#and since it's been a while since we both watched it

[madamechrissy]

Do I wanna know?

Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader

Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count

CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!

You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.

It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.

Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.

When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.

That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.

He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.

He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.

But not just yet.

Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.

Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.

Satoru can do that for you.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Why live here?”

You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”

“Don’t you make good money?”

“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.

“Failed? Didn’t pass?”

“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”

“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.

Satoru can make it happen, surely.

“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.

“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”

“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”

“What’re you asking, sweets?”

“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.

What’s wrong with you!?

“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.

“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.

“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”

Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”

“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”

Oh, he does.

He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.

Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.

“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.

“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.

So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.

Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.

Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.

You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.

Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.

Or will be.

Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?

You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.

Satoru: No problem, love.

Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.

Satoru Gojo, who was he really?

*****

“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.

“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.

You’re such a good girl.

“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.

“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”

“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”

“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”

“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.

“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”

“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”

You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”

“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”

“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”

“Absolutely.”

You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.

“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.

“I know.”

*****

Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.

Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”

Fuck.

You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”

“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.

Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.

All you can think of is him.

Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.

He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.

He needs you to really need him.

“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.

He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.

He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”

“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”

“Mind somewhere?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.

Where are you?

He zooms in on the location.

Someone’s house?

Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”

“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”

“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”

“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.

“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.

“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.

You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?

“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.

“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”

“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.

“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.

“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.

“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.

“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.

Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?

Then why is there this gnawing feeling?

*****

The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.

You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”

“It’s an ancient relic?”

“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”

“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”

“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.

“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.

Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.

“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.

“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.

“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.

“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.

“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.

“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.

“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”

“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.

Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.

“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already,  you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.

“Why not date him?”

“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.

“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.

*****

After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.

You’re wondering about lots of things.

“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.

“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”

“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.

“What’s that mean?”

“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”

“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”

Yes, yes it would.

“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.

“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”

“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”

He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”

Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”

“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”

“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”

“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”

You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.

He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.

But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?

That just won’t do.

He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.

Maybe a date with someone?

******

You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.

He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.

He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.

“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”

You know he knows.

You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”

Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”

“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”

“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”

“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.

“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”

“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.

“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”

“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”

“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.

You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.

“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.

“Of course, Satoru.”

“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”

He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.

You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.

The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.

Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?

Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.

Having fun on your date?

Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.

Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.

Satoru panics now.

What’s wrong?

He watches as you type.

I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…

Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”

“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?

“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”

“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”

“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”

He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”

Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”

“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”

“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”

Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.

His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”

“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.

“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”

“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.

“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”

“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”

“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”

The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.

“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.

“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”

“My what!?”

“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”

“Slutty?”

“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.

“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”

“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.

“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.

“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”

He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.

“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.

“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.

“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”

Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.

He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”

You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.

“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”

You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.

“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”

“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.

He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long  tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.

Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.

He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.

“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..

“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.

“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”

Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”

You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.

“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.

“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.

You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.

“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”

“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.

“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.

“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.

“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.

“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”

“You wouldn’t come to me.”

Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.

“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”

Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a-  “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.

“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”

“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.

“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”

You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.

“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”

“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.

“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”

“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.

“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”

You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.

“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”

Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.

“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.

“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.

“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”

He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”

“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”

“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.

“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”

After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…

You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.

But you feel deliciously fucked out.

You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?

“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.

“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.

“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.” 

“That sounds so…”

“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’

“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”

“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”

“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”

You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”

“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.

“Satoru…”

“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”

“Satoru!”

“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”

“I… you…”

“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”

“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”

You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.

He’s got you right where he wants.

And you both know you’re never leaving.

Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)

Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru  @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut

[darnell-la]

FRIENDS & CUFFS

summary: y/n has only been curious about Eddie’s handcuffs after they began dating. she wondered why he never used them on her, and at first, long told her she didn’t know anything about that life. she soon found out that Eddie had a lot to teach her.

warnings: quick friends to lovers storyline, making out, fem receiving oral from male, reader weakens after orgasm, slight innocent reader, drug dealer Eddie (not really mentioned), rough sex, bondage (Eddie’s handcuffs/chains), missionary, doggy, no protection, crying, whining, a lot of male noises, pet names, chocking, etc.

note: we haven’t done an Eddie Munson fan fiction in a while. we still love him, so, there will be more. more stranger things in general. you see what I did there? — nevermind.

———

Steve nearly asked Eddie every day since he graduated, when he was going to make a move on y/n. He hated watching the two drink and get close, yet never make a move.

When people would ask them if they were together, or assume, anyone could tell they the nervousness entered the room.

Not too long ago, y/n and Eddie finally made a move. It seemed so perfect how they both leaned in to feel each other’s lips.

“I think we should stop — You’re drunk, and it’s getting late,” Eddie whispered after y/n stopped fake fighting on top of him. “What if I won’t want to sleep just yet?” Y/n asked, a bit shy, but the alcohol in her body, helped her gain confidence.

“You’re drinks, princess, and I’m not. I don’t want you to regret this, and mess our friendship up,” Eddie said, really wanting to taste her, but she was afraid of showing what he’s been wanting to do with her.

“A kiss could never ruin our friendship, Eddie,” y/n said, slightly sounding desperate as her eyes could barely stay open. “Wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n,” Eddie admitted.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at what her best friend said. She thought she was the only one who wanted to experiment with him. She felt nasty, but now, she felt loose.

The two both crashed on each other’s lips, making g out rough but passionate. None of them have kissed like this before. They would’ve never mixed their saliva like this with anyone, but because it’s them, they wanted to do much more.

The night ended with y/n halfway passed out, and Eddie’s face resting on y/n’s thigh, dripping juice from y/n’s throbbing heat. “So good for me — I wanna get used to this,”

Now, the two are dating, happier than ever, but y/n has been curious lately. She didn’t pay much attention when they were just friends, but now that they’re dating, she thought about Eddie’s handcuffs.

Most partners would be jealous, but y/n? She was curious. She thought to herself plenty of times how he would use them on her, and why he hadn’t done it yet. They’ve only been sexual for a short time, but if he were kinky like that, why wouldn’t he mention it?

“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after turning to his girlfriend who seemed to be daydreaming. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” y/n said, not knowing if she should bring this up as a conversation so soon her their relationship.

“What is it? What were you thinking about?” The metalhead asked as he leaned back on his bed, taking his eyes off the weed he was pre-rolling for his rich customers who couldn’t do it on their own.

“So, uh — I noticed the handcuffs, and I was curious,” y/n said as she stared at the cuffs that were basically chains, dangling from a hook in his wall. She knew that had to be for something sexual.

“Hey, y/n, look — I swear on my uncle, I’ve never used them in anyone, and never planned to. I just liked the thought of them near me. I’ve even thought about you in them,” Eddie spoke quietly, a bit embarrassed by his truth.

“Oh, wait, I wasn’t jealous or anything. I just was curious on why you didn’t use them on me yet,” y/n said, making Eddie's eyes widen. For the longest, he had thought y/n was innocent, and she was. She was just open-minded when it came to her boyfriend.

“You’re not ready for that, princess,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “Why not?” Y/n asked, a bit offended as she crossed her arms. “Being restrained means you can’t do anything. I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in something like that, knowing you’d wanna get out,”

“What do you mean, want to get out? I can take it,” y/n said, only making the man laugh. “You can’t even take me slow in doggy. What makes you think you can take me deep up front with your pretty hands cuffed?”

Eddie shifted in the bed to cup y/n’s chin, slightly teasing her because they both knew she wasn’t a taker. Especially with his length.

“I-I can take it — It’s not even that bad,” y/n said, making Eddie throw himself back onto his bed with a loud laugh, knowing his uncle wasn’t home to tell him to shut the hell up.

“What!? You’re mean as fuck, you know?” Y/n said as she kept her arms crossed. “Oh, really, baby? I’m sorry, it’s just — You’re a comedian,” Eddie kept laughing, only making y/n roll her eyes.

“C’mon, I’m just pullin’ your tit, baby,” Eddie leaned up to hug y/n, but she moved away. “Babe, don’t start this. I was just kidding,” Eddie tried hugging y/n again, but this time she pushed him away. Of course, not too hard. She was just being dramatic.

“And, that’s why we can’t do what you wanna do. You can’t even handle being picked on a little bit,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s shoulder lightly, slightly feeling bad for what he did.

“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” y/n said, making y/n sigh as he rolled his eyes. “Fine — We can use em, but ion wanna hear none of that cryin', okay?” Eddie jumped off of the bed to get his handcuffs that had dust all over them.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit excited, but knowing she wouldn’t be too excited soon. “Ah huh, but only one rule,” Eddie said with a smirk as he untangled the chains. “Yeah?” Y/n innocently asked, not knowing how quick of a turn this would take.

“The only thing stopping me, is our safe word,” before y/n could agree with a smile, Eddie lunged at her, grabbing her quest roughly to cuff them as quick as possible.

“Hey,” y/n said with an eye roll, not knowing he’d get in the mood this fast. “Not a word from you, princess. Let’s see how good you think you can take it,” Eddie said as he placed the chains where they needed to be.

Seeing y/n in this sight, made him harder than he thought he could get. She was always beautiful, but seeing her innocent body slightly retrained, knowing she was actually ready for what was coming, made him want to burst then and there.

“Always thought about tying you up at school. I was a little perv-nerd when it came to you, princess. You always looked and smelled so good — Had to keep myself from throwing you in my van with your hands and legs tied,”

Eddie was in an emotion he couldn’t control. He was either not sure about putting his pretty girl through this, or he was getting too dark to the point he would black out and not remember anything he’d do to her tonight.

“Pretties thighs — Pretties body — Pretties fucking face,” Eddie slightly growled as he gripped y/n’s face. The younger girl whined with huge eyes, feeling her heat get wet.

“I know, baby — Hearts probably rising. Maybe a hint of fear, knowing you can’t get loose — Don’t worry. You know, I’ll take good care of you,”

Eddie quickly began tugging on y/n’s clothes until parts of her showed more than before. She had already had her night dress in, so exposing her bra-covered breast was easy.

“You sure you want this y/n because, fuck — I won’t be able to stop myself,” Eddie warned as he climbed on top of y/n, pulling her dress up as she slightly moved at his cold hands grazing her skin.

“U-Use me — Please,” y/n stuttered, not knowing if she should’ve said it. “What’s the safe word?” Eddie asked in a stern tone. “Red,” y/n said, feeling her heart raise. This was actually happening, and she only had to question him once.

“Good girl,” Eddie grunted as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. “And, that’s the only thing I wanna hear from you tonight,” Eddie said as he pulled y/n’s panties to the side.

“I-I’ll try,” y/n spoke, making Eddie shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re always doing a terrible job. Just means I’ll have to start off rough,” before anything, Eddie doubly pushed through y/n’s walls, causing her to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Yeah? You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? I told you doggy would be the only position you could truly handle — This is next level,” Eddie couldn’t stop but grin down at the struggles woman.

“S-So much,” y/n whined low, only making Eddie shush her. “Nah uh, what did I say? Didn’t I say to keep that pretty mouth closed? Hm? — You’re the one who wanted this, so accept the journey,”

Eddie grabbed both sides of y/n’s waist before pushing down onto the mattress. Y/n knew he was positioning himself to fuck her rough. He’s never gone too rough, but she asked for it tonight.

“Hush it up, princess — You wanted it,” Eddie continued saying as he pounded down into y/n, going the deepest he could get at the start of his session. After being handcuffed, there would be no room for taking it slow.

“E-Eddie,” y/n cried out as she pulled one of her restraints. At times, she’d forget that she wouldn’t be able to get out. “Wanna break free? Keep trying, princess — Makes this so much hotter,” Eddie growled with a smile, looking down at the way y/n pulled on the chains.

“This is the tightest you’ve ever been — The way you’re soaking around me, only makes me closer,” Eddie felt himself twitch. He didn’t want to cum this quick, but it didn’t matter. He’s always been able to keep going.

“Eddie- Eddie, you — The condoms. You forgot the condoms,” y/n took forever to say what she was trying to say. “Oh, really? Guess that’s your luck, hm?” Eddie leaned in front of y/n’s face.

Deep down, Eddie felt bad for slipping into her without protection. He had completely forgotten, but he didn’t want to get out of character. He had to somehow make sure y/n was 100% with what was going on.

“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me. Tell me!” Eddie slightly yelled as he snapped his hips, wanting to keep his work going. He could feel the way she fluttered around him. She was so close.

“Too much, Eds — I’m gonna cum,” y/n made the mistake of telling him how close she was. “And, you want me to stop? When you’re so close? C’mon,” Eddie leaned into y/n’s ear so she could hear his groans better.

The room was filled with wet slaps, whining, growling, and a bunch is cuss words from Eddie. He couldn’t keep himself together. This situation was too much for him. He was going to explode.

“E-Eddie, slow down — Please,” y/n tried begging the man, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? She hadn’t used the safe word yet. “Want me to slow down?” Eddie asked as he leaned up.

“Yes, yes,” y/n huffed, surprised he actually slowed down. She had thought he got soft, but little did she know, he was just getting a short break. “Want me to be nicer? Take it easy on you?” He asked as he softly placed his hands around her neck.

“Please-“ y/n was cut off by the grip of his hands. “Then you asked the wrong one to chain you up, sweetheart,” Eddie spat before he began slamming into her, making the young lady cry out instantly.

“E-Eds! C-Can’t anymore — I can’t!” Y/n kicked and arched her back, trying to control herself, but her cunt continued to squeeze around Eddie, only assuring him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. Using her.

“That’s it — Keep struggling — You’re going nowhere, and this isn’t even the beginning — I have so many loads I’ve been wanting to empty into you,” Eddie tightened his grip a bit more to hear her struggle for air.

For a second, Eddie thought he might have been going too far tonight. Quickly handcuffing her, saying mean things, pinning her down, and fucking get rougher than he’s ever done.

The only thing that helped him was her words. She never once came close to the word red. She would’ve said it by now, and she would never come to him later and say she was uncomfortable. Y/n wasn’t like that.

That’s how Eddie knew y/n probably enjoyed this more than him. She loved faking that she needed him to stop. He even saw a small pour from her when he slowed down a few minutes ago.

“C-Cumming — Cunming,” y/n’s body stiffened before she shook. “That’s it- That’s it — Fucking take it,” the older man growled as he pounded her, wanting her juice to splash anywhere it could.

“Ian stoppin’ either, baby — Told you to keep that fucking mouth shut, didn’t I?” Eddie asked, but y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes were landing everywhere but on him. She felt out of it already.

“Didn’t I!?” The man shouted as he shook y/n by her neck to catch her attention. “S-Sorry,” tears streamed from her eyes, upset at herself for not taking it like she swore she could.

Right as Eddie went to assure her that she was fine, she spoke, shocking him.

“I-I’ll be good, I promise. Please cum in me. D-Don’t pull out and punish me,” she cried. “I’ll do anything, Eds, just- Please, use me,”

“Jesus’s H. Christ,” Eddie huffed as he pulled out. He quickly turned his girlfriend around, knowing the chains were long enough for her to be comfortable. He took no time to push back in her, roughly, with a warning.

Y/n wanted to speak out loud to thank him, he she kept quiet. She wanted to be good like she promised.

“You’re just a slut, y/n — A dirty fucking slut, and I knew it from how you dressed at parties — You always got drunk before you sat on my lap, facing me- Dragging that pretty pussy across my clothes cock — Swore you even stained my jeans, once,”

Y/n whined, happy that he noticed his much she wanted him before they got together. Yeah, a bit of embarrassment was felt, but the thought of being caught was what made her close to another orgasm.

“You’re in for a ride with me, princess. Especially after I coat these walls,”

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.  Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*

The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.  Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*

And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.  He could give it to you. 

DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.

It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.  Sappy motherfucker. 

Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.

He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.  So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.  It’s soo stupid. 

It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol

You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.  You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.  But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”  You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”  The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao

He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.

If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?

“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.

From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.

I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.

There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!

@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.

And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

[elryuse]

ISLAND PT. 4 Yeji

ITZY X MALE READER

Tags : Beach Sex, Public Sex, Intimacy, Cowgirl, Riding Creampie, Creampie, Romance, Smutty Smut Smut

For My Other ISLAND Stories Please Kindly Check it Over Here.

The sun filtered through the thin curtains of Y/n's hotel room, casting a warm glow over the messy sheets and discarded clothes strewn across the floor. The faint hum of the air conditioner mixed with the muffled sound of waves crashing outside. Y/n groaned as his alarm blared from his phone, pulling him reluctantly from his deep slumber. He reached out blindly, slapping the device until the noise stopped, then let his arm flop back onto the bed.

Damn, I overslept, he thought, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake off the haze of sleep. His body still carried the pleasant ache from the previous night’s escapades—Yuna had been insatiable, her curiosity turning into pure, unfiltered desire. But now, it was morning, and the world outside his cocoon of pleasure was waiting.

As he blinked his eyes open, he noticed someone sitting at the edge of his bed. It was Yeji, her long legs crossed elegantly as she leaned back on one hand, watching the television mounted on the wall. She hadn’t noticed he was awake yet, her attention focused on the drama playing out on the screen. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulder in soft waves, and she wore a casual oversized sweater that slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone.

“Good morning,” Y/n croaked, his voice rough from sleep. He yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head.

Yeji turned her head, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Morning,” she replied softly, her voice smooth and melodic. She reached for a tray on the bedside table and handed it to him. “Here. I brought you some breakfast. The buffet closed already, so I grabbed whatever I could.”

Y/n sat up, propping himself against the headboard as he accepted the tray. A plate of fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit greeted him, alongside a steaming cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he said, offering her a grateful smile before digging in.

She watched him eat for a moment, her gaze lingering on him in a way that made him feel both comfortable and slightly self-conscious. Then, almost casually, she said, “The others want to go to the beach later. It’s just across the resort. We figured since we’re here, we might as well enjoy it.”

Y/n hummed around a mouthful of toast, nodding as he chewed. The idea of spending the day by the ocean sounded perfect—relaxing, refreshing, and maybe even a little indulgent. Once he swallowed, he gave her a thumbs-up. “Sounds good. Count me in.”

Yeji’s smile widened at that, her cat-like eyes sparkling with amusement. “Great. I’ll let them know.” She stood gracefully, smoothing out her sweater before heading toward the door. Just as she reached for the handle, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t take too long, okay? We don’t want to miss the best part of the day.”

He chuckled, raising his coffee cup in a mock salute. “I’ll be ready soon. Promise.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Y/n alone once more. He finished his breakfast quickly, savoring the last sip of coffee before setting the tray aside. As he got out of bed and started getting dressed, his mind wandered to the possibilities the day might hold. The beach, the sun, the girls… This is going to be interesting, he thought, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

---

By the time Y/n stepped out of the hotel lobby, the rest of ITZY was already gathered outside, chatting animatedly among themselves. Ryujin and Chaeryeong were playfully bickering about something, while Yuna giggled beside them, her cheeks flushed as she avoided eye contact with Y/n. Lia, ever the calm one, was scrolling through her phone, though she looked up and smiled when she noticed him approaching.

“Ah, finally! Took you long enough,” Ryujin teased, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a loose tank top paired with denim shorts, her toned legs on full display.

“Got held up,” Y/n replied with a wink, earning a giggle from Yuna and an exaggerated eye roll from Ryujin.

“Let’s just go already,” Chaeryeong interjected, grabbing Ryujin’s hand and tugging her toward the path that led to the beach. “I want to see if the water’s as clear as they say it is.”

The group followed the sandy trail, the sound of waves growing louder with each step. When they finally arrived, the sight took their breath away. The ocean stretched out endlessly, its crystal-clear waters shimmering under the bright sunlight. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, and the white sand felt warm beneath their feet.

“Wow,” Yeji murmured, her eyes wide as she took it all in. “This place is… beautiful.”

Ryujin wasted no time kicking off her flip-flops and running toward the water, letting out a loud whoop as she splashed into the waves. Chaeryeong and Yuna followed suit, laughing as they chased after her. Lia, meanwhile, found a spot to lay out a towel and stretch out under the sun, her sunglasses perched on her nose.

Y/n stood at the shoreline, feeling the cool water lap at his feet. He took a deep breath, savoring the salty air. This… this was paradise. But before he could fully relax, he felt a presence beside him. Turning his head, he saw Yeji standing there, her hands clasped behind her back as she gazed out at the horizon.

“You’re not going to join them?” he asked, gesturing toward the others, who were now waist-deep in the water, splashing each other like children.

Yeji shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Not yet. I like taking my time.” She paused, then added, “Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”

That caught his attention. He turned to face her fully, tilting his head curiously. “Oh? About what?”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate. But then, she stepped closer, her voice lowering so only he could hear. “About… us. About everything that’s been happening between you and the members.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. So she knows, he thought, though he wasn’t entirely surprised. Yeji was observant, always noticing things others might miss. Still, he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ve seen the way they look at you,” she went on, her tone thoughtful but not accusatory. “And the way you look at them. It’s… intense. Passionate. But I can’t help wondering… where does that leave me?”

Her question hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded. Y/n searched her face, trying to gauge her emotions. Was she jealous? Curious? Something else entirely? Before he could respond, she took another step closer, closing the distance between them.

“I’ve spent so much time being the leader,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Always making sure everyone else is okay. But sometimes… I just want to be selfish. To have something—someone—for myself.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. Without thinking, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeji…” he began, but she cut him off.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, her lips curving into a slow, sensual smile. “Show me.”

His breath hitched at the boldness in her gaze, the unspoken challenge. And then, with a subtle shift in her stance, she pressed herself against him, her lips finding his in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was different from the playful kisses he’d shared with the others—this one carried a depth, a raw need that left him reeling.

When they finally pulled apart, her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and desire. “Now,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “let’s see if you can keep up with me.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and began walking along the shoreline, her hips swaying with every step. Y/n stared after her, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know what lay ahead, but one thing was certain: today was going to be anything but ordinary.

Yeji’s hand tightened around Y/n’s as they left the others behind, her long legs carrying them further down the beach. The golden sand shifted beneath their feet, warm from the relentless sun, and the sound of crashing waves grew louder with each step. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her lips curling into a sly grin. “You trust me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice playful but laced with something deeper—something that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Of course,” Y/n replied, though his heart was pounding in his chest. There was an electricity in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable. Yeji had always been the leader, confident and commanding, but now there was a new edge to her demeanor—one that made his throat dry and his palms sweat.

She led him to a hidden cove, its entrance partially shielded by jagged rocks and tall seagrass. The moment they stepped inside, the world seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them and the rhythmic crash of waves against stone. The cove was bathed in sunlight, the water sparkling like liquid sapphire, and the air was thick with the salty scent of the sea.

Yeji turned to face him, her eyes darkening as she took a step closer. Her fingers brushed against his chest, tracing the line of his collarbone before moving to the buttons of his shirt. “You’re overdressed,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing. One by one, she undid the buttons, her touch deliberate and unhurried. When the last button came undone, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the sand. Her hands slid down his chest, her nails grazing his skin lightly, eliciting a soft gasp from him.

Yeji was different, he realized. She wasn’t just seeking pleasure; she wanted control. Every movement, every glance, held a purpose. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. “Your turn,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. Her tone was a command, not a suggestion, and Y/n felt his body respond instinctively.

He reached for her, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the hem of her tank top. She tilted her head, watching him with a mix of amusement and approval as he pulled it over her head. Her swimsuit clung to her curves, the fabric damp from the sea breeze, and Y/n couldn’t help but stare. She smirked, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him, and guided his hands to the clasps of her bikini top. “Go on,” she urged, her voice a sultry purr.

With shaky fingers, he undid the clasps, and the fabric fell away, revealing her perky breasts, the nipples already hardened by the cool air. Yeji let out a soft sigh, arching her back slightly as his hands explored her, tracing the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips. She stepped back, her movements fluid and deliberate, and began to slide her shorts down her legs. Y/n’s breath hitched as she revealed herself fully, her body glistening under the sun.

She approached him again, her hips swaying hypnotically, and pressed herself against him. His hands instinctively went to her waist, gripping her tightly as she ground against him, her heat pressing into his growing hardness. “You’ve been busy with the others,” she said, her voice dripping with mock jealousy. “But today… you’re mine.”

Her lips captured his in a searing kiss, their tongues tangling as she pushed him backward until his knees hit the edge of a smooth rock. She broke the kiss, her eyes locking onto his as she gently pushed him down until he was seated. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she straddled him, her thighs caging his hips. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Let me show you…” she breathed, “…how I like it.”

Y/n’s hands gripped her hips as she began to move, grinding against him with a rhythm that was both teasing and maddening. Her breath hitched, her lips parting as she threw her head back, sunlight catching the beads of sweat forming on her neck. She was relentless, her movements growing more urgent as she sought her own pleasure, all while keeping him on the edge.

“Yeji…” he groaned, his voice strained with need. Her name escaped his lips like a prayer, and she smiled wickedly, savoring the way he trembled beneath her. She leaned in, capturing his lips once more, her tongue delving deep as her hips continued to move. The sound of the waves echoed around them, blending with their ragged breaths and muffled moans.

Finally, she reached down, her fingers wrapping around his length as she positioned him at her entrance. “Don’t hold back,” she commanded, her voice breaking slightly as she sank down onto him, inch by agonizing inch. Y/n’s hands flew to her hips, gripping her tightly as she took him fully, her walls clamping around him in a vice-like grip. She let out a low, satisfied moan, her body shuddering as she adjusted to his size.

Then, with a slow roll of her hips, she began to ride him, her pace steady and controlled. Her hands roamed over his chest, her nails leaving faint red lines as she moved. Y/n could do nothing but surrender to her rhythm, his groans mingling with hers as the tension between them built.

The heat of the sun above, the cool mist from the waves, and the intensity of her gaze—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Yeji’s pace quickened, her thighs gripping him tighter as she chased her release. “That’s it…” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Just like that…”

Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him as she cried out, her nails digging into his skin. The sensation of her tightening around him pushed Y/n over the edge, and with a guttural groan, he spilled himself inside her, his vision blurring as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Yeji collapsed against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as they both tried to catch their breath. The sound of the waves seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the rapid thud of their hearts.

After a moment, Yeji lifted her head, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of satisfaction and something softer—something that made his chest ache. “Not bad,” she murmured, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Yeji’s lips crashed against Y/n’s with a hunger that left him breathless. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn’t get enough of him. “I’ve been waiting for this,” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling with desire. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted you? How much I’ve needed you?”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt himself hardening again beneath her. She shifted her weight slightly, grinding against him as if to remind him of exactly what she was capable of. His hands instinctively found her waist, gripping her tightly as she leaned back just enough to guide his hands higher.

“Touch me,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding. “Love me.”

Her hands moved his until they were cupping her breasts, the softness of her skin a stark contrast to the firmness beneath. Y/n obeyed without hesitation, his fingers sliding over her nipples, teasing them until they hardened under his touch. Yeji’s breath hitched, and she arched her back, pressing herself further into his palms.

“Like that… yes,” she moaned, her head falling back as he leaned forward to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, coaxing another sharp gasp from her before he bit down gently. The sound she made—half a moan, half a whimper—was almost enough to break his composure entirely.

But Yeji wasn’t done. Her hips rolled against him, her wetness dripping onto his length as she teased him mercilessly. “Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice trembling with need. “I want all of you.”

Y/n didn’t need to be told twice. His hands tightened on her hips as he guided her down onto him, inch by torturous inch. Yeji gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she took him fully, her walls clenching around him like a vice. For a moment, they stayed still, their breaths mingling as they adjusted to the sensation.

Then, slowly at first, Yeji began to move. Her hips rose and fell in a steady rhythm, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of them. Y/n’s hands roamed her body, tracing every curve as if committing her to memory. He could feel the tension building inside him, but he forced himself to hold on, determined to make this last.

“You feel so good,” Yeji moaned, her voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

Her plea was all the encouragement he needed. His hands gripped her hips tighter, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her, matching her pace stroke for stroke. The sound of their bodies coming together echoed in the cove, mingling with the crash of the waves against the shore.

Yeji’s thighs trembled as she rode him, her pace quickening as she chased her release. “I’m close,” she gasped, her nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks. “So close…”

Y/n could feel her tightening around him, her climax imminent. With a groan, he let go, giving in to the pleasure that had been building inside him. Yeji cried out as she came, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. The sensation pushed him over the edge, and with a guttural groan, he spilled himself inside her, his vision blurring as he gave her everything he had.

They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Yeji rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. “That was… incredible,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Y/n chuckled softly, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’re incredible,” he replied, his voice hoarse from exertion.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as the world around them faded away. But then, slowly, Yeji lifted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Round three when we get back to the resort?” she teased, her lips curving into a wicked smile.

Y/n groaned, unable to suppress a laugh. “You’re going to kill me,” he said, though there was no real complaint in his tone.

Yeji just smirked, leaning down to kiss him once more before climbing off him and reaching for her clothes. As she dressed, Y/n couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight caught her skin, making her glow as if she were something otherworldly. When she was done, she turned to him, holding out a hand to help him up.

Together, they made their way back to the group, their steps slow and leisurely. Ryujin was the first to notice them, her eyes narrowing as she took in their disheveled state. A slow smirk spread across her face, and she nudged Chaeryeong, who was lounging nearby.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to join us,” Ryujin drawled, her tone dripping with amusement. “Enjoy your little walk, Yeji?”

Yeji blushed furiously, but she held her head high, refusing to give Ryujin the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassed. “None of your business,” she shot back, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way her voice wavered.

Ryujin laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, I think it’s very much my business. You two look… refreshed.”

Chaeryeong giggled, hiding her face behind her hands as Yuna glanced between them, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked innocently, though the faint blush on her cheeks suggested she might have an idea.

Ryujin winked at Yuna, her grin widening. “Oh, nothing, baby girl. Just grown-up stuff.”

Yeji groaned, burying her face in her hands as Y/n chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Alright, alright,” he said, trying to diffuse the situation before Ryujin could embarrass Yeji further. “Let’s get back to the resort. I think we could all use some rest.”

As they started walking back, Yeji leaned into him, her voice low so only he could hear. “I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Y/n smirked, his hand squeezing her hip gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But even as they walked, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from over. Not with Ryujin’s knowing looks, or the way Yuna kept glancing at him with that same curious expression. And definitely not with the promise Yeji had made about round three…

As they approached the resort, Ryujin fell into step beside him, her smirk never fading. “You know,” she said casually, “if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up spoiling her.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “And what makes you think I haven’t already?”

Ryujin laughed, shaking her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/n. But hey…” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If you ever want a little break from Yeji, you know where to find me.”

Before he could respond, she sauntered ahead, leaving him with a teasing wink and a whirlwind of thoughts. Yeji’s grip on his waist tightened, and she shot him a playful glare. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, though there was no real heat in her tone.

Y/n just smiled, pulling her closer as they stepped into the resort. The day was far from over, and if the looks he was getting from the others were any indication, things were about to get even more interesting…

[charmedimsure]

uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun

anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd

A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it

**this can be read as romantic or platonic**

You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.

"Sergeant?"

Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.

"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"

"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."

You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.

"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.

You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."

She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."

You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."

<>

You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.

You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.

While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.

Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.

"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."

Shit.

Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"

As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.

<>

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."

Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."

"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."

The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."

"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.

Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."

"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.

"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."

"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."

"I agree," Player 145 adds.

"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.

"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."

"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."

Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"

Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."

It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"

Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."

You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.

"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."

"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."

"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.

"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.

Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."

You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.

"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.

Gi-hun nods.

"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."

"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"

Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"

"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."

"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.

"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."

<>

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one."

The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.

You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.

There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.

The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.

You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.

You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.

You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.

You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"

The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.

Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.

"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.

You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.

"Retreat. Retreat."

The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.

"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.

Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.

"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.

"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."

Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.

Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"

You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.

"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.

You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.

<>

Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.

Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."

One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."

Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.

You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.

When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."

"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."

You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.

"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.

Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.

"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."

Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"

You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.

The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.

Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."

The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.

"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"

The guard just stares at him.

Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."

<>

"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."

Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"

You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.

"Cover me!"

You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.

When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.

As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"

The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."

Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"

"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.

"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.

You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.

You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.

You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.

A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.

"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.

You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.

"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.

"Go ahead!" Young-il says.

"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."

"We're running out of ammo, too!"

"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.

"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"

Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.

"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"

"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."

"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.

"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.

"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."

Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"

You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.

"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"

You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."

"Alright! We're counting on you!"

You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.

You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.

"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"

"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"

You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.

Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.

Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.

"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.

He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.

Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.

You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.

"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"

Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.

"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.

You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.

Never leave a man behind.

Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."

You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.

Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."

He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.

After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.

"What happened?"

Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.

You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.

Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You can't die like this."

You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.

As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5

[futfemfantasies]

A wedding to remember ~ Steph Catley x reader

Weddings in vineyards are always beautiful but it's something about the venue under the Australian sunset that makes it stand out. With fairy lights decorating the trees and rustic vibes from the wooden tables, Emily and Kat designed it perfectly. You watch the newlyweds have their first dance, a glass of champagne in hand, when you notice a familiar brunette join your other Matilda's teammates across the dance floor.

Steph has been in your life since you were teenagers. Growing closer when on camps together and sharing moments on and off the pitch. Between you both there has always been an unspoken connection that neither person wants to acknowledge. For many years now, there has been one complication for your friendship to progress further - Dean. You told yourself over and over again that there was no chance anything could happen. But Steph got engaged to Dean and you couldn't stand to see it so you move clubs to protect your feelings. Every camp for the national team you'd try to hide your feelings but many of your Matilda's teammates caught on quickly. Every time Steph glances your way, it becomes harder for you to keep those feelings settled.

The sun started to move behind the horizon and more people moved to the dance floor. You decided to stay back and watch, not really in a dancing mood. You heard heels click behind you and you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw the woman taking over your thoughts since you arrived.

“Hey stranger,” She said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to appear nervous.

Steph smiled small, but warm. “You've been hiding over here all night.”

“Just enjoying the view.” you said, gesturing to the many trees in the vineyard.

Steph nodded, looking at the sunset and dimly lit trees before facing you again. “You've been radio silent lately, is everything okay?”

“Just a lot on my mind I guess.” you hesitated. Steph studied you, her expression unreadable.

“You know you can talk to me about anything?”

“I know.” you whisper before going to see your other Matilda's teammate.

Emily insisted that all the Matilda's are to go on the dance floor at least once during the night. Ellie dragged you on there, declaring you needed to ‘loosen up’. After pushing through the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on. As you dance around with Ellie, she gives you a slight nod to look behind you. Steph was there with her hand outstretched, silently asking you to dance as the music got slower. You hesitate for a millisecond before taking Steph's hand. Time seemed to slow as Steph guided you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed your hand on her waist, trying to ignore all the feelings inside. Neither of you spoke for a while, just gently swaying with the soft melody, until Steph broke the silence.

“Dean and I broke up.” she said, voice quiet but steady.

You stopped in your tracks, looking Steph in the eyes. “what?”

“It's been coming for a while,” Steph admitted. “We both knew it wasn't working anymore,” Before you could respond she continued.

“I've been thinking a lot about what I want - about what makes me happy,” Her eyes met yours, hands tighten around your waist. “and it's you.”

Your breath hitched, as the weight of her words started to settle in. “Steph…”

“Follow me.”

Steph untangles from you and pushes her way through the crowd. You follow behind like a lost puppy until you get a little bit away from the reception. Steph pulls you in her arms and you search her face for any hint of doubt. There was only honesty and Hope.

“I've wanted to say this for so long,” you admit, as your voice trembled. “but I didn't think I could.”

Steph hold your face in one of her hands as she smiled, “well, now you can.”

With that, the distance between you became non-existent. the music Fading Into the background and all you can focus on is her. you both lean in and the wedding slowly forgotten as you two were caught up in each other.

The kiss under the stars changes everything. For the first time, the barriers between you and Steph crumble. As you pull back, your foreheads resting together, Steph smiles—a real, unforgettable smile that feels like home.

“We can’t keep this just for tonight,” she says softly.

You nod, your heart pounding. “I don’t want to.”

The rest of the wedding fades into a blur. You and Steph spend the next few days together, slipping away from the chaos to steal quiet moments just for yourselves. Long walks along the beach, lazy afternoons in the sun, and late-night conversations filled with laughter and shared memories remind you both of what you’ve always had—and what you could have.

As the offseason looms, you both return to Europe, reluctant to leave the bubble you’ve created but excited to see what the future holds. Steph heads back to London, while you return to Barcelona, the distance between you feeling more manageable now than ever before.

The transfer window is in full swing, and rumors are flying about player moves. You’ve kept your decision close to your chest, wanting to surprise Steph when the time is right. The deal with Arsenal has been finalised, and the announcement is just days away.

With the help of Caitlin and Katie, you arrange to meet Steph at one of your favorite coffee spots in London. She’s already seated at a corner table when you arrive, her face lighting up the moment she sees you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she says, standing to hug you.

You grin, nerves bubbling under the surface. “I have a surprise.”

“Oh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as you both sit.

You slide an Arsenal scarf out of your bag and place it on the table between you. Steph stares at it for a moment, her eyes widening as realisation dawns.

“No way,” she says, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

“Way,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “The transfer is all finalised. I’m joining Arsenal next season.”

Steph laughs, leaning back in her chair as she takes it all in. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” you say. “Thought it was time for a change—and maybe time to be closer to you.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table to take your hand. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Summary: It’s been a few days since the war ended, Caitlyn is recovering from her injuries. Despite that, she still has the responsibilities of a Kiramman that weigh upon her. Luckily, she has you to ground her.

A/N: Love my wife DOWN—this is a bit long cause I just love writing from her perspective (in a way). This is her late birthday present :3

She looked through the scope of the sniper with her remaining eye, focused on the target; the bright red spot in the middle of the silhouette head.

Bang!

The golden bullet soared through the air, the Kiramman crest implanted on it shining through the air. A quick swish interrupting the silent atmosphere.

It missed the bullseye, by a few inches.

Dammit.

She growled under her breath, looking down at her sniper. The sound of it slamming onto the ground echoed through the empty room.

She’s been in here for quite a while, hours. She didn’t get a single shot but was determined to stay until she got one. Talk about stubborn.

She’s known for her excellent shooting skills, one of the best in Piltover. And now…she can’t even hit a single bullseye.

What a disappointment.

What would Grayson think, seeing the girl she trained in shooting, not even able to hit the target?

What would her mother think? Her daughter had done so much damage. Went against her morals and now deeply regretted it, the amount of guilt she felt is a consequence itself.

What a disappointment.

She attempted to take deep breaths, a practice she’s been working on with you. But the feelings kept bubbling up, like an active volcano, on the verge of a damaging explosion. So caught up in her thoughts, the sound of your footsteps didn’t register.

“Cait?,” you tilted your head into the room, watching her stiff form slightly relax at the sound of your voice. She didn’t look back, shame settling in from her outburst.

“Baby, you’ve been in here for hours, it’s starting to get late,” you spoke to her gently, being careful not to aggravate her any further.

“I still have work to do,” the words came out in a cold tone. She turned her head in your direction, didn’t look at you.

A sigh is all she received in return. “Don’t stay up all night,” with that, you walked back down the hall; heading to the bedroom.

The room was incredibly spacious, its tall ceilings and wide walls created a relaxing environment. In the middle was her bed, a queen size, large enough for the both of you.

Her wealth was a privilege, she is privileged. She realized at a very young age, not everyone has what she has. And that always plagued her thoughts, especially when she first saw Zaun’s condition.

Do your part, help those who are oppressed under this system.

It was always felt like her responsibility.

—★—

In her office, Caitlyn stared at the letter in front of her, sent by the council. She hasn’t visited a meeting ever since she declared her position as a decorated officer; firmly explaining her objectives to take down the system in Zaun.

Dear Ms. Kiramman,

We call you to a mandatory meeting, tomorrow at noon. There are many issues to be discussed.

- The Piltovian Council

She bit the inside of her cheek, going over the words several times. Ever since her mother’s passing, the chair was passed onto her. Although, Mel, near a sister to her, advised that she took the time to grieve, so much for that.

The mage was going to leave for Noxus, it saddened her, even if she would visit and send letters; it wouldn’t be the same.

She isn’t completely lonely, she has her father, and you of course. It’s like an itch, it won’t go away.

Maybe it’s because the older woman was the sister she always wanted. Similar to how Jayce was the brother she never had. Now he’s gone…left another hole that she can’t fill.

—★—

It was past midnight, the cold air from the open balcony door provided at least a touch of fresh air. You forced yourself to stay awake, waiting until Caitlyn came back to bed. Even while in and out of sleep, she was the first thing on your mind; knowing she was cooped up in her office, trying to rush through paperwork that wasn’t due until weeks from now. She’s been working herself to the bone. You were afraid that if she kept pushing and pushing, her body would drop from exhaustion.

The door creaked as it slowly opened then shut. She stood there for a moment to test if you were awake; she got her answer when you turned around to look at her. The dark lighting of the room preventing you from seeing her features.

The sheets crinkled under you as you got up from the bed; taking her hand and leading her to her bathroom. “I know you haven’t been properly taking care of yourself. I can smell it,” you scrunched up your nose, attempting to lighten up the mood. The slightest smile traced her lips but faded as fast as it came.

You carefully undressed her, revealing her bare body, nothing you haven’t seen before. Your finger traced the stitches of where she had gotten stabbed; trailing it back to her eyepatch.

“You can take it off, you know?” You looked at the patch that matched her hair. You had to admit, it was adorable.

All she did was give a single nod, slowly removing it—the hidden eye finally seeing the light. Doctors had to perform a tarsorrhaphy, as her eye would not be able to close on its own.

It didn’t bother you because it ‘altered’ her appearance but that she would struggle. Her depth perception was poor, she wasn’t able to navigate how far away objects are. It hurts your heart to see that she’s been getting so frustrated with herself and having occasional outbursts.

You zoned back into reality when she turned on the hot water, steam soon filling the room. She didn’t like her showers just hot but boiling. It concerned you at one point of how her skin didn’t get irritated.

She stepped in and her shoulders slightly dropped, bowing her head down. Stepping in behind her, you grabbed her wash cloth and lathered it in soap.

You rubbed the cloth against her body, cleansing her skin. She moaned quietly out of relief, she really needed this.

—★—

A strangled gasp escaped her mouth; gasping for air as she awakened. The nightmare playing on repeat in her mind.

Jinx. Torture. Gun to her head.

She hardly talked to you about her time with Jinx. How deeply it affected her. Her mother’s death was the tip of the iceberg. What that girl did to her haunted her every night afterwards, she couldn’t even bathe by herself. It was you that got into the shower every night and protected her from the hallucinations that lingered.

You knew what happened as soon as you felt her jolt. Reaching to the nightstand and flicking on the lamp, partially lighting the room. You could see her clearly.

Her chest moving up and down with every breath she took. The sweat dripping against her pale skin. How her eye was wide and scanning the room as if cautiously looking for somebody.

She sighed, lying her head back down on the pillow. “I’m sorry..” she whispered, the words cracking like an object under pressure. “I—I know I’ve been distant as of late. I just…everything’s coming back to me. It’s overwhelming, like I’m suffocating.”

Pressing your body against hers, you held a hand to her cheek, gently stroking your thumb near the eyepatch. She leaned into your touch, her eye closing at the soft sensation of your palm—savoring it.

“You’ve been through so much, we both have, and that’s not stopping me from loving you.” You lift her head to where she’d meet your gaze.

Water swelled up in her eye, though she tried to blink it away, a tear still fell. You didn’t wipe it away, instead letting it linger.

“I’m here,” your soft whisper caused her to finally break. Her eyes squinting as she let out a quiet sob, burying her face into your neck. It’s the one place where she felt safe, secure. Your hand rested on the back of her head, stroking the deep blue hair.

“I…” she sniffled, “I don’t deserve you.” You never wanted to hear those words coming out of her mouth. Sure, maybe she didn’t deserve you, her actions needed to come with consequence. But from what you’ve seen, she’s been beating herself up over this.

And after all that she’s been through, you never gave up on her. Even if her grief led her actions, resulting in chaos.

You were determined, and that’s what she loved most about you.

“Nothing will stray me away, okay? We’ll get through this together.” You looked down at her for confirmation. She lifted her head, giving a small nod.

She slowly wiped her tears away, “I think I need a break,” she admitted with a humorless laugh. “I’ve been so focused on trying to fix everything that I set unrealistic expectations. I can’t do everything but…what am I going to do?” She looked into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“What you need to do is take it slow, progress doesn’t come immediately. Patience is the most valuable thing you can have right now.”

The words seemed to get through to her, thankfully. But all she really wanted—needed right now, is you.

You laid back down on the soft but firm mattress, pulling her down with you. “Try and get some actual rest,” her head rested on your chest, cheek pressed again it. Her long legs tangling around your frame, pulling you closer as to mold herself into you.

“I love you..” her muffled words vibrated across your body. “I love you too,” you smiled as your eyes began to close.

She couldn’t ask for anything better.

A/N: Definitely the longest fic I’ve written in a while, it shows how much I love her!

[gorgeys]

secret admirers ★ jackieshauna x fem!reader

jackie learns she's not the only one with a hopeless crush on you

warnings: jackieshauna being girlfails (what's new??)

word count: 1350

a/n: based on the lake scene from s1 bc they both look so fucking good omg

jackie lies comfortably on a towel on the rocky shore of the lake.  mari is talking to her about... something, but it's all been a blur since you pulled your shirt over your head and carelessly threw it beside her.

her eyes feast on the curves of your body as you step further into the lake, your mismatch brown bra and pink underwear the only fabrics covering your body.  she feels like a perv for looking so intently, but she can't help but notice how low the waistband of your panties sits on your hips and the slight flexion of your toned thighs with each step you take deeper into the water.

she could watch you for hours, she thinks, leaning back onto her elbow.  her eyes follow you as you prance over to lottie and dunk your head under the surface.  when you emerge, throwing your hair behind you and slicking it back with your hands, jackie forgets how to breathe.  she thinks that wrapping her arms around you from behind and leaving wet kisses on your shoulder might save her.

jackie is pulled from her fantasies when she catches shauna in her line of sight a few yards farther out than you.  although it appeared at first glance that shauna was looking at her, jackie soon notices shauna's eyes lingering on you.

shauna looks so focused, like you're some kind of animal she's studying and she's thinking long and hard about what to do with you next.  she barely moves at all as she watches you, one of her brows furrowed in concentration and her lips tightly pressed together.  when you spin in a circle, splashing and giggling, her lips barely part and jackie barely catches it.  her big brown eyes seem to grow even bigger and, if jackie was closer, she would see shauna's pupils dilating.

jackie's confused for a moment.  she knows that look in shauna's eyes.  it means shauna hates you.  or she...

"fuck," jackie mumbles under her breath.

"what was that?" mari asks, confused.

"oh, nothing," jackie reassures her with the nonchalant wave of her hand.  she looks over at mari for a second before she continues and jackie's eyes immediately return to the situation in front of her.

shauna likes you.  in the same way that she likes you.

she feels so stupid.  how could she not have realized this earlier?

jackie had been harboring her crush on you for a while, but only confessed it to shauna a month ago when she just couldn't hold it in any longer.  she was terrified of shauna's reaction, but after the words left jackie's lips like word vomit, all shauna could say was "oh."

at the time, jackie just thought shauna was surprised by the fact jackie liked girls, but now, that "oh" had a completely different meaning.  now, when jackie replayed the moment in her head, shauna's "oh" sounded less shocked and more disappointed.  how long had shauna been crushing on you?  and why hadn't shauna told her?

all the times she had seen the two of you together came rushing back to jackie, from the deep conversations at parties where your thighs pressed together on the couch, to walking into the locker room together with shoulders bumping.  it was no coincidence that every time you weren't by her side, you were with shauna.

she remembers watching the two of you from across the room and seeing shauna's barely evident smile every time you laughed.  jackie just thought she was being nice.

she remembers rambling to shauna about you and all your cute little quirks.  she remembers how uncomfortable and stiff shauna had been as soon as your name was mentioned.  like she had something to hide.

that fucking bitch, jackie thinks, glaring daggers through shauna's face.  you were hers.   shauna should know that better than anyone.  but jackie did know that shauna liked to steal things right out from under her.  apparently you were no different.

shauna, feeling eyes on her, lets her own eyes stray from you and finds jackie already staring at her.

knowing jackie like the back of her hand, shauna instantly knows she's caught.  the frown on jackie's face is unmistakable and anger pours out of her hooded eyes.

"fuck," shauna whispers to herself, immediately closing her parted lips.  jackie looks like she's going to eat her alive and shauna has no response other than looking slightly ashamed.

but it's not her fault that you're...you, she thinks.  it's not her fault that your smile lights up a room and that her skin burns wherever you touch her.  you're not a want, but an insatiable need.

shauna knows jackie feels the same thing.  after all, jackie's crush on you was so much more obvious than shauna's.  jackie was always touching you, whether it was bumping her hip against yours to get your attention or clutching onto your arm anywhere and everywhere.  jackie always laughed extra hard at your jokes and wore a stupid smile all day when you complimented her.  she was basically throwing herself at you, so much so that some of the other girls had started to notice; shauna observed the way they exchanged glances when jackie praised you a little too much to be friendly.  it was a wonder you didn't know yet.

on the other hand, shauna liked to applaud herself for being more subtle and perhaps more intellectual than jackie.  she gazed at you from across the room unbeknownst you, admiring each of your little habits.  she saved you a seat at team dinners and remembered your favorite drink to buy it for you after practice.  she overheard you talking to tai about a movie you wanted to see and then casually asked if you wanted to go watch it with her that friday night, trying to act surprised by your excitement.

that was another thing: jackie always raved to shauna about the one-on-one time she spent with you, whether it was study dates or midnight snacks at the local diner.  it made shauna's stomach bubble with jealousy.

on the other hand, shauna was secretive about the time the two of you spent together.

shauna quietly wondered if you looked up from your notebook at jackie the same way you glanced at her at the movies.  or if your hand brushed jackie's over the diner table the same way your fingers grazed hers on the armrest.

if only jackie hadn't complicated things by telling shauna about her little massive crush on you.  jackie was never one to make things simple for shauna.

shauna knows jackie wants to keep her subdued, always lurking in her shadow.  so whether consciously or subconsciously, jackie's crush on you is another way for jackie to assert her dominance in their friendship.

because shauna was crushing on you first, right? so technically, you were hers first.

or did jackie's crush come first?  the timeline is unclear.

their staring contest ends when shauna turns her back on jackie, feeling too small under her gaze.  shauna looks toward the horizon for a moment before she sneaks another glance at you.

jackie's hands dig into the sand, grasping at the grains with pure frustration.  she eases slightly when she finds you peacefully floating on your back, completely oblivious to the tension between your two admirers.

it was almost pathetic how they each laid claim to you in their own heads, but neither had the courage to show their feelings in a way that wasn't playful flirting or longing gazes.  so both watched on, savoring you with their eyes.

they each secretly hoped for reassurance.  a sign of some sort that you wanted them too.  that's all it would take before they were muffling your words with a kiss and throwing themselves at your feet.

but now things were more complicated: who exactly did you want?

can you guys tell that all i want is for hot girls to be obsessed w me

[jina1028]

Right one

Taesan x fem!reader

Word count: 4.7K

Categories: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn (sorry it's so long), smut, virgin reader, older reader, daddy/mommy said as joke, kissing, cuddling, making out, handjob but not really (?), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this irl), creampie, tell me if I missed something.

This fic is based on this anon request, hope this somewhat meets your expectations 🫶

English is not my first language, so constructive criticism is appreciated!

Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated but don't repost!

The characters and facts described in this fic don't represents real people or events.

🚫 MDNI 🚫

~♡~

“You know what, we should go on a trip together!”

Your best friend Dongmin - or Taesan, like you used to call him in your friends group because of his height - suggested after a long talk about how your lives had felt stressful lately.

You had broken up with your boyfriend about a month ago, finding out he had been cheating on you with two different girls. Not that you had lost much since you dated for about four months, but still it hurt so much when you thought you were on the same page, thinking about possibly having a future together, while he fooled around behind your back.

As for Taesan, he was tired from university exams and his part time job at a convenience store, and he was finally having a break from both in two weeks, according to what he was saying.

“I don't know… What kind of trip? I've never traveled with friends before.”

Taesan pursed his lips and rested his chin on his palm, humming as he criss crossed his long legs sitting on your couch with his elbows on his knees.

"Uhm, what if we go to Japan? Tokyo? Osaka? Both?”

Your head snapped to look at him with wide eyes, so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“Oh you meant a trip abroad?”

“So what, it's a short trip by plane.”

“Yeah but… it's gonna be more expensive if we gotta buy tickets, and hotel rooms…”

“Well, it's not like it would be much cheaper if we went, I don't know, to Busan by train, or Jeju… We'll need hotel rooms anyway, unless you wanna share a room with a man.”

You stared at him, thinking about his proposal about Japan.

“Fine, sounds good!”

He looked taken aback for a moment, widening his eyes to look at you.

“You really wanna share a room with me?” he pointed at his own chest.

You sighed, rolling your eyes “Not that, I was talking about going to Japan, let's do it!”

And so it was settled, you decided for Tokyo in the end, you booked your hotel rooms and flight tickets, and two weeks later you were there.

On your first day you just walked around Akihabara, looking into stores and chilling into cute cafes, where you insisted on him to wear cat ears and commenting on how cute he looked, trying to reach your hand to pet his head as he swatted it away, frowning and pouting, making you giggle at how he looked even cuter like that.

Later you just found a nice place to have a quick dinner and called it a day since you both were tired.

“You wanna sleep right away? I can keep you company and watch something on netflix if you're not too tired.”

You pondered Taesan's offer but decided to part ways at your door since you felt exhausted.

“I think I'll just take a shower and head to bed.” You yawned, waving and saying goodnight to your friend.

That night, as much as you felt drained of your energies, you couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, blaming it on the different bed, even though you had to admit the bed felt like a cloud. So what was the problem?

You grabbed your phone from the night stand and typed a message to your friend.

You asleep?

You waited for a bit but received no reply, so you just sighed and scrolled through your socials, waiting for morning to arrive so you could wake him up too early instead of waiting for his alarm to go off.

You started getting ready at 5.30 A.M. just so you didn't waste time after waking up Taesan.

When it was 6.30 A.M. you decided you had waited enough, so you called him.

You had to try twice before he picked up the phone, his groggy, raspy voice greeting you on the other side.

“Hello?”

“Good morning! Rise and shine, we have places to go, come on!”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“It's 6 fucking 30. Leave me alone.”

You felt your eyebrow ticking.

“You have no respect for your elders, do you?”

Silence again. He hung up. You sighed, getting up from the bed where you sat and went straight to his room next to yours, knocking on the white colored PVC.

You knocked again until you heard noises and curses behind the door, Taesan’s tall figure soon standing in front of you, holding the shin he had just hit on the furniture on his way to the door.

His hair was a mess, eyes half closed, a frown on his face as he hissed because of the pain.

When he straightened up you couldn't help but notice his pants tenting as your eyes shifted up from his injured shin to his face.

“Uhm, will you take care of your friend here before taking me into your room, please?” you teased him.

He looked down, then up again into your eyes with a half smirk on his lips.

“It's rude to just stare without shaking hands when you first meet someone, my friend is offended.”

“Dude, just go to the bathroom and do your stuff, let's meet downstairs!”

You hoped you hid your flustered expression well enough and stormed off without waiting for a reply.

The fact was, you were attracted to Taesan, he was good looking of course, and you felt some kind of chemistry around him. But you always thought it was one sided, and not wanting to ruin your friendship you always ignored the butterflies whenever he got closer to you or he pulled some flirtatious joke. The trip together seemed fun, until you started to realize being so close to him all the time was starting to get difficult on your part.

“So, what are we gonna do today? Any ideas?” Taesan approached you sitting on the sofa at the reception, scaring you as you were lost in thought.

You observed his relaxed features as you recovered from the jumpscare, hand resting on your chest.

“Oh, you don't seem grumpy anymore…”

He smiled innocently at you “Yeah, I took a nice, refreshing shower and now I feel great… So, where do we go today?”

You tried to ignore the subtle implication in Taesan's reply, your mind briefly going back to his accidental morning wood reveal.

“I was looking through the brochures at the reception and I really wanna try this onsen.”

You showed him the brochure where it described the type of service, the cost and how to reach your destination, which was a bit outside the city towards the mountains.

Taesan read a bit through it and eyed you raising his brows “You know we're supposed to be naked in there, right?”

“Yeah I know, but it's fine as long as we can cover ourselves somehow, like with a towel or something… And we can have a private room with its little private pool so we don't have to be naked in front of a lot of people like it normally would be!” you explained with your index finger raised.

“Somehow that's even worse…”

“What?” you couldn't hear him talking to himself.

“Nothing, if you really wanna go…”

“Yeah, I can't leave Japan without trying a real onsen!”

So after a couple of hours you were at the onsen reception, renting your private room and your bathrobes and ordering some food since you didn't have breakfast yet.

You both changed outfits and went to your room with food and drinks in hand, relieved to at least find some towels next to the little pool.

You ate chatting about what to do for dinner once you get back to the city, but when you finished your food the room fell silent.

“Well… Should we get in now?”

Taesan questioned, looking at you as he undid the belt on his bathrobe and started sliding it off his broad shoulders.

You panicked “Wait! Not in front of me! At least grab a towel first!”

You didn't know where to put your hands, on your whole face or in front of his crotch to block the dangerous area from your sight.

Taesan laughed out loud “Relax, I was just kidding, I'm not gonna flash you like this!”

“You little moron…” you cursed at him under your breath as he kept snickering, getting up to get a towel for himself and another one which he tossed at your face, trying to lighten the atmosphere and bring back your usual bickering mood.

You felt your face burning up as you told him to turn around while you wrapped yourself in the white towel and he did the same covering his waist and crotch.

You tried not to ogle at his broad chest, not wanting to get caught and give yourself away. You were starting to regret suggesting this kind of activity, overestimating your control over your emotions and body reactions, the butterflies in your stomach storming around, making you almost nauseous.

You both carefully dipped into the hot water, keeping your towels secured around your bodies and you tried to relax, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths as you rested your head on a smooth rock.

It was silent for a while and your mind started wandering until you felt like sharing some of your concerns with Taesan, who was sitting with his arms spread on the edge of the pool, eyes closed.

“Hey… I was thinking, what would you do if your girlfriend didn't have sex with you even after months into the relationship?”

“What kind of question is this?” Taesan furrowed his brows.

“Just think about it and answer. Would you cheat on her? Wait until she feels like doing it? What would you do?”

“Wait for her to feel safe with me, of course.”

You opened your eyes, side eyeing him as he still rested his head on the edge of the pool with his eyes closed.

“Be honest, I won't judge you…”

“I'm being honest, if I was into a relationship I would have love and respect for her, if I ever feel the need to cheat on my girlfriend, why keep the relationship going in the first place?”

“Right, that's a good point!”

“And” he continued “much before starting to think about cheating, which makes no sense to me, I'd try and understand why my girlfriend doesn't want to have sex with me, if I think that's an issue.”

“What if she's just scared… ‘Cause she's a virgin?” You eyed him, his eyes now open, staring at the plants next to the pool as he thought about his answer.

“I'd try to make her feel safe, and try not to make her feel pressured into doing it until she feels ready.”

He then shifted his gaze on your eyes “I'd feel honored to be her first, so I'd patiently wait for her.”

You hummed, letting his words resonate in your head, while you slowly slipped under the hot water surface, your nose barely out as you started feeling dizzy and closing your eyes. You could barely hear Taesan's voice calling your name as the heat got to your head and made you faint.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself laying on the wooden floor next to the pool, Taesan kneeling next to you, holding up your legs and fanning your face with the uchiwa the onsen provided you earlier.

He called your name again, a clearly worried expression on his face while you gradually regained conscience and he breathed a relieved sigh as you called his name and assured him you were fine.

“Lay there and keep your legs up, I'm calling the staff.”

“No no, I'm ok, just ask for some shaved ice so I can eat it and cool down a bit!”

“You sure?” Taesan eyed you suspiciously as he grabbed the phone.

“Yeah, I feel a lot better here outside the pool. I want melon on the shaved ice!”

He hummed, calling for room service, his eyes never leaving you as you kept fanning yourself.

“I'm ordering some cold noodles as well since it's lunch time already.”

The rest of the morning passed as you ate and relaxed, cooling down as Taesan constantly kept an eye on you, insisting on going back to the hotel right after lunch so you could rest in your room.

He allowed you some privacy just so you both could take a shower in your respective rooms then insisted on keeping you company watching netflix from the tablet in your room until dinner, which you ordered once again with room service.

“What do you wanna do after dinner?” you asked while chewing on your chicken skewers.

"What do you mean? We're staying in your room tonight, I wanna be sure you're not fainting again.”

“But-”

“We'll see what to do tomorrow morning after you rest.” Taesan stared at you.

“Ok daddy…” you teased him.

“Don't call me that, you're older than me, it makes me cringe.”

“You're implying you wouldn't mind me calling you daddy if I were younger?”

“It's not like that… How’d you react if I called you mommy?”

You almost choked on your water, a playful smirk on Taesan's lips as he watched you try to regain some composure.

“It's so fun, you always start shit then get flustered when I play your own game…” He got up from the chair and reached for the door.

“Gonna brush my teeth, I'll be right back. Find something to watch on netflix in the meantime.”

When you let him in your room again he went straight to your bed, fixing a pillow behind his back and watching you expectantly, making room next to him as you joined.

You chose something light to watch, just so you could relax before bed, all the while Taesan kept you close to him with his arm around your shoulders, stroking your arm gently and eventually resting his cheek on the side of your head, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo.

You felt so warm, your cheeks heating up as you weren't used to such closeness, even though you enjoyed it.

When the movie was over and Taesan started moving to get up you suddenly clung to him and caged his arms and legs tangling yours together.

“Don't go, please…”

“What now, you wanna sleep together?”

When you didn't reply but just squeezed him more he squirmed just enough to free himself a bit and be able to look at your face, which you tried to hide against his chest, your eyes suddenly welling up with tears at the thought of being alone the whole night after the scare of that morning.

“Wait, you really want me to stay?”

“Don't laugh at me, I'm scared to be alone, ok?” You defended yourself.

“I'm not laughing at you. It's just, you acted so tough I thought I was the only one being worried… You really got scared, huh?”

He hugged you as you nodded your head as a reply.

“I'm sleeping here tonight if you want me to, don't worry.”

You eventually found yourself clawing at his white shirt like you were scared he would run away, as he shifted on his side to face you and get closer to you, his arm resting on your waist as you intertwined your leg between his.

After a while you thought he fell asleep as he didn't move anymore.

“Taesan…” you whispered and got no reply, but you continued anyway murmuring a little louder “Thanks, I really feel safe with you.”

He surprised you as he moved his arm, taking your hand into his big one, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles as you stopped breathing for a second.

“I'm glad, I really care about you, even though I always nag you…”

You chuckled “I like it, secretly…”

“And secretly, I like you… A lot.” Taesan confessed, looking at you in the faint light coming from the city outside the window.

“You better never scare me again like you did today, ok?”

He held you closer to his chest as he pressed his lips on your forehead, his warmth somewhat comforting even in the warm early summer weather.

You snuggled closer to him if that was even possible and raised your head, your noses brushing together as you gazed at him in the faint light, silently asking for him to cross the already blurry line between friendship and something more.

And he finally did, cupping your warm cheek into his large hand, holding you like he was scared to hurt you, as he brushed his lips against yours, then pressing them together when he felt your arms gripping his shirt, nails lightly scratching his back through the thin fabric.

You both sighed as you parted from the brief kiss, knowing your relationship would change forever and there was no going back.

You smiled as he pecked your lips again and again, his hands wandering until one rested on your hip, his thumb brushing your exposed skin as your pink shirt rode up your waist.

You hummed against his lips as his hand slid to the back of your thigh, hoisting it up to hook around his own thigh, his kisses now becoming more hot and passionate, your little positive sounds and reactions spurring him on.

His wet tongue slipped past your parted lips as you threaded your fingers through his dark locks, your making out more and more intense as he subtly started to roll his hips against yours.

And you felt it, his stiff bulge pressing against your clothed heat, eliciting a shy moan from you as his movements put pressure on your clit, a damp spot starting to form on your panties now.

This was all new to you, you never felt comfortable enough to go past some kissing with your ex.

You felt scared and safe at the same time, you felt an intimate connection with Taesan you'd never felt with anyone else before.

His soft lips and tongue sent sparks through your body as he kept kissing you with fervor, then he moved to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, as he pushed you to lay on your back, slotting himself between your spread legs, hips rolling and pressing down on you.

You couldn't stop your moans when he found a sensitive spot on your neck, sucking and biting on it, goosebumps forming on your body and shivers making you squirm under his weight.

Taesan stopped after a while, sliding his hands under the hem of your shirt and looking at you, making sure you still felt comfortable as he lifted your shirt above your chest and helped you remove it, revealing your white, lacey bra, his breath catching in his throat as he admired you.

“Don't stare…” your feeble voice snapped him out of his awestruck state and he smiled at you, looking directly into your eyes.

“Sorry…” he apologized before lifting his own shirt above his head, thinking if he was naked as well you would feel a bit less self conscious.

And it worked, your mind too preoccupied deciding whether or not to stare at his abs, or chest or just focus on his eyes.

Then your wandering eyes fell on the obvious tent in his grey sweats, your bottom lip between your teeth as you ogled it, curious to know how it would look if he was completely naked, if it really was as big as it looked while still restrained in his pants.

Taesan followed your gaze, noticing how you subtly squirmed, not being able to rub your thighs together as they were spread around his legs while he kneeled in front of you.

He then gently took your hand in his and put it on his abs just above the waistband, suggesting you touch him where he needed it most, but still not wanting to force you.

You looked up at him and then back down again where your hand rested, pressing a little and dragging it down to stroke on top of his bulge, experimentally wrapping your fingers around it as best as you could while it was still clothed.

It felt hot, hard and big, almost heavy as you curiously seized it, moving your hand slowly up and down.

You heard a groan leaving his throat as your thumb reached above the tip and pressed a bit, continuing your experimental strokes when Taesan suddenly wrapped his fingers around your wrist to stop your movements, using his other hand to pull down his sweats and reveal a wet patch on the side of his grey boxers, where his swollen tip sat, painfully restrained by the fabric.

He brought your hand on his clothed shaft again, your palm now damp with his precum as you resumed your strokes, looking up at him as he spoke, voice unusually raspy and strained.

“See what you do to me? Think I'll go insane… fuck-”

He cursed as you pressed your thumb under his slit, his shaft twitching as you kept stroking until he had to grab your wrist and stop you, already close to release.

You looked at him, concerned that maybe you did something wrong.

“Feels too good, don't wanna cum in my pants…” he chuckled as he pushed you down on the mattress once more, kissing you, tongues tangling together as he slowly reached a hand to massage on your breast through the fabric of your bra, eliciting a moan as his fingers brushed on your nipple, his hand then inching down to your blue shorts, slowly slipping his fingers past your waistband, observing your reaction as you took shaky breaths through your slightly agape lips.

He grasped the waistband and pulled your shorts down, revealing your white panties as he smirked, noticing how they matched your bra and asking himself if it was possible you actually planned this beforehand.

Taesan took a moment to admire you as you tried to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly feeling shy, before he reached his hand between your legs to caress your heat through the fabric, sliding his index and middle finger down your folds, feeling how your wetness pooled on the seat of your panties, the small squelching sounds leaving no doubts as he moved his fingers slowly up and down and in slow circles around your clit, little moans and whines filling his ears as he went back to kissing and sucking on your neck.

You suddenly felt his fingers pulling your panties to the side, his digits sliding through your wet folds as he groaned in your neck, nibbling and pulling on the skin, his fingers slowly circling your entrance until you felt his middle finger slowly prodding at your tight hole.

You gasped as he slowly and gently pushed inside, not expecting him to push to the knuckle but he did, stilling as you adjusted to the intrusion, then slowly starting to massage your walls, slightly curling it and pressing it upward until he found your most sensitive spot, signaled by your moans increasing in volume and frequency.

As you were still a virgin, you felt incredibly full just with one finger so you got a bit apprehensive when Taesan carefully started pushing his second digit along his middle finger as he slowly pumped in and out, your walls tight around it.

You grabbed his wrist stilling his movement before he could properly push his second digit inside.

“Wait, I- I think it’ll be too much… I'm not… Used to it.”

Taesan kissed your forehead and locked eyes with you, his face still close to yours, sharing the same air as you breathed heavily.

“This is your first time, right?”

You knew Taesan was not dumb, he would put two and two together after the apparently random talk that morning about cheating and virginity, so you just nodded without questions, still looking into his brown eyes.

“You still want me to be your first?”

“Yes.” You replied without hesitation.

“Please, trust me. I'll make you feel so good, I promise…”

You nodded before he closed the gap and kissed you slowly, your tongues chasing each other as he resumed his fingers’ movements, your muscles eventually relaxing and he took it as a sign to push his second finger in.

And so he did, carefully stretching you as the initial burn subsided and you started enjoying the sensation of his fingers curling and pressing around your warm walls.

He kept at it for a while, your hips eventually moving on their own as you started clenching around his digits, your climax slowly approaching, when a whine left your mouth, his fingers retracting from your wet warmth before you could reach your high.

Taesan brushed a hand on your hair and pecked your lips as he pulled down your underwear, his own following soon, leaving both of you naked except for your bra.

He grabbed one of your thighs, his still wet fingers dipping in the plush of your skin as his grip tightened and he wrapped it around his waist.

Like that you finally felt his shaft directly pressing against your core, and soon you understood why he insisted on stretching you out a bit more with his fingers.

His swollen tip struggled to slip past your tight entrance as he tried to guide it inside of you using his hand.

“Baby, relax, you're so tight…”

His tip was barely halfway in when he started massaging your clit, more wetness seeping around your entrance as he slowly pushed, feeling your muscles spasming, relaxing just to tighten again and again around his tip, but he eventually managed to fit inside, pausing for a moment, breathing heavily as you got accustomed to the feeling and he kept massaging your swollen clit.

“Doing so good, taking me so well…” he praised you, kissing your cheek as you panted and whimpered as he slowly started moving his hips again, moving back a little, spreading your arousal and pushing back a little more, your walls gripping him every time he tried to pull out a bit, until he felt he could push a little bit more roughly and he did, unable to hold back anymore as he finally bottomed out and he started thrusting as gently as his pleasure filled mind could allow.

The stretch felt unfamiliar but enjoyable as he dragged his shaft in and out, hitting deeply, spurred on by your moans and whimpers, your nails finding purchase on his neck and back.

Then you heard your own voice like it was someone else speaking, urging him to give you more, to fuck you harder, to come inside of you and make you his.

“You sure? Want me to- ugh- fuck you harder? Like this?” Taesan punctuated his words with hard thrusts as he grabbed both your legs and put them on his shoulders, almost folding you in half into the mattress.

You couldn't recognize your own voice as you moaned loudly with each deep thrust, your eyes squeezing shut as you finally came hard on his pistoning shaft, your walls convulsing on him, arousal coating his length as he groaned at the feeling, precum mixing to your juices.

With a final hard thrust he fucked into your spent cunt one more time and stilled as he emptied himself inside of you, the feeling of his warm seed coating your insides making you clench on his cock one more time, moaning his name as you slowly regained conscience of who you were and what had just happened.

Taesan carefully pulled out, observing in awe as his cum seeped out of you, cursing at the arousing sight, biting his lip.

You sat up and reached for him, pulling his face to yours to share a passionate kiss.

He caressed your cheek and opened his mouth to talk at the same moment as you did.

“I love you.”

You both giggled, the same sentence coming out of your mouths at the same time, and you were sure Taesan was the right one all this time and you were glad he felt the same.

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (14.3/15) - Part III

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @a-moment-captured, @boujiestpoet, @avngrsfangirl, @cocobutterqwueen @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @saturnville @weetjy @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @niahxo @purplelewlew @f1-football-fiend @imjustheretomanifest @gg-trini @kinggbl @iamryanl @mitruscity @nichmeddar @xoscar03 @eugene-emt-roe @cherry2stems @louvrepool @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @lewisroscoelove

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

CHAPTER 14.3: Waiting Game

A month and a half later...

Since the end of summer break, the season had gone from promising to frustrating. The Mercedes was temperamental at best, leaving Lewis fighting for points rather than podiums. Azerbaijan and Singapore had been particularly shaky - a P9 and P6 that had him questioning if his decision to leave Mercedes was premature. But watching George struggle with the same issues confirmed what he already knew: it was time for a change.

At least things at home were peaceful. With Rorie entering her eighth month, they'd decided to base themselves in LA until after the baby came. Their daughter was active as ever, especially during Lewis's races, leading Rorie to joke that she was already a motorsport fan. Marian had practically moved in, bringing that particular brand of Black mother energy that meant Rorie was never allowed to lift a finger, while Aaliyah kept Lyric entertained with endless art projects and dance parties.

The sibling situation had evolved too. Athena was a constant presence in the paddock now, her F1 journalism career flourishing. Aaron had made genuine efforts to make amends, even flying to Singapore just to have dinner with him after the race. And Azariah... well, Azariah had proven to be exactly the kind of big brother Rorie deserved - protective, wise, and unfailingly kind.

Martin, on the other hand, had faded into the background. His attempts to control the narrative had backfired, leaving him on the periphery of his children's lives. It was his loss, really.

The upscale vegan restaurant in Austin was quiet as Lewis made his way to where Azariah and Aaron sat at a corner table. Both men stood to greet him, the handshakes and hugs feeling natural now.

"How's our sister?" Azariah asked as they settled in.

"Ready to not be pregnant anymore," Lewis chuckled. "Your niece is giving her a workout."

"Still not telling us the name?" Aaron raised an eyebrow, signaling for drinks.

"You know what? I'm gonna tell y'all something, but it stays between us," Lewis leaned forward. "We're announcing it soon anyway, with some maternity shots we took." Both brothers perked up. "Her name is Larke Atlas Hamilton."

"Meaning?" Azariah asked, intrigued.

"Larke means 'song bird' - for music, obviously. Atlas is for carrying the weight of the world, being strong. Plus I love mythology."

"Wait, you named her?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah, named both of them actually. Lyric and Larke."

"The L name legacy, huh?" Azariah grinned.

"Just something small, you know how it is," teased Lewis as he took a sip of his water.

"For real though, what if y'all had another one?" Azariah asked. "Just hypothetically. I'm curious now."

Lewis thought for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Lennon, after my favorite Beatle."

"Nigga, what?" Aaron laughed. "You really got it all picked out?"

Lewis shrugged. "I got names for at least ten kids."

"And all their names begin with an L?" Azariah asked, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, check this out - Lyric, Larke, Lennon, Lyanna, Locklyn, Ledger, Landen, Luca, Loyal, and Liberty."

They all burst out laughing.

"By the way, that investment opportunity we discussed for Mission 44? The numbers are looking good," Aaron shifted topics, and Lewis appreciated how his brother-in-law had grown into more than just Martin's angry son.

The conversation flowed easily between racing, business, the announcement of him being a co-chair for next year's MET Gala, and family. Lewis found himself studying these two men who'd become such an unexpected but welcome part of his life. He'd been ready to throw down with Aaron in Barcelona. Now here they were, sharing meals and making plans.

When a nearby diner's phone rang with Martin's signature ringtone, Lewis noticed how both brothers tensed slightly. Some wounds were still fresh, some patterns hard to break. He understood that better than most - the complicated dance of fathers and sons.

"You know," Azariah said thoughtfully, pushing around his quinoa bowl, "it's weird how life works out. A year ago, we didn't even know Rorie existed. Now I can't imagine our family without her."

"Speaking of family," Aaron added, his voice careful, "Mom's been asking about meeting her. For real this time."

Lewis studied both men carefully, thinking of Rorie at home, their daughter kicking away while Marian fussed over her. His protective instincts kicked in - they'd been through so much in the last year with Deja's betrayal, the court case, all of it.

"I'll talk to Rorie about it. But no pressure, yeah? She's got enough on her plate right now."

They nodded in understanding, and Lewis felt grateful for how far they'd all come. From that tense first meeting to now sharing their unborn daughter's name, planning investments together, building something real. Sometimes family wasn't what you were born into, but what you chose to build together.

And watching these brothers who'd chosen to build bridges rather than walls, Lewis knew they'd made the right choice in letting them in. Larke Atlas Hamilton would be born into a family that had learned the hard way what really mattered - and was stronger for it.

_______________________________________________

Qualifying had been a disaster.

P8. Fucking P8.

Lewis sat in his driver's room, still in his race suit, the urge to put his fist through something growing stronger by the minute. The car was a mess - unpredictable, temperamental, like trying to tame a wild animal that had no interest in cooperating.

He wanted to break something. Specifically, he wanted to break this fucking car that had been giving him hell all season. Five world championships together and this was how it would end? With a car that couldn't decide if it wanted to understeer or oversteer, that ate through tires like they were snacks, that…

His phone buzzed - a video call from Rorie. He took a deep breath, centering himself before answering.

But before he could say anything, Lyric's face filled the screen. "Dada fast!"

Despite his mood, Lewis felt a smile tug at his lips. "Not fast enough today, big man."

"You did great," Rorie's voice came through, the camera shifting to show her lounging on their LA couch, bump prominent under one of his hoodies. "That last sector was intense."

"The car's fucked," he said bluntly, then quickly added, "Sorry, Lyric, don't repeat that word."

"I know you're frustrated," Rorie said softly. "But tomorrow's another day. And your daughter's been doing somersaults all through qualifying, so at least someone enjoyed the show."

Lewis laughed despite himself. "Already my biggest critic, huh?"

"More like biggest fan. She goes crazy whenever Bono comes on the radio."

The rage that had been building started to dissipate. Yes, the car was a nightmare. Yes, P8 was nowhere near where he wanted to be. But watching his pregnant wife trying to make him feel better while their son made race car noises in the background… some things were more important than qualifying position.

Still, as he ended the call with promises to FaceTime later, Lewis couldn't help but glare at his reflection in the mirror. Nine races left in this chapter of his career, and right now, the ending wasn't looking like what he'd imagined.

His phone buzzed - this time a text from Toto: "My office when you're ready."

Lewis closed his eyes, leaning back against the cool wall. These conversations were getting harder. Years of championships, victories, making history together... and now they couldn't even get the fucking car to behave for one qualifying session.

Another buzz - Aaron this time: "That car looking rough bro. But tomorrow's another day. Athena's got some intel about Ferrari's tire strategy if you want it 👀"

Despite everything, Lewis smiled. Who would've thought Aaron would become one of his biggest supporters in the paddock?

His mind drifted to Rorie and Lyric back in LA. To Larke, doing her qualifying analysis via kicks. To the future beyond Mercedes, beyond this frustrating season. He'd announced his departure early, to be transparent with the team and fans. But damn if these last races weren't testing his patience.

"Fuck it," he said. Tomorrow was race day. He'd started from worse positions, fought harder battles. And at least he had something many drivers didn't - a family waiting for him, win or lose.

Still, as he headed toward Toto's office, Lewis couldn't shake the feeling that this car had one last surprise in store for him. He just hoped it would be a good one.

The Mexico City paddock buzzed with its usual energy, but Lewis felt disconnected from it all, like he was watching himself go through the motions. The Austin DNF still stung - another race, another technical issue, another reminder that this wasn't how he'd imagined his final season with Mercedes.

"How's the car feeling heading into the weekend?" Will Buxton asked, microphone extended.

Like a fucking nightmare, Lewis thought darkly. "It's going," he said instead, maintaining his media-trained smile. "We're always working to improve, always pushing forward."

Between interviews, he found himself gravitating toward the younger drivers. Franco Colapinto's enthusiasm was infectious, the Argentinian rookie's eyes lighting up as they discussed racing lines through Turn 1. Ollie Bearman reminded him of himself at that age - hungry, determined, full of dreams about what F1 could be.

"Any advice for managing the altitude here?" Ollie asked during a quiet moment.

Lewis actually smiled genuinely for the first time that day. These conversations felt real, unlike the endless questions about the car's performance that made him want to scream in frustration.

"Lewis, can you talk about the development direction for these final races?" another journalist called out.

I'd rather talk about how this car seems determined to break my spirit, he thought. "We're focused on maximizing our package," he said diplomatically. "Every race is an opportunity to learn."

His phone buzzed - a photo from Rorie of Lyric watching his Austin race replay.

"My boy," Lewis muttered under his breath, before turning back to the next interview.

"What are your expectations for this weekend?"

To get through it without this car finding another creative way to fail, his mind supplied. "We're taking it one session at a time," he answered smoothly. "Mexico always presents unique challenges."

The contrast between his internal monologue and his measured responses was giving him whiplash, but years of experience had taught him how to maintain the façade. As he watched Franco and Ollie's excitement about their first Mexican GP, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for when it all felt that new, that full of possibility.

His final Mexican GP with Mercedes. Another last in a season full of them. At least Aaliyah and Lyric would arrive tomorrow - having his son in the paddock always made everything better, even when the car was determined to test his last nerve.

"You're finally escaping these Mercedes media days soon," Ollie joked during a break between interviews, both of them hiding in a quiet corner of the building.

"Trust me, they don't get easier. No matter the team," Lewis chuckled, though his mind was already on his next commitment - a sit-down with Sky where they'd inevitably ask about Austin.

His phone lit up with a text from Rorie: "Liyah and Lyric’s flight is confirmed. Lyric's already asking if we'll make it in time to see 'Dada's silver car.' Also, your daughter is doing backflips. ❤️"

That brought a genuine smile to his face, one that didn't go unnoticed by the next journalist who approached.

The Sky interview was exactly what he expected. Ted tried to get technical about the DNF, while Naomi probed about his emotions heading into these final races.

"It must be bittersweet," she pressed.

"It's definitely emotional," he answered diplomatically. "Mercedes has been such a huge part of my journey."

Franco caught his eye from across the room, the rookie giving him a sympathetic look. These kids understood more than people realized - they'd grown up watching his battles, his victories, his dominance. Seeing him struggle with this year's car must be strange for them too.

Another text came through - a picture of their at-home ultrasound machine and sure enough, Larke was doing somersaults in Rorie’s stomach.

This time he couldn't suppress his laugh, earning curious looks from the media gathered around him.

"Care to share the joke?" someone asked.

"Just my baby’s recent sonogram," Lewis replied, feeling more like himself for a moment. "May have a little gymnast on my hands."

As the day wound down, he found himself back with the rookies, their energy somehow making this endless parade of interviews more bearable. They talked about their karting days, their dreams, everything except the current state of his Mercedes.

It was refreshing. Almost enough to make him forget about the mechanical time bomb waiting in the garage.

Almost.

_______________________________________________

Lewis spotted them first - Lyric running ahead of Aaliyah, his little Mercedes cap slightly crooked on his head.

"Dada!" Lyric launched himself forward, Lewis squatting down to catch him.

"Oof," Lewis exaggerated as he lifted his son. "Getting too big for this, big man. What's Mama been feeding you?"

"Pancakes!" Lyric announced proudly, making Aaliyah laugh.

"Of course she is," Lewis grinned, adjusting Lyric on his hip. "How was the flight?"

"Your son gave a full race analysis to everyone in first class," Aaliyah shook her head. "Complete with sound effects for when 'Dada's car went night-night.'"

"Car sleeping," Lyric nodded seriously. "Like Roscoe!"

"Exactly like Roscoe," Lewis chuckled. "Ready to see the garage?"

"Franco!" Lyric suddenly called out, spotting the Argentinian driver approaching.

Lewis watched with amusement as Franco jogged over, but the moment the young driver caught sight of Aaliyah, his whole demeanor shifted. The confident swagger that emerged was something Lewis hadn't seen from his usually focused rookie colleague.

"You must be Rorie's sister," Franco smoothly transitioned from high-fiving Lyric to extending his hand to Aaliyah. "I've seen you in some of Lewis's Instagram stories. I'm Franco."

Lewis's eyebrows shot up, still holding Lyric who was babbling about wanting to see the "silver car." The confidence in Franco's tone was unexpected - this was the same kid who'd been nervously asking him about racing lines just hours ago.

"Aaliyah," she replied, her hand lingering in his just a moment longer than necessary. "Nice to meet you."

"You know," Franco leaned slightly closer, his accent somehow thicker than usual, "I could give you a tour of the paddock later. Show you where all the real action happens."

"Is that right?" Aaliyah's lips curved into a slight smile.

"Among other things," Franco winked, managing to make it charming rather than cheesy. "Maybe we could grab dinner after? I know this amazing place in the city..."

"Franco come see car?" Lyric interrupted, completely oblivious to the flirting happening in front of him.

"Of course, pequeño," Franco said, but his eyes stayed on Aaliyah. "Maybe your beautiful aunt would like to join us?"

Lewis bit back a laugh. The boldness of it all - hitting on his sister-in-law right in front of him. The kid was twenty-one and Aaliyah was twenty-four, and yet here he was, shooting his shot with the smoothness of a veteran.

After Franco reluctantly headed off for his media commitments, Lewis couldn't resist. "Just got here and got the whole paddock in a tizzy."

Aaliyah scoffed, adjusting her bag. "Don't start, Lew. He isn't really my type anyways."

But Lewis caught her glancing back in the direction Franco had disappeared, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Mhmm," Lewis smirked. "Lies."

"Whatever," Aaliyah rolled her eyes, but her slight smile told a different story. "I can't wait to tell Rorie about these thirsty F1 drivers you work with."

"Pssh," he blew out a raspberry and rolled his eyes at her. Aaliyah was undoubtedly going to call Rorie later and have a venting session about what just happened, but from the way Aaliyah was looking at Franco – she was just as interested in him as he was in her.

_____________________________________________________

The garage screens showed Franco's Williams dancing through the final sector. Lewis paused, balaclava in hand, to watch the young driver push through Turn 15.

P10 - not bad for a rookie in a Williams.

He waited near the Williams garage, watching Franco emerge from his car with that unmistakable rookie enthusiasm. The moment Franco spotted him, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

"You were watching my qualifying?" Franco's accent was thick with excitement. "That's so cool, man."

"Not bad out there," Lewis nodded, then decided to seize the moment. "Listen, about Aaliyah..."

Franco immediately stood straighter, all attention.

"She's a free spirit," Lewis started, placing a hand on Franco's shoulder. "Vegetarian, loves Legos more than people most days. Takes her coffee black but her tea with honey. Can't stand pretense or games."

"You're giving me intel?" Franco's grin was infectious.

"I like you, Franco. I do." Lewis's tone shifted slightly. "But let me make this clear: Aaliyah is my sister, and if you break her fucking heart..."

"It's my neck?" Franco finished, still grinning but with understanding in his eyes.

Lewis chuckled. "You catch on quick."

"I sometimes do," Franco chuckled.

"I usually wouldn't help a driver get with her," Lewis continued. "Lando was bothering me about it before, but I think you're alright, Franco."

Franco's face scrunched up in disgust. "Lando? He wouldn't know what to do with a woman like Aaliyah."

Well, damn…

Lewis raised his eyebrows, impressed and amused by the kid's confidence. Before he could respond, the sound of children's laughter filled the air as Lyric and Laura came tearing around the corner, Aaliyah in pursuit.

"No running in the paddock!" she called out, but she was laughing too as the kids circled Lewis and Franco before darting off again.

"She's so good with kids," Franco said in awe, watching her chase after them.

"Yeah, she's a great aunt," Lewis replied, studying Franco's expression. The kid was already smitten. This would either be highly entertaining or complete chaos.

Probably both.

______________________________________________

Aaliyah Phillips turned heads without trying. At 5'7" with a slim waist, wide hips, and the kind of curves that made men walk into walls, she was used to the attention. Her straight black hair fell to the middle of her back today, though she often let it free in its natural curls. While she didn't have her sister's designer wardrobe or brother-in-law's fashion empire connections, her simple high-waisted jeans and cropped white button-down showed she understood how to dress her figure.

But what people didn't see was the woman who spent weekends building intricate Lego Architecture sets, who had an entire room in her Jersey apartment dedicated to magnetic tiles and architectural models. The entry-level architect who stayed late at her firm sketching designs for her dream home - a modern Pueblo Revival style house she hoped to build someday in Arizona or New Mexico, all clean lines and adobe walls with a courtyard full of succulents and desert wildflowers.

"Aaliyah! You look so good girl," Lando's voice interrupted her thoughts as she made her way through the paddock. His attempt at smooth came off try-hard, as usual.

"Thanks, Lando," she replied politely, though her mind drifted to a different accent, one that actually made her stomach flutter.

"We should grab dinner sometime," he pressed on. "Or we could–"

"Still not interested," she cut in gently but firmly. Lando was alright, but his cockiness felt forced, unlike Franco's natural confidence that seemed to flow as easily as his Spanish.

Franco. She hadn't meant to let any F1 driver catch her attention – she'd seen enough through Lewis and Rorie to know how complicated that world could be. But there was something about the young Argentinian that made her want to break her own rules. Maybe it was the way his curls fell into his eyes when he talked, or how he'd managed to be smooth without being arrogant, or the genuine enthusiasm he showed when talking about his passions.

The Mexico City paddock buzzed with pre-race energy as she found her way to the Mercedes garage. At twenty-four, she was established enough to know what she wanted - and what she didn't want. Lando's manufactured swagger wasn't it. But Franco...

"Earth to Liyah," Lewis's voice broke through her reverie. "You good? Or still thinking about a certain P10 qualifier?"

She rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law, but couldn't help glancing toward the Williams garage where Franco was preparing for his first Mexican GP.

Maybe it was time to take a chance. After all, she was single, and that accent was something else.

Aaliyah settled into a chair, Lyric bouncing on her lap as they watched Lewis prepare for the race. Her architecture brain couldn't help but appreciate the engineering marvel of these cars, even if most of the technical talk went over her head.

"Aunt Liyah, look!" Lyric pointed excitedly as Franco's Williams rolled past their window. She tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach when the Argentinian driver glanced up, his smile visible even through his visor.

"Still not your type?" Lewis teased as he stopped by before heading to the grid.

"Don't you have a race to focus on?" she shot back, but her smile gave her away.

The race itself was chaos that somehow made sense to everyone except her. Lyric seemed to understand more than she did, cheering at appropriate moments while she mostly just followed Lewis's silver car and, occasionally, a certain blue Williams.

"Remember what Mama says," Lyric told her seriously during a pit stop. "Always bet on black."

Aaliyah burst out laughing. That was such a Rorie thing to say - her sister had probably been teaching Lyric that since birth. But watching Lewis fight his way to P4, she had to admit the saying held true.

Franco's P12 wasn't bad either, though she pretended not to notice how many times she'd checked his position throughout the race. The way he handled the car through those tight corners was actually impressive, not that she'd admit that to anyone.

After the race, she found herself lingering in the paddock, ostensibly helping Lyric collect signatures on his little racing suit. When Franco approached, still in his race gear with curls damp from the helmet, she blamed the Mexican heat for the sudden warmth in her cheeks.

"Get any good signatures?" he asked Lyric, but his eyes were on her.

Maybe her sister was right - sometimes you had to bet on what felt right, even if it wasn't part of your careful plans. And this curly-headed rookie with the smooth accent and genuine smile definitely hadn't been part of her plans.

"There you go, campeón," Franco handed the marker back to Lyric after signing his suit.

"Actually," Aaliyah said, surprising herself with her boldness as she took the Sharpie from him. "Give me your hand."

Franco's eyebrows rose but he extended his palm, a slow smile spreading across his face as she wrote her WhatsApp number in neat architect's handwriting.

"About that dinner you mentioned..." she started.

"I know the perfect place," he finished, studying the numbers on his hand like they were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "You coming to Brazil?"

"I can go," she replied casually, though she'd already arranged two weeks of PTO from the firm to help her sister and Lewis out with Lyric, but aunties need some down time too.

"Lucky me," Franco grinned, that accent somehow getting thicker. "I'll text you later about dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, pretending not to notice Lewis and Lyric making exaggerated kissing faces behind Franco's back.

As Franco walked away, clearly trying not to look too eager to program her number into his phone, Lewis sidled up beside her.

"Smooth moves, sis," he teased. "Very smooth."

"Shut up," she laughed, but she couldn't help watching Franco's retreating figure. "Why are you always in my business?"

"Because I can be, and this is very entertaining."

The Las Vegas strip had been transformed into an F1 circus, neon lights competing with camera flashes as Lewis navigated through what felt like half of the world's population crammed into the paddock. His custom bedazzled Tommy Hilfiger tracksuit caught the artificial light, the matching Timbs completing a look that screamed Vegas baby - even if his mind was firmly fixed on Los Angeles.

Nothing.

He checked his phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing from Rorie. The helicopter was on standby, ready to whisk him to LA the moment she texted that their daughter was ready to make her debut. Toto had already arranged everything - Mick was ready to step in, though there were whispers that Kimi might even drive. Because fuck a race when his baby girl was being born.

"Lewis," Bono called out, trying to get his attention during the pre-race briefing. "The tire strategy…"

"Sorry," Lewis muttered, eyes still glued to his phone. "Just…"

Bono's expression softened. "How about this - you focus on the race, and I'll keep you updated if Rorie calls or texts. Deal?"

"Yeah, okay," Lewis agreed, though his hand still twitched toward his pocket. "Thanks, man."

The paddock was a maze of VIP areas and pop-up clubs - because only Vegas would turn an F1 race into a full-blown festival. Under normal circumstances, Lewis would have been living for this energy, this spectacle. But right now, all he could think about was Rorie at home, their daughter seemingly content to keep everyone waiting.

"Any news?" Toto asked as he made his way to the garage.

"Nothing," Lewis shook his head. "Larke's taking after her mama - showing up whenever she damn well pleases."

After another meeting, he made his way to his driver's room to get ready for the race.

Lewis pulled his race suit on, phone pressed to his ear. "Anything? Any contractions?"

"Nope," Rorie sighed. "I'm bouncing on this ball, drinking this nasty labor-inducing juice from TikTok… nothing. Though these celebrities showing up to Vegas are wild-"

"I don't care about that, Rorie, honey. I'll say fuck this race if you're going into labor." The sound of her laughter made him pull the phone away from his ear, staring at it in disbelief. "Rorie, I'm serious," he said once her giggles subsided.

"What if you're driving?" she asked.

"Bono is on baby watch and he'll tell me over the radio. I'll stop like I'm doing a pit and just leave."

"What- Lewis, you can't leave in the middle of a race!"

"Like I said, I don't give a fuck. Besides, this car is ass and I'm not missing her birth like I did Lyric's."

"Lewis…"

His jaw tightened. He hated that being an F1 driver meant missing important moments. Missing Lyric's birth because of a race still haunted him. Yes, he'd made it to the hospital while Rorie was still there, but he should have been the one holding her hand, telling her to push, feeding her ice cubes, even being the target of her labor-induced rage.

"Sweetheart, I know how you feel but trust me when I say this, I think she's waiting until you're officially done."

"Rorie, your due date is tomorrow. You could go into labor any time today," he pointed out.

"She's stubborn. More than you, actually. Trust me. When you are done with your last race and it's the end of the season - Larke will be here."

"You sure you're okay?" Lewis asked for the third time.

"Yes, baby. Go race. Win something for our girl."

"I just… I need you to promise me you'll tell someone to call if anything happens. Even if it's just a twinge."

"Lewis Hamilton," Rorie's voice took on that tone he knew well. "I have your mother, my mother, my sister, and about fifteen other people here watching me like hawks. Trust me, if this baby so much as hiccups, you'll know."

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "I love you. Both of you."

"We love you too. Now go show Vegas what you've got."

After hanging up, a knock came at his door. "Lewis? It's time," Rosa called.

The walk to the garage felt surreal, Las Vegas lights reflecting off his visor as he settled into the car and then lined up in his spot on the grid.

Lights out, and away we go.

The start was clean, Lewis immediately picking off two cars into Turn 1. "How's the grip, Lewis?" Bono asked.

"Anything from Rorie?" Lewis countered.

"No mate, nothing yet."

Lewis groaned, both from the lack of news and the understeer he was fighting. "Car's pushing wide in Turn 6… Should we add a crib mobile? I feel like we forgot a crib mobile."

Despite his distracted mind, he was flying through the field. Another overtake into Turn 1. "Nice move, Lewis!"

"Thanks. Do you think we need a humidifier? The nursery might need a humidifier." Another pass, up to P5 now. "And maybe one of those sound machines? Lyric loved his sound machine."

Bono's chuckle came through the radio. "You're doing brilliant, mate. Just brilliant."

P4.

P3.

Lewis barely registered the positions, too busy mental shopping for the nursery. "The changing table - did we get enough supplies for the changing table?"

"Box this lap, Lewis," Bono managed through his laughter. "Whatever you want, mate. You're absolutely flying out there."

As Lewis hit his marks in the pit box, he was already planning his next Amazon order. Somehow, racing while planning for Larke was bringing out his best driving.

10 more laps.

5 more laps.

Then the final lap.

The fireworks exploded over the Vegas strip as Lewis brought the car home in P2, George just ahead in P1. The garage was erupting - their first 1-2 of the season, and in Vegas of all places.

"Anything from Rorie?" Lewis immediately asked over the radio.

"Nothing mate, but bloody brilliant drive!" Bono's voice was gleaming with pride.

Lewis placed his forehead against the steering wheel, then gently banged it a few times. "Yeah, yeah… thanks man."

The crowd was deafening in parc fermé, casino lights mixing with camera flashes as he climbed out of the car. George was already there, grinning ear to ear.

Maybe Rorie was right. Maybe Larke was really waiting for his final race with Mercedes. Their stubborn little girl, already showing that Hamilton determination before even making her debut.

"Lewis! What a drive!" George pulled him into a hug. "The old Mercedes magic is back!"

"Yeah," Lewis managed a genuine smile, pride in their team's achievement breaking through his baby-focused thoughts. "Hell of a way to light up Vegas."

But even as he went through the motions of celebration, his thoughts kept drifting to Rorie and their baby. Their daughter was definitely taking after her mother - making her own plans, everyone else's schedule be damned.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Next is the final chapter then there's the epilogue.

Do you like my work? Buy me a coffee to support

[starlost-maniac]

My Significant Bother - Ch 2

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Minho.." You look at your boyfriend, shocked.

"The delivery guy was being a creep, hyung. He was coming into the house and she called for me. Since you were in the shower, I pretended to be her boyfriend and the creep wanted proof." Jisung wipes his mouth again.

"It's not a problem, Ji. Thank you for protecting kitten for me." He smiles at you both, stepping closer to you.

"You aren't mad?" You look at him as he stops in front of you.

"Why would I be mad? Jisung was keeping you safe when I was unavailable." He leans down and kisses your head softly. "Let me go and get dressed, and we can eat dinner. Ji, can you bring the food to the living room and find a movie or something?" He asks, looking at his friend. The boy nods, making sure the door is locked before grabbing the pizza boxes and heading to the living room. Minho pats your ass softly before turning around to go back to his room to dress. You stare after him before going into the living room, sitting on the couch opposite of where Jisung planted himself.

"Thank you, Jisung." You say quietly. You were thankful he helped, but now you were a bit confused. His kiss didn't feel like he was doing it just to help you.

"Don't mention it." He says, flipping through movies on Netflix. You stare at the TV until Minho comes back out and sits between you two. Once a movie is decided, you all eat and watch the TV, cleaning up afterwards. Jisung goes off to take a shower while you do the little bit of dishes that were piled next to the sink. Minho comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your back.

"You feeling ok, kitten? You've been quiet." He kisses the back of your head.

"Yeah, just never had anyone be that much of a creep before. Made my skin crawl and I was scared. I couldn't call for you and I didn't think Jisung would help me." You sigh as you wring out the sponge, turning off the water afterwards.

"Just because you two fight, doesn't mean he won't help, kitten. He's still a decent human being." He kisses your temple. You nod, smiling when your boyfriend starts peppering your cheek with kisses. You laugh and squirm in his hold. He moves his arms and picks you up. "Let's get this kitten to bed. I'm sure she's tired." He carries you off to bed, playfully tossing you onto his mattress. You laugh out and turn onto your back, smiling up at him. He smiles and slips his shirt off and climbs into bed with you. He hovers over you a bit, looking into your eyes before he leans down and kisses you ever so softly.

You move one hand to his cheek as you close your eyes, the other lays on his chest, his skin warm against yours. He moves his free hand down to the bottom of the shirt you stole from him, slipping his hand under it to place his hand on your stomach. He kisses you deeper, gently nipping at your lower lip. Just as he slips his tongue in your mouth, Jisung knocks on the door. Minho let's a 'hmm?' escape his throat and the younger boy pops his head in a bit.

"Is it cool if I sleep in here? My room is cold and I can't find the extra blankets."

"Mhmm." Minho continues to slide his hand up your stomach a bit, the shirt not lifting far enough to show your skin off. You lightly tap his chest when he gives Jisung the ok, but Minho just chuckles. Jisung walks in and over to the bed, somehow oblivious to what's going on. He lays down next to Minho and stares at the ceiling. Your boyfriend grins into the kiss before pulling away, moving his head down to playfully bite at your nipple through his shirt. You gasp and moan softly, giving him a light tap again.

"Hyung..?" Jisung says after a moment of silence.

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Mm..just teasing kitten a bit. Nothing bad." He laughs out.

"Uh-huh." He's quiet for another moment. "Should..should I leave?" He starts to sit up. Minho chuckles and lays down.

"No. I'm done." He laughs and pulls the blanket up, covering you up, Jisung lays back down and pulls the blanket up as well. Jisung turns onto his side, facing away from you and Minho, not wanting his friend to feel that his dick was hard from your moan.

——

It's been nearly a month since Jisung started working at the same company as you. He was surprisingly very good at the job, and even more surprising, he was easy to work with. Your coworkers loved working with him as well. You were typing away on your computer, answering emails when Jisung came next to your desk.

"So, how do they do birthdays here? Cause I caught wind that both Felix's and Seungmin's birthdays were on the weekend."

"Usually we get a cake for the floor, obviously one big enough to accommodate around 30 people." You sit back in your chair. "Felix and Seungmin didn't want anything extravagant this year, so per their request, we didn't celebrate. Still wished them a happy birthday though. Chan may or may not celebrate his with us as his is coming up."

"Hmm." Jisung nods. "Speaking of birthdays, did Minho say anything about celebrating his birthday this year?"

"Not really. We might just go out for dinner and a movie. It's what he likes to do." You run your fingers through your hair, the scent of your shampoo wafts up to Jisung's nose. He inhales it deeply but quietly. "We may go to the animal shelter to see the cats. He loves to see them." You smile softly, thinking about how cuddly he gets when he plays with the cats and kittens.

Jisung nods. "Sounds like fun." He stands there for a moment longer, enjoying the scent of your shampoo.

"Is there…anything else I can do for you, Jisung?" You look up at him. He stares down at you, doe eyed. He shakes his head and goes back to his desk. The rest of the work day goes by with nothing exciting happening. Minho picks you and Jisung up and brings you home. You do your regular routine of taking your makeup off and changing into comfortable clothes, this time opting for a longer style crop top and sleep shorts. You go and sit on the living room couch, legs tucked underneath you. You scroll on your phone quietly as Jisung sits on the recliner off to the side.

"Do you two want anything specific for dinner tonight, or should we just order something? I'm kinda in the mood for Chinese." Minho calls down the hall from the bathroom.

"Chinese sounds good, baby." You call back, Jisung seconds it.

"Ooh, sounds like you two are finally starting to agree on things." Minho teases.

"It's food, hyung. Chinese is also always a good option." Jisung reclines the chair, scrolling on his own phone. He occasionally sneaks a glance at you. Minho comes out and sits next to you, quickly ordering the food, knowing exactly what you and Jisung like. He tosses his phone on the couch and pulls you into his lap. You giggle and peck his lips.

"Hi baby." You kiss the tip of his nose.

"Hi kitten." He smiles up at you. "How was work today?"

"Same as usual. The guys get along with Jisung. He's surprisingly good at the job." Jisung complains from his seat. Minho laughs, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing your bare skin with his thumbs.

"Are you two getting along more though?" Minho looks between you two.

"Gotta be for the job. Especially since I'm the team leader." You raise your arms above you and stretch. Your shirt lifting just enough for Minho to see the underside of your breasts. Jisung watches you, just barely able to see the view Minho has. He leans over in his seat, resting his head in his hand, making it seem like he was getting comfortable.

Your boyfriend grins and brings his hands up to gently cup the underside of your chest. You laugh a bit and lower your arms, your shirt now bunched up some on his wrists. He gently squeezes the mounds.

"Can I help you, baby?" You ask, smiling at him.

"Mm, no. I think I'm good." He grins more, gently squeezing again before slipping his thumbs up to your nipples. He gives them a quick swipe, making the sensitive nubs harden. You give him a look that says 'really?' and shake your head. Jisung watches from his seat. He positioned himself where it looks like he's looking at his phone, but he can still see what Minho is doing.

"Jisung is still right there, baby." You place your hands on Minho's arms.

"He's too busy with his phone." His eyes flick to his friend. "Ji?"

"Hmm?" He focuses on his phone.

"See, kitten. He's not paying attention." Minho leans forward and kisses your breasts through your shirt. "Plus, it's not like you don't like being watched." He chuckles. Jisung feels his dick twitch in his shorts, gaze flicking back up to you and Minho. The older one sits back, catching that Jisung is watching. He grins and chuckles, playfully pulling your shirt up a bit more, uncovering up to just under your nipples.

"That's true, but I'd rather he not be the one watching." You state. Minho leans forward again, softly nipping at your skin. He chuckles when you let out a quiet moan. He lifts your shirt and tucks his head inside, kissing your breasts softly, effectively distracting you. You move your hands up to his shoulders, eyes closing. Jisung carefully adjusts himself in his shorts as he watches over his phone. Minho kisses and licks around your nipple, teasing you. You moan softly, head tilting back some.

Minho chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Minho flattens his tongue against your breast and licks slowly across your nipple. You gasp softly and moan again as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He slowly licks and sucks on your bud, enjoying the sounds you make.

Jisung lowers his phone, watching more obviously, thankful that you can't see him. He jumps when he hears a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." He mumbles, standing up. Minho grunts and switches to your other nipple, licking and sucking on your skin. Your head falls back more as you grip his head under your shirt. Jisung goes to the door, trying to get his hard on to go away. He opens it, and it's the delivery driver. He pays for the food and gives a tip, taking the bags before shutting the door. He locks it and walks back out to the living room, setting the bags down on the coffee table.

"Food is here, hyung." He settles back in his chair. Minho let out a 'mm' as he was still in your shirt, ravaging your breasts. Jisung watches as he pulls the food out of the bags and sets them on the table. He scrunches his brows together when you moan out as Minho's nips your nipples. Minho lifts your shirt, uncovering your breasts before pulling his head away and recovering your chest. Jisung was able to get a nice view of your breasts because of that.

Jisung clears his throat and looks away as Minho carefully moves you off his lap, his shorts sporting a tent. He grabs your food and hands it to you, looking at Jisung, he grins and winks—knowing how it was affecting his best friend—before he grabs his own and sits back.

"So hyung, your birthday is in a few weeks." Jisung says, turning the TV on.

"Mhmm." Minho pops a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"There anything you want this year?"

"Mmm.." Minho thinks, swallowing his food. He grins mischievously. "There's is something I want. But only if kitten is ok with it." Jisung looks at Minho and raises an eyebrow.

"Anything for you, baby." You smile and eat your food.

"What is that, hyung?" Jisung slowly eats his food, trying to keep his eyes on the tv.

"Remember what I said back on your birthday?" Jisung furrows his eyebrows, gaze shifting to Minho. "I want to see you and kitten go at it. I honestly think that you and her need a good fuck together to get all that pent up anger out of you. Plus.." he looks at you, your chopsticks sitting in your mouth as you stare at him, eyes wide and brows raised. "I'd still love to see my baby girl get railed by my best friend." His dick twitches in his pants at the thought. Jisung coughs at the request and looks at you. You were still staring at Minho, a confused look now on your face.

"Hyung, I still don't think that'll help any." Jisung says as soon as he stops coughing. You look over at Jisung. The images of him kissing you weeks ago come back to you. That night genuinely confused you. Jisung didn't kiss you like he hated you. He seemed to enjoy it. As the memories come back to you, the tips of your ears start turning red, and you're thankful that you left your hair down.

"Just think about it. I won't force you guys to do it, obviously, but just think on it for me." He smiles and continues eating his food. Jisung's eyes flick to you then down to his food. You look back at Minho, questioning him. Minho smiles gently at you, leaning down to softly peck your lips. "Only if you're comfortable with it, kitten." He whispers, pecking your lips again. He smiles and steals a piece of your food before offering you a piece of his.

You all end the night after cleaning up, Jisung going to his own room for the night, finally taking care of his aching cock. You and Minho go to his room for a long love-making session before bed.

——

"Y/nnie?" Felix waves his hand in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts. You hadn't realized you zoned out and it was already time for lunch.

"Hi, Felix. Yes?" You look up at the blonde.

"Changbin-hyung, Hyunjin and I were going to head out for lunch. Jising said he was eating here today, and we wanted to ask you if you were coming today." He smiles at you, his smile full of warmth.

"Oh, thank you Lixie, but I brought food today. I can come out tomorrow though?" You return the smile.

"Not a problem. You enjoy your lunch, ok?" He stands up straight and leaves the office, grabbing his jacket. You stand up and stretch, going to your office fridge to grab your food. Chan had mini kitchen areas put in each office to minimize food theft, which was a great idea in your opinion. Thankfully each office had space for it too.

You put your food in the microwave to warm it and take it to the couch in the office, usually used for customers to wait at. Just as you sat down, Jisung walks into the office, it seems he went to the building's cafeteria. He looks at you and nods a little, walking over to where you sat.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He points to the chair opposite from you, the coffee table between you. You shrug, not like you really can stop him from sitting there. He sits down and opens his container of food. You both eat silently for a few minutes. "So, hyungs birthday is in a week." He chances a glance at you.

"Mhmm." You nod, not looking at him as you eat.

"I…I think we should do what he requested..for his birthday." He says softly. You stop mid bite and look at him. You chew your food and swallow.

"Really? Why? You hate my guts, I hate yours." You wipe your mouth with a napkin.

"I just want hyung happy. Don't you?" His eyebrows scrunch a little. His statement makes you go quiet for a bit.

"No, I do. But I don't know. Fucking you isn't something I've thought of doing." It was a lie. Since the kiss that one night, you've thought about it a few times, but you couldn't let him know that.

"I mean, same." Also a lie. "But if it makes him happy, I'm willing to do it. He's my best friend after all." You sigh and nod.

"Yeah. I want him happy too. So, yeah. Let's do it." You watch him. Jising was honestly really excited about it, but he tried not to show it. He gets up and moves over to the couch next to you.

"We should..we should practice a bit. Get more comfortable with each other since we have a week till the big day." He gingerly puts a hand on your knee.

"Nothing too far since we are at work." You look at him, being stern. He nods and moves closer to you, your legs touching. He reaches up and cups your cheek, looking you in the eyes, his gaze flicking to your lips and back. He slowly leans closer to you, his gaze back on your lips. You feel your neck and ears getting warm with a blush, his breath against your lips before he softly slots his lips with yours.

You move a hand up to his chest, his hands sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. He deepens the kiss a bit, licking your lips softly. You hesitantly open your mouth and he immediately slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherries again, and you're thinking it's the chapstick he uses. He slowly makes out with you, taking his time with his tongue in your mouth. He groans a little bit before he softly bites your lower lip.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes when you open them. You were both breathing a little hard and he pulls away completely, his cheeks a little red. You nod and turn back towards the table in front of you. You feel your cheeks burning with a blush creeping up your neck.

"We should..uh..finish our lunch before the rest of the team gets back, yeah?" Jisung says, grabbing his food. You just nod again and eat your food silently. You feel Jisung staring at you the rest of the work day. When Minho picks you two up, he tells you that he's going to drop you and Jisung off at the house, and that he has to run out for a few things, but he will be back in a few hours. You tell him to be careful and that you'll see him when he gets home. You exchange a kiss and a smile and you get out of the car, following Jisung inside the house.

You've never been at the house alone with Jisung before. Minho was always there. You go to the bathroom and remove your makeup before going to Minho's room to change. You put on a pair of your sleep shorts and one of Minho's oversized shirts again. You pad out to the kitchen to find something for dinner. Pulling out leftovers, you warm them up in the microwave. You don't hear Jisung walk in, as you were zoning out again. He stares at you for a moment before stepping up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck, effectively startling you.

"What the fuck, Jisung?" You turn your head and bit to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Didn't mean to scare you, sorry." He mumbles against your neck. "Trying to get more comfortable again since we don't have to worry about our coworkers walking in." He kisses up your neck to under your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Just…give a warning next time, fuck." You close your eyes as he gently nips your skin. "No..no marks…not unless Minho says it's ok." You gasp out softly. Jisung just hums a confirmation.

"Can I..touch you?" He asks after a moment, gently squeezing your waist with his arms, fingers digging into your sides softly. You hesitate for a moment before nodding, letting out a whispered 'yes'. "I won't take anything off, I won't even look until Minho's birthday." He kisses across your neck again, sliding a hand to your breast. He gently squeezes your clothed breast, feeling your nipple start to harden through the fabric. He whispers 'so soft' against your neck, making you shiver again.

You bring a hand up to his head, gently gripping his hair as you lean back against his chest, he presses himself against you. Your cheeks flush when you feel his cock against your ass. He moves his head to the other side of your neck and starts leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along your warm skin. You let out soft, quiet moans, feeling his hands slide down your body to under the shirt you wear. His hands feel cool against your skin as he trails his hands up to your breasts. You physically shiver against him and he chuckles. Jisung gently cups your breasts, his breath shudders against you at the same time you gasp.

He quietly groans against your neck. He is resisting the urge to bite and mark you, as much as he wants to, he wants to respect your decision. Just as he starts to massage your breasts, the microwave beeps, indicating your food is done. It pulls you both back to where you are. Jisung pulls away, pulling his hands off you and stepping back. You shiver at the loss of his warmth.

"You should uh..you should eat. I'm going to um..I'm gonna go shower." Jisung mumbles out behind you before he turns and quickly leaves the kitchen. You stand in the same spot, cheeks and neck flushed. You blink a few times before stepping towards the microwave to grab your food. You sit at the kitchen island and eat. You clean up and sit in the living room, watching tv until Minho gets back. He greets you with a smile and you smile back. He holds up a bag from a store that sells expensive alcohol.

"Decided to get some for my birthday." He laughs out and goes to put everything away. You get up and follow him, helping to put things in their place. Jisung had finished his shower and went back to his room to get dressed. Once everything is put away, Minho turns to face you, a smile across his face. He picks you up and gently sits you on the counter, now having to look up at you.

"How was work today, kitten? Jisung didn't cause any trouble for you?" He steps between your legs, placing his hands on your hips. You shake your head, just as Jisung steps into the kitchen.

"When do I ever cause trouble, hyung?" He runs his fingers through his slightly damp hair, opening the fridge. He was shirtless again, just wearing a pair of gray sweatpants low on his hips.

"All the time." You retort. "But no, he's been…pretty good at work." You play with your boyfriend's hair.

"What about while I was gone?" He looks towards his friend, whose head was still in the fridge.

"He was…ok. Didn't cause too much trouble." Your boyfriend laughs at that, turning back to you. He leans forward and softly starts kissing your throat. Jisung grabs some food out of the fridge, shutting the door before going to the microwave. Jisung looks at you then at Minho before looking at the microwave.

"Hyung?" He puts his food in to warm.

"Mhmm?" Minho kisses around your neck, kissing your jaw.

"Y/n and I..we thought about what you said. About what you wanted for your birthday." He watches his food spin in the machine.

"Mhmm." Minho gently bites the crook of your neck, making you moan softly, leaving a small hickey there. You don't catch it, but Jisung's cock twitches in his pants.

"We both decided that..we will do it for you. We both want you happy, and if this makes you happy, then we will." Jisung turns around a bit, so his growing bulge won't be visible.

"I want you guys to do this too, because you want to." Minho bites your skin again. "Don't do it solely for my sake." He starts to slide his hands up your borrowed shirt, making you shiver. Jisung just hums out an 'ok'.

"I'm going to go eat in my room. I'll see you both in the morning." Jisung grabs his food from the microwave and goes back to his room, not shutting the door all the way. Minho slips the shirt off you, looking you over, just marveling at you. You smile at him, watching his eyes trail across you. He starts to tug at your shorts, pulling them and your panties off when you lift your hips.

"Gonna fuck you right here, kitten. Missed your pussy all day." He pulls you towards the edge of the counter. He undoes his pants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans when the cool air hits his shaft. He slides one hand between your legs, slipping two fingers into your cunt, smirking at how wet you are. You close your eyes and moan out. He slowly starts to finger you, pumping his cock with his other hand. He pulls his fingers out and puts his tip at your entrance.

"You ready for me, kitten?" He slips his tip into you.

"Y-yes, baby." You wrap your legs around his hips as he slides into you slowly.

"So nice and warm for me.." he mumbles as he slides his length into you. He kisses you deeply once he bottoms out. "My good little kitten." He whispers against your lips. You shiver and moan his name softly. He chuckles. Holding your hips, he slowly starts to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning his name out again. He leans down and sucks on your neck again. Picking up the pace of his hips, he grinds into you, his cock rubbing against your clit at the angle he grinds in at.

You gasp and arch your back, the knot in your belly tightens quickly. You moan out as you clench around Minho. He grins and chuckles against your neck. He sucks on your neck, fucking into you hard and deep.

"My good little kitten. Such a good girl." He leaves a large hickey on your collarbone. You arch your back and moan his name loud as you cum, clenching hard around Minho's cock. He groans against your neck as he thrusts deep once more before cumming in you. He thrusts into you a few more times as he empties inside you. You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe hard. Minho gently rubs your sides, hips and thighs, your legs still wrapped around him as he was still buried deep inside you.

"How about a shower, kitten? Get you all nice and clean." Minho peppers your shoulder with soft feather-like kisses. You nod and let out a soft 'mhmm'. He smiles and gently picks you up off the counter as you tighten your grip on him. He grabs your laundry off the counter and walks out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. Just as Minho passes Jisung's door, the younger one opens it to bring his dishes out. Minho winks at him, holding you close to his chest.

Jisung's cheeks flush a bit when he notices you're naked. Your boyfriend enters the bathroom with you and sits you on the sink, your eyes closed as you were tired. He starts the shower and Jisung watches for a moment, looking both you and Minho over before he goes to the kitchen. Once the shower is ready, Minho undresses and picks you up again, stepping in with you. Jisung goes back to his room, another tent in his pants. Once Minho cleans you up, he washes himself up before getting you both ready for bed. You cuddle up to him and fall asleep quickly.

Tag list

@tenshimara

[wings-of-ink]

What time is it? Yes, another NSFW ask! 😋

First of all, 'Steel Chair Anon,' I'm dead 😭. I guess that's gonna be my nickname from now on.

Second, happy to serve your horny minds, guys (actually me too 😭 so 'our horny minds' then) and yes, thanks to Lunan for making sure we were being fed. FYI, I devoured it and left no crumbs 🤠.

Enough babbling, more questioning.

As always, I don't know if this has been asked before or not, but how would each ROs react being woken up from sleep by MC in a very NSFW way? Like maybe using some good ol' oral sex or just straight up putting their—(beep-beep)? 😀 *innocent smile*

LOL I'd say it's a nickname well-earned! 🪑

I am happy to have fed you, Nony!

Now...for your answers...I may have put another little teaser here, lol.

Oswin:

He mumbles in his sleep as you fiddle with his linen pants. Wrestling it from the waistband may be difficult if you aren't quick. You smile as you marvel at his sensitivity.

This is the morning you make good on your flirtatious threats to wake him in the best way. He's been a good boy and deserves a treat - and so do you.

His breathing is more rapid as you finally pull him free of his pants; he's hot and more than half-hard in your hands already. Oswin writhes in his sleep and you hear your name drip from his lips. You must be making him dream...

You start with one long, slow swipe of your tongue and he moans in response. His hands grip the bedding, and you fear he will already wake. You kiss about the tender flesh, licking and sucking to make him squirm until he's groaning your name over and over in his sleep.

Watching his face, you line up and sink him fully into your mouth until he hits your throat. He wakes with a gasp, mouth hanging open as he pants and stares down at you.

You feel like a fish at the end of a hook, the bait lodged in your throat.

As Oswin finally understands what's going on, he doesn't say a word. You wiggle your tongue a bit as you drool over him, trying your best to be good and hold him in. His eyes narrow as he brings his hand to the back of your head.

Zahn: The odds of both Zahn and MC having this idea at the same time are higher than you might think, lol. They'd love it and they'd love to reciprocate.

Duri: They're pretending to still be asleep while MC gets to it.

Rune: Normally they're a bit groggy in the morning, so this is a refreshing way to get the blood flowing. Since MC has started this, even after they wake, they're going to let MC have the stage so they can admire every move they make.

???: MC does this once and then after, he's always pretending to be asleep at random times...

[alluvthegurlz]

GORGEOUS //

❝︎ i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way ❞︎

pairing || drew starkey x actress!reader

summary || drew and actress!reader meet for the first time at a party. with the help of some certain, meddling co-stars.

content || alcohol, pining, obx cast meddling, parties, a little suggestive at the end

yaps-a-lot || ‘gorgeous’ by taylor swift was on repeat so here we are. ending is a little rusty it’s been a while since i’ve written anything so bare with me :)

“just go talk to him.”

“absolutely not,” you protested quickly. madelyn and madison have spent the better part of an hour trying to get you to even look in the direction of their co-star who mingled across the room. none other than drew starkey. “i can’t say anything to his face, are you kidding?”

“why not?” madelyn whispered a little harshly.

“cause look at him!” you motioned a panicked hand in his direction as madelyn scoffed quietly. the roll of her eyes playful but not any less meaningful.

“you guys have been avoiding each other for months,” she reminded. “you can’t keep walking the other way when you run into each other on set.”

“it’s worked for me this long,” the tight lipped smile that followed was enough for madison to finally whine this time.

“c’mon,” mads whined. “you guys would be so good together.”

“says who?”

“everyone!” the two girls practically shouted.

you looked around the party slowly when everyone had looked over at the three of you. ignoring the shocked stares from everyone before you downed the rest of your drink, the liquor burning your throat that had you almost coughing it back up.

“jesus christ, i don’t think the people above us heard that,” you grumbled. “try it louder next time.”

you tried to walk away before madelyn was grabbing your arms and pulling you back. “nooooo, no, no. c’mon. just give him a chance. he’s seriously a good guy, there’s no need for this back and forth between you two.”

“there’s no back and forth between us because there’s nothing between us,” you offered stiffly.

madison had snuck off as madelyn’s pouted lips pouted even more as she held you in place.

“i think we both know that’s not true,” she joked.

you sighed a little heavily, letting yourself look back over at drew across the room. he was barely paying attention to the conversation that was going on between chase and jd, putting in a few words here and there, but he was two busy watching the party around the rim of his cup.

the music drowned into nothing as you watched him. his ocean blue eyes scanning the party like he was looking for something. or someone maybe. you.

it’s like the party froze when he met your eyes. the music muffled by the sound of the blood rushing to your ears, the hitch of your breath suddenly the loudest thing in the room as he sent the smallest of smiles your way. if you were being honest, you actually had no reason to avoid him on set. it was just the nerves really, which was weird for everyone to see cause you rarely got nervous around people. the last time you were nervous around someone was when you had met meryl streep on a red carpet one time. that was the only time anyone had seen you nervous simply because you were too starstruck.

so how in the hell was drew the only other one to get you to act that way?

the only thing that could break your eyes from him, was when they caught sight of madison walking up to him. you watched for a few seconds, watching her explain something before pointing in your direction.

“mm, nope. bye,” the second madison was dragging him over, you were turning around and sneaking away before madelyn could even grab you.

you didn’t stick around to hear what conversation had followed, weaving your way through the bustling party that seemed to get all that more stuffy the second madelyn and mads had started their tirade against you.

maybe it’s because you were freaking out slightly, or it was the alcohol.

the alcohol was the easiest thing to blame. it had worked in any situation before…so why wouldn’t it work in this one? you were definitely too tipsy to be left alone with the one co star everyone in that room was trying to set you up with. two young actors, both single, both incredibly hot, and both avoiding the person right in front of them. typical!

dating had been…hard, so to speak in the past. it was just something you couldn’t seem to enjoy. these days people were only after the idea of sleeping with the actress that everyone loved. they weren’t looking for an actual date that could lead to something. safe to say, the dating life was pretty much nonexistent.

and drew starkey was not going to be the one to break that streak.

another shot later and you were buzzing. maybe a little numb. definitely tipsy. it was hard to tell at that point.

“so, this is what my co-stars do at parties?” a voice sounded from behind you causing you to freeze. “ignore everyone and throw back shots.”

he was teasing, you could tell. you could even hear the slight smirk on his face before you looked over your shoulder slowly.

and sure as shit…drew starkey was behind you.

“it’s, uh —“ you cleared your throat. “helps with the nerves,” a short nod followed from you as the smile on his face grew. “lotta people.”

“people make you nervous?”

no. not at all. he made you nervous.

“sometimes,” you managed the confession through a whisper.

your eyes darted back to the drinks table in front of you, trying to find your next victim before settling on an easy mixed drink.

a quiet chuckle fell from his lips as he leaned against the table beside you, his own cup still resting comfortably in his hands and a hand in his pocket before he watched the party.

“you girls sure know how to throw a party,” he complimented. you, madelyn, and madison had been planning this party for months. one to celebrate the beginning of filming that started a little over two weeks ago.

“that’s all maddie and madison,” you brushed off. “i just supplied the alcohol,” you joked, holding up the liquor bottle to show it off as he looked over before pouring it into your cup.

he laughed again, a genuine one with a duck of his head. your nerves eased a little at the sound, the alcohol running through your system relaxing you even more.

you turned around, leaning back against the table with him as you carefully sipped away at your drink quietly. trying to avoid looking at him at any cost in all honesty.

you should’ve been mad at him. furious even for the way he was making you feel. this…nervous. that wasn’t normal.

god, he was so gorgeous.

the deep breath that escaped you had him curious, looking over at you as you caught it through the corner of your eye. the way his eyes tried to catch yours — it was making this worse. everything was so much easier when you could just ignore him. but the way you hugged your cup carefully to your chest, he couldn’t help but stare at you.

for a man who hadn’t said more than a few words to you, the magnetic field around him was a little too strong, you couldn’t help but be drawn to him. a silent glance towards him, a breath hitching at the back of your throat, every nervous swallow had you on your toes.

anyone else you had talked to with ease. like everyone was an old time friend with whom you were catching up with for the first time in years. he should be taking it as a compliment really that you were talking to everyone there but him.

something snapped you back into reality when he placed a careful hand on your ribs suddenly. reaching over for an unopened bottle of beer behind you. caging you between himself and the table, you were suddenly very aware of…everything.

the smell of his cologne, the t-shirt you wore that was well loved — stretched but not noticeable if you hadn’t been three inches from it — even the faint alcohol smell coming from him. it all grew tenfold when he had reached over you.

“sorry,” he apologized in a whisper you could barely hear.

“‘t’s okay,” you gave a small smile.

you followed as he leaned back once again, popping the bottle open with ease.

it would’ve done better to maybe be more mindful of where your eyes traveled. to respect him a little more like he deserved…but you just couldn’t help it. the way his shirt rode up a little and revealed the waist of his underwear when he ran a hand through his hair…it had you nervous all over again.

you cleared your throat again, taking a sip of your drink. he’d caught your eye for only a second, another smile growing on his face before he hid it behind the neck of his beer bottle when he drank some.

“so, what’s after this?” his question was a curious one, a hand motioning to the party before it scratched at the back of his neck.

you took a deep breath, taking a moment to think about it. the alcohol had hit your system now, the nerves dying down to nothing more than a light tingle. it’s what kept you alive.

“oh, you know…probably just gonna stumble on home to my cats,” the tease fell from your smiling lips with a shrug of your shoulder. your feet carrying you away back into the party and leaving drew alone just like you two had started the night. “unless you wanna come along?”

[crime-scene-psychic]

I honestly think that the Nolan Batman trilogy was the best and worst thing to happen to the Batman franchise, because on one hand, it was the first live-action instance of trying to make Batman more gritty and serious (because while the Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney movies took the story much more seriously than the 60s television show, they were still goofy at times, which is why I honestly think they're the best rendition of Batman, because they were able to balance silliness with seriousness, which is what Batman is all about, but that's obviously an entirely different thesis) which then allowed for more people to take comic book movies serious, consequently leading to the rise of the DCEU and, obviously, the MCU (we would not have the MCU today and the actual good movies that came out of it without Nolan's trilogy, there's simply no argument there).

However, the Nolan trilogy also unfortunately made "dark, gritty Batman" the norm, meaning that once anyone tries to actually have some fun with Batman, they immediately get shit on by comic book dude bros. It also created the most annoying characterization of the Joker that everyone has been trying to replicate since and no one will be able to replicate, because they simply do not understand the character (I honest to God think the closest live-action actor who has ever made a Joker character work besider Heath Ledger was Cameron Monaghan in the Gotham television show, and he wasn't even really Joker??? but at least he didn't make it everyone else's problem and was a good mix of goofy and psychotic, not just psychotic) and will never be Heath Ledger (but they don't stop trying much to my forever annoyment).

And while I can recognize the cultural and significant impact on the comic and film community that Nolan's trilogy had, it is still by far my least favorite adaptation because of how serious it takes itself (and of course, the racism. The racism is actually the bigger one for me. Fuck Christopher Nolan for that. Ra's al Ghul is NOT a white man just because you want a plot twist, and you CANNOT just erase Bane being mixed race because you fucking FEEL LIKE IT because him being mixed race is extremely relevant to his origin). Batman has had serious moments in the comics, don't get me wrong, and I know things must evolve and change over time and that I cannot expect an 80 year old character to not be further developed throughout the decades, but it almost feels as if Nolan and Goyer (the writer) read a Sparks Notes version of the history of Batman, cracked their knuckles, and said "yeah, I think I got it."

Spoiler alert: they did not get it.

When I watch the Nolan trilogy (which I haven't in quite some time and I really don't want to, even to prove a point to people on the Internet) I notice how uninspired it feels, story-wise. While the action and cinematography is excellent, the story is lacking for me, and when you're telling a story like Batman, that has decades of content, you cannot just forgo storytelling for cool special effects.

I'd much rather watch a Batman adaptation that has the shittiest effects known to man with a writer who whole-heartily cares for the characters they're writing and has taken time to research. And that's honestly one of the biggest problems the comic book film industry is having now, both DC and Marvel. They're not hiring people who actually care about these characters to write them and they're focusing much more at appealing to everyone they can instead of who the movies should be made for: fans.

You're gonna have such a harder time convincing my mom, a woman who only cares about Wonder Woman, to watch the new Captain America film than you would someone who has read the Sam Wilson Cap comic run. And while this entire issue stems from the fact that the film industry is just that, an industry, and has become less about filmmakers making art and more-so how much money investors and producers can get out of ticket sales, it is still infuriating to see franchises you care deeply about be ruined by guys just there to cash their paychecks and be done with it.

And really, the film industry as we know it needs to be fucking demolished from the inside out, but that will never happen and now we're a bit off-topic. So, back to Batman.

I think another issue I have with newer live-action Batman adaptations is that they choose to forgo a VERY IMPORTANT character when it comes to Batman/Bruce Wayne's evolution as a character and story line.

Robin.

Since whatever the fuck the casting of Chris O'Donnell in 1995 was (why was he, like, a grown man?), people have been afraid to touch a live-action Dick Grayson with a six-foot pole (besides Titans, which I'm gonna get to in a sec). Which is ridiculous, because he is, like I said, an insanely important character when it comes to showing the growth Bruce Wayne goes through.

Bruce Wayne becomes Batman because he is so angry about his parent's deaths and the corruption of Gotham that he doesn't know what else to do. All the money in the world cannot change things for the better, his own father tried and died for his troubles, and he is left with no other option. Bruce Wayne works during the day to fight corruption via charity and his company, Batman works during the night and is able to do what Bruce Wayne can't (beating the shit out of people, mainly). The two are separate sides of the same coin.

And despite this seeming like a good arrangement, it's pretty obvious in most adaptations (at least they get THAT right) that beating the shit out of people in back alleys is not a good replacement for therapy. You're able to see the toll being Batman has on Bruce. He quickly becomes more occupied with being a vigilante than being himself. Bruce needs something to break through this internal struggle and help him balance both lives.

And so a boy named Dick Grayson comes along.

Dick's so important (and so are the other Robins, of course, but Dick being the first means I have to talk about him a bit more) because he forced Bruce to get his shit together. Here's a boy who's about the same age Bruce was when his parents died, who also just saw his parents killed in front of him, and is so full of rage he has no idea what to do. Sounds familiar...

Bruce is able to help himself by helping Dick. He gives him an outlet to vent his anger and frustrations while also looking out for him in the best way he can. While there are many issues with how Robin comes to be in various comic runs (and if this was real life it would be fucking ridiculous) Dick becoming Robin is extremely important. If he hadn't been taken in by Bruce Wayne, if he'd been allowed to let that anger continue to bubble up inside of him, he probably would have killed Tony Zucco and that would have been enough to set Dick down a terrible path he might not recover from.

The same goes for Bruce. If he were to set out and kill the person who shot his parents, he wouldn't be a hero anymore because that single event would shatter the entire point of Batman, which is that he is not meant to decide who lives and dies. If he were, how would he be any different than all the villains in Gotham that he fights as Batman? How would he be better than the corrupt businessman and politicians that he has to battle as Bruce Wayne? He wouldn't.

Batman needs Robin and Robin needs Batman, because they are yin and yang. Light within darkness, darkness within light. You cannot separate these characters and still tell an accurate story, it's impossible. I think that's a huge issue Nolan's movies have, on top of many others. You cannot accurately present to me a Batman story if there is no Robin, just as you couldn't give me a Robin story without Batman.

Every Robin is so important to how Bruce Wayne as a character is developed, and disregarding this as a creator is not only disrespectful to the character, it misses the entire point. I refuse to take your adaptation of Batman seriously if you can't figure out how important Robin is. He isn't just some kid sidekick, he isn't an optional side character, he is what makes Batman human. You cannot have gritty, Neo-noir Batman and forgo Robin just because you see him as the sidekick in tights. When Batman was silly and took itself less seriously, sure, there wasn't a lot to Robin nor Batman's troubling pasts. But now that you want to deep dive into Bruce Wayne's psyche and pick apart what makes him the way he is you wanna throw in the towel and erase the part that humanizes him? Fuck. You.

You can't make a complex Bruce Wayne and take away parts that help audiences understand his complexities, that's fucking STUPID!

Titans, for all its faults and problems, will always have my gratitude as it had the fucking balls to give, without a doubt, the best and most rounded live-action adaptation of Dick Grayson we have ever seen. Titans introduces Dick at a very important and rocky time in his character arch: him leaving Bruce.

If you're not in the know, there's a falling out between Bruce and Dick that's been written a couple different ways over the years, but all comes down to Dick being "fired" from being Robin and leaving Gotham. This is a bit of a newer story line in comparison to how long the character of Dick Grayson has been around, and eventually leads to Dick becoming independent from Bruce, signalling his evolution from "side kick" to his own hero, Nightwing. However, there's issues with Dick having to give up the Robin mantel, because it's something that is whole-heartily Dick Grayson. Robin wasn't something Bruce Wayne came up with, it was the nickname his parents gave to him. Even the colors are his, those were the colors of the Flying Graysons' uniforms. Robin is much more than just a vigilante alter-ego to Dick, it is the last link he has to his past and his parents. So when this is taken away from him and given to another, this causes a huge internal struggle for Dick, as he has to deal with the anger he now has for Bruce, a man he originally looked up to and idolized. This is Dick seeing how wrong it was for Bruce to do some of the things he did to Dick, despite at the time those choices being what both needed.

The way Titans is able to portray this extremely delicate time in Dick's story line in a way that not only makes sense for his character, but also allows for growth is really admirable. Like I said, the show isn't perfect by any means (can I PLEASE get a Romani actor to play Dick PLEASE) but it's the first time I feel that the character is wholeheartedly taken serious in a live-action setting. You can tell the writers have a better idea about how the characters should interact in a live-action setting and while some choices are questionable to me, the heart is there.

Nolan's movies in comparison feel soulless and devoid of all creativity and love. He does not care about these characters, no matter how much he tries to make you think that, and he never will. Christopher Nolan, you will NEVER convince me that you give two shits about Bruce Wayne. And if you, the director, can't bother to care, why should the audience? Why should I care about your adaptation if you can't even be bothered to put an ounce of individuality into it?

With Matt Reeves' Batman films underway, things are getting worse again. For a while, we only had to deal with the shitty Joker adaptations that tried to replicate Ledger's Joker, but with the Reeves Batman movies, the film bros are making themselves known again. I remember when the new design for the Riddler dropped and I said it was shit and people on Twitter and YouTube got SO PISSY at me and told me I just don't understand Batman and that I'm childish for enjoying the designs for Gotham Riddler/ Batman Forever Riddler and whatever and that I'm stupid, which none of those things are true, I hate to be confident in anything, but I think I know more about Batman than you do, Twitter troll.

The suit sucked and the character sucked. They just created a new character but gave him the Riddler's name. That's NOT the Riddler. That's honestly closer to Hush than Riddler, so just... do that? But of course, less people know about Hush than Riddler, and you're not trying to make a film for fans, you're trying to make money, so why would you ever be so silly as to do that! I'm not gonna talk to much about the new Riddler, just because it's super old news and it's not the point I was trying to make here, it's just something that continues to piss me off when it comes to gritty recreations of characters, because Riddler really never was supposed to be some Zodiac Killer wannabe, he's supposed to be a guy who leaves you riddles and makes you solve them and he's supposed to be a little silly about it. And I'm not saying you can't do a more gritty Riddler, because Arkham Knights did it super well imo! Just don't reinvent the wheel! Don't just make a new character and call him by another's name, that's a disservice to the character themselves and their creators.

This is a hard topic, because you have people who get the point of these characters (people who have actually read a comic before and paid attention to the story) but you also have insufferable film/comic bros who worship the ground Nolan and Reeves walks upon and who don't even take time to explore the rest of the Batfamily comics (his gang of vigilante children show up in the stand-alone Batman comics, though, so I don't know how they're missing this, unless they have the reading comprehension of a goldfish, which they probably do tbh). It's why I think a lot of these weirdos don't like Gotham Knights or Wayne Family Adventures, because they hate the thought of there being any semblance of fun in the Batman franchise. Not everything needs to be doom and gloom! Let Dick Grayson be bisexual and let Bruce Wayne have a PTA rival! You can have your cake and eat it too!

I know this seems like a silly sentiment coming from a person who just wrote an entire essay on this, but maybe don't take Batman so seriously? I don't mean, of course, that you can't care about these characters, I'm actually saying the opposite! I care very deeply for these characters, so much that I obviously spat all this out. I just think some people need to fucking chill when it comes to realistically portraying Batman. There's nothing wrong with taking a more serious approach to the characters and I have no problem modernizing them, but you can't just have action hero Batman, you have to have the human behind the mask too. And if you can't balance that, then I'm sorry, but you shouldn't be making Batman adaptations, because you obviously don't understand what the character is about.

I'm nervous to see where Reeves will go with the character, and only time will tell. I've heard rumors he plans to introduce Robin, I've heard rumors he doesn't. Either way, it's obviously out of my hands and I'll have opinions either way, but I really hope he has a better understanding of the history of the franchise than Nolan. While I appreciate, again, what Nolan did for revolutionizing not only the Batman franchise but the comic movie industry as well, I can still find faults in how he went about things. I truly don't believe we can have a worthy adaptation of Batman live action without Robin and without embracing the silliness of Batman's villains and I really hope producers, writers, and directors realize that soon.

Sorry if you read all that...

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek of the next chapter of Come Away, O Human Child

“Where did all the water go?”

“All right, you can just drop Chris off at Abuela’s after you two get back from the pier today…she’s gonna keep him overnight,” Eddie says as he enters the kitchen, still threading his belt through the loops on his pants.

Buck salutes him half-heartedly with his coffee mug, still mostly asleep and slumped over on the kitchen table. He makes a vaguely content noise when Eddie runs his hand through his hair on the way to the coffeepot, reaching up to snag his partner’s wrist and reeling him in for a brief, toothpaste-flavored kiss before letting him go. He watches Eddie fill his travel mug and add cream and sugar to his liking, enjoying the way the early-morning sunlight creeping in through the window over the sink paints his partner’s skin in warm, golden light.

“You sure you still feel like taking him out? You could just go see a movie or something—or even just hang out and play video games all day. He won’t be disappointed,” Eddie says, rifling through the pantry and pulling out a couple of protein bars. Bobby will no doubt have an actual breakfast going at the firehouse. Just last week, Buck probably would have woken Chris up a little early and following Eddie in to eat at the 118 before setting out with Chris on their planned adventure.

He doesn’t want to right now, though. He doesn’t want to even see Bobby, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to hide his upset from the rest of the team.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he mumbles finally, when Eddie turns back to him with a raised eyebrow and he realizes he hasn’t actually answered the question. He sits up, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eddie presses his lips together, glancing at his watch before sitting down at the table across from him. He slides his hand onto the tabletop, turning it over so his palm is open in invitation, and Buck takes it in an instant. “You’ve been really quiet since the party. And I mean…I know I said I’d give you time to get your head around whatever it is. But…I dunno, I just don’t want you to think I haven’t noticed.”

Buck’s hand tightens around Eddie’s, almost involuntarily. The words, combined with the genuine concern and care he can read in his partner’s dark eyes, settling like a warm, solid weight in his chest. “I’m all right,” he says softly, and for the moment it’s almost true.

Eddie watches him a moment longer, his gaze sharp and assessing, before finally nodding. “All right. But I still mean it—we’re sitting down while Chris is at Abuela’s and we’re hashing everything out. We’ve got this, okay?”

Buck both desperately wants and desperately wants to avoid that conversation. He is ashamed to admit it, but he’s afraid to tell Eddie what he learned about what Bobby has been doing behind the scenes to delay his recertification. Afraid to tell him about the conversation he had with Eddie’s mother right before the shield ceremony. Try as he might, he cannot drown out the part of him insisting that Eddie will agree with them. Maybe not at first…but after he has time to sit back and really think about it? After he takes a good, hard look at their arguments and reasons?

Unwanted thing. Unloved thing.

He shakes his head, trying to banish the queasy feeling in his gut that never quite vanishes lately. Deep down, he knows it’s not really fair to assume what Eddie’s thoughts will be—isn’t that partially how he got into the whole mess of not being able to speak about his curse with people who don’t already know about it? He knows he’s not doing right by Eddie, not doing right by this new thing that has sprouted between them and quickly become the most important of all the roots grounding Buck in LA…but he can’t bring himself to stop, either.

Unwanted.

“I know we do,” he says instead, swallowing back all his fears, all his doubts, swallowing them down and forcing them aside for just a little longer. Just a little more time, he thinks…a little more time to soak up this up, to wrap himself in the beautiful, impossible dream of this life, this family, this man for just a little longer.

Wait…that…that makes no sense. Eddie’s not…he hasn’t given any indication that he’s not just as in this as Buck is. He isn’t acting like it’s all temporary. He’s pulled Buck right into the center of his family, with him and Chris. He’s carved out space in his home, his life, offered it all up to Buck. Eddie’s mother is wrong. Eddie’s not going to just toss him aside for someone else—he would never do that to Buck. Why is he—

His head aches.

Poor unwanted thing…

“Where did all the water go?”

*

The water rushes around him, battering, pulling, clawing at his body. Debris slams into him—wood, garbage, carnival toys, branches, food, the collected detritus of the boardwalk that is now underwater and he can barely cling to the string of lights stretching over him. His ocean boon burns on his chest, the magic Sara and Rafael gifted him with feeling like acid dripping through him as he turns his head and vomits up water he’d swallowed. The boon makes it hard for him to drown in seawater—will help him stay afloat, will force his body to expel water, can increase his lung capacity.

But it is not gentle about it.

“Christopher!” he screams. “Chris!” He searches the churning, frothing water, his eyes darting over the debris bobbing along like toys in some giant’s bathtub. Cars and bikes and shopping bags and canvas tents that had housed boardwalk games, God how will he find Chris in all this? “Chris!” he screams again, his throat burning, panic choking him. All he can hear is the roar of water, the ocean tearing into the land, racing through the streets and upending everything. He can’t find him. Then, faintly, so faintly he almost misses it:

“Buck!”

He gasps, pulling himself up as far out of the water as he can. “Chris? Chris!” He scans his surroundings, his heart pounding, fear and adrenaline crashing through him. Finally, finally he catches a glimpse of the yellow shirt Christopher was wearing, a small, dark head bobbing above the torrent. Chris clings to a streetlamp, a few dozen yards away. “Christopher! I see you! I’m coming!”

There is no room for hesitation, for planning. He closes his eyes, centers himself, and lets go of the cable, plunging back down into the rushing water. The boon pulses on his chest and he lets the magic take him, his perfect faith in the gift his friends had given him carrying him as he cuts through the wild water like an arrow, aiming as best he can for Chris. The current is strong, impossible to fight, and even the ocean boon can’t give him the power he’d need to completely control his trajectory. He ducks under the water and comes up again, straining towards the lamppost Chris is barely hanging onto. He’s a strong swimmer even without the ocean boon, always has been, but the water rushing around him is a force of nature, utter chaos. He’s not going to be able to hit the post head on, the current tugging him to the side, pushing him away, away, away.

“Grab my hand!” he bellows desperately, turning over on his back and trying to tread water, slow himself enough to give Chris time to orient himself; get ready. “Reach out and grab my hand!”

Chris tries. For a split-second Buck thinks he’s going to make it and he strains forward, kicking against the water, reaching for Chris as hard as he can.

“No! No, no!” Not far enough. The tips of his fingers barely brush Christopher’s, the water carrying him away before he can latch onto the boy’s hand. For a moment, he thinks Chris is going to let go of the pole to try and dive after him and new horror rushes through him. “No, Chris! Stay right there!”

“I can’t hold on!” Christopher screams, terror cracking his small voice.

“Just hold on, Christopher!” he begs, searching for something, anything he can grab and brace himself on. Chris is going to lose his grip. It’s going to happen and Buck will have one chance to save him. One chance to reach him. If he loses Christopher now, he’ll die. He’ll drown in the frothing, rabid waves or he’ll be crushed by some flooded debris, but he will die. Buck has one chance.

He catches a drift of debris out of the corner of his eye—piled up vehicles, maybe some kind of food cart, with what looks like a surfboard sticking out further into the water—and twists his body, pulling towards it until he fetches up hard against the board. Christopher howls his name as he pulls himself from the water, turns, braces himself ready to leap.

He has one chance.

Christopher’s grip slips from the streetlamp.

"Where did all the water go?"

[achilles-rage]

Stop Moving

summary: when you’re both invited to an old friend’s wedding, you decide to share a hotel room to save money. imagine your surprise when you open the door and realize that there’s only one bed.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this was gonna be a drabble based on a couple prompts, but i got carried away, so here’s this!! it’s a mix of a bunch of different tropes, hope you enjoy<33

warnings: smut, buck living up to the nickname firehose (hehe), reader’s first time, friends to lovers, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

You were surprised when you got the wedding invitation; you haven’t heard from the groom in years, not since you met him when you were visiting your grandparents when you were a teenager. You were even more surprised when your friend from work, Buck, had also gotten an invitation.

Small world, you think.

You learned that they had met when he was travelling the country in his early twenties, and although neither of you had seen him in years, you thought you’d both go together. To save money.

You felt like you’d been driving for hours as you make your way to the wedding, but finally, Buck pulls into the hotel parking lot.

You lug all of your bags inside and get the key to your room; deciding to room together for a couple of nights. It’s not like you’ll be in the room much, anyway, and you’re close enough with Buck that it doesn’t seem like a big deal.

It feels like a bit bigger of a deal, though, when you open the door and see one queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

Yoy let out a sigh as you walk over and drop your bags on the bed, too tired to think about the complications of your situation.

“I can go down and ask for a different room?” Buck says, his words barely registering as you sit down on the bed then lay back, closing your eyes.

“It’s fine. We can do it tomorrow. I'm too tired.” you mumble, and when he finally turns and sees you already laying on the bed, he chuckles softly.

“Yeah, sure. Alright. We can definitely do that.” he says, throat going dry as it sinks in that you’ll be sharing a bed.

He’s liked you for months, but he’s been too afraid of ruining your friendship, so he’s never done anything about his feelings.

You both take your turns changing in the bathroom, and when you pull your pajamas out of your bag, your stomach drops. You were expecting to be sleeping alone, and all you packed was an oversized shirt. One that just barely covers your ass.

You put the shirt on with a loud sigh, then peek your head out of the bathroom door to see Buck already in bed, shirtless.

“Okay, I only packed a pajama shirt. So, we’re gonna ignore it, and never talk about this again.” you say as you look around the corner at him. His eyes raise up to meet yours when he hears your voice, and then he smirks, setting his phone down on his lap to watch your walk of shame.

“Right, no teasing. Got it.” he says smugly, eyes glued to you as you finally step out from around the corner and make your way towards your side of the bed.

His eyes travel down your bare legs, and he has to fight the urge to let out a low groan. He watches the way your thick thighs move with each step, and he has to force his eyes back up to your face. He wouldn’t be able to explain away the fact that he’s rock hard under the sheets if you were to notice.

You turn off your lamps and get settled without another word, but after a little while, you feel a shiver erupt through your body. It's freezing in this room, and the thin sheets aren’t doing a thing to protect you from the cold.

Buck feels you shiver beside him, and he gets up quickly and walks over to the a/c unit to turn up the heat. You hear him huff a moment later, and you lift your head off the pillow to look at the outline of his body in the dark, brow raised.

“The A/C is broken. It’s stuck at this temperature.” he says with a huff, then gets back into bed.

When he’s back under the sheets, he reaches out and touches your arm, hissing quietly as his fingers feel how cold your skin is.

“You’re freezing. come here.” he tells you, opening his arms and urging you over.

“No, I'm fine.” you try to reassure him just as a shiver ripples through your body; from your head to your toes.

“No, come here. I'll warm you up.” You sigh, then move over to him slowly, turning around and pressing your back to his chest as he pulls you closer.

You feel instantly warmer as his skin touches yours, but now you just feel awkward, not wanting to move. His breath is hitting your neck with each exhale, and he feels so good wrapped around you, but you can feel your heart threatening to burst out of your chest at your situation.

After a while, you think he’s fallen asleep, so you move slightly, trying to get comfortable in his arms. You’re still pressed against him, but you don’t think you’re moving that much. You’re proven wrong, however, when his hand grips your hip hard, forcing you to stop moving.

“Stop moving.” he whispers, voice tight and sharp.

“Whg? I’m just trying to-” you begin, but the words die in your throat when you feel his hard cock against your back.

Your lips part in surprise, and your breath catches in your throat at the idea that you did that to him. God, you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole right now.

“I'm sorry.” you whisper, beginning to move away from him, but his hand on your hip stops you immediately.

“Don’t apologize.” he replies, then raises up onto his elbow, looking down at you as you turn slightly to meet his eyes.

He can see the uncertainty in your eyes, but he can also see the emotions behind it as well, the lust, and without thinking twice, he leans down and kisses you softly.

The kiss starts out unsure, his hand trembling just a millimetre from your cheek as he gauges your reaction. But, when he feels you melt into him, he kisses you deeper, desperately.

You moan softly against his lips, and when he gets that hint of satisfaction from you, he’s quick to move on top of you, hips pinning you down as his kisses move down your neck.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” he rasps against your skin while one hand moves up and down your side and the other holds himself up.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask as he brings his head back to look at you, smiling cheekily.

“Didn’t wanna ruin the friendship.” he says with a shrug, then kisses your lips again. His actions are like he can’t even believe this is happening, and you don’t believe it either. You just hope to anyone that will listen that this isn’t only happening because he’d be turned on by anyone in his bed.

“It's ruined now.” you say softly, a smile making its way onto your face as he pulls back and lets his fingers move down your body and towards the waistband of your panties.

“Yeah, I’d say so.” he says with a quiet chuckle before letting his fingers dip under the fabric of your panties and attach to your throbbing clit.

You have to bite back a moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip as his fingers move in gentle circles, but he shakes his head, tutting softly.

“Uh, uh. Let me hear you.” he tells you earnestly, taking in the sight of you looking up at him with so much desperation in your eyes.

“Buck, please.” you whisper after a moment, feeling lust fill your belly. All you want right now is him, not his fingers.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes searching yours as he slows the movements of his fingers working at your clit.

“Yes.” you say breathlessly, nodding fervently. Without another word he pushes your panties to the side, and then pulls himself from his pants, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Wait,” you hesitate just as the head of his cock threatens to push past your glistening folds. “I've never- I haven't done this before.”

He stops immediately, stilling as he processes your words. You feel your cheeks heating up as he looks down at you with furrowed brows, embarrassment filling your body at your confession.

“Never?” he clarifies, tilting his head to the side.

“No.” you whisper, voice barely audible as your eyes dart away from his.

You’re surprised when his lips meet yours again, his touch and presence so reassuring as your racing heartbeat slows.

“That's alright. We can take it as slow as you want.” he tells you when he pulls back, eyes soft and understanding. His smile makes you smile, and you nod slowly, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Okay, I'm ready.” you tell him, and he nods, telling you to stop him if you need a break before he begins to push his cock into your dripping pussy.

“There we go, good girl. Just relax for me.” he coos, easing into you slowly to let you adjust to his size. He feels guilty as he sees your face scrunch up in discomfort, but he knows that the feeling is normal, and he needs to take it slowly to make sure you’re okay.

“Doing so good. Almost there, baby.” he reassures you when he’s halfway into you, feeling your grip on his shoulders tighten as you grow accustomed to the sheer size of him.

Finally, he’s buried himself to the hilt, but he stays still, wanting you to feel comfortable enough for him to begin to move again.

“Tell me when I can move, okay?” he says, looking into your eyes as they flutter closed, and then open, and then closed.

“Okay. You can move.” you say after a moment, opening your eyes and looking up at him.

He nods, then pulls out slowly, watching your face for any sign of pair or discomfort before pushing back into you, groaning as you clench around him and pull him further into your tight cunt.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” he growls, bringing his head down to press his lips to yours, trying to keep your mind off the slight discomfort you no doubt feel. He knows he’s not necessarily the best person to take you for the first time; his size having been a problem even with more experienced women, but he doesn’t even want to think about you giving yourself to another man.

No one else will treat you as well as him. No one will take their time with you like he will.

He keeps his pace slow and steady, moaning in your ear each time you whimper or squirm under him.

It doesn’t take long for either of you to get close to the edge; the very idea that he finally has you being enough to get Buck there, and the attention he gives to your clit with his fingers having that pit in your belly growing with each second that passes

“Buck, I’m gonna-” you whimper, clenching around him as you teeter on the edge.

“Let go, pretty girl. I’ve got you.” he purrs in your ear, feeling himself twitching inside of you as he brings his lips back to yours again.

You both cum with loud moans, bodies going taut in pure ecstasy as Buck fills you full of his seed. At this moment he thinks about the fact that he doesn’t know if you’re even on birth control, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re squeezing him so fucking good.

When he finally pulls out, he goes to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and clean you up, and then he pulls you into his arms and lets you rest your head against his chest.

Right as you drift to sleep, Buck speaks quietly, his arm squeezing your shoulder as he whispers “I love you.”

The next day goes by quickly. The wedding is beautiful, and your shared friend is exactly the same as you both remember him.

You both sit right beside each other at your table for dinner, Buck’s hand never leaving your thigh.

He's finally got you, and he never wants to let you go again. Especially when you look so pretty in your dress.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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