonchalant image anymore, knowing that he had done something that his brother was so shocked by. Before now, Chris had never acted so outwardly impressed by Matt’s sexual endeavours, because truthfully, he had never before done anything even close to being as crazy as what he had done tonight. Fucking his two best friends at the same time was something that he had occasionally fantasized about, but never ever considered actually doing. But now that it had actually happened, and that it had been so good, he could feel his ego inflate by the minute. He finally let a prideful smile take over his face as he reached his bedroom door before turning back around to regard his dumbfounded brother. With his hand on the doorknob and a satisfied glint in his eyes, Matt finally responded with a tranquil sigh. “They’re both fucking good.”
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo smut#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets
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Body Language | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 2 to this bad boy right here | ~8.2k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.
Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.
A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer
You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.
You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.
But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.
You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.
Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder.
Javier Peña.
Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.
“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”
“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”
It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.
He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.
Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin.
His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.
You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always.
You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.
“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.
He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.
Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”
You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.
Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.
He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.
You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.
You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.
“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.
There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.
You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.
Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).
You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.
It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.
The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.
The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.
You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.
But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.
“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.
Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.
“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.
Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.”
His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.”
He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.
Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction.
You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.
“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.
If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.
But you don’t have that kind of time.
You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle.
Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.
“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.
You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.
“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”
You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning.
His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.
Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.
Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.
He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.
Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes.
For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.
“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”
There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.
But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”
“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.”
You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.
“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”
His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.
And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.
“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.
Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.
He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.”
His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.
“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”
His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator.
You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.
Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.
“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”
His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.
You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.
You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.
“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you.
The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.
You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.
You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.
But then he says your name.
The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.
He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.”
And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.
You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.
You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs.
You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is.
But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel.
You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.
Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.
But you can’t.
If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.
You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.
But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.
“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.
His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.
You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator.
You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.
You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.
“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it.
But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.
“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.”
When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.
“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”
Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body.
He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”
Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin.
Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”
You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch.
The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.”
Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.
God help you, it feels too good to resist.
You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something.
Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”
You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.
It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.
“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”
You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated.
Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.
“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.
His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.
Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough.
He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t.
His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery.
The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.
He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.
You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.
“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you.
His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.
“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.
His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel.
And he’s drinking it all in.
“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.
“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.
He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.
Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.
His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.
He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.
Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”
You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.
You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.
“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”
He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.
“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.
Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.
He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.
The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.
Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”
His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.
It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.
His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.
“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.
“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.”
And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped.
Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.
You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.
His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.
Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”
You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor.
And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.
“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.
Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.
The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.
You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.
“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”
Your stomach sinks. Not again.
Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.
But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.
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THE ONLY EXCEPTION
PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party.
It felt good to be back.
Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party.
“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same.
Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”
Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long.
Settling down wasn’t their forte.
People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once.
“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having.
“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act.
He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.
“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?”
“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door.
The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door.
It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap.
“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”
Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned.
“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked.
Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night.
“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them.
“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”
“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was.
“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way.
“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed.
“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added.
Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin.
“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more.
“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed.
“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided.
“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added.
Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way.
It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark.
Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation.
Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again.
In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits.
You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss.
Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top.
“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him.
You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey.
You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again.
With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with.
While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun.
It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee.
Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while.
Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you.
Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too.
That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight.
Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough.
The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure.
A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle.
He had to have you.
You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat.
What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games.
“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school.
“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down.
You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you.
“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused.
Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally.
Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here.
Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends.
Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line.
He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes.
You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk.
For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—
Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly.
“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short.
“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house.
“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”
“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked.
“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected.
“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face.
“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested.
“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys.
“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate.
“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it.
Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark.
“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”
“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly.
“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck.
Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout.
Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—
“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”
“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous.
“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark.
“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips.
“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.”
You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead.
She was packing as you were speaking.
In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you.
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all.
“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment.
“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes.
“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?”
“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”
“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no.
She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place.
Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”
As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation.
Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip.
Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away.
Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs.
It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan.
He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel.
The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception.
“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned.
The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings.
And he kick-started it by calling you darling.
“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck.
His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way.
“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”
An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked.
He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it.
“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed.
“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings.
The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact.
His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you.
He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand.
It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat.
Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation.
“How was school?” He asked after a while.
The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer.
The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view.
Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you.
The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts.
You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement.
The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful.
“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage.
The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”
“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact.
You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls.
“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out.
She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready.
The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you.
You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties.
Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild.
Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy.
Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally.
Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be.
Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth.
This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd.
“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink.
His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck.
Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan.
If he’d bother to look your way, that is.
“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused.
That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves.
Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot.
His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions.
Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face.
Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore.
Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him.
He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body.
You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so.
The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony.
Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply.
“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other.
The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly.
“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye.
You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest.
“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided.
You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask.
His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours.
They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage.
He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe.
“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”
That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close.
So close to kissing you.
Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention.
“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room.
The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention.
Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said.
Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked.
“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently.
“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call.
He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to.
“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner.
“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.”
The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again.
Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.
The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them.
“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot.
Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly.
You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three.
“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes.
The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way.
“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure.
In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”
You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this.
“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked.
“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally.
“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.
“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it.
“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him.
“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said.
“It’ll be fun.”
“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you.
“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar.
“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate.
Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to.
“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily.
“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him.
“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”
It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move.
“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked.
“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water.
Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water.
“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene.
Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone.
Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold.
Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight.
You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame.
He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun.
Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour.
“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion.
He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes.
“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours.
“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again.
“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face.
Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable.
“I’ll take care of it.”
It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining.
Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about.
Lee Haechan.
You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you.
You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.
Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—”
“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you.
He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual.
“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden.
There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever.
“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for.
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time.
Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap.
He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing.
Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin.
“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly.
He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours.
“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere.
He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”
“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch.
“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested.
You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized.
“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted.
“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him.
“Let’s find out,” you mumbled.
Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own.
The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches.
Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured.
He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure.
“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it.
You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most.
“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit.
It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself.
Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded.
“It’s yours—all yours!”
“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life.
It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt.
“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you.
Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you.
His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper.
“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up.
Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow.
It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock.
This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder.
“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further.
“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.
It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly.
“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek.
“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly.
He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours.
“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered.
“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber.
Hurt.
That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark.
With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles.
Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly.
“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck.
“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger.
Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?”
Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that?
“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”
Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out.
You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now.
So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems.
You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back.
Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night.
The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered.
“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up.
“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you.
Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep.
Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses.
“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily.
“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening.
“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?”
Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry.
Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again.
You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course.
Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there.
He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down.
The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck.
You couldn’t avoid him after all.
“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay.
“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen.
You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”
You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt.
“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes.
“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath.
“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks.
“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious.
“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown.
“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken.
“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”
You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face.
You really wanted to kiss him.
“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.
You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger.
He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you.
“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips.
He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?”
You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try.
Yet another problem lingered in your mind.
“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.
“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched.
“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other.
“Fuck, hide!”
Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon
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#fic : the only exception#haechan smut#haechan angst#haechan au#haechan x reader#nct smut#nct dream smut#kpop smut#donghyuck smut#nct 127 smut#haechan scenarios#nct fanfic#lee haechan smut
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FIX THAT ATTITUDE - LN
warnings: smut !! MDNI !! semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), withholding orgasms, overstim, light choking, unprotected sex, implied aftercare
3.4k words (sorry i had a LOT to say) (not proof read)
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thank u for 1k!! lemme know if u want more fluff/smut content in the comments - my inbox is also open for requests! <3
“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?” lando whispered harshly in her ear, his hands resting on her hips as he stood behind her. to anyone looking at them, the exchange looked nothing more than a romantic moment between the young couple, but y/n knew better.
she had barely seen him for 3 weeks, with him travelling for races, and then training and meetings when he was home, her behaviour was a cry for help.
she’d tried everything. brushing past his crotch when she walked past him, bending over in front of her vanity to apply her lipstick, even hiking her dress up dangerously high when she sat in the passenger seat of his car, dragging her fingers up his veiny arms when his hand came to rest on her thigh. but still, he didn’t react, he simply smiled at her like she was an angel, softly stroking the top of her thigh without even a second glance in her direction.
she didn’t want to be treated like an angel, she didn’t want soft. she wanted to be fucked from every angle, covered in their sweat. she wanted him to use her until she was sore, legs shaking, clawing at his bare skin for anything to ground her in reality.
so, y/n got to work. complimenting oscar on his suit, smiling a little much and for a little too long at any man that approached her, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers throughout entire conversations, all whilst ignoring lando, only acknowledging him when she wanted another drink.
he wasn’t stupid, he caught on quickly, but he let her continue. she’d get what she wanted, but he wanted her to work for it. he was jealous, sure, but he trusted her to not take it too far, and god did he find it amusing watching her try so hard to provoke a reaction from him.
“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?”
the unwavering grip on her hip, sure to leave bruises - even through the layers of her dress - lando’s glares and tensed jaw. was she scared? no. was this exactly the reaction she was hoping for? well, she hadn’t worn that short black dress that dropped a little too low on her chest for lando to simply open the door for her and hold her hand like a gentleman. she wanted him, and she wanted him bad. she was desperate for any ounce of his attention.
“i’d love to see you try,” she whispered in response, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, so her words could only be heard by him, her back arching as she did. he pulled her waist in roughly, rolling his hips into her slightly.
“you think anyone here could have you writhing underneath them like i do? you think they could make you feel so good you forget your own name? i’d love to see them try,” he added, sending shivers down her spine and straight to the base of her stomach. he said no more, instead, he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his and guiding them to sit in a nearby booth. oscar sat opposite them, glancing up in concern at the red flush rising on y/n’s face.
“y/n? you good?” he asked.
“she doesn’t feel too good,” lando answered for her, his hand resting on her thigh, “combination of a long day and too much socialising, i think,” he adds, his eyebrows raising at her when he mentioned socialising.
“you know me,” she interjects, taking the chance to speak for herself, “social situations without a drink in my hand don’t mix.”
the men chuckled lightly at her response, before discussing an upcoming meeting that oscar had forgotten about, all the while, lando’s fingers toyed with the base of her dress, pushing the material further and further up her legs. she was thankful that the large table and dim lighting hid the way her hips rolled into his hand as his fingers came to stroke over the lace of her underwear. he pulled his hand away quickly, moving to grab his drink as she whimpered quietly at the loss of contact.
“you ok, angel?” lando asked her, feigning innocence, as he held the back of his hand up to her forehead, “y/n, you’re burning up,” he added, biting back a smirk.
“there’s an outside area, through that door there,” oscar told them, pointing to his left, “get some fresh air, it might help.”
“thanks, mate,” lando said, pulling the girl up to stand, her hands tugging her dress back down as he did, “ill see you later, yeah?”
the boys nodded a quick bye at each other as the couple walked in the direction of the door, the fresh air engulfing the two of them as the door closed behind them.
“you need to learn to behave yourself,” lando started, glancing around at the empty patio before pushing her roughly against a nearby wall, “whimpering like that when i barely touched you.”
“im sorry,” she replied, kissing his jaw lightly.
“you’re sorry? no, you wanted this. acting up all night like a desperate little whore,” he spat, before pressing a harsh kiss to her lips, his tongue moving into her mouth as their teeth clashed slightly from the force. the kiss was messy and heated, one hand resting on her jaw, the other on her waist as his rolled his hips into hers. she moaned into his mouth, tugging lightly at his curls as he pulled her leg up, his hardening bulge grazing her lace panties, exposed as her dressed rolled further up her thighs.
“not here,” he groaned in her ear, pulling back and letting her leg drop for her to stand.
“you didn’t care before,” she retorted, her hands grabbing at his jaw to kiss him again, “playing with me in front of oscar like that.”
“not risking someone walking out and seeing what’s mine,” he said again, grabbing her hand before walking around to the valet. y/n trailed behind him, taking large steps in a bid to keep up with his pace with only his arm to leverage the distance he put between them.
the car ride was tense, the silence heavy as she waited for lando to do something, anything. instead, both hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. the anticipation had her clit pulsing, blood running hard and fast through her body as she sought for any friction to relieve her. y/n wriggled in her seat, repositioning herself over and over again with no such luck.
“is my pretty girl so desperate she can’t even sit still?” lando taunted, glancing to his side to watch as she sat fully upright, shoes abandoned in the footwell. she brought one leg up on the seat, her head resting on her knee as her free hand moved over the grab his from the steering wheel.
“please, lan,” she begged, guiding his hand to rest on her thigh.
“we’re almost there,” he countered, yet his hand still gripped at the flesh of her thigh, releasing only to stroke his fingers along the skin, closer to her heat.
“just do something, please lan. i’ll do anything you want, just need you now please,” she said, pleading with him again. his fingers grazed her panties finally, pulling the fabric to the side as his fingers slid through her folds softly, coating his fingertips in the wetness she’d built up throughout the evening.
“so desperate, so wet for me,” he said, rubbing small circles into her clit as he patronised her, “couldn’t just behave for one night could you? just had to try and rile me up to get your way, huh?”
“just missed you is all,” she panted out, head rolling back as he pinched at her clit, she was getting close, “wanted you all night, just you.”
“too late for you to act cute, y/n,” he warned, “you wanted this. you’ll get what you want, you just need to be taught a lesson.”
he pulled his hand away, resting it on the back of her head rest as he turned to reverse into the parking spot. she whimpered at the loss of contact, having her climax snatched away from her, her sounds sending blood rushing back to his cock.
this was a game they played, he was never truly mad at her, he knew her bids to make him jealous were just that - bids. he’d do anything to see her smile, anything to be close to her, anything to show his gratitude for every little thing she does for him. if she wanted it rough, she’d get it rough. if she wanted gentle, he’d be gentle.
and right now, she wanted him between her legs.
lando pushed her down on their bed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her heat closer to him. he pulls at the sides of her panties, toying with the fabric before slowly pulling them down her legs when she moans at him to hurry up. she’s resting on her forearms, staring down at him as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up, her hair falling down her back as she rolls her hips up, desperate for him.
“patience, angel. taking my time with you,” he says, breaking the silence. he wraps an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, still slick from earlier, as he pushes a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. he pumps into her a few times, before adding a second finger, twisting them into her, feeling the way her walls contracted around them.
“more, please,” she moaned out. he simply chuckled at her.
he ignored her, fingers never faltering as he curled them up in her, hitting a spot that had her struggling to arch her back as he pinned her down into the mattress. he moved his head closer to her heat, dropping it to the side to rest on her leg, lightly kissing at her inner thigh and nipping at the skin. his eyes flittering from looking into hers before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she got closer to finishing.
lando retracted his fingers, pushing her leg from his shoulder as he stood to look down at her.
“what the fuck?” she stated as her orgasm slipped away from her for the second time this evening.
“i told you. good girls get to cum. whores get taught a lesson,” he replied, hovering over her as he pushed the same two fingers into her mouth. she whined at him, muffled as her tongue ran along them, tasting herself.
he moved back, eyes dropping to her chest as he pulled her dress down. he stopped at her breasts, thankful for the lack of bra, as the tight material pushed the flesh upwards, her nipples hardening as he leant down to blow softly on them. one hand propped himself up, the other moved to grasp at the flesh, squeezing it roughly. his head dropped, taking her other nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around them, teeth nipping at the surrounding skin. he dropped his grip on her other breast, fingers moving to tug at her, her back arching, chest rising into his touch.
“love these,” lando groaned, pulling away to look down at her again. her hair fanned around her head, chest rising and falling with hesitant breaths. he dropped to his knees again, face to face with her heat. with no warning, his face dove into her folds, licking a stripe from her hole, nose nudging at her clit.
“taste so good,” he mumbled, though he doubted she heard him, as he moved back to circle his tongue around her clit. his hands pawed at her thigh again, gripping the flesh as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them over his shoulders. lando’s free hand reached up, gripping her breast again, fingers flicking at her nipple. he could hear her moaning out his name, almost like a chant, his trousers growing unbearably tight.
“lan- fuck, so good.”
he groaned in response, sending vibrations through her heat. her legs tightened around his head, desperate for more, trying to hold on to her orgasm.
“im gonn-”
“hold it.” he said, slapping at her thigh lightly.
“i can-” she started, words halted as her climax washed over her. she tried to hold it, but the overstimulation from the previous assaults took over, pushing her to her finish, legs tightening further around his head as her hips rolled up. his nose brushing her clit again as she rode out her high, using his face.
when she caught her breath, her legs relaxed. lando crawled up her body, his crotch pressing against her heat as he did. he held back a moan.
“i told you to hold it,” he said, hand coming to squeeze lightly at the base of her throat.
“i know, im sorry, i tried, im sorry,” she rambled, panting in between each statement.
“i know you tried,” he cooed at her, mocking, as her hands came to undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material away from him. his sat back on his knees, taking the shirt off and launching it across the room as she sat back up, resting on her forearms.
she glanced down at his crotch, noticing the way his bulge strained against his suit trousers, the pressure enough that the zip was starting to roll down by itself. y/n’s hand reached out, palming him through the material before fiddling to unzip them fully, tugging the button out from the loop.
“let me make it up to you,” she begged, eyes blown wide as she stared up into his. he nearly folded at the sight, a groan getting caught in the back of his throat. he didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, laying her back down on the bed as he pressed a heated kiss to her lips, his tongue grazing her bottom lip before pulling back to press kisses along her jaw, his hand returning to squeeze the base of her neck, harder this time.
“not tonight,” he groaned in her ear, rolling his hips over hers slightly.
lando tried to keep up the poker face but she pouted at him, turning her face, as her eyes questioned him. his head dropped to her neck again, sucking lightly at the skin.
“if i even think about you with my cock rammed down your throat, ill cum - and i’d quite like to feel that tight pussy around my dick,” he laughed softly, as did she, her smile sending warmth spreading through his stomach.
her legs raised around his back rolling the two over so that she straddled his waist, his hips jutting upwards at the weight of her sat on his clothed cock. he wriggled the two of them up the bed, so that he sat upright against the headboard, his trousers shuffling down in the processes, his boxers soon after.
his cock sprang up, hitting his stomach. y/n isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard. hell, lando isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard.
her hand moved to him, thumb running over his tip spreading pre cum down his shaft, his sensitivity causing him to momentarily forget who was supposed to be in charge. lando’s hands moved to grab hers, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, before dropping them back to her waist to raise her hips up above his cock.
“you cum when i say you can,” he stated, eyes staring directly into hers, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. she nodded at him. his free hand lined his tip at her entrance, running it through her folds a few times to use her slick to prepare himself. she began lowering her hips, assuming she was taking the lead. however, when she had taken only half of his shaft, his hands gripped her hips, pushing her roughly down, filling her completely.
“fuck,” she whined, as he continued to pull at her hips, the two of them working together to maintain the pace he set as she slid up and back down his cock. his moans filled the room, his head rolling back slightly at the feeling of her tight walls clamping around him every time he bottomed out. one of her hands gripped the headboard, the other playing with the curls at the back of his head as he leant back forwards to take her nipple in his mouth, a free hand helping to grip at her flesh.
“lan, fuck. too big,” y/n whimpered again, as his hips moved to thrust up into her, taking back control of the situation.
“too big?” he laughed, “never complained before,” he added before pressing a kiss on her jaw.
his hand moved back up to her neck, finger stroking the small bruises forming on her skin.
“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he asked, his grip around her neck tightening, her eyes shutting at the overwhelming pleasure racking her whole body.
“eyes open,” he told her, and she pried her eyes open to stare into his. her pupils were blown, and he imagined his looked the same, noises escaped her open mouth, no longer able to form words.
“good girl, taking me so well,” he praised her, noticing the way her body began to slump, her walls tightening around his cock as he continued his brutal thrusts into her, “who else could make you feel this good?” he asked her, but she simply whimpered in response, words caught in the back of her throat.
his hand left her neck, slapping softly as her cheek as her eyes closed again.
“who else?” he asked again, tone harsh.
“no one,” she stuttered, “only you.”
“good girl. you gonna come for me?”
she nodded desperately, no longer sure if she was asking him or telling him.
“can you hold it for a little longer?” he asked, eyes looking softly into hers despite the intensity of the pace he set, “wanna come with you.”
“please, lan. i need t-”
“i know,” he leveraged with her, “im almost there baby,” he added, fingers dropping to toy with her overstimulated clit, her body arching forwards so that her head rested on his shoulder, arms tightly wrapping around his back.
she felt his thrusts falter, his pace slowing as his jutted up into her inconsistently.
“that’s it, baby. come with me, come for me.”
she felt herself let go, waves of climax washing over her again as her entire body shook around him. the walls of her heat, tightening and relaxing as she finished, the feeling pulling lando to his own finishes, each contraction milking his cock as ropes of cum shot into her.
the couple fell silent, lando remained inside of her as she curled into him further, both panting, trying to catch their breaths.
“fuck me that was -” she started, unable to find the words to finish her sentence. she didn’t need to though, he knew what she wanted to say as he hummed in agreement. he rolled the two over, pulling slowly out of her as her face scrunched up from the sting. he looked between the two of them, looking at the mixture of both climaxes coating his own shaft and the top of her thighs, leaking onto her dress slightly.
“you wanna shower?” he asked her, resuming domestic conversation between the two.
“i don’t think i can walk,” she said, smiling, as she rolled onto her back and throwing her arms to either side of her body. she was a sight to behold, fucked out, hair messy and the dress they never took off sat scrunched up around her stomach leaving her mostly exposed. he laughed at the sight, not in jest, but admiration for the woman before him.
“come on,” lando said softly, moving round to her side of the bed, “let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked#oscar piastri#LN4#OP81
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Just Can't Get Enough -
Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.
Summary: With the house to yourselves, you and Joel put on a late-night horror flick, which ends up with you fucking, because of course it does :)
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: established relationship, unprotected P in V sex, rough sex, language (profanity), size kink, spanking, praise kink, dirty talk, fluff, smut, creampie, possessive behaviour, pet names (baby, good girl) pre-outbreak!joel, pixel!joel. No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.
A/N: Im just horny for pre-outbreak joel miller, thats the fic. Enjoy!
The flicker of the TV light throws shadows across Joel's living room, painting your bodies in soft blues and whites. You’re straddled on top of him in reverse, knees sunk into the worn couch cushions, your back arched as you ride him. His hands splayed over your hips, guiding your rhythm even as he tries to hold himself together, trying to keep control. But Joel’s fighting a losing battle—his jaw’s slack, neck stretched back, and those deep, dark eyes are fixed on you like you’re the only damn thing in this world. Your moans mix with the cries blaring from the tv as a pornstar dies, but he’s watching you instead; some slasher flick Joel pretended to pick at random but knew damn well was going to lead to this; not fifteen minutes in, hands already tracing paths along your body like he’s memorised the damn map. After all, Sarah was staying at a friend’s house, granting you some much-needed alone time where you both could be as loud as you wanted.
“Goddamn, baby,” he grunts, voice low, strained, barely holding onto the end of the word as he thrusts up into you. “Ain’t gonna last long, movin’ like that.”
You toss a smirk over your shoulder, giving an extra roll of your hips that earns you a sharp, helpless gasp from him. You can feel how deep he is, every inch of him buried, and he lets out a rough, desperate groan as he thrusts up, making you bounce harder. Joel's hands fall lower, spanking your ass, fingers grabbing and squeezing handfuls of flesh tight. He watches, his gaze hot and intent, like he can’t get enough of the way you move on him, the way your glistening pussy looks taking his cock.
“Joel,” you whine, voice breathy as the air is knocked out of your chest. “We’re missing the best part.”
“Don’t care ‘bout the damn movie,” he grunts, his hands sliding up your waist, dragging you down onto him harder, forcing you to take every inch. “Can’t even think straight when you’re on me like this, takin’ me so fuckin’ good, baby.”
He fucks into you sharper, deeper than you could ever manage and pulls you back against his chest, his breath hot and fast in your ear. You feel him tense beneath you, feel the strain in every inch of his body as he tries to keep himself from tipping over the edge too early. He groans, low and guttural, voice rough as gravel as he presses a kiss against your neck, teeth grazing your skin. You shiver, grinding down on him, drawing another helpless moan from him, one hand gripping your hip while the other slinks around to press against your stomach, pulling you tighter against him. “You can stay here and give me my pussy.”
“Fuck, baby,” you whimper, your voice breaking as Joel buries himself deep and holds still, just for a second, trying to catch his breath. “Your cock feels so fucking good!"
You reach down to cup his balls as he rubs tight circles on your clit, ass rocking against him.
“Mhm, cum for me, baby.” He’s all breathless as his mouth latches onto your neck, kissing and sucking, only to pull away to praise you.
“Give it to me.”
“It’s all yours, Joel.”
“Good girl, cumformecumformecumforme.”
“Oh, fuck!”
You screech as you feel your pussy clench around him, your body convulsing as you orgasm.
Joel doesn’t waste a second as he stands with you still awkawrdly in his arms and him still buried inside you. ‘Not takin’ it out,’ he says gruffly, carrying you up the stairs before flinging you onto his bed.
You squeal as he pulls you towards him by your ankles, so you're situated at the edge of the bed, knees bent to your chest, legs spread.
You look down with glazed eyes to see him pushing his swollen cock back into your puffy entrance and let out an inaudible moan, griping onto the sheets.
You’re incoherent as the tops of his thighs begin to slap against your ass.
He wraps an arm around your thigh to reposition you so the length of your leg is pressed against his chest.
You’re both sweaty and sticking together, but you couldn’t care less because it’s so fucking hot how he pounds into you, and you just take it on your back like the ‘good fukin’ slut’ you are. But only his good fucking slut.
Your head lulls back onto the bed as you get lost in the feeling of him stretching you out over and over again, but he reaches up to cup your cheeks with both hands, forcing you to look at him. It’s like your mouth is permanently fixed open as he draws out your little gasps and whines, all doe-eyed and pupils blown wide.
You cling onto his forearms, digging little crescents with your nails, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind; he enjoys it, in fact. Loves watching you become all brainless and pliant, and suddenly he’s rolling you prone onto your stomach, pinning you beneath him, you gasp, bracing yourself on your forearms as he sinks into you from above, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His hands cage you in, strong arms on either side of your head as he thrusts harder, deeper, his gaze locked onto yours.
“Fuck, Joel, fuck-” you gasp, your knuckles turning white as they bunch at the sheets tighter as he drives into you, pushing the air out of your lungs. His pace is rough, relentless, and perfect. His face is close, stubbled chin brushing against your forehead. It almost hurts to arch up so much to be able to see him, but you don’t care if it means you get to look into his eyes. He’s like a dark angel above you; your favourite combination of green and gold is now black and hungry as he takes you in, his breath ragged, his chest heaving with each thrust. When he can’t hold out any longer, he moves faster, hands gripping your waist as he drills into you, filling the room with the rough and desperate groans that spill from his parted lips.
Joel falters for a second before spilling into you. You feel his hot spend seep inside you and it takes your breath away. You love being completely full of him; love to smell him on your skin and hair, love to hear the moans you pull from him. You’re like some love-blind addict; you just can’t get enough.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, that feral hunger softened only by the warmth there. And that’s when he goes slower, intense until you’re both lost in each other, nothing else in the world but the shared rhythm and the ache in every fibre of your being, pressed together, breaking apart, then melting right back into each other.
He comes down from his high with ragged breaths and peels himself off you, rolling onto his back, fingers carding his sweaty hair.
You just lie there momentarily to take him in: his gorgeous full lips, high cheekbones and pretty eyes.
You slot yourself against Joel’s side and nuzzle into his chest, playing with the dark hair scattered across it.
You feel all sleepy and gooey, dopamine pumping throughout your whole body in warm, caressing waves.
You stay like that until you both become chilly enough to put some clothes back on and finish the rest of the movie.
He hands you an old flannel, and you cuddle up to him on the couch until you fall asleep.
divider credit to @cafekitsune
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller x f!reader#pre outbreak!joel#game joel miller supremacy#game pre outbreak Joel#pixel Joel#game Joel miller#young joel miller
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Three's Not a Crowd ~ Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader
✩ Word Count: 7.9k
✩ Content: Citizen!Reader. Logan can be which ever one you think of, I didn't go into much detail. Deadpool shows up for a little bit. Miguel and Logan tussle before we get to the dirty stuff. Protected Sex (I make Logan wrap it up once again). P in V. Oral sex (fem receiving). Vaginal sex. MINORS DNI!
✩ A/N: It's a crime that I haven't seen a lot of Miguel and Logan fics so I'm fixing that rn. Enjoy!
Masterlist | Commissions
“You know what you’re doing, right?”
You shoot him a look, “I know you did not just ask me that.” Miguel stuttered, not realizing that his words might’ve offended you.
“No, shock, sorry, I was just-”
“Miguel, chill.” You playfully punched his arm. “I got this.”
“You do. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”
You knew he didn’t mean that, but you wouldn’t tell him you were a little nervous. It would be your first time working the Go Home machine alone without help from Margo, who was planning to go on more missions for Miguel. You knew your way around regarding technology—making your position at Spider Society a very helpful one.
For someone who didn’t have any superpowers.
“Just don’t press the ‘blow up HQ’ button and you’ll be straight.” Margo added in, making sure you were all set by putting the last of her console commands.
“Why would I even want to press that button?”
“Just in case you get bored. Like I do.”
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you think it was a good idea to say that in front of your boss?”
“Yes.” Margo winked, making him shake his head at her antics.
“Just call one of us if you do need help.” Miguel assured you with a hand on your shoulder. You tried not to focus on how huge his hand was on you. How close he was to you. How good he smelled at that moment. Like sandalwood. Good thing you had the best poker face in the world, otherwise your crush on him was going to show.
“I will, don’t worry.”
You had a system for sending anomalies back through the Go Home machine. You tried to get the ones brought in order so they wouldn’t spend much time inside the building. Some were antsy, primarily the villains, so you always did your best to get them out immediately. Otherwise, they'd cause problems.
Your stomach growled when you glanced at the time. It was almost lunch. Miguel was still on a mission, so you figured having lunch with him was off the table. You tried to ignore the disappointment in your stomach when you thought about being unable to eat with him. Especially since you brought him a sandwich you made this morning. He said he liked your food.
A portal emerges, and there you see Miguel and Jess with two anomalies in tow. One was webbed up and unconscious, while the other was happily following them, taking in the sights.
It was a Deadpool and Wolverine, anomalies you've never seen before. The most you've gotten were villains, other spider people who weren't a part of the Society, and random citizens. You knew there were other heroes within the universes, but you'd never thought you see them.
“Oooh it's so shiny!” Deadpool admired the other cages filled with anomalies. The one he was looking at contained a gigantic Vulture. “How did you bring this son of a gun in here?”
“Hey.” Jess called, “We agreed to let you look in exchange for voluntarily locking you up.”
“I know, I know.” Deadpool held out his arms to carry Wolverine, who was across Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel sighed before handing one of the X-Men over, like a bride in Wade's arms.
“Uh, what happened to him?” You asked as you locked the two heroes up.
“Knocked him out with my bike.” Jess informed you, “Kitty cat was getting a little crazy, so I had to calm him down.”
“He didn't have his morning coffee, that's why.” Deadpool started stroking his friend's hair. “Big guy needs his caffeine mixed with two shots of bourbon.”
Miguel sighed, “Just what I needed, a Deadpool and Wolverine. You know they usually come in pairs?”
You didn’t know that.
“Better than dealing with a Green Goblin.”
“Anything's better than dealing with goblin.” Deadpool said, “It's like witnessing therapy 101 when talking to that guy.” You bit your lip to hide your amusement while Jess and Miguel didn’t indulge in him. “Tough crowd. I thought all Spidey's are supposed to be funny.”
“Not him.” You pointed at Miguel, “Hardly a funny bone in his body.” Jess chuckled at that while he rolled his eyes.
“Someone has to be serious around here.”
While putting the two heroes on the list for the Go Home machine, your stomach growled once more. Now that Miguel was back, hopefully you two would get lunch and eat together in his lab like usual. It's almost as if he read your mind when pulling you aside.
“Hey, I'm not eating lunch now. I have a pile of reports I need to sign off on and it will take me a while.”
“Oh.” You ignored the disappointment in your chest. “It's okay. Work comes first.”
Miguel smiled, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for being understanding.”
Once taking his leave, you sat in a chair by the Go Home machine, eating your sandwich. You only had forty-five minutes, but with Miguel, it was usually close to an hour—perks of being a leader of Spider Society.
“Where the fuck are we?” You heard from one of the enclosures. Wolverine was finally awake.
“The future.” Deadpool said, “It's not all that. I didn't see a Taco Bell in here.”
“The closest thing to that are the tacos in the cafeteria.” You stood, tossing the wrapper from your sandwich away.
“Oooh, what about Mexican pizza? We don't even have those in our dimension because they keep taking it off the menu. Capitalism.”
“Can you not focus on food right now?” You see Wolverine shredded the neon webbing to pieces, understandably pissed off. “We need to get out of here.”
“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” You advise, “Not unless you wanna deal with hundreds of spider people as soon as you escape.”
“Yeah, we should sit this out, peanut.” Deadpool patted Wolverine's head, “Unless you wanna embarrass yourself again like when you fight Magneto.”
He growled, kicking the neon webbing away as if he had a personal vendetta with it. “Well, how long are we going to be stuck here?”
“Not long!” You look through your anomaly list, “After two Rhinos and one Mysterio.”
Wolverine sighed, his stomach growling, “Then is it possible to get some food? I'm fucking starving.”
“Are Mexican pizzas still on the table?” Deadpool rubbed his stomach.
“Sorry, I can't let you guys out.” You then look at your lunchbox, remembering the extra sandwich. Miguel wasn’t going to be able to eat it today. “Would a sandwich work?”
“I'd eat anything.”
“I believe him.” Deadpool added.
You slipped the duo the extra sandwich by partially opening up the cage. You told them to enjoy before going back to work. At least briefly before Deadpool started talking to past the time before you eventually had to send them home. You realized the man would keep going and going and going. Funny enough, it didn't bother you, considering working the Go Home machine tended to have a lot of quiet moments.
“I will say, despite being locked up in another dimension that's not my own, I would do it again if I had that hunk come get me every time.”
You lit up at the mention of Miguel. " Are you talking about the guy in the blue and red suit? Strong muscles? Arms you can get lost in?”
“Yes, him. Dude has an insane build. I'd like to have a party with him and two other guys. But you know what they say, four's a crowd.”
“…I thought the phrase was ‘three's a crowd’?”
“Not in this story it isn't.”
Wolverine roughly pushed Deadpool to the side, “Ignore him.”
“It's hard to when his voice resonates across the room.” You said with a hint of amusement.
“Now you see what I deal with every day.”
“I know, poor Wolverine.” You playfully pout, earning a sharp chuckle from him.
“By the way, thanks for the sandwich. It was good.”
You weren't expecting a thank you from the rugged hero, but you appreciated it.
“You're welcome.”
After meeting the infamous Deadpool and Wolverine, you were sure you wouldn't see them again. You couldn't help, but be disappointed by it. Working the Go Home machine all by yourself tended to get lonely. You got occasional visitors like Margo, Jess, Ben, Miles, etc. Miguel was busy as usual.
So it was nice to have some company besides the usual anomalies who were either too dangerous or too confused to speak to.
Maybe it was pure luck when Miguel came in one day with a sigh, carrying the same Wolverine through the portal—no Deadpool, though. Once again, Wolverine was unconscious due to Jess when they put him in the cage, covered with webs.
“Looks like we got a repeater.” You put down the hero's name on the list.
“I'd rather take him over Deadpool.” Miguel stretched and you tried not to focus on his v-line, burying your face in the tablet.
“I don't know, he's pretty funny.”
“Replace that with annoying.”
Once Miguel lowered his mask, you noticed his exhausted eyes. The red was not as bright as it usually was. “Go take a break.”
“I can't.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So many mission reports, new dimensions, new anomalies.” He motioned over to the still knocked-out Wolverine. “It doesn't make sense to take one right now.”
You glared at him, “Go take a damn break, or else I'm blocking you from my watch.”
“You can't do that without administrative controls.”
“I'll ask Lyla to give them to me.”
On cue, Lyla appeared above your shoulder. “I'll do it, Mig. You know I'm always down for a little fun.”
Not wanting to deal with that, Miguel stands down, following your advice to take a break.
“I'll see you?”
You motioned around you to prove a point. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Miguel’s lips curled up briefly, shooting you through the heart. You etched his small attempt at a smile in your mind, wishing you had Lyla quickly take a picture to send it to you. This crush was so stupid. Why couldn't you get yourself together? You would never be with him anyway, considering that Spider Society was first—no one else.
“Not this again…” Wolverine woke again in the same predicament as before, just without his friend.
“Sorry. At least you know what to expect now.”
“And you think that makes me feel better?”
“…yes? You saying you didn't miss me?”
Wolverine shook his head, not wanting to show you his slightly amused face. “I didn't say that, princess.”
The nickname makes you pause, blood rushing to your cheeks. It was nice to hear.
“We’re already on a nickname basis?”
“I can take it back.”
“Oh no, no need, Wolverine.”
“Logan. Rather have you call me by my name if I'm gonna keep coming back here.”
“Who's to say this won't be your last time here?” You asked while getting ready to put the next anomaly to the machine. “Also, I knew your actual name, by the way.” You wiggle the tablet in front of him.
Once again, you were under the impression that Logan wouldn't come back. Except he did the next day. Willingly, as well. Not knocked out or tied up with webs. He just walked through the portal with the other spiders and plopped down in the cage, pouting.
You thought the situation was odd, so you asked Margo to come down for a minute to see if this happened before with other anomalies.
“Oh yeah, all the time.” She said while observing Logan. “Had this Black Cat that kept showing up for a whole month once. There was no glitch, no secret dimensions collapsing. It was weird.”
“Yeah, that's…very weird.”
“You telling me I'm gonna keep showing up here for a month?” Logan asked, obviously not happy about that.
Margo shrugged, “Maybe? It could be much shorter, but we'll have to see.”
She showed you the statistics of Logan's original dimension, and you noticed how everything looked normal. The numbers weren't off, and the citizens were okay. It was nothing to bring up to Miguel that would cause concern.
“Let me out of here then.”
You and Margo glanced at each other, “We can’t. It's against the rules since you're classified as an anomaly.”
Logan huffed, “Didn’t think you were such a rule stickler.”
You weren’t. You didn’t want to upset Miguel. If Logan kept returning, you might as well skip all the rules. At least make him more comfortable until the system got itself together.
You messed with the tablet to let him out. Logan and Margo were shocked at your actions, and the latter quickly pulled you to the side.
“So, you're gonna take the heat, right? If Miguel gets mad at you?”
“He’s not going to get mad.” You paused momentarily, “I don't think.”
“Y'all might be tight, but he won't let this slide.” She looked over your shoulder to watch Logan, who stood by the opened cage, tapping his foot while waiting.
“I got it.”
Your plan was simple: have Logan keep you company until it was time for him to go home. You weren't going to admit to anyone else that it was a task trying to get some of the bigger anomalies in the machine. The spider mechanical legs were hitting their limit, and you didn't want to put them through maintenance, somehow still proving to Miguel that you couldn't handle it.
Margo let you do your thing when you gave Logan his day pass to stop him from glitching until he went home.
“No fancy watch?”
“No, sorry. Keep in mind this is only temporary.”
Logan nodded before searching the premises, “Any booze around here?”
“There’s the spider bar, but it's not open now.”
He let out a short laugh, “Really? A ‘spider’ bar? You’re shitting me, right?”
“Uh, this is coming from the person who rides in a X-Jet.”
You hold back in grinning when he blinked, “Alright, you got me there.”
Logan was a big help in helping you take the anomalies back to their respective dimensions. He hardly complained once you told him you'd grab him a couple of beers from the bar. And he kept you company, which you never thought you needed in this line of work. Working with technology tended to be a solo job. You just got lucky when Miguel noticed you and saw your potential. He helped you grow into the position you are in now. So, in a way, you wanted to prove he didn't put you there for nothing.
However, you felt all that crashing down when Miguel stormed into the room, seeing Logan was out of the enclosure.
“Care to explain why we have an anomaly out and about?”
You held the tablet close to your chest as you tried to devise a good excuse. Despite his rushed actions, you knew Miguel wasn’t upset as his brows weren't creased.
“He’s not out and about. Logan is under my supervision.”
Logan grunted in agreement, downing a beer you rewarded him.
“You know that's not part of protocol.” Miguel said, hands on his hips. The typical leader pose.
“Relax, bub. She's just doing me a solid.” Logan cut in, and you tried to hold in your surprise of how quickly he downed that beer. “By the way, you need to get better beer. This is shit.”
“We've hardly had any complaints from other spiders.”
“For a bunch of guys that can't get drunk, it's really easy to not give a fuck. ”
Miguel’s face twisted in mild annoyance, and you quickly stepped in front of Logan to save him.
“Look, I know I'm breaking some rules here, but this is just until we figure out why he keeps popping up in other dimensions. I'll be careful.”
You strained your neck to look up at him, his eyes searching yours. He was so close to you. His breath brushing along your head, raising your heartbeat. Miguel suddenly backed off, his face a little annoyed, but he'll get over it.
“I trust you.” You relaxed your shoulders, glad he didn't demote you. He then focused his attention on Logan. “Watch yourself.”
Logan scoffed, “What, you think I'm going to steal her from you?”
“You did not just say that.” Your head shot back at him and you could see the amusement on his face.
“Big guy's acting like I'm hogging all the attention.”
Miguel pinched his nose, “Just make sure he gets home.”
You watch him storm off, unsure how you made him upset once again. Actually, it was Logan's fault this time. Yet Miguel didn’t say anything about his comment. It could've been a one-off. He's big on avoiding questions he didn't want to answer.
You decided not to dwell on it.
You jotted down every time Logan came through as an anomaly. It was like a game. You mark the day he comes through that portal, his face in his usual scowl. That quickly fades away once he sees you. You give him a few beers and he continues to complain about how terrible they are. Or how they're not as bad once you give it to him.
Whenever a villain anomaly needs to go back, Logan acts like your bodyguard—standing behind you to assert dominance. To not mess with you. They always intimidated you since you're among the few people in the building without superpowers. And you didn't want to bring that up to Miguel either. Luckily, Logan being there relaxed you.
In fact, despite his aura of not wanting to be messed with, he was delightful to talk to. Easily being engaged in the conversations you two have. There, he knew about your civilian life and how you decided to work at Spider Society to help make a difference. You didn’t expect to be in your current position, but you were grateful for it.
And you knew more about him. Every time an anomaly comes through, you get a dossier. Standard knowledge on whoever needed to get back home. But it never ran any deeper than that. Never gave you additional information about who they were as a person. Logan allowed you to see his other side when he told you about his dark past.
Somehow, you felt closer to him.
Miguel started acting strange whenever Logan was keeping you company. Before, you could count on one hand all the times Miguel came to see you when you started working the Go Home machine. Now, he was there a lot more than usual.
Saying he was checking up on how you're doing. If Logan was giving you any trouble, which the man didn't like that one bit. Making sure you were keeping to the daily quota of sending anomalies away. Playing into his boss role.
“Don’t forget to send me the system checkups before you leave for the day.” You gave him a thumbs up at Miguel’s reminder and said goodbye as he left for what seemed like the hundredth time today.
“I swear to god if he shows up here one more time...”
Logan unleashed one of his claws for emphasis and you got the point.
“He’s just doing his job. He can't have Spider Society start to slack. Otherwise-”
“The multiverse would start collapsing blah, blah, blah.” He grabs another beer, popping off the top with a slice of his claws. “I got it, sweetheart. I can still fucking complain about it though.”
You ignored your heart fluttering whenever Logan gave you nicknames like princess or sweetheart despite his relaxed tone. You found yourself eying his physique while he kept you company—especially those bulging arms. You weren't immune to how a man displayed his strength.
Your stomach churned when you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t be developing a crush on Logan too. You liked Miguel! And what was with you pining over men you never even had a chance with?
Speaking of pining for men you probably couldn’t be with, Miguel was finally free. After saying goodbye to Logan, he sent you a message asking if you were available. This was good; it was an excellent chance to see if your crush on Miguel remained since you two had been apart for a while.
Or maybe it wasn't good because once you walked inside, his face lit up at the sight of you. You hoped he hadn't heard your increased heartbeat.
“You wanted to see me?” You asked while trying to remain calm.
“Yeah. I wanted to see if you could keep me company.” Miguel said, “I've got to sign off on paperwork and you know how much I despise it.”
“Oh yeah.”
You got comfortable on the platform as he raised it, your legs dangling below. Miguel sniffed the air and grimaced at you.
“You smell like him.”
You purse your lips. “Smell like who? Logan?” Miguel grunted and you tried to hold in a laugh. “Well, he has been hanging around me almost every day.”
“I know.” His muscles tense up at the conversation. “I don't like you hanging around with him.”
You tilted your head, “Why?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
Miguel remained silent, signing off on some more paperwork. You wish you had enough strength to knock him upside the head and quit the mysterious act. You'd be very successful, considering the lack of spider sense.
“Mig, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you don't tell me?”
You notice his shoulders tensed up more.
“He’s a drunk, too relaxed in his line of work, not serious when it comes to helping you with the machine.”
“He's been fine to me. And you know he can only get drunk, but for so long.”
Miguel sucked his teeth, brows furrowed. “He flirts with you.”
You wave him away, “It's harmless.”
“Not to me.” He's looking at you now. Serious. “He may have some underlying intentions.”
“What?” You start laughing, desperate to make this conversation feel like a joke. “Like he wants to get in my pants?” Miguel nodded to solidify it. “You know I'm a grown adult, right?”
“I'm only saying this as-” He paused as if he’s trying to figure out the right words, “as your friend. I know how men are.”
“So do I. I'm trying to understand what you gain in telling me this.”
“I don't gain anything. I'm looking out for you.”
“Bullshit.”
You wanted to leave his lab now. Miguel saying that too only made your crush on Logan even worse. Your mind now realizing that there's a possibility Logan likes you, but you were frustrated since you were so close to saying to Miguel that you like him. Just to see what he would say.
You grab his remote to the platform, lowering it to his surprise. You had to walk away and calm yourself down.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“It's getting late and I should go home.”
You try to step off, but Miguel’s in front of you, panic in his eyes. “Don’t leave.”
“You were trying to convince me that another guy I've been around only wants to get with me. For what reason? Because you’re my friend? Don't play with me, Miguel.”
You try to go past him, but he's quick, taking your hand and spinning you around. You almost fall against his chest, but he keeps you upright, looking up at him with confused eyes.
“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you angry at me. I just-” Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, words at the tip of his tongue. You don't say anything, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say. “I'm only saying this because I…I have feelings for-”
“Miggy!” Lyla called from above his shoulder, “We just got information back on-oh.” She noticed the two of you. “Oh no, was I interrupting something?”
“Yes.”
“No!” You quickly pull your hand away from Miguel’s. “He was just seeing me off. I'll head out now.”
Miguel called your name, “Don't go yet.”
“It's alright! I don't want to take you away from work.” You say goodnight to the two of them, booking it out of his lab.
Was he about to confess?
Confess what? That he liked you? It was absurd. Impossible. Miguel didn’t want you that way. At least you thought. Yet, when you came in the following day, he barely looked at you. He only said a simple good morning before continuing his leadership duties.
If he liked you, then why was he avoiding you? None of it made sense and you were trying to figure it out.
“You alright?” Logan asked, taking you out of your thoughts. You’ve been staring at the list of anomalies to send home for the day.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”
You proceeded to get rid of your confusion about the man that was Miguel O’Hara by bringing up the next anomaly. Logan doesn’t accept your words when he placed a warm hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t know about that. The big guy didn’t stop by today to annoy the hell out of me, so something’s up.”
You grimace, thinking about the conversation last night. Would it be okay to tell Logan what Miguel told you? As you’re aware, your crush for the hero with the metal claws was blooming too. You thought you were handling it relatively well compared to your one with Miguel. Maybe it’s because deep down inside, he might be right about Logan when it came to you.
“It’s stupid now that I’m thinking about everything.”
“Well?” He folded his arms, waiting for you to continue.
“We got into a disagreement last night. Miguel thinks that you’re being so flirty to me because you want to have sex with me.”
Logan sharply laughed. You tried not to let his apparent amusement sting your heart.
“Somebody’s jealous.”
You shake your head, “That’s not jealousy. He said it was out of concern.”
“And you believed him?” Your silence told everything Logan needed to know, making him chuckle once more. “I get it. You’ve seen yourself, princess?”
“I-huh?”
“You heard me. You’re not bad to look at. I’m surprised he’s taking so long to confess to you.” Logan struts over to you, your back against the console. He’s not trapping you, but the distance was closer than what you two have had before. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“And how does he look at me?”
Logan’s eyes were filled with want as he traced your body. You didn't want to admit how much it was turning you on.
“He looks at you the way I am now.”
You bit your lip, holding in a rising smile. You just received an indirect confession from a hero from another dimension. And an unspoken one from another hero in your universe. You can’t believe it.
“He doesn’t look at me that way.” You try to shut it down and not get ecstatic at the idea of two men pining over you.
“Wanna bet?” Logan gets closer to you now. You allow him, taking in hints of the whiskey you were able to swing him from the bar. “Kiss me. See how he acts then.”
You let out a surprise snort. “Like he’s watching us right now.”
“You think he isn’t?”
You purse your lips, knowing it’s not uncommon for Miguel not to watch over areas of Spider Society to make sure everything runs smoothly, including your space. Logan lets you make the move, your hands moving along his yellow suit, feeling his pectorals. His dark eyes watch you intensely when you slide up to his neck, draping your arms around it. His gloved hands rest on your sides and it unironically makes you shiver. It's the most interaction you’ve gotten in a while.
“Go for it, sweetheart.”
So you kiss him. The taste of alcohol on his lips incites you further. Your body pressed along his to feel more of his body. Logan’s hands map out your sides as if he doesn’t want to touch you further than he is already.
That’s when a rush of air goes by you. Logan is gone, his body against the wall, cracks forming around where he landed. Miguel’s imposing frame towers over him, arm tight on his neck, keeping him there.
“Guess I was right.” Logan strained, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Oh yeah? And I was right about you. Wanting to fuck her.”
“Before you could?”
Miguel growled, his hold on Logan getting tighter. “You really want to do this?”
“Buddy, I’ve been wanting to kick your sorry ass since the day we’ve met.” Logan’s claws unsheathed and panic started to set in. You did not want them to fight right here.
“Hold on, can we just take a minute to-”
They weren’t listening to you when Miguel was flown back, slamming into a console. The electricity slightly glitched his suit as he gathered his bearings, eyes on Logan the entire time. The Wolverine crouched, arms out wide in his battle stance. Miguel’s mask was up, waiting for him to make the next move.
“Guys, please don't do this. I don't wanna see you two get hurt-”
You took cover behind a console as they started to fight. Bits and pieces of technology flown everywhere. Strands of Miguel’s webs on the side. Marks from Logan’s claws all over. Bits of blood staining the floor and you weren't sure who it belonged to.
To say you were scared was the wrong word to use. Because you weren't, despite your head filled with your fast-paced heartbeat. Oddly, you were flattered.
After all this time of thinking you weren't the person Miguel wanted, the person Logan was into changed in a moment. They were fighting over you. You.
You liked it but didn’t want them to kill each other over it.
“Lyla?” You called the AI, who showed up in an instant.
“Hang on, I'm getting several system failures from the Go Home machine-oh my god.”
“Yeah. Can I get some help in here, please?”
Not long after, the men were separated. Some spiders held Miguel back while Logan had to be locked up once again to calm down. All of your coworkers were shocked at the destruction those two caused.
“Uhh what happened?” Jess asked Miguel, who didn’t say anything. He brushed by her to cool off. So she asked you, and you tried to come up with an answer that didn't sound weird.
“Miguel and Logan just had a misunderstanding.”
She pointed to the torn-up console that was currently being repaired, “How is that a result of a misunderstanding?”
You shrugged, struggling to say something cohesive. “I don't know. It's like I blinked and they started trying to tear each other’s throats out.” Because of you, but you didn’t add that part.
Jess rubbed her temples, “Alright. I'll talk to Miguel later. Are you okay, though? They didn't get you, right?”
“I'm fine.” You show her that there wasn’t a scratch on you. “Is it okay if I leave early though?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
You decided to stay home after that day—more out of embarrassment than anything. No one at Spider Society probably knew about the reason Miguel and Logan were fighting yesterday. Well, Jess might, but not anyone else. It felt embarrassing because you secretly liked it. Two incredible men in their respective fields want you, a random citizen.
You didn’t say a word to them when you left, so you couldn’t leave them high and dry.
That’s why you called Lyla, giving her instructions to have Logan stay until the end of the day if he showed up again and to call Miguel back to the Go Home machine around the same time. You needed to get yourself ready for what you wanted to say.
Time went by so fast for you.
It did not give you enough time to properly rehearse or to calm the anxiety stuck in your throat. Your shower went on forever, and you were sure you sat in your room for almost an hour trying to figure out the clothes you would wear as if you needed to woo them more than you’d already had.
You steeled yourself when walking into Spider Society, settling on a simple hoodie and jeans. You could barely hear yourself think as a few spiders greeted you, some asking why you weren’t here today. You didn’t have much time to talk, so you used an example of taking a mental health day. Because you absolutely needed it.
That’s when you walked to the machine room and saw Logan there, just as you expected. Margo was there too, and she was showing him how to play one of her favorite mobile games, which involved slashing fruit.
“Hey.”
Miguel appeared beside you, almost scaring you. “Oh geez, hey.”
“Are you…did you want to-?”
“Hey, hey!” Margo interrupted, greeting you with a wave. “I heard you were sick.”
“I took a mental health day.” You explained, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”
“It’s alright.” She waved it off, “I was playing games with this guy all day.” Margo motioned to Logan, who didn’t say anything, folding his arms.
“Go home. I’ll take Logan back for you.”
You can see Margo wanting to question it despite hearing you needed a mental break. But there was an unknown tenseness in the air, and she was a smart girl.
“Uh, okay. See ya, Logan. Bye bye, boss.” Her avatar dissipated, leaving you three alone.
“You alright?” Logan asked to cut the silence.
“I'm fine.” You reassured.
“Are you sure?” Miguel stepped closer to you, “A lot happened that day, and part of it was my fault.”
“Don’t hog all of the blame.” Logan grunted, “It was my fault too.”
“You're both okay.” You reached over and took one of their hands, squeezing them affectionately. “I just didn't want you two to kill each other.”
“Like he would've tried.”
Miguel side-eyed Logan momentarily, “I could've given different circumstances.”
“Sure, bub.”
“Okay!” You focus their attention on you, not wanting to cause another fight. “I wanted you two here to address the giant elephant in the room.” Their intense eyes on you make you a little nervous, sweat clinging to the nape of your neck. You weren't sure what their reactions were going to be. If, after all of this, you needed to find a new job.
“I like you, " you say to Miguel. A light flickers in his crimson eyes, and you notice him trying to hold back a smile.
“I like you too.”
That confirmation boosts your confidence a little.
You then turn to Logan, “I like you too.”
“You're not too bad yourself.” He casually said. “Don’t know how the big guy is gonna take it.”
“I'm right here.” Miguel scowled at him before focusing on you. “What are you trying to say?”
“What I'm saying is…I want you both.”
It was a big risk saying something like that to both of them. None of them appeared to want to share their partner with another. Unless it's under specific guidelines. You didn't have any, but you knew how you felt. And if they didn't agree, maybe you were better off not being with anyone.
Miguel appeared to be hesitant, while Logan was hardly phased. “Not the first time I've had this offer.”
“It's different, but I know what I feel for you two is real. And I'm open to trying.”
The gears are turning in Miguel’s mind as he’s thinking it over, his hand never leaving yours.
“Okay. I'll try for you.”
You shimmied with joy, pulling both of them in for a hug. You felt their hard bodies and tried not to focus on how different they were from your own. There were many rules you probably needed to set, but for now, you wanted to take it as is.
When pulling back, you stopped short between the two of them. Miguel captured your attention by turning your head towards him with his index finger.
“Can I kiss you?”
You darted down to his lips before nodding. Miguel quickly captured your lips with his. You thought your kiss with him would be gentle and light. Instead, you felt the desperation of finally being able to taste you after all this time. His groans resonated across your ears, letting you know how much he wanted you.
Miguel kissed you so much that you felt dizzy when parting, but Logan's chuckle brought you back to reality.
“Was he better than me?”
Miguel sucked his teeth when you pretended to ponder, “I think I need another reminder.”
Logan kissed you, parting your lips to slip his tongue inside. He also groans in your mouth, a steady hand on your hip. You had to grip Miguel’s shoulder to keep balance when you parted again, also dazed.
“Well?”
“It's about the same.”
The two men groaned simultaneously, hoping you would say which one was better.
“You look pretty like this.”
“For once, I agree with him.”
That's when they began their journey of your body. Logan latched on to your neck, kissing and sucking on it while Miguel peppered your face with kisses, managing to capture your lips a few more times. They lingered on their respective sides, caressing your breasts, fingers tracing down your back, groping your ass.
Logan took over momentarily, your back against his chest while he sucked on your neck again. Miguel’s kisses on your lips silenced whatever escaped from your own. Their movement were picking up in speed, and you faltered trying to keep up with them.
“Fuck.” Logan paused, sniffing the air. “You smell delicious.”
You started getting flustered, “What? Don't tell me you can…” You squeezed your thighs together.
“I can smell you too.” Miguel sniffed, his being a bit more discreet.
This was about to be a problem. If you didn't say anything, you were sure clothes would be thrown all over the consoles. You didn’t need yet another scandal in the Go Home machine.
“Let’s go somewhere more private.”
That's how you managed two superheroes in your apartment. Two horny ones at that. Some part of you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up from a dream. The way their eyes stared you down, blown from lust, standing so close to you that you could feel their body heat. But this was real.
“If any of you guys are uncomfortable-”
“If we were uncomfortable,” Miguel started, unzipping your hoodie and tossing it to the side. " We would've said it, right?”
Logan grunted, coming around from behind and raising your arms. He pulled your shirt off in one motion, leaving you in your bra.
“You okay with this, princess?
His whispering made goosebumps form on your skin. “Obviously, since I started all of this.”
“Just checking.”
Logan picked you up, angling you in a way that allowed Miguel to remove your shoes and jeans. When he settled you down, Miguel wanted to admire more of your exposed skin. His fingers circled along your plush thighs. Logan's centered along your breasts, pushing them up against your bra and making you sigh in relief.
You didn't want to get too caught up in your pleasure, noticing the guys still had on their suits. You reach over to Miguel, feeling his chest to see how to remove the suit, but he stopped you with his hand on top of yours.
“I got it.”
With his watch, his suit is gone. Only leaving him in his boxers.
Logan grumbled, “Show off.”
You turn around, your back against Miguel’s chest. You felt his lips on your neck as you went to help Logan with his suit. Having a little difficulty with the multiple kisses he gave you on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. He helped you by guiding your hands to his zipper. As you pull it down, Logan pressed against you, practically sandwiched between two half-naked, bulky guys. Who couldn't stop kissing and touching you.
Your hands brushed along their hairy chests, noting how Miguel’s was softer than Logan's coarse strands. Suddenly, you were being picked up and laid flat on your comforter.
Both men were on each side of you, the bed slightly creaking from the extra weight.
“Whoever breaks my bed is gonna pay for it.”
Logan tsked, “Say that to money bags over there.”
“I'll take responsibility and get you a better one if it happens.” Miguel reassured you.
As they spoke, your bra was removed with one hand by Logan. Your panties were pulled down and thrown away by Miguel. Cold air hitting your cunt told you exactly how wet you were, aching for more.
“I'm eating her out. Since you stole my kiss.”
Miguel told Logan, who scowled, clearly not happy about it. But got over it once his lips trailed down to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. Miguel matched him, latching on to your other breast. His hands trailed down your stomach and to your aching cunt. You felt him falter when his middle finger went in your soaked hole.
Logan wrapped his arm around your thigh, spreading you wider for Miguel to continue pumping into you. You were having a hard time keeping quiet between Miguel lazily pumping two fingers into you while Logan was determined to create marks on your skin. Hands tangled into their hair, tugging on it occasionally to replace your moans. The action spurs them on even further.
Miguel trailed his lips down, across your stomach, appreciating the fat you have and running his tongue along your naval. So slow. So agonizingly slow. He gives you mercy by continuing his journey down, kissing on your inner thighs. Logan maneuvered so he was behind you again, your head resting comfortably along his chest while you were spread wide for Miguel. He’s hovered above your aching cunt, eyes glazed over at the sight of you.
“Let me know how she tastes.” Logan said while nudging into your head. His large hands cupped your breasts.
Miguel groaned against your sex when he dived in. His tongue parted your folds, his lips closing in to suck on your clit. There was no point in being quiet anymore, you moaning loudly as Miguel ate you out. One hand slid down his curls, creating a solid grip that could pull his hair out. Logan wasn’t missing out as he continued to massage your breasts, his beard scratching along your face. You grip the nape of his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. Tongues dancing amongst each other.
You were getting double the attention. Your body heating up at the pleasure. Miguel groaned against your drenched cunt, not stopping once to take a breather. He made sure your legs remained spread with his hands holding you down.
Even Logan didn’t let you try and move to escape your impending climax. Your breaths picked up, your lips wavering against his, your eyes rolling back. Miguel kept going as your body exploded with immense ecstasy. Your cries being a work of art and an indication of how good both of them made you feel.
You felt like you were floating as they kept prolonging your orgasm. Miguel lapping at your sex and Logan pinching your nipples.
“That means I can fuck her, right?”
It was Miguel’s turn to scowl at Logan. “No. I’m already in this position anyway.”
“But you got to taste her. Now, I get to fuck her.” Logan proceeded to move you around, but Miguel stopped him with a hand on your ankle.
“No way.”
“Guys…” You mumble, slowly gathering your bearings. You feel eyes on you when you roll over to the nightstand, pulling out your box of condoms. You toss them to Logan before giving Miguel a sympathetic look.
“Next time, okay?”
Before he could express his opinion, you crawl over to him, tracing your fingers around the lining of his boxers. You wiggle your ass and glance back at Logan, permitting him to pounce on you. You notice the apparent tent in Miguel’s boxers before pulling them down. His cock was huge with a slight curve, pre cum leaking from his tip. You make kitten licks around his lip as Logan gripped your hips, his cock rubbing against your ass cheeks.
He sunk into you, causing you to shiver in ecstasy. You moan against Miguel’s shaft, licking up and down. His hand had a gentle grip on your nape as he watched you.
“Tan bonita, nena (So pretty, baby)…”
You whimper when Logan slid out of you before thrusting back inside. The thrusts strong enough to have you jolt against Miguel’s cock.
“Fuck me…” Logan grunted, creating a delicate rhythm with his hips. “You feel…oh fuck…”
You moan while taking Miguel in your mouth. You try to take as much as you could while stroking the rest, matching the rhythm Logan created. His grip on your hips get stronger as well as Miguel’s on your neck.
A symphony was conducted in the bedroom. Your moans blended in with Miguel and Logan’s, who were the main stars. Their grunts and groans as they filled you up on both ends played well with each other. All you could do was take it, drool seeping down Miguel’s cock, creating more lubrication for you to stroke.
Logan’s grunts change pitch, getting deeper. His thrusts were getting disorganized, desperate to reach his peak. Miguel was on the same end. His hips push forward in your mouth, not enough to make you choke. Both of his hands are on your neck now, creating a faster rhythm to finish.
You wondered who was going to finish first.
“I’m about to…” Miguel warned you, ready to pull out, only for you to keep him there, still sucking his soul out.
“S-So am I-” Logan’s grunts turn to outright whines when he comes, latching on to your hips. Miguel isn’t too far behind when after a few more thrusts, his cum coat your throat. You swallow it all, not missing a single drop.
As Logan pulled out of you, Miguel moved you to rest your head, his bicep under it. Your hand grazing Logan’s chest when he lies beside you, capturing your breaths, allowing the space to reach a comfortable silence.
You tried not to let your thoughts wander to what would happen next. If all of this would be a one-time thing and everything would go back to normal tomorrow, you didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“I…” Miguel spoke against your head, “I thought we’d go on a few dates before this happened.”
You snickered, “We can still go on dates. Since this is going to be serious, right?”
“Right.” He kissed your forehead.
“I’ve always wanted to go to the aquarium.” You then smack Logan’s chest to capture his attention. He was on the verge of falling asleep. “Hey, you wanna go to the aquarium one day?”
“Anything you wanna do, I’ll do too.” He said with a short shrug. “Just give me a heads-up first.”
“Got it.”
Getting an overwhelming sense of gratitude, you gently kiss Miguel’s lips before leaning over to do the same to Logan. Your heart was whole and ready for this new chapter in your life.
Tags: @ghost-lantern @monarchberrysblog
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#miguel o'hara x black reader#logan howlett x black reader#wolverine x black reader#miguel o'hara x logan howlett x reader#x black reader#x reader#miguel fanfic#miguel smut#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#logan howlett#wolverine
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JJK—
synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!
tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet
creator notes: part 2
nanami !!
— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too
— doesn’t get jealous easily
— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite
— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it
— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene
— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!
— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla
— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best
— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you
— willingly works overtime for you :3
choso !!
— sleeps until 4 pm every day
— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun
— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them
— would work any electronic like an elderly man
— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”
— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk
— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits
— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!
— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in
— loves spicy food!!
geto !!
— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word
— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”
— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul
— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it
— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!
— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7
— matching tattoos and piercings
— scary guard dog bf!!!!
— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)
— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between
— probably smells like sage & citrus
— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them
— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it
gojo !!
— wants to touch you constantly!
— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together
— loves loves loves hugs
— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy
— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold
— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you
— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”
— a jealous, jealous man >:3
— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk
— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7
— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket
— plans surprise dates all the time
toji !!
— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants
— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on
— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving
— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!
— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold
— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too
— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”
— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them
— uses 13 and 1 shampoo
— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically
— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS
— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke
— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back
— sleeps in the nude
#zevrra zevrra!#fluffy zevrra#jjk#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#this is pure fluff!#boyfriend hc’s#headcanons
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