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puck-luck · 4 months ago

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evening embrace | jack hughes

warnings: oral (m! & f! receiving) aka 69 BABYYYY!!!!! whiny jack, silly jack, established realtionship af, very domestic pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader request: "jack hughes coming home from practice or a game all grumpy and frustrated and just ranting endlessly about whatever is pissing him off so u just casually decide to give him head mid-rant. without a word you just start palming him over his pants while he’s mid sentence and he’d be like “baby, what are you doing?” and you’d casually make your way to your knees with a shrug and say “you’re stressed, seem like you could use some relief” and once you’ve got his dick out and you’re about to bring it to your lips you’d say “you can continue with your ranting baby, promise i won’t get distracted” with an innocent little pout i-" wc: 4423

Jack had a bad day. The Devils just had their first few preseason games and Jack, although he felt ready to get back into his normal routine, feels like his shoulder injury from last season is still a little tender. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment that he snapped, but he thinks that he blacked out around the time when he missed a pivotal pass that resulted in a breakaway and goal in the game today. He’s never been so angry after a game�� and this is just preseason.

He bursts through the door to your shared apartment, already ranting.

“This is shit,” Jack complains, dropping his bags in the doorway and kicking off his shoes.

“What’s shit, Jacky?” You ask from the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and reading a book. Now that he’s home, though, you set the book down and give him your attention.

“I’m not playing good enough,” Jack huffs out, frustrated and annoyed. “It’s my stupid shoulder. I’ve rehabbed it, I’ve gotten it fixed through surgery, and I still feel like I’m not playing at 100%.”

“Aw, honey, come sit,” you say, patting the cushion beside you.

Jack stalks over, collapsing onto the couch cushions and pulling you onto his lap. He kisses you hello before going back to his ranting.

“I knew I needed to work more on my wrister before the game,” he says. “But Keefe wanted us to run drills at camp so that we could be better all-around.”

You hum when you need to, but Jack’s just complaining and pouting. He had a tough day and wants to get all of his negative thoughts out, knowing that you don’t mind listening to him when he has problems.

“And I appreciate being a good team all-around, you know,” Jack continues. “But there should be times during practice when a guy can go work on his own shit, which will make the team better overall once he’s perfected the skill.”

“Maybe you can talk to Nico about that,” you murmur, tracing the letters on Jack’s shirt.

“I don’t want to be that guy,” Jack grumbles. “It’s a team sport. If Keefe wants us to practice as a team, then that’s what we’ll do. He’s the coach.”

You nod absentmindedly, adjusting yourself on Jack’s lap. Your hand continues to pet over his covered chest as he talks. His muscles are defined; it’s clear that he put in the work during his time off. You know he did, actually. You’ve watched his body swell and gain muscle mass over the summer and you’ve been able to see the changes up close and personal.

But not this past week: training camp started and Jack has been so tired and stressed out that he’ll come home, eat dinner with you, and collapse into bed with nary a makeout sesh anywhere. He’s been too tired to get off with you, although you know it relaxes him and helps him keep his mind clear, so you haven’t pushed.

Yet, as he talks about his day, you can’t stop thinking about how much better this would be if your lips were wrapped around his dick.

Your hand drops to his lap, palming his length over his shorts and interrupting Jack’s sentence.

He catches your wrist. “Baby, what are you doing?” Jack asks. “I’m talking to you.”

You blink up at him innocently, moving from his lap and sliding down to the ground. You situate yourself prettily on your knees, right between his thighs. Again, you touch the front of his shorts, rubbing the area like you’re giving him a handjob over his pants. “You seem stressed,” you tell him, simply. “Like you could use some relief.”

Jack’s mouth is agape, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “I– um, yeah, I mean, I guess I’m stressed,” he replies, agreeing with you with an additional nod.

“Let me help,” you offer, cupping his bulge with your hand before leaning in to brush a fleeting kiss against the growing tent. You mouth along for a moment before bringing his waistband down, revealing his tight boxer-briefs. His semi is much more noticeable in just the underwear, straining more against the fabric as he grows harder. You fit your lips over the tip of his cock and suck slightly, through his shorts, just to make Jack jump.

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, touching the back of your neck hesitantly. He moves like he’s still confused and not quite sure what’s happening.

“Keep talking, baby,” you say to him as you pull his length out of his underwear and start to stroke it. You press a kiss to the crown of his cock, then pull back. “I’m listening. I promise I won’t get distracted.” You blink up at him through your eyelashes, watching countless emotions pass over Jack’s face before you kitten-lick over his slit and hum in approval.

“It’s just hard,” Jack says, his eyes still wide and blown because of the shock that came over him when you made your bold move. “To, uh–”

He trails off, gesturing helplessly as your tongue traces the veins on the underside of his cock. You hum, bobbing your head in a commiserating, blatantly sarcastic nod. You know what you’re doing to him. You know that Jack goes boneless whenever you suck him off, that he promptly loses his words when you gag on his cock.

So, you pull away from him. You let your spit pool where it lay while your lips were around him– able to use it as lube as you pump him, blinking up at him like you’re unimpressed. “C’mon, J. I thought you had things to be frustrated about.”

“I do!” Jack exclaims, finding his words after your mouth parts from his body.

“Oh, you do,” you repeat, a smug little smile on your face. “So tell me about it.”

“I– well– it doesn’t matter now,” Jack whines, his hips twitching under your calm palm.

You furrow your brow and tilt your head to the side. “It doesn’t?”

Jack covers his face with his hands and makes a frustrated noise.

“Well, if that doesn’t matter, then why am I doing this?” You ask, feigning complete confusion even as you continue to stroke him. Jack has obviously gotten side tracked– and the relief of your mouth is like a wet rag on a dry erase board: it wipes everything completely clean and fresh. “I thought I was offering you something sweet to make up for your bad day.”

“You are, just– stop stopping!”

You move your head from side to side with each word in your response: “You can’t make me!”

At a stalemate, Jack deflates. He frowns to himself, then pointedly at you. You’re still stroking him, just teasing him, waiting for him to sweetly ask you to continue until–

Jack pulls you up onto the couch and takes your place, sinking to the ground on his knees with his pants and underwear pooling around his ankles. He doesn’t bother to take his clothes off before he touches your leggings reverently with a light ghosting of his fingertips. He brushes a sweet kiss against the inside of your thigh as he touches you, but the sweetness and teasing doesn’t last very long.

“How was your day?” Jack asks with a smirk and another kiss to your covered skin. He pulls at the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down your legs in a totally obvious way.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you warn.

“Not doing anything,” Jack teases.

“Don’t lie to me, Jack Hughes.”

“Full name,” Jack notes offhandedly. He licks his lips and rubs his thumb along your slit, still covered by your godforsaken panties. If he’s going to do something, he had better do it. “Just giving my baby a taste of her own medicine,” he adds.

“My day was fine, thank you very much,” you retort.

Jack hums, fiddling with the edge of your panties, the part of the underwear that’s covering his favorite part of you. “What’d you do?” He asks.

“I showered,” you say.

“Without me,” Jack adds. You don’t have time to berate him for acting like a fuckboy– not when he starts mouthing over your hipbones until he finds the waistband of your panties. He takes the band between his teeth and drags the fabric down to meet your leggings. All the while, he stares up at you with his own wide, blown, horny eyes.

“And I had breakfast, then I worked for a while, then I got lunch with my coworker like I told you about last night–” You continue, but Jack interrupts, pulling away from your bare cunt.

He pouts a bit. “What coworker?” Jack asks. “Who was it again?”

You muster the courage to glare at him. Jack just grins, his thumb sweeping through your folds like he hasn’t got a care in the world.

“Sadie,” you remind him. “The new girl in accounting.”

“Oh, Sadie,” Jack drawls, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. “How could I forget about Sadie?” He smiles at you briefly to show that he’s messing with you, then nears your mound. “What did you eat?” He asks, just before replacing his thumb with the tip of his tongue, pride written all over his face as you take a deep breath.

“We got those Mediterranean bowls you like,” you say. You don’t tell him that there’s one in the fridge waiting for him.

“Without me,” Jack repeats, sounding a little more forlorn than the first time. Who knew that showering without your boyfriend would be less titillating than a Mediterranean bowl from that place down the street?

Regardless, you still don’t tell him about your little surprise in the kitchen.

“Without you,” you agree. “I can’t always be with you, you know.”

“Mhm, and it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever had to go through,” Jack says, using his thumbs to pull your lips apart so he can really dig in and lavish your cunt. Jack drinks up the gasp that leaves your mouth when his tongue twirls against your clit, then drops lower to press against your entrance. Jack presses a kiss against your entrance before his tongue really works into you, rendering him quiet.

You know he expects you to continue speaking, just as you expected him to continue. One thing you’ve always been better at than Jack is compartmentalizing– you swear it comes with the territory of being a woman compared to being a man– but you’ve missed this so much that you don’t care about his gloating that will come later.

“Jack, come–”

You interrupt yourself with a breathy gasp, hands flying to his hair. Jack has always loved when you tug at the brown waves adorning his head, so the heady look in his eyes when he looks up at you is no surprise. It’s also no surprise that your gasp has Jack flattening his tongue and showering your cunt with attention.

You had meant to ask him to come back up onto the couch, wanting him to be comfortable, but Jack doesn’t seem to care. You still want him to fill your mouth. There’s a trace of his salty precum on your tongue and the absence of his cock on the muscle leaves you writhing.

He eats you out messily, getting your juices all over his lips, cheeks, and chin. When he pulls away to catch a breath, you admire how his chest heaves with the effort to fill his lungs before diving back in and the way he licks his lips. You grip his hair, tugging slightly to get his attention, and then Jack’s disheveled baby blues are back on you. He smiles dopily, moving to wrap his lips around your clit, but before he can, you speak.

“Come up here,” you implore, tugging at his hair again.

“Wanna stay here,” Jack replies, succeeding in his efforts to reconnect with your core this time.

Despite the shockwaves flying through your body at his powerful suction, you remain steadfast. You’re even able to string a sentence together that has Jack pausing: “Please, J, wanna suck you too,” you complain.

It isn’t long until Jack thinks of a joke to refute you. “Baby, I’m 86, not 69.”

“Jack,” you complain, tugging his hair again indignantly as he laughs against your cunt, enjoying his own joke. “Not funny.”

“Very funny,” Jack mumbles, fitting a finger inside of you and thumbing over your clit in the absence of his mouth. You’re grinding down against him now, not nearly full enough or satisfied enough. Jack’s smirk tells you that there’s more coming. “You want to have my cock in your mouth so bad that you’ll do your least favorite sex position on the couch?”

You groan. Of course he remembered the conversation he walked in on when you had your girlfriends over a couple of months ago– a lengthy, very detailed, very philosophical conversation about which sex positions are practical and impractical, as well as what places are more practical than others.

You don’t suck Jack off as he eats you out often. It’s not something you ever really feel the need to do, even though Jack has admitted to loving the way you’ll moan against his cock and rock back into his mouth like you’re unsure which is better. The reason you don’t do it often, though, is that you can rarely finish like that. And Jack, being the doting, pussy-drunk boyfriend he is, would rather have you in a position where you’ll come all over his cock or his face rather than struggle to make it to your destination.

As for the couch, you’ve always thought that it’s more fun to ride Jack and distract him from whatever he’s watching on the TV, or for him to bend you over the edges of the furniture to pound into you from behind.

But today– today, you’re confident that you can finish. It’s been over a week since Jack felt like doing anything and you’re needy. You’re not ashamed of it, either– you love your boyfriend and the passion shared between you both is enough to steam up the windows of the apartment. It’s no secret that Jack does everything he can to make you feel good.

Which is how you’re going to convince him to get back on the couch and fill you completely, please you from both ends until you’re boneless and smothering him with your cunt– “The ideal way to die,” according to Jack, and all of his friends who insisted he was right when he dared to bring up sex at one of the parties on the lake house the previous summer.

“Jack,” you say, simple and plain. You lean forward on the couch, reaching down to cradle his face in your palms. Your hands get sticky with your own slick, but it’s no big deal. After all, you’d already touched Jack’s dick, so it’s not like your hands are clean. You press a fleeting kiss to his nose, making Jack grin widely. “Wanna sit on this pretty face,” you tell him. “While I gag on your cock.”

“Mm, yeah?” Jack asks. The way he perks up is laughable: if he was a dog, he’d be wagging his tail. “Gonna come in my mouth while I come in yours?”

You shiver at the thought of a simultaneous orgasm– your own warmth and relaxation taking over your body while Jack fills you up. You nod slightly, biting your lip to hold back a needy whine. Your eyelashes flutter as you watch Jack stand from his spot between your legs.

He lays on the couch, his head resting on a throw pillow for some extra leverage. He makes himself comfortable, and it’s a little silly that both of you still have your shirts on, but Jack sticks out his tongue and waves you forward. The position makes you laugh, combined with his antics, so you make a silly move of your own.

You crawl towards him, across the couch, trying to look like Sophie in Mamma Mia while she and Sky sing ‘Lay All Your Love on Me,’ but there’s no music playing. It’s just you and Jack and your soft little giggles, which are eventually quieted by a sweet kiss and a swipe of Jack’s tongue against your own. You can taste yourself on him and he can taste himself on you, which has Jack smiling into the kiss. His teeth clink against yours for a second, then he pats your hip and you pull away.

“Come have a seat, baby,” Jack invites, unable to wipe the grin off of his face. You shake your head and avert your eyes, blushing a little bit at how giddy you’ve made him with just a few kisses, some attention to his cock, and access to your pussy.

“Forgotten all about your bad day?” You tease.

“It turned out okay, I think,” Jack replies with a wink. He keeps his hands on your body as you turn, then line yourself up with his mouth. You’ve got the perfect view of his cock in this position, standing up and red for you, just waiting for you to lean forward and welcome him into the warm wetness of your mouth.

Jack hasn’t waited to admire you. He’s already sloppily mouthing at your lips, sliding his tongue against your clit. He has his arms looped around your thighs, hands planted squarely on your ass. He grips your cheeks and spreads them so that he can pull you back further and work his tongue inside of you. For your hesitation, he gives your clit a little nip to encourage you forward. It doesn’t hurt, but it does surprise you, and you let out a hushed yelp. Jack giggles before returning to your entrance, prodding at you.

You bend forward, laying across Jack’s body and holding yourself up by laying your forearms on his abdomen. Your left hand pets over the skin on his hip while your right holds his base steady. You gather some spit in your mouth before letting it drip onto his slit. The fluid drips down his cock, but you’re determined to replace your spit with ropes of his cum.

You take him in your mouth as far as you can, moaning when his tip nudges the back of your throat. He twitches in your mouth, involuntary but welcome. You love when he’s unable to control his reactions, doubling down on his enthusiasm at your core.

You can feel yourself dripping all over Jack’s face. His hands are strong on your hips, pulling you back to grind against his mouth. Taking an arm from around your thigh, he brings his fingers back to your core, sliding two inside of you while he focuses on your clit.

He’s so messy and he keeps making slurping sounds because he’s so into it, which is completely not sexy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You treasure the moans and hums that follow the unattractive slurping– Jack’s voice has grown high-pitched and needy, completely intoxicated by your taste.

You imagine him now, cheeks flushed just as pink as yours. Hell, his lips are probably swollen and the same shade of red as his tip.

You bring a hand up to move your hair to one side of your head, the strands brushing Jack’s thigh and tickling him slightly. It’s necessary for you to give this blowjob your full attention, and you can’t have your hair getting in the way now, not after you’ve been missing Jack’s cock for a full week.

No, you’re just as drunk as he is, moaning and gagging and humming. You pull out all the stops– leaving his cock to kiss over his balls and suck at the skin while you pump his member. Jack’s always enjoyed that extra touch, his hips jumping uncontrollably into your space for the second time tonight.

“Wanna fuck my face?” You ask, words coming out in a rush.

Jack keens beneath you, holding you closer. He pumps his fingers inside you quickly, working a third into your hole and curling his knuckles until he finds your sweet spot, making you moan wantonly. His hips are moving again, wiggling beneath you until you bring your lips back to his tip. You press a kiss against his slit before opening your mouth as wide as you can, hollowing your cheeks against his shaft until Jack starts to move.

He’s quick like a jack-hammer. His movements are twitchy and shallow because, as you’ve said time and time again, Jack has never been the world’s greatest multitasker. He’s able to perform well on the ice, very athletically minded and capable, but when his mind gets all foggy and sex-crazed, he’s completely helpless.

He chases his pleasure wildly. He continues to make his sweet, pretty whimpers against your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit as fast as he can manage while also fingering you and fucking into your mouth– he’s working overtime and his chest is heaving with harsh breaths. You take it, even rolling your hips against his fingers to try and help him out.

You’d feel bad about making him do all the work, but you’ve known since the beginning of your relationship how Jack feels about making you come: he loves it. It’s better than his own release. He always wants you to come over his tongue or make a mess all over his cock or fingers.

“Baby, baby,” Jack whines against your clit, his lips brushing the nerves as he talks. “Fuck, gonna come, please, please–”

“Uh-huh,” you hum, the best response you can give with your mouth stuffed with his cock. The vibrations send Jack over the edge and he lurches beneath you, pulling his fingers from your hole and replacing them with his tongue. He switches, putting his thumb on your clit and rubbing furious circles until you’re writhing above him.

You’re able to swallow a mouthful of his cum before you have to squeeze your eyes shut and focus on your own orgasm, milliseconds away from breaking down the dam inside of you. You pull off of Jack’s cock and pant above him, continuing to stroke him through his climax.

Your eyes are a little teary from the ecstasy coursing through your veins, fueled completely by Jack’s rapid movements and equally frequent muffled pleas. He can’t stop begging you to release all over his face, even with his tongue inside of you. You can’t focus on what he’s saying, but his voice is wrecked and bordering on distressed. That’s how bad he needs you to come, how badly he needs to make you come.

His jaw has got to be aching by this point, having eaten you out for so long, but you’re so close.

You sit up a bit, just enough that you can place your hands on his muscular thighs and grind back against his face. Your hips are quick, messy, and inconsistent. “Jack,” you cry out, your breath leaving you like a hard fall to the ground knocking all the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, yeah,” he encourages, his tongue flicking over your walls.

You come harder than you ever have like this– maybe harder than you ever have in general. Jack holds you against him and laps at your release, despite the pleasure causing your hips to jerk and try to escape. You lose track of yourself, feeling completely gone. There’s a chance you’ll have to wash the couch cushions later, with the way you’re spreading slick over Jack’s face. It feels endless, your orgasm, and you think Jack may have actually made up for a week of nothing in just one night.

He licks over you until there’s nothing left for him to taste. His hair has gone wild, eyes bright but groggy and hazy at the same time. You’re sure you look the same, unwilling to find yourself in the mirror across the room when you roll off of Jack and find a shaky footing on the floor. Your shirt is damp with sweat, as is Jack’s. He lifts the neckline to wipe the lower half of his face, dazed.

“Fuck,” he sighs, placing a hand over his heart. His eyes look up at you, a slight smile lifting the edges of his lips. “That might be the closest I’ve ever gotten to dying from your pussy, baby.”

You laugh at that, running your fingers through your hair. “I think we both need a shower,” you say with an easy smile.

Jack yawns. “Then bed?” He asks.

“If you don’t fall asleep on me right here,” you reply, nodding at his body as it lounges on the couch. You thought you were bad with going boneless– Jack seems to have sank into the cushions. The sight is hilarious– your boyfriend, completely love drunk and smiling up at you like you’re an angel, with his shirt still on but no pants and no underwear. His dick has softened against his hip, the cum you didn’t swallow drying against his skin. “With your dick out and all. Any burglar would run the other direction.”

“You don’t think he’d be impressed?” Jack sits up just enough to look at his length.

“Maybe not in this state.”

“I’ll just have to explain to him that my girl fucked me so good that I couldn’t move anymore,” Jack ponders with a shrug. He laughs to himself, eyes hooded but blinking slowly at you.

“Well, you did come first,” you agree. You reach out and take his hands, dragging him up to a sitting position, then up to his feet.

Jack stumbles into you, petting over your rat’s-nest of a head of hair and pressing a series of kisses all over your face.

“Gross, gonna have to do extra skincare tonight,” you pout, pushing him away.

Jack continues making kissy noises as you pull him towards your shared bedroom, depositing him in front of the shower so that he can start the water while you grab new clothes for the both of you and go to the bathroom.

He feels you up in the shower until you’re both laughing and covered in suds, unable to keep your lips from the other person’s for longer than a couple of minutes. He makes his hair into a shampooed mohawk just to make you giggle again. His displeasure from earlier in the night is completely gone, and you couldn’t be more glad.

notes: this is one of my favorite fics i've ever written, so i hope y'all enjoyed!!

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jh86 #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

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obsessivevoidkitten · 4 months ago

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The Manticore's Game

Kinktober Day 11: Paralytic Venom

Male Manticore Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, nonconsensual to consensual, venom, paralysis, non-human genitals, manticore, nibbling, licking, playful yandere, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior, he fucking purrs like a big house cat y'all, happy ending, kinda fluffy Word Count: 1k (I wrote this relatively quickly just today. I hope you all love it. Someone wanted me to write happier endings and yeah I do need a few sprinkled in a bit more often.)

There were reports of a mighty beast-like man devouring sheep from the flocks of the shepherds on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was in your jurisdiction, so you sent some lesser warriors to investigate and resolve the matter, but they had retreated in terror and refused to go back.

You were the head of the lesser noble house that oversaw the region and a skilled knight, and none of your subordinates were up to the task of defeating the monstrosity. So it seemed the task fell to you personally.

Bravely, you went on your own to the mountain village and tracked down the monster's lair. You found him at the entrance to his cave. He towered above you, fangs bared. You could see why the others had retreated. He was a rare and powerful creature, a manticore!

The beast had long shaggy hair that started black but ended in red, yellow eyes, fingertips with retractable claws, massive black and red wings, and a large scorpion tail.

Unlike the others, you fought through your fear and charged. You tried bashing him with your shield. But the manticore blocked the blow with his muscular arm before stabbing its tail into a chink in your armor.

You buckled instantly, falling to the ground like a chunk of lead. You couldn't move and were completely helpless as the monstrous man crouched beside you and removed your armor piece by piece. The last one that he removed was your helmet. After he removed it, you could smell the musk practically rolling off his crotch.

He wore no clothing, though he was covered in fur from the waist down. You were sure he was going to kill you, but instead, he stung you a second time, and you woke up hours later beside the village with no weapons or armor.

It was humiliating. Of course, you had to restore your honor. But you also weren't unfair. The next time you faced him, you used a blunted blade. He hadn't killed you, so you wouldn't kill him. Though you would imprison him as a livestock thief and make him work off his debts.

Once again, you ended up on the ground after the first sting. The beast stood over you and laughed before taking your belongings to taunt you. After that came the second sting, which sent you to sleep. Once more, you woke up outside the village.

It went on like this for months. It became the manticore's favorite game and your greatest embarrassment. He must have collected dozens of sets of armor as trophies.

Once more, you tried to best the beast, and once more, you wound up on the floor. This time was different, though. After removing your bothersome armor, he hauled you into a cotton and feather lined nest.

And, for the first time, the manticore spoke.

"Azin is in rut. Need mate. You're Azin's best friend! Always play games! You're all Azin thinks about. Will make the best mate."

He didn't stop at removing your armor. He took away all your clothing and didn't administer the second sting that would put you to sleep.

Azin purred loudly as he nuzzled his head against various parts of your body. He flipped you onto your back and licked and nibbled on your chest. His cock was hard, It stuck out large and proud from his sheath. It was also much muskier than normal, the strong smell alone made your crotch tingle.

You were a little scared but were more embarrassed than anything else. Maybe the venom had mellowed you out a bit, or maybe you just felt that comfortable with Azin after all the non-lethal combat the two of you had engaged in. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have.

His slimy cock craved the warm embrace of your hole, but even in rut Azin had the presence of mind to stretch you out first. Using gobs of precum as lube, he carefully tended to your entrance with several strong fingers.

Once you were good and prepped, he propped your legs up on his shoulders and then slipped his entire length into you with one fluid motion.

"Ahhhh," he sighed, "You take Azin so well~"

And he filled you so well. You would have been moaning, but all the paralytic he had envenomated you with would allow were soft gasps and whimpers. Azin licked and sucked your neck, your cute little sounds of pleasure spurring him on and into a frenzy. He pushed you into a mating press, his large furry nuts smacking into you as he bred you.

Nothing in your life had ever felt so good. No, not just good, but right. Having him pounding into you just felt right. Your paralyzed managed to shake slightly in orgasm just as he emptied his cum deeply into you.

"Azin loves you so so much! Going to breed you lots and keep you safe always!"

The two of you panted a bit before going several more rounds. When it was finally over, the venom had worn off. You cuddled up to him, his loud rhythmic purring helped lull you into the best sleep you ever had.

Of course, when you woke up, you'd have to do the only thing you could... take him back, marry him, and have him live with you in your little castle. There was really no other honorable option.

Azin's kind mated for life. It would be cruel to abandon him, and you had come to see him more and more as a friend rather than an enemy. You couldn't exactly just imprison him and make him work now.

Marrying him was honestly the perfect solution. With him at the castle, he wouldn't be stealing food. And just the fact that your house had a manticore would ensure safety from political rivals. It would be a great way for him to make up for his unlawful consumption of sheep. What assassin would dare trespass into the home of such a beast?

Sure, you'd be known far and wide as the monster fucking noble, but at least the dick was amazing!

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere #My OCs #My OC Azin #Yandere Manticore #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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agaypanic · 4 months ago

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His Good Girl (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader Smut)

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Request Something! | AO3

Kinktober Day 3: Praise Kink

Summary: For your one hundredth wedding anniversary, Carlisle takes you to a cabin in the mountains away from your children and the prying eyes of Forks citizens. The days are beautiful, but the nights are far more pleasurable.

A/N: ignore that im posting day 3 on the 23rd…. Im so behind omfg ANYWAYS i know vampires technically cant get hard or probably cum or wtv bc they don’t have bloodflow but this is a kinktober fic so idgaf. i know a thousand years is in twilight soundtrack, but i like the song and think it fits so pretend it/christina perri exists in this universe. Tbh this feels more like a real fic than a kinktober fic (not saying kinktober fics aren’t real fics. I just feel like kinktober stuff really focuses on the sex/kink and i feel like this is more of a fluff that ends in smut)

C/W: oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (they're vampires so they cant get pregnant or diseases but wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, body worship, rough sex

***

“Carlisle, dear, I can pack my own suitcase.” But you did nothing to stop him from meticulously folding your clothes and putting them in your bag. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him work.

Your husband looked up, a smile appearing on his lips. “And yet, you sit and watch me pack it for you.”

“What can I say?” You said with a shrug. “I like watching your skilled hands be put to work.”

“Oh really?” Carlisle seemed to suddenly forget the task he was previously so focused on. He walked over to you, letting the cold hands you loved so much cup your face gently. “Just wait for this weekend. Then you’ll really see how skillful they are.”

You giggle, pulling at his waist and leaning up to kiss him. “I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t long before you were finished loading up the car and ready to leave. Carlisle had to practically drag you away when your goodbyes with the kids went on a little too long. But you couldn’t help it. Not only did you love your children dearly, but you needed to give them all (mainly Emmett and Edward) to behave while you and Carlisle were gone. Although they were tremendously older than their young adult bodies, they sometimes acted just as recklessly as teenagers.

The drive to the cabin was long and peaceful. Carlisle let you handle the music, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled at the sight of you passionately singing along with every song out of the corner of his eyes.

You arrived in the afternoon, and your husband insisted on carrying your bags inside for you, allowing you to wander around the cabin you came to for special occasions. It followed a less modern aesthetic, mainly because getting a good internet connection so far from civilization was a little difficult. It reminded you of when you were first married to Carlisle.

“Why don’t you pick out a record?” Carlisle said from the bedroom, raising his voice a little so you could hear him down the hall, despite your enhanced hearing.

You walked over to the small shelf that was filled to the brim with different genres and eras of music. You opted for something more modern, so you pulled out a Christina Perri vinyl and put it on the player.

The first track was one that you knew all too well, and it seemed Carlisle remembered it just as well when it hit his ears. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left the bedroom and approached you. When he got close enough to grab you, he started leading you in a slow dance around the living room. And when Christina sang about loving someone for a thousand years, Carlisle kissed you deeply before making a comment about how he couldn’t wait for the thousand-year mark.

***

When your anniversary came the next day, you and Carlisle didn’t do much. Besides being slightly more affectionate than usual and exchanging presents, it seemed like a normal day for you two. But you cherished it like any other day you spent with your husband.

The only time Carlisle strayed from you today was to go outside and hunt for dinner. He came back in record time with two wine glasses filled with red liquid and a few smudges around his mouth that he let you kiss off. Ushering you to the couch in front of the lit fireplace, he handed you a glass and used his now free hand to hold you close to him.

“To you, my dear.” Carlisle toasted, holding his glass up to you.

“And to you, darling.” You added, clinking his cup with your own. “To a hundred years.”

“And a hundred more.”

Hours had passed without you knowing. You were too wrapped up in Carlisle’s presence, the way he stroked your arm while he listened to you talk about whatever came to your mind.

Eventually, your glasses were empty, and Carlisle set them on the small table in front of you before cuddling you again. You leaned into his touch, breathing his scent in. “I love your hands.” You muttered against his neck. The hands in question were either holding yours or gently massaging you.

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled, and you nodded. “You wanna see what else they can do?”

It felt like a switch had flipped, and suddenly, you were straddling your husband and kissing him like you’d been starved for a hundred years. He kissed back with the same sentiment, hands roaming and groping your body.

Carlisle broke away the slightest bit to speak. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Without waiting for a response, he stood up, carrying you down the hall like it was nothing. You clung to him, kissing and lightly nipping at his neck.

When he reached the bedroom, Carlisle softly set you on the bed and started kissing you again. He towered over you, caging you in with his limbs.

But kissing, although very enjoyable, wasn’t enough for him. His hands started to roam again, and he began to play with the hem of your shirt. “May I?” He asked against your lips, and you nodded furiously. Carlisle peeled the shirt off of your body, and your bra was off soon after.

Without warning, he broke away from you. You were about to protest when his mouth latched onto your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You moaned at the sensation, running a hand through his once pristine hair. He made sure to give the same treatment to the other.

“So beautiful.” He muttered, squeezing your tits with his hands and running his cold thumbs over your now stiff nipples. You mewled and arched your back. God, the things this man did to you. “So perfect.”

“Carlisle.” You whined. You couldn’t take anymore waiting, you needed him now. In desperation, you started moving your hips to try and rut against his thigh. He allowed it, giving attention to your breasts a little while longer while you used him to ease your need. But his thigh wasn’t enough. “Carlisle, come on.”

He looked up at you with a caring but mischievous look. “What’s the magic word?”

“Carlisle!”

“Nope.” The man smirked, slowly trailing kisses down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Come on, dear. Where are your manners?”

“Please!” You cried out.

Carlisle swiftly started to unbutton your pants, tugging them down your legs. “There’s my good girl.” The little nickname just made you even wetter. Carlisle took off your panties, leaving you entirely bare for him. He stared down at you, taking in the image. He sighed, seemingly lost in thought. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

Ready to ravage you, Carlisle started to crawl on the bed towards you. But before he could get to the place he wanted most, you put your foot on his chest to stop him. A hand shot up to caress your ankle, and Carlisle started to worry that he was moving too fast for you without realizing it.

“Maybe you should take your clothes off too?” You suggested, giggling at his sigh of relief. Carlisle dropped your foot and stood up again, stripping in front of you. He did so as fast as possible without using superspeed, knowing you were desperate for him but would still enjoy the show.

“Better?”

“Better.”

You sat up, his stiff cock now at your eyeline. You reached out, wanting to grasp it, suck it, whatever he would let you do.

But Carlisle grabbed your wrist. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, tone light enough to indicate that he wasn’t upset or serious.

“I want you to enjoy yourself.” You answer with a shrug. “It’s your anniversary too, you know.”

“You want me to enjoy myself?” He asked, gently pushing you until you were lying on your back. You nodded. “Then be a good girl and spread your legs.”

A tingle went down your spine at the command, and you immediately did as told. Carlisle grasped your ankles to keep your legs separated. He stared at your pussy, mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He inched closer to you, hands running up your legs.

He didn’t waste another second. Carlisle pushed at your thighs to bring them to your chest and dove into your pussy, licking a broad strip through your slit before latching onto your clit. He groaned at the taste of you, sending chilling vibrations through your body. One of his hands splayed out at the back of your knees to keep your legs up, and he used his now free hand to prod at your entrance.

“You’re so wet, honey.” He cooed as he slipped a finger in, soon adding another. Carlisle began fucking you slowly, hooking his fingers on your g-spot and flicking at your clit with his tongue.

“More.” You moaned, squeezing his fingers. “Want your cock, Carlisle.”

Your husband tsked, taking his mouth off of you but continuing his ministrations. “Not til you come on my fingers, Y/n. You know the rules. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be stretched and filled to the brim by your husband’s cock. But it warmed your cold heart that he was still cautious with you.

“Then make me come.” You begged.

Carlisle took it as a personal challenge to make you finish as quickly as possible. He usually liked to take his time with you, but you were desperate. So Carlisle quickened his pace, added a third finger, flicked and sucked at your clit, and soon enough you were falling apart. You stiffened and let out a choked moan as Carlisle helped you ride out your high.

While catching your breath, Carlisle withdrew his fingers from you and cleaned your juices off with his tongue. The sound that came from him was almost animalistic. He looked at you as if you were his prey. “You’re so delicious.” He said, licking the remnants of your cum off of his hand. The way he was looking down on you made you even wetter.

Usually, Carlisle liked to start nice and slow, giving you time to adjust to his size before he began ramming into you. But tonight, he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed himself, swiping the tip of his penis through your slick folds to collect more of your juices before prodding your entrance and bottoming out in one swift motion.

Then he started fucking you.

You were beyond grateful that you were staying in a cabin in the middle of the mountains because if someone were around, they would’ve thought you were being murdered. The headboard banged against the wall with the force Carlisle was using to fuck you. He held onto the backs of your knees, keeping your legs pinned to your chest and giving you shocks of pleasure with every hard thrust.

It was all too much, but in the best way. Carlisle fucking you roughly at an angle that you knew would make it difficult to walk for a while, despite you usually being able to recover from rough sex quickly. With the way Carlisle was acting right now, his panting and almost growling sounds, and his nails digging into your skin, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied after one round.

“So good.” Carlisle groaned, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You pulled at Carlisle’s hair to try and ground yourself, but you were too far gone with the overwhelming pleasure. “Are you gonna come?”

“Uh-huh.” It came out as a high-pitched squeal, and Carlisle smiled.

“You can do it, honey.” While speaking, he snaked a hand down to rub at your clit, pace as rough and furious as his thrusts. “Want you to come. Be a good girl for me; go ahead.”

It was like Carlisle had some kind of control over your body. As soon as the words left his mouth, you found your release. It was one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had. You were a bit surprised that you didn’t accidentally pull out Carlisle’s hair from how hard you were gripping the strands.

Carlisle continued fucking you at his rough pace, making you shake and cry out in pleasure. He didn’t stop, seemingly very focused on now reaching his own peak. The way your cunt gripped his cock certainly helped, and not long after you, he was shooting ropes of cum inside you, keeping up his thrusts to fuck it into you.

When he came down from his high, his movements slowed to a stop. He delicately moved your legs off your chest to lay on the bed, massaging any possible sore spots he may have given you.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, seemingly in a clearer headspace now.

You shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. “I liked it.” Carlisle sighed in relief, leaning down to kiss you. “Maybe we can do it again? Like, now?”

He laughed at your eagerness. “How about in five minutes?” He wrapped you up in his arms before flipping you over so you were lying on his chest. His cock was still hard inside you, filling you nicely. “I want to lay with my wife for a while.”

“I won’t argue with that.” You said, snuggling into Carlisle’s bare chest. “Happy anniversary, Carlisle.”

“Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

***

Twilight Taglist: @wedfan2 @natashamaximoff-69 @pink-hufflepuff

#agaypanic #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader smut #twilight #twilight x reader #praise k!nk #roughfuck #body worship

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yourlocaljonghoe · 3 months ago

Text

(Not) Another Love Song. || Choi Jongho.

Summary: having a crush on your new roommate is already nerve-wracking enough. but then finding out about his secret cover account made everything even worse. you swear you didn't mean to find it. but when his voice is the only thing helping you through sleepless nights, what else can you do?

Pairing: choi jongho x reader

Genre: college au, roomates to lovers, fluff, smut (mdni)

Wordcount: 11.5k

Warnings: mentions of insomnia, big dick!jongho (i mean duh), manhandling, body worship, nipple play, riding, unprotected sex

A/N: hello, i want to sincerely apologize for vanishing for so long and then coming back with this trashy fic🥲 seriously, in my head this was so much better, but the end result... ugh. but it's whatever! i want to thank y'all again for being so patient with me and also for 300 followers!! sooo crazy🥺 also big thanks to @inkedtae for being my beta, you were a big help! & as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!

Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf

Available here on AO3.

“So… I heard someone here got caught in a very awkward situation with their new roommate,” Wooyoung teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he sat down beside you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please, Wooyoung, don’t remind me. It was so fucking humiliating.”

He laughed, clearly having no intention of stopping. “So, what exactly were you even searching for when he walked in? 'How to talk to your insanely pretty and hot roommate for dummies'?”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks burning. God, you wanted to disappear off the fucking earth, anything to make the teasing stop, really. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to him, okay? And it was just a dumb search. I didn’t expect him to walk in and see it. I-i thought he was out and I would have enough time to prepare some things if I wanted to say to him. You know my conversation skills aren't exactly the best…”

Wooyoung chuckled and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Well, you’ve definitely made an impression now. But, hey, maybe it’s a good thing! Now he knows you’re shy, and maybe thinks it's kind of cute.”

You groaned again, sinking even deeper into your chair if that was even possible. “It’s not cute. It’s mortifying. He probably thinks I'm such a loser now-”

“Which you are-”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!”

He leaned in closer to you again, his smirk growing. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to avoid him forever, or are you actually going to talk to him like a normal person?”

You groaned, feeling the heat rise to your face again. “I don't know, okay? I'll figure it out… eventually.”

Wooyoung snorted, clearly not buying it. "Sure, ‘eventually’ meaning ‘never.’ Just admit it - you’re avoiding him because he’s totally your type.”

Before you could muster a response and curse him out again, the door to the boys’ shared apartment swung open, and in walked San, Yeosang, and Yunho, their voices filling the room as they entered. They paused when they noticed you and Wooyoung huddled together, immediately raising their eyebrows.

“What’s going on here?” San asked, a mischievous look in his eyes as he plopped down on the couch beside you.

“Oh, just Y/N getting caught by Choi Jongho - you know, her new roommate - googling ‘how to talk to your roommate 101’,” Wooyoung said, his grin practically splitting his face.

You wanted to personally scratch it off his face.

Yunho’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he burst into laughter. “Girl- No way! You didn’t!”

You buried your face in your hands, wishing the ground would just swallow you up. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?"

Yeosang settled down on the armrest, his expression more curious than teasing. "Why didn’t you just talk to us? We could’ve helped.”

“Yeah,” San added, nudging you playfully. “We’re pros at this stuff. Jongho’s just a guy - granted, a rather intimidating guy, but still.”

“Can't one of you just talk to him?” you whined.

San chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean… we’re not that close to him yet either. He’s still new at the college, and he’s pretty reserved. Besides, he’s your roommate, not ours.”

You sighed. "Great. So, not only am I living with someone who’s way out of my league, but no one’s even close enough to help break the ice."

Yunho nodded sympathetically, but there was still a playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah, sorry, but it looks like you’re on your own for this one. Well, sort of. We can still help you figure out how to approach him though since, no offense, your social skills suck.”

“None taken,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Wooyoung leaned in again, clearly enjoying your discomfort just a bit too much. “You know what would help? Actually spending some time together at your place. You two barely even cross paths. That’s probably why you’re so nervous around him.”

“Yeah,” San chimed in, catching on to Wooyoung’s idea. “You live together, but it’s like you’re living in two separate worlds. If you just hung out at home one night, it could break the tension.”

You frowned, the thought of spending a night alone with Jongho making your stomach do flips. “You all know how awkward I am with people…”

Yunho smiled reassuringly. “It will only be as awkward as you make it. Just think of it as spending time with a friend, not as some big, intimidating thing. You could start with a movie, order takeout, something low-key, you know?”

“You don’t have to force a deep conversation either,” Yeosang added. “Just focus on getting comfortable around each other. Once that happens, the rest will surely follow.”

You bit your lip, considering their advice. It wasn’t like you had much to lose - things were already awkward, and avoiding him clearly wasn’t working. But the idea of initiating something still made you nervous. You were a shy, quiet person, and if the boys hadn't practically adopted you, you probably wouldn't have any friends on campus now.

“Come on, Y/N,” Wooyoung encouraged, seeing your hesitation. “You’re making it a bigger deal than it is. Jongho’s not going to bite. And if things get weird, just laugh it off. He’ll appreciate the effort.”

You sighed, finally relenting as you realised they were right - much to your dismay. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to spend some time with him. But if it gets too awkward, I’m blaming all of you!”

Yunho grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. “Let's wait and see first.”

Wooyoung patted your shoulder, his smirk softening into a more genuine smile. “You’ve got this. And hey, if it turns out he’s as cool as he seems, maybe you’ll end up being great friends - or, you know, more.”

You rolled your eyes at Wooyoung’s last comment but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. By the way, where are the others?”

“Uh, Y/N's getting shy~ Look at her blushing and trying to play it cool!”

“One day, Jung Wooyoung, one fucking day!” you hissed, and if looks could kill, he'd definitely be dead by now.

The others laughed, and Yunho casually threw his arm around you as he sat down, practically shoving poor San out the way.

“But to answer your question: they're grabbing some food. You hungry?” he asked.

“Very”, you answered.

“Great,” he smirked. “Gotta tell the others about the incident with your crush too once they're back.”

“Whatever dude,” you murmured, sighing defeated.

Operation: ‘How To Talk To Your Roommate’ was officially starting.

You paced around the living room, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The food you spent ages on - cooking was never a talent of yours, so it took longer than it should have - was set up on the small dining table, and you’d even gone the extra mile, lighting a few candles to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. You’d picked out an action movie to watch too, something random you found while scrolling through Netflix, hoping that Jongho would be a fan of the genre. He certainly didn't strike you as the romantic type of guy.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and with each passing minute your hands got sweater and your heart beat faster. What if this doesn’t go well? What if he thinks it’s weird? You tried to push the thoughts aside, reminding yourself that Jongho never came across as a rude guy in the few months you've known him. Sure, a bit reserved, but so were you. Just relax. It’s not a date. It’s just two roommates hanging out.

You inhaled deeply, straightening out your shirt for what felt like the thousandth time. You were dressed casually but nicely, a nice shirt and some jeans that went perfectly along together.

The faint sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly tried to compose yourself, running through the plan in your head one more time. Movie, dinner, small talk. Just act natural. Imagine he was one of the guys. Just a super cool, chill evening together.

The door creaked open, and you turned to greet Jongho - only to be met with a sight that made your brain short-circuit.

In your defense: you were on your period. Meaning you were super horny these days. Plus… it was Jongho. Sue you for having functioning eyes.

He stepped in, and the first thing you noticed was how the drops of sweat clung to his skin, making your mouth almost water. He was wearing a black tank top that clung to his frame, showing off his broad shoulders and toned arms. A dark beanie was pulled down over his head to keep his sweat-soaked hair in check. He was panting slightly, the evidence of his workout clear as he dropped his gym bag by the door.

You blinked, trying to force your brain to reboot. This was going horribly wrong.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in the scene - the dim lighting, the candles, the carefully set table. You could see the moment his gaze settled on you, still frozen in place by the door.

“Uh... what's all this?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no coherent words came out. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts all tangled up at the sight of him. All you could focus on was how that damn tank top clung to his chest and the way his arms flexed as he moved. It was enough to make you feel lightheaded, and the fact that you were on your period only doubled every emotion and reaction you felt to an unbearable level.

“I-uh-” you stammered, your cheeks burning as you tried to string together a sentence. "I made dinner... I mean, I tried- I- I mean, it's not a 5 star meal but I'm sure not too bad either… hopefully. W-whatever, it's just food, you know? And I thought we could, um, hang out... since we're, uh, roommates and all... and... uh…”

You could see the confusion on Jongho’s face deepen as you rambled on, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to follow your erratic train of thought. The more you babbled, the worse it got, and you could feel tears out of frustration build behind your eyes, making your stomach churn.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jongho asked, taking a cautious step forward, his voice gentle but tinged with concern.

No. No, you weren’t. And it was your own fault for being so damn anxious over nothing.

You needed to get out of here - away from him, away from this mess of a night. You couldn’t deal with this right now, not with him standing there, looking like every fantasy you’d ever had and more while you were… Well, you.

Shy, awkward, weird you.

“I-I'm fine!” you blurted out, your voice cracking as you backed away toward your room. “I just, uh, forgot something! I’ll be right back! You can eat without me!”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and bolted, practically slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. Once inside, you leaned against the door, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in shaky gasps.

You sat on the floor with your back against the door, trying your best to calm your racing heart. You wanted to scream, cry, or maybe both. All the effort you put into tonight - cooking, setting the table, choosing a movie - it all seemed like such a waste now. How could you face Jongho after what happened? Or rather didn't happen. God, you stood there completely frozen. How embarrassing. And then you couldn't even talk properly.

What a fucking loser you were.

Minutes passed, and yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. You could hear faint sounds from the living room: the clinking of plates, the shuffling of feet, and the occasional low hum of a voice - probably Jongho talking to himself as he ate. The idea of going back out there made your skin crawl, so you decided to stay put. Maybe he would think you fell asleep or were too tired to come back out. Either way, facing him seemed impossible right now.

Your ego was too hurt.

Just as you were trying to finally move away from the door, a faint rustling sound caught your attention. You looked down and saw a small piece of paper being slowly slid under your door. Hesitant, you picked it up, your heart pounding as you unfolded it.

The note was short, written in Jongho’s neat handwriting:

Thanks for the dinner. It was really good. Hope you’re feeling better soon. Get some rest. Goodnight :)

Jongho.

A small smile stole its way on your lips. He wasn’t upset or weirded out by your behaviour. If anything, he just seemed concerned. It made your heart race, but this time, not out of anxiety.

Gathering your courage after another few minutes, you slowly opened your door and peeked out into the living room. The place was quiet, the table cleared, and the lights dimmed. You expected to see Jongho already back in his room, but instead, you found him asleep on the couch.

He looked peaceful, his head resting against the arm of the couch, his breathing slow and even. He must have dozed off after cleaning up. Your heart softened at the sight, guilt creeping in as you realised he had taken the time to clean up everything by himself while you were hiding away in your room.

As you quietly approached the couch, you noticed his laptop open on the coffee table. The screen was still on, casting a soft glow over the room. The faint light outlined his peaceful features as he laid sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

You glanced curiously at the screen, wondering what he was trying to do before he fell asleep.

There were several tabs open - a mix of school assignments and a music playlist paused midway through a song. But one tab in particular caught your eye: a YouTube account page.

Oh. Oh.

His YouTube account to be exact.

You stood there for a moment, your eyes fixed on the open YouTube tab on Jongho's laptop. The username ‘im_finale’ was displayed in the corner, and you could see a list of song covers he'd uploaded, each one with quite a handful of views. You’d heard him singing before - just snippets of some melodies as he cleaned or studied - but you never would've thought he was actively posting covers online. It was surprising, considering how reserved and private he generally was. But at the same time, it also wasn't.

After all, he studied music just like you.

Curiosity got the better of you and after a brief moment of hesitation, you tiptoed back to your room, closing the door gently behind you. Once inside, you sat on your bed and pulled out your phone. You typed “im_finale” into the YouTube search bar and, sure enough, his channel immediately popped up. The profile picture was simple - a black-and-white image of a piano key, fitting for the kind of channel he had.

You slowly scrolled through the videos. There were a few classic ballads, some more modern pop songs, and even a couple of R&B tracks. Without thinking too much about it, you grabbed your airpots and then clicked on the most recent upload.

The melody of Through The Night by IU started playing, and there was a brief pause before Jongho’s voice joined in, soft and angelic.

You leaned back against your pillows, closing your eyes as you let the music fully take you in. It was incredible - better than you could ever have imagined, to be honest. A shiver ran down your spine as the soft falsetto hit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. This is amazing, you thought. His voice had a way of drawing you completely in, of making you forget the whole world around you.

It was just you, him and the melody in the background.

When the song ended, you opened your eyes and realized you’d been holding your breath the entire time. The room was quiet again, and you immediately started missing his voice in your ears. You didn’t want the moment to end, so you clicked on another video, and then another.

You spent the next hour or so listening to more of his covers, and before you knew it, your eyes had fallen shut, and your breathing slowed down.

Jongho’s voice was the only thing your mind still registered. It carried you off into sleep, and there, in your dreams, you were no longer listening to his voice through headphones. Instead, he was right beside you, laying in the quiet of your room, softly singing just for you.

Each word he sang seemed meant for your ears alone, and the warmth of his presence made your heart flutter. In that dream, there was nothing bad, nothing to keep your mind in a frenzy - just the two of you, side by side, his beautiful voice wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

For that brief moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you, him, and the music.

You didn’t know when you drifted off completely, but as you slowly succumbed to your tiredness, his voice still lingered in your mind, keeping you company through the night.

“And that's it for today. Remember: all of today's topics are very important for the next exam!”

You blinked, slowly waking up from your slumber as the lecture hall buzzed with the noise of students packing up their things. Your head was still groggy, the weight of the all-nighter you’d pulled for an assignment last night catching up to you during the lecture. You were vaguely aware that the professor had been going on and on about some theory or another, but you didn't actually remember a single word. Instead, you'd spent the entire class lost in a dreamlike state, all you could really focus on was Jongho’s voice playing over and over again in your earphones.

It has been a week now since you discovered his secret account, and in that time alone, you spent countless hours listening to his covers over and over again.

As you sat there, still blinking sleep from your eyes, you felt a presence settle beside you, and without thinking, you mindlessly muttered, “Jongho?”

“Yeah, it's me. You okay?”

You jolted upright, startled at the sound of his voice - not through your earbuds this time, but right beside you. You pulled your airpods out and turned your head, half-expecting to still be dreaming, but there he was, standing right next to you with a slightly concerned look in his eyes.

“Oh my god, you're real,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You cringed at your own words, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson red. “I mean - uh, hi.”

Jongho's brow furrowed, though there was a small hint of amusement in his expression. “You were completely out for the entire lecture,” he said, his tone soft but teasing. “I was sitting a few rows back, and I saw you… just knocked out. I figured I'd come check on you.”

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remaining drowsiness. “I was up all night working on an assignment and then… I guess I just passed out.”

Jongho gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I could tell. You looked like you were having a good nap though,” he teased gently. “I was thinking… if you want, I could send you my notes from the lecture. I know you missed most of it.”

Your eyes widened at his offer, your heart skipping a beat. “R-really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he shrugged, “I mean, we’re roommates. Might as well help each other out, right?”

You felt a wave of warmth flood your chest, and a big smile stole its way on your lips. You’d been so nervous about him this whole time, but here he was, offering to help you like it was nothing. He wasn't a big, intimidating guy some people made him out to be. He was kind. And cute. So, so cute. “Thanks, Jongho. I’d really appreciate that.”

“No problem,” he replied easily, waiting for you to gather your things. “I can send them over later tonight, or... well, if you want, we can go over them together now?”

Were you imagining things or was Choi Jongho actually getting red in the face right now?

You blinked, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest altogether. “Oh! Uh, yeah, that’d be great. I mean, if you have time? Like- no pressure, dude.”

He snorted, quickly hiding his laugh behind his hand. You blushed again. “I’ve got time right now. Let’s head to the café right outside the campus or something.”

You couldn’t help the little smile that spread across your face. This was your chance to actually spend some time with him, and your nerves were already buzzing with anticipation. You felt like the happiest woman in the world right now.

“That sounds perfect.”

As the two of you left the lecture hall, you found yourself slowly relaxing. Jongho was easy to talk to, much more than you’d expected. Sure, he was still a little reserved, but he had a dry sense of humour and was actually quite the goofball, making you laugh and smile so hard it almost hurt.

But just as you were walking through the campus toward the café, you heard a familiar voice call out, “Y/N!”

You turned around to see Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang walking towards you, their faces lighting up when they spotted you and Jongho together. You spotted Wooyoung's grin miles away already, and you knew you were in for his usual teasing.

You froze next to Jongho, and he sent a questioning look towards you.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here,” Wooyoung smirked, stopping in front of you two. “Didn’t we have plans today, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, and a long forgotten thought popped up again. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We were supposed to meet up at the restaurant, weren’t we?”

San crossed his arms, trying to look serious but failing to hide the playful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, the others are already waiting there. It's your turn today, but you probably forgot that too, right?”

“…And what if I did?” you mumbled quietly, shying away from their gazes. Truth be told, the last few days have been pretty hectic for you. Getting your assignment done and dealing with your insomnia (again) had taken up pretty much all your time, and the only thing making your day brighter has been Jongho.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

Jongho glanced between you and your friends. He shifted his weight slightly, his brow furrowed in mild concern. “Uh, do you want to go with them then? I mean, if you forgot… I don’t want to make things awkward,” he said, trying to gauge the situation.

“What? No, it’ll be fine, you can come with us if you want,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I mean, it’s just dinner with friends. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Jongho hesitated, looking at you and then back at your friends. “I don’t want to intrude or anything,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t really know you guys that well.”

San stepped forward, his smile wide and welcoming. “You’re not intruding! We’d love to have you. Besides, Y/N talks about you all the time, it's time for us to finally get to know you for real.”

Your cheeks flushed at that, and you could feel the heat rising. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” you mumbled, shooting Jongho an apologetic look.

“See? You’re already family now,” Wooyoung teased, throwing an arm around Jongho’s shoulders. Jongho stiffened slightly, clearly not used to the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Alright, let’s get going then,” you said, trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness. “I really don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

Together you started walking to your favourite Korean restaurant, just five minutes from your campus. Wooyoung and San kept talking and laughing together, with Yeosang throwing in a comment here and there, while Jongho walked beside you, a bit quieter but smiling at the playful exchange nonetheless.

When you finally arrived, the familiar scent of fried rice and kimchi welcomed you. The restaurant was completely full as always, and you spotted Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi at your usual table, all of them already deep in conversation.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!” Yunho called out, waving you over. His grin was infectious, and you felt your mood lift even more at the sight of your favourite people.

“Sorry! I lost track of time,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you approached the table. “But I brought my roommate along! Everyone, meet Jongho!”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho!” Mingi said, extending his hand for a shake. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jongho looked a bit surprised but shook Mingi’s hand with a shy smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Is she loud? Messy? Annoying? You two also study music together, right? How is she in class?"

“Okay mom, let Jongho sit down first,” you laughed, guiding Jongho to the seat right next to you.

Jongho chuckled softly at your comment, and slowly took the seat beside you, though you could still sense a bit of his initial hesitation in his movement. It was probably overwhelming to be surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces all at once. You glanced over at him and shot a reassuring smile. He returned it, his expression softening a little.

Seonghwa leaned in with a playful smile. “So, Jongho, how is our Y/N as a roommate? Don’t think you’re getting away without answering that one!”

Jongho glanced at you, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Honestly, we don’t get to see each other much because our schedules don't quite align. But I can say she’s definitely better than my last roommate. A lot quieter, too.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Quieter? Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one who constantly talks and talks and-”

“Enough, Choi San!”

Jongho giggled. Oh god, that gummy smile and the sound of his slight laughter would be the absolute death of you. “Compared to my last roommate, yes. Trust me.”

You grinned, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. “You’re making me sound boring.”

“Nah,” Jongho replied, shaking his head. “You’re definitely not boring. Just… respectful. Which I appreciate.”

There was a warm look in his eyes, and you felt your heart skip a beat. But before you could dwell on it, Wooyoung cut in, “So, what’s she like in class? Is she as much of a goody two-shoes as she pretends to be?”

You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to pass, okay? Not my fault your grades suck-”

“-my grades are just fine, thank you very much,” Wooyoung grumbled.

Jongho smiled, his gaze flickering to you. “She’s a good student. Serious when it counts, but still knows how to have fun.”

“Wow, I almost believed that,” Yeosang joked, earning a round of laughter.

“What is it with all of you today…”, you mumbled, sighing at their teasing. Hongjoong shot you an apologetic look from the other side of the table.

San raised a shot glass and grinned. “Alright, enough of that. It’s game time. How about Truth or Dare?”

Yunho quickly grabbed the bottle of soju from the table you ordered earlier. “Oh, yes. Truth or Dare, with a twist.” He wiggled the bottle in his hand. “A shot if you don’t answer or refuse a dare.”

Everyone cheered as the game began, with the bottle passed around and the first few rounds filled with harmless dares and easy truths. As the soju loosened everyone’s nerves, the questions became bolder, and the laughter grew louder.

Mingi got asked who from your friends he'd consider for a potential threesome, and with red cheeks the gentle giant mumbled Yunho and that girl in his class he'd been interested in for awhile now, before quickly downing a shot and avoiding everyone's eyes.

Eventually, it was your turn. “Truth or Dare, Y/N?” Yunho asked, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Truth,” you said, knowing you weren’t in the mood for a dare just yet.

“Describe your ideal type,” Yunho said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts racing as you tried to keep your cool. “Well…” you began, looking down at your hands. “I guess I like someone who’s not too loud-”

“-that feels oddly targeted,” Wooyoung mumbled, but you deliberately ignored him.

“And who can be very playful but also serious when it matters. Someone who's kind and has a good sense of humour, even if it's a little dry at times.” You glanced quickly at Jongho before looking away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Someone who’s hardworking and determined, who takes what they do seriously. Oh, and physically…” you trailed off, your cheeks warming as a picture quickly came to your mind. “I guess I’m into someone with a strong build… someone who’s tall but not too tall, maybe with broad shoulders. And, um… nice eyes.”

“Nice eyes?” San echoed, grinning as he raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

“Okay, that's enough!” you laughed, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. “You got your answer. I exposed myself enough.”

But, as always, Wooyoung wasn’t letting you off that easily. “Hmm, strong build, nice eyes… sounds like someone at this table fits that description,” he teased, nudging Jongho with his elbow.

Jongho’s ears turned pink, but he quickly composed himself, at least from the outside. “I didn’t realize this was now a matchmaking session,” he said with a soft laugh.

You quickly reached for a shot and downed it, trying to shift the attention away from you and the poor man next to you. “Alright, who’s next?” you said, waving your hand.

“Yeosang, c’mon!” Wooyoung and San shoved the poor man, and all of you laughed as you watched the chaos unfold.

“You're an idiot!” you whined for the fifth time in a row as Jongho carefully guided your wobbling figure along the sidewalk. Jongho’s hand remained steady on your arm, keeping you upright as the cool night air brushed against your flushed cheeks.

“I'm the idiot?” he chuckled, “unbelievable. As far as I know, I'm not the one who forgot their wallet for the dinner they were supposed to pay for.”

You huffed, your pout deepening as you glanced up at him. “It’s not my fault!” you protested. “I had every intention of treating everyone, and then - poof! My wallet decided to disappear. It’s probably off somewhere having the time of its life without me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jongho replied, his lips curling into that teasing smile you were starting to become very familiar with. “Sure, blame the wallet. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you were rushing out the door half-awake this morning and even forgot you had dinner plans with your friends in the first place.”

“Okay, I’ll admit I was a bit of a mess,” you conceded, shooting him a sheepish look. “But still! You didn’t have to pay for everything, you know. I feel bad about it. It was supposed to be my treat, not yours.”

He shrugged, his grip on your arm gentle but firm as he guided you over a small bump in the sidewalk. “I told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “I’m happy to cover it. Besides, I’d rather do that than have you stress out over it in front of the poor barista.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the fondness in your gaze betrayed your attempt at being stern with him. “But that’s not fair! Now I owe you, and I don’t like owing people.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You can’t just accept a little kindness from your roommate?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “It’s not that I can’t accept kindness,” you murmured, your voice softening. “It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

He shook his head, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. “Trust me, I don’t think that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to.”

“But you paid for eight people you basically didn't know!” you whined.

“Seven,” he said.

“Huh?”

He looked you right in the eye. “I only paid for seven. After all, I know you, Y/N. Perhaps even better than you think.”

You opened your mouth to argue further, but the alcohol in your mind made it difficult for you to come up with any smart remarks.

“Okay,” you said at last, giving in with a reluctant sigh. “But I’m still cooking dinner for the next two weeks. No excuses!”

“Deal,” Jongho replied easily, flashing you that signature gummy smile you so adored. “Do I have to be scared though? You know, because….”

“I had an accident in our kitchen once, Jongho! Once!”

“Yeah, and what if you accidentally kill us with your next accident?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder as he laughed loudly beside you. “Ha ha, very funny,” you muttered, but the smile on your face was impossible to hide.

This has been all you wanted.

Talking, laughing, just being with him.

“You’re still awake?” Jongho's voice broke the silence as he walked through the door, his brows rising when he saw you lying on the couch.

“Yeah,” you sighed, keeping your gaze on the TV. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Jongho dropped his keys onto the table and made his way over to you, sitting down at the edge of the couch. “Another rough night?”

You nodded. After a few weeks, the two of you had finally gotten closer, even going as far as sharing a few personal struggles with one another here and there. And when you opened up about your constant struggle with insomnia, Jongho showed you nothing but sympathy and support.

Now, there are little to no secrets between the two of you.

Well… except one.

“Guess my brain didn't get the memo. Again.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning your tired face. “You should’ve called. I would’ve come back sooner.”

You shook your head. “You were out with your friends. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

“It wouldn’t have,” he said, his tone soft but firm as he settled in next to you. “Let’s see if I can help.”

Jongho's eyes wandered to the empty spot on the coffee table where your earphones usually sat. "Where are?...”

“My earphones?” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “You always have them, especially when you can’t sleep.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Oh, right. Funny story,” you said, a wry smile spreading across your lips. “I kind of… broke them today.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“No swearing, Mr. Choi! A dollar into the swear jar!”

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled, and you just watched him with a big grin on your face as he trotted to a small table across the room and reached into his pockets for some money.

“Anyways,” you began, “I was trying to untangle the cord, but it just had this goddamn impossible knot. So I thought, ‘I’ll just give it a little yank to loosen it up.’” You gestured with your hands to show how exactly you’d pulled on the cord. “Except… it wasn’t a little yank. I guess I don’t know my own strength, because the whole thing literally snapped right in half.”

Jongho let out an adorable giggle as he dropped a dollar into the swear jar, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seems like we're spending too much time together,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “First, you're breaking stuff with your bare hands, and next thing you know, you'll be lifting weights in the gym like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Oh, please. I think I’ll leave the muscle-building to you, Mr. Choi. I don't think I could even surpass Wooyoung.”

“Well, good thing I’m here to help you out if you ever have to fight him.” He paused, briefly glancing toward the hallway. But about your earphones, I think I actually have a spare pair in my room somewhere. Want me to go grab them for you?”

Your eyes widened a little. “You sure? I don’t want to take your extra pair.”

Jongho waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I don’t use them much anyway,” he said, already rising from the couch before you could stop him. “Besides, I’d rather you have something to help you sleep.” He threw you a reassuring look as he headed down the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

You smiled fondly, letting out a heartfelt sound.

What a helpless fool you were.

And it didn't even face you anymore.

You heard some rummaging sounds and then, as quickly as he left, Jongho returned, holding a pair of earphones in his right hand.

“Found them,” he said, dropping them into your lap with a smile. “They might not be as good as your old ones, but they should do the trick.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you stared down at the earphones in your lap. “Thanks, Jongho. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he said, sitting back down beside you. “So, what have you been listening to lately? Anything good?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his question. Oh no. There it was. The one question you’d been dreading for weeks. Because how on earth were you supposed to casually admit that you’d been listening to his covers on loop every night to fall asleep? How could you even begin to explain that hearing his voice was the only thing that seemed to quiet your restless mind? That every time you saw him, all you could think about was his heavenly voice?

You blinked a few times, scrambling for a response. “Oh, um… you know. Just... nature sounds.”

“Nature sounds?” Jongho raised an eyebrow, trying hard not to let out a sound of disbelief, but his lips slowly turning into a grin betrayed him. “What, like rain and thunderstorms?”

“What? No- I mean yeah, exactly!” You latched onto the excuse, nodding quickly. “The sound of rain hitting the window, thunder rumbling in the distance... It’s, um, super relaxing. You should try it out too!”

Jongho let out a chuckle. “You’re telling me that after all the music recommendations I’ve given you, you’re still just listening to… the weather?”

You squirmed under his amused gaze, feeling like you were digging yourself deeper into a hole you no longer could escape. “I mean, who doesn’t love a good rainstorm? It’s... very atmospheric.”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “You’re not secretly listening to those white noise apps, are you? The ones with whale sounds and stuff?”

You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up even more. “Okay, fine, you caught me. It’s... whale noises. That’s my secret. I’m a whale sound enthusiast. Go whales… or something like that.”

Jongho’s laughter filled the room, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back on the couch. “Oh my god, I did not see that coming. When you talk with our fellow students about music you always have such an exquisite taste.”

“Don’t judge me!” you whined, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Whale songs are actually very calming, okay? Very... melodic.”

“I’m not judging,” he said, but his smirk told another story, “Just... surprised, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, quickly hiding under the covers and putting your newly gifted earphones in your ear.

For a while, nothing but silence lingered between you two.

And while you were finally close to him, not just physically, something dimmed the sheer happiness you should be feeling right now. After weeks of wanting this - an evening alone, just the two of you, with no distractions - here he finally was, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His relaxed smile and the easy way he stretched out on the couch, clearly comfortable around you, made you weak in the knees. You wanted to keep talking, keep him here just a little longer. But another, more pressing urge that you could no longer suppress tugged at you too: the desperate need for sleep.

Again, you glanced down at the earphones he’d handed you, feeling your face heat up at the thought. You knew they’d bring you some relief, and, well… they’d help you finally drift off. But the problem was, you didn’t want him to know just what you’d be listening to. Jongho had given you endless music recommendations over the past few months, and each time, you’d nodded along and pretended to take notes. Yet every night, without fail, you’d go back to his voice - the gentle, captivating sound of his covers that somehow eased every last worry from your mind.

But listening to them now, with him here, just felt… impossible. What if he caught on? Or worse, what if he asked what you were listening to again? You’d already given him the whale-song excuse, and he seemed to find it hilarious. But if he pressed further, if he somehow guessed the truth, you didn’t know how you’d face him.

Would he find it… weird? Perhaps even creepy how obsessed you were with him?

You took a deep breath before turning your gaze back to him. Jongho glanced at you, a playful smile still lingering on his lips as he reclined back against the couch.

“Honestly,” he said, “it’s good to finally just sit and do nothing for once. Feels like it's been ages since we could hang out without something due the next day.”

You let out a sigh of relief, nodding along. “Yeah, really… It’s kind of like I’ve forgotten what ‘free time’ is supposed to feel like.”

He leaned his head back, stretching his arms out with a relaxed sigh. His shirt rose up a little, exposing just the tiniest amount of skin, and you almost went feral.

Almost.

Thank god you had a good poker face.

“Well, now that we’re free… I hope you’ll be up for some movie nights or coffee runs together. You know, normal human activities,” he said with a slight grin. “We might finally have time for them now.”

You bit your lip, trying not to appear too eager. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

“...Maybe we could even plan a trip somewhere fun. Like a quick weekend thing—hey, are you falling asleep on me?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed your head beginning to droop.

You blinked, trying to fight it off, but the weariness was impossible to ignore. “N-no, I’m still here,” you mumbled, barely coherent.

“Tell me something,” he suddenly said.

“Hm? Like… a sudden deep talk?”

He shook his head. “No, something funny. Something you've never told anyone before.”

You blinked, still caught in that dreamy, half-asleep haze, but his question pulled you back a bit, sparking a soft laugh. “Something I’ve never told anyone?” you murmured, glancing up at him, your mind trying to pull together something coherent.

He nodded, giving you an expectant look, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Alright,” you said, after pulling something out of your memories. “So, you know the song Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur?”

He raised an eyebrow, chuckling as he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat, fighting off the urge to blush. “There was a point where I listened to it… let’s just say, an embarrassingly high number of minutes. Like… 4,400 minutes. Just that song. On repeat.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at you in disbelief. “4,400 minutes?!” He laughed, shaking his head. “Are you serious? You listened to the same song for what… almost three days?”

“Don’t do the math!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as he laughed even harder, his whole body practically shaking. “It’s not like it was all at once! It was spread out over months… I think.”

He grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you that. But I have to know - why that song? What’s the obsession?”

You hesitated, looking away, unsure if you could say it outright. Because it made me think of you, you wanted to admit. But there was no way you could say that.

Because… wasn't it still too early?

Though you knew - or well, hoped - that there was something, anything, between you, it all felt too fast.

But maybe even that was just your insecurities speaking again.

“It… just helped me feel calm,” you finally said, settling on something true yet safe. “Like, I could close my eyes and forget everything for a few minutes. It felt… peaceful, I guess. I really needed this at that time.”

Jongho’s expression softened immediately “I get it,” he murmured. “Music can do that. It’s like… sometimes, you just need a sound that's just for you.” He glanced at you, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad this was your song.”

“My song…,” you mumbled.

His words made your heart flutter, but your tired mind could no longer keep up. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and you could barely keep yourself upright. You didn’t even realize you’d started to lean on him until you felt his shoulder beneath your cheek.

“You really are falling asleep on me, aren’t you?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You grumbled something unintelligible, too far gone to form words. But as you drifted off, you felt his arm settle around you, warm and steady just like his whole persona, holding you close. The last thing you heard was his soft chuckle and a quiet, barely-there murmur that made your heart race, even in sleep.

“May you dream of the happiest melody, Y/N.”

And you did. Along with his beautiful, beautiful voice.

“Damn, it’s quiet in here today,” you mumbled, glancing around the mostly empty restaurant as you slid into the booth across from Wooyoung, San, and Yunho.

“Probably because everyone else is buried in textbooks,” Yunho said with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. “These exams are no joke.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes dramatically. “Speak for yourself. I’m practically living at the library these days. I didn’t sign up for this level of suffering.”

San nodded, looking equally exhausted. “Same here. Every time I close my eyes, I just see formulas. It’s like they’re burned into my brain. At times I feel like I can even smell them.”

“-How the fuck do formulas smell man?!”

You chuckled, trying not to let the mention of exams raise your own stress levels again. Life was horrible, really. After just finishing a big assignment you only got such little free time with Jongho before being thrown into the next stressful time period. “Don’t worry, guys. Spring break is just around the corner. We just have to survive a little longer.”

Wooyoung smirked, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but by the way, I don’t see you here with Jongho today. What happened? Couldn’t convince your pookie bear to take a break with you?”

You felt your cheeks flush as they all stared at you shamelessly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “He’s just busy with his study group, that’s all. Unlike you guys, he actually does something for his grades without complaining every five minutes.”

Yunho snickered. “Well, then he’s missing out. At least we make it fun.”

San grinned. “Honestly, though, you two do seem to be spending a lot of time together lately. Practically glued at the hip. When are you finally going to confess?”

Your face heated up instantly, and you felt your mouth go dry at San’s question. “W-What? Confess? What are you talking about?” You tried to laugh it off, waving your hand dismissively, but the guys weren’t buying it.

Wooyoung gasped, leaning in closer with a smirk. “Oh my god, you haven’t told him, have you? You’re seriously killing me here! It’s so obvious to everyone else I'm wondering how he hasn't realized it himself yet.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks reddening immediately betrayed you. “It’s not like that, okay? Jongho and I are just...we’re just friends who happen to enjoy spending time together. That’s all.”

Yunho scoffed playfully. “Yeah, right. Just friends. You realize that whenever he’s around, you can’t take your eyes off him, right? You’re not exactly subtle.”

San nudged Wooyoung beside him with his elbow, grinning. “And Jongho? He lights up every time you’re nearby. I've never seen him smile like that!”

“Well maybe that's because you don't know him that well-”

“-Y/N!”

You buried your face in your hands, feeling equal parts embarrassment and frustration. “Can we please not talk about this right now? Seriously, I came here to relax, not to get grilled on my nonexistent love life.”

Wooyoung chuckled, patting your hand reassuringly. Though you sensed he had a lot more to say, he seemed to take mercy on you. “Alright, alright, we’ll stop - for now. But mark my words, if you don’t make a move soon, we’re staging an intervention. It's slowly driving me insane.”

“Alright, so spring break - any plans?” you asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from any more embarrassing teasing.

Yunho perked up immediately. “Yes! Beach trip. I’m craving some sun and waves, honestly.”

“Count me in,” San said, leaning back with a grin. “But none of that hiking or early morning stuff. Or the others will surely complain again.”

They all laughed, nodding in agreement, and the conversation drifted into a comfortable, lighthearted debate over the best spots to visit and various activities to squeeze in. But as they threw out endless ideas, you couldn’t help but think about Jongho, wishing he could join you guys for spring break. The thought of him laughing and unwinding together with the group you deemed family, tugged at your heart. But you weren’t sure if he’d be up for it.

There was a good chance he’d already have plans with his family or his own circle of friends. You weren’t sure he’d be into the idea of tagging along with your friends. After all, he might still choose a quiet week with his family.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd gone quiet until Yunho carefully nudged you. "Earth to Y/N? Thinking about someone in particular you’d like to invite?" His eyes sparkled with that all-too-familiar mischief.

You felt your face heat up again. "W-What? No, I was just thinking it'd be nice to get everyone together, you know? All of us, no stress...and, well, maybe if I were to ask Jongho, it'd be good to have a plan.”

Wooyoung threw his head back in exasperation. "Ugh, I swear if you don’t invite him, we’re doing it for you."

“Fine, fine,” you said, chuckling. “If we can all figure out what we’re doing, maybe I’ll bring it up to him. No promises, though.”

San smirked. “That's all we needed to hear. We'll take care of the rest.”

Just as you all finally settled into comfortable silence, the server arrived with your food, and everyone’s attention quickly turned to the plates being set down. It was exactly what you all needed: comforting, warm, and ever so tasty. For the first few minutes, the only sounds were forks and spoons clinking against plates and contented sighs as each of you dug in.

“Damn, this place always hits the spot,” San mumbled through a mouthful, already reaching for another helping. You just laughed as all of them devoured their plates like animals. “I swear, it’s the only good thing that’s happened all week.”

Yunho nodded, still chewing. “Honestly, if we just survive this semester, we should come back and order everything on the menu to celebrate.”

You agreed, mumbling something no one could understand as you immediately took another bite. The food was too good, and, for a while, everyone focused on just enjoying their meals. Conversations drifted between lighthearted topics - TV shows everyone was watching, the latest music releases, funny memes on TikTok - until finally, you all started to slow down, plates empty and stomachs full.

Leaning back, you stretched a little, rubbing your belly satisfied. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we head out. I’ll meet you guys outside?”

The guys nodded, already beginning to gather their things after paying for the meal. As you slid out of the booth and walked away, you heard Wooyoung’s voice echo teasingly, “Don’t take too long, Y/N! I still want to go and check out that new store at the end of the street!”

You just shook your head, smiling to yourself as you headed down the hall. By the time you returned to the entrance, they were all waiting, bundled up and leaning casually against the doorway.

As you stepped out of the restaurant, you took out your phone, scrolling absentmindedly to catch up on a few missed notifications. A few messages from your friends, Amazon telling you one of the items you want was on sale and so on. The guys were walking just ahead of you, laughing about something Wooyoung had said, and for a moment, you fell behind, trying to type while still watching the road ahead of you.

But then something made you stop short, your thumb frozen mid-swipe.

Right there, on Jongho’s cover account, was a new post - one you weren’t expecting. The title stopped your heart: “Falling Like the Stars.”

You paused, thumb hovering over the screen as your heart thundered in your chest. Jongho had posted this song - your song. The one you’d told him about so excitedly, just a few nights ago, when he asked you about something you never told anyone before. You could practically hear your own words echoing back at you: “It… just helped me feel calm.”

He’d listened. Jongho had actually listened - and not only remembered but went so far as to cover the song himself.

The others had started walking ahead, their voices mingling with the busy sounds of everyday life around you as they headed toward the shop Wooyoung wanted to visit. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the screen, where Jongho’s cover account stared back at you.

And at that very moment, you knew.

You knew that he knew.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, the boys having stopped in their tracks and looking at you with confusion written all over their faces.

“I- yeah. I’m… I’m fine, I just…” Words failed you as you looked at each of their faces, one by one, not knowing how to act, what to say, what to do.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, barely piecing together a coherent thought as your mind raced. “I’m sorry, guys. I just- there’s something I have to do. Right now. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” The words tumbled out, rushed and a little breathless, as if you didn’t say them now, you’d lose the nerve.

And you felt like you really might.

“Look,” you said, “I just… I need to go. I’ll text you later!”

Without waiting, you turned on your heel, your legs already moving before you’d fully registered what the fuck you were doing.

You barely noticed the familiar streets flying by as you sprinted the few blocks to your shared flat with Jongho. Heart pounding, half from the run and half from the thrill of what lay ahead, you finally rounded the last corner and saw the front of the building come into view.

By the time you reached your door, you were completely out of breath but determined, fumbling with your keys until the lock finally clicked. You pushed the door open, chest heaving, and there he was - sitting at the small dining table, headphones on, leaning over a notebook. He looked up, startled at the sound of the door, eyes widening as he saw you standing there, still desperately catching your breath.

“Y/N?” He pulled his headphones down, brow furrowed. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“S-since when did you know, Choi Jongho?!”

For a second, he remained completely silent. Even his body stopped moving, and he just… looked at you.

And you looked at him.

It was as if time was frozen still.

He slowly shifted in his chair, setting the headphones aside as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table.

“It was… when you fell asleep on me,” he began, his voice steady despite the tension hanging in the air. “I carried you to your room, and when I was putting you down, I saw my account open on your laptop.”

His gaze held yours, a flicker of something sincere reflecting in his eyes. “That’s when I knew. And that’s when I decided to post that cover.”

“I-” You suddenly felt the urgent need to defend yourself. And so, with cheeks as red as your favourite type of flowers, you hastily said: “Please don't think I'm obsessed with you or something! I-i seriously didn't know for a long while and- God, this is so awkward- a-and I didn't even mean to find it! If you think I stalked you, I can assure you I really-”

“Y/N-”

“No Jongho, seriously let me explai-”

Before you could even realize what happened, Jongho had already closed the distance between you and was now standing in front of you, tall and strong and commanding, with a look in his eyes that made your heart skip and your knees weak. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and then, without a warning, his lips were one yours, and you were melting away in his arms.

Your mouth willingly opened to his, and your tongues met for the briefest instance before he pulled away, panting and looking at you like a meal he wanted to devour.

“I like you, Y/N,” he said, voice husky and filled with a primal need that mirrored your own. “And I'm honored you like my covers this much. Seriously, I- how could you ever think I'd be creeped out? You've done nothing wrong, silly woman.”

He chuckled, and it made all the tension in your body disappear, and you couldn't help but to hide your face behind your hands and laugh along with him.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. You melted against him, his strong body completely enveloping you. You inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent of him wash over you - something musky yet sweet, with a hint of laundry detergent.

He laid his head atop yours, his hands slowly finding a protective place on your hips. You both stood in silence for a moment, the world outside completely fading away. You could hear the soft thud of his heart, steady and reassuring, syncing with your own rapid beats.

“Y/N…” he murmured softly, breaking the peaceful silence after a while. “You know… I actually wanted to quit that account for a while now.” The sudden shift in his tone caught your attention, and you looked up, surprised.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so talented. You shouldn’t give up on something you love.”

He sighed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression serious. “It just… it felt like no one cared. I was starting to think that maybe my covers weren’t good enough. But then I found out you listened to it, and… and it made me realize that maybe not a lot of people might listen, but at least you are.”

Your fingers gently cradled Jongho's face, your thumbs brushing along his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You couldn't help but smile at him, your heart swelling with affection. “You have no idea how much I love your voice,” you said softly. “It’s the only thing that helps me fall asleep at night. I’d listen to your covers over and over again, and they’d calm my racing thoughts. I- I fell for you even before we became roommates, you know? I saw you on campus with your friends, in class and… I… it hit me so fast and hard. And then we became roommates, and then-”

“Psst,” he laid a finger over your lips, and you looked up at him, confused, “You talk too much, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and husky. “When we could be doing this instead.” With that, he moved his hand, sliding it down the curve of your back, making you arch into his touch involuntarily.

In one swift motion, Jongho lifted you off your feet, his strong arms wrapping around you like a steel cage. You let out a startled laugh, quickly turning into a moan as you felt his hard body pressed against yours. Instinctively, you locked your legs around his waist, your arms snaking around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

His lips crashed down on yours, hungry and demanding. Jongho devoured your mouth, his tongue sweeping inside, tangling with yours in a heated dance. You could taste the hint of mint from his toothpaste, mixed with the unique flavor that was purely Jongho. It was a taste you craved for months now, and you eagerly responded, matching his hunger.

Pulling back slightly, he teased your lips, nibbling gently on your top lip before sucking it into his warm mouth. You whimpered, feeling the sensitivity of your lips as he lavished attention on them. His tongue traced the outline of it, making you shiver as he repeated the action on your bottom lip.

“God, I love your lips,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice hoarse with desire. “So soft and responsive.”

You giggled, a little breathless, as he continued to pepper kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking gently. “I love your mouth too, Jongho,” you managed to say between kisses. “And your voice... it drives me wild.”

He chuckled, the vibration of his laughter tickling your skin. “Oh, I know, baby. But… you haven't heard anything yet, baby.”

With that, he set you down gently, his hands roaming over your body, mapping every curve and dip. He worshipped your body with his touch, his fingers trailing fire along your skin. He unbuttoned your blouse slowly, revealing your lace bra, and you shivered as his fingertips brushed against your exposed skin.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to touch every inch of you.”

You reached for the hem of his shirt, eager to explore his body as well. As you pulled it over his head, your breath caught at the sight of his strong chest and arms. His skin was warm and smooth, and you couldn't resist running your hands over his muscular frame.

“Feel how hard you make me,” he groaned, stopping your exploring hands and instead guiding them to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasped at the size of his erection, feeling the length and thickness through the fabric. “I've been waiting to be inside you, Y/N. To feel your tight pussy around my cock.”

Your core clenched at his words, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “I want that too, Jongho,” you whispered,”I- ah, I want to feel you, all of you.”

He wasted no time in removing your clothes, his skilled hands efficiently unfastening your bra and sliding off your pants. Soon, you were both naked, standing in the middle of the room, desire burning in both your eyes.

Jongho's hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch. “Ah I see, my girl likes when I play with her nipples, doesn't she?” he whispered, his breath hot in your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“I-I want you," you panted, reaching down to stroke his rigid length. “I want to feel you inside me, to ride you, to taste you…”

He groaned, his body trembling at your touch. “Then take me, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

Guiding you to the bed, he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of the passionate dance you already took earlier.

Straddling his hips, you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, feeling the head nudge against your wet entrance. And then, slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by agonizing inch, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his impressive size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jongho hissed, his hands gripping your hips as you descended. “You're so tight, Y/N. So wet and hot.”

You moaned, feeling incredibly full as you took him all the way inside. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being completely impaled on his thick shaft.

“Move, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strained. “Fucking ride me, baby.”

You began to move, slowly at first, rising and falling, taking him in and out of your heated core. As you picked up the pace, Jongho's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples, and leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“That's it, baby,” he growled, his eyes fixed on where your bodies joined. “Fuck, you look so sexy riding me.”

His words spurred you on, and you quickened your movements, your hips rolling as you rode him as hard as you possibly could. The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans, and Jongho's husky encouragements.

“That's it, take all of me,” he grunted, his hands gripping your thighs, guiding your movements. “You're so tight around my cock, Y/N. I'm gonna come so hard inside you.”

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his chest as you quickened your pace, driving him deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, Y/N, just like that,” he groaned, his hips rising to meet your downward strokes. “Fuck, you're so tight,” he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I can feel every inch of you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard.”

You could feel the pressure building in your core, the pleasure mounting with each and every thrust. Your body trembled, your muscles clenching around his thick shaft as you rode him with abandon. The sensation was overwhelming, almost making you drown in it entirely.

“Jongho, I'm so close,” you gasped, your voice breaking, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-”

“Yes, baby, cum for me,” he urged, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples. “Let me feel you cum around my cock. Let me feel you milking me dry.”

The sensation of his fingers on your nipples was the final push you needed. Your body tensed, your vision blurring as the orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. You screamed his name, your voice echoing in the room as your inner muscles clamped down on his shaft, milking him with desperate, rhythmic pulses.

“Jongho! Oh, God, Jongho!”

He groaned in response, his body shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. His hands tightened on your breasts, his nails digging into your skin as he spilled his release, filling you with hot, thick spurts of his seed.

You collapsed onto his chest, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as he panted, his heart pounding against your ear.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You're incredible. I've never felt anything like that.”

You nuzzled into his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Neither have I,” you murmured, “That was... amazing.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “We're not done yet, baby,” he said and you lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “Oh, really?” you asked, your voice dripping with anticipation. “What do you have in mind?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “You see… for that, you might have to cancel any plans you might have for the upcoming spring break, because in no fucking world am I gonna let you leave this goddamn apartment before I haven't tried every position that exists out there.”

You feigned a pout, placing a hand over your heart in mock despair. “Oh no, what will I tell the boys?”

“I'll make sure to come up with a very, very believable excuse for them, baby.”

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hederasgarden · 6 months ago

Text

On the Horizon (1/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has. Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Glen Powell Character Masterlist

It’s sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isn’t even your specialty; you’re here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.

Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.

When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know he’s more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.

You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.

Clearing your throat, Scott’s eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen.

"What?" he demands.

"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively.

When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.

"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?” He questions, amused.

"What?"

"Your boss," he clarifies.

"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."

"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."

Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.

"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.

You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, you’d barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, you’re spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.

It’s Scott.

"Owens," he bites out.

Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile.

"Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."

Once he’s gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.

"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."

Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.

When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scott’s full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.

An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tyler’s red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.

You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. They’re sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like they’re securing something to the side of his truck.

Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, you’re not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time.

You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, “Hey city girl, you want a beer?”

You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize there’s no turning back now. You’ve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.

“Come on, we don’t bite,” he encourages.

“Not unless you ask us to,” Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.

Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. It’s icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. You’ve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him.

“Hey…you’re an engineer right?” Lily calls out. “You wanna take a look at the wing here? She’s giving me some trouble.”

You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but he’s still inside.

“Tin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,” Tyler observes. “I think you’re safe to join us, Dorothy.”

You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. “Uh, yeah, I can take a look,” you tell Lily.

She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything she’s already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix.

Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. “You know, if things don’t pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.

“I’m a much nicer boss than Scout,” he promises.

“He’s not my boss,” you remind Tyler. “And his name is Scott.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way he’s looking at you.

You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadn’t actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tyler’s attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.

You offer him a quick, “thanks,” and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.

“Not a beer girl?” Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. “No, you strike me as a rosé-all-day type.”

“Actually, I’m a whisky girl,” you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.

“I must be losing my touch,” he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorant—something sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. “Unless, of course, you’re just messing with me,” he continues. “But you wouldn’t do something like that, would you, city girl?”

The way he stares at you suggests that he’s not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesn’t turn to see what has your attention. He doesn’t need to, you realize.

“A lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.” His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. “Lucky for you, darlin’, I’m a big boy.”

A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.

“I’m not…I didn’t,” you stumble over your words as Tyler’s smile grows.

“The decent thing to do is ask,” he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scott’s finally noticed the two of you together. “Better make it quick, he’s on his way over here now.”

“What?”

“You know what,” he replies, tapping your nose.

Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scott’s attention. “Okay, okay, fine,” you relent. “I’m trying to make Scott jealous.”

You can see Scott over Tyler’s shoulder now, his expression dark. He’s second away from being in hearing range. “Tyler. Please.”

“Well since you said the magic word.”

He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tyler’s body pressed firmly against your side.

“Hey, Scooter,” Tyler greets. “Want a beer?”

Scott’s cheek ripples in annoyance. “No,” he says curtly.

“Suit yourself.” Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. “Nothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.”

Scott’s nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone.

“Uh, I better go,” you tell Tyler. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Well, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink.

The second you’re within reach, Scott’s hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tyler’s crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you can’t quite decipher.

“I thought you were headed to bed early,” Scott accuses as soon as you’re out of earshot of the crew. He’s tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin.

“I was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.” He doesn’t need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan.

Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time with those hillbillies.”

“They aren’t so bad,” you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words don’t sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.

“Storm Par can’t be seen spending time with those amateurs. It’s bad for business. You should know better.”

You realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not jealous — he’s just angry. He’d probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again?

“Come on,” Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room.

At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.

His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you don’t resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then he’s on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest.

“Wait, Scott,” you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together.

He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. “It's been a long day,” he says, “and we both know you want this.”

You do want him, more than anything, but there’s something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours.

The bed creaks as he shifts back. “I can just go,” he offers.

“No, please don’t.” The words escape your lips before you even realize you’ve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scott’s the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent – one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college.

“Good answer,” he says with a smile.

You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted.

Aren’t you?

Part 2

♡

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#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens #twisters #scott miller x reader #scott miller x you #scott twisters

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graciedollie · 1 month ago

Note

hi hii, all the fanfics I read the reader was very feminine, but I was thinking about how cool it would be to do one where the reader is Ambessa's guard, and is muscular and big (but also very shy), Ambessa feels attracted and wants to see if the reader is good at other things besides fighting.....🙈

do it in your own time! ❤️‍🩹

Wandering Lamb

Pair: Ambessa Medarda x MuscularShy!Reader

Summary: You were one of Ambessa’s best soldiers, doing excellent in training and on the battlefield. She was oddly drawn to you, knowing you had much potential. Though, while doing your duties, you happen to stumble upon a sight you’d never forget. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

Warnings: Face-fucking, age difference (we love to see), fingering, just lex sesbian, praise(we definitely love to see it), Reader is Ambessa’s guard, AMBESSA HAS A BUSH (YES GOD), nothing too drastic or over the top 🎀

A/N: Hopefully this is to your liking babes <3 (i lowkey feel like my fics are going to shit cause of the decreased likes🧍🏾‍♀️)

The night hung high in the sky, casting over the land of Noxus with a thick hue of soft light. You were carefully stalking your way down the halls, panting slightly after a good day of training—well, intense. Training was, as usual, intense and sweat inducing, but you were good in training—hella good. Of course when you first started off, it was rocky as expected, but with time passing—you became one of Ambessa’s best soldiers. Sure her other soldiers did good, but you—you were a beast.

Though you were really skilled and powerful in combat, you were a shy little thing—balancing out your appearance with your personality. Body of a wolf, soul of a lamb. You were sweet and shy, but during battle—you were ruthless. As you spent your years of working your way up as a soldier, you became attracted to the one who pushed you along the way—Ambessa, Noxus fearless warlord. Now, she was absolutely stunning—nearly the beauty of a powerful goddess.

Unfortunately so, you didn’t want to seem out of order or unorthodox to have such feelings towards your higher up, which meant you had to push those feelings deep down and act normal when you were around her. Your mind was wandering with thoughts of her as you stalked your way down the long hallway, patrolling the halls as your usual duty when you weren’t fighting alongside her in battle, which was always a fine honor.

Keeping your eyes closely locked around your environments, it was until then that a noise from her bedroom caught you off guard—eliciting you to swiftly move and enter her room—weapon clutched in your hand.

“General. Are you ok?” Your voice was strained with concern and curiosity, furrowing your brows tightly as your quick feet moved across the marble floors before barging into the large bathroom as you didn’t find her in the bed.

There was no apparent danger, but the sight that was before you—damn near sinful. She laid soaking in the steaming tub, rich brown skin glowing in the dim light, and silver coils crowning her head. Her eyes glanced over with a disapproving gaze before a sly grin tugged at her red lips—nearly making you weak in the knees as her gaze on you was intense.

“And what may be the trouble of you rudely interrupting me, hm?” god that voice. You always loved that voice—whether she was calm and collected or either stern and scolding. It was something you never get tired of, always imagining the way her voice would flow through your ears with her fingers knee deep in yo—unfortunately, those thoughts weren’t to be welcomed.

“Uh—I apologize dearly, General. I…I thought I heard something and figured something was wrong—I’m sorry for interrupting..” Your voice was slightly strained with nerves, practically radiating around your built body, clasping the weapon tightly in your hand as your eyes met with hers before drifting lower, but quickly snapping to her eyes.

But she knew and she wanted you to look.

Ambessa took great pride in her body—the body she put in extensive work to earn. She tilted her head to the side while eyeing you intensely and shamelessly, humming in approval with the way you were built, but was shy as hell. It was honestly endearing to her and she knew that she needed you—and she knew you wanted the same.

“Come.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order—which you gladly followed as you swiftly stalked your way to the large bath, seeing just the way her breast were visibly in the calm waters and how the light scars adorned her beautiful brown skin—god you felt that you were in paradise. Her eyes peered into yours, sensing the nervousness in your eyes as she felt a small smirk tuh at her lips.

“As you know, you are one of my finest guards and best soldier, yes?” She raised a brow at you, expecting your answer quickly, which you quickly responded, “Yes! I am…I put great work and pride in my duties and training—just as you taught me, General.”

A hum of approval was heard from her at your choice of words, clearly liking the impression you were making. Her eyes stayed locked on yours fully before trailing down your body—taking in the way your muscles gleamed with leftover sweat from training.

“And what comes with that is an reward, yes?”

You were honesty ecstatic at her words, fighting the stupid grin that threatened to ghost over your lips. Your mind was racing with so many thing—maybe she’ll do this or that or this or that—with the possibilities being questionable. “Yes…”

“Excellent. I know just the reward for such a loyal, devoted woman you are…”

You just couldn’t wait for what she had in store for you <3

This was not what you were expecting…but you damn sure weren’t complaining.

Your clothes and weapon were completely abandoned to the side of the tub, leaving your body completely exposed to her lustful gaze and wandering eyes—taking in your toned built. You felt extremely shy as you were practically on a stand and her eyes observed your body intensely—catching the litter of scars adorning your skin.

She curled her finger in a ‘come here’ motion, which you quickly pushed through the water to get to her before her hands finally roamed all over your body, “Quite the view..”

“Oh…thank you, u-uh General..” You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that climbed from its chamber, internally face-palming yourself for doing the stupid gesture, but that was quickly pushed aside as her lips finally found your neck and suckled at the skin. A low moan escaped your mouth as her velvety tongue trailed over the delicate skin, leaving bites and kisses in her trail.

This felt like totally paradise. This is what you’ve wanted for so long. Your eyes fluttered as she slowly leaned you back to have you lay back against edge of the tub, lips never leaving your neck while her large hand ventured under the water and between your toned thighs—sliding her thumb across your slit, earning a soft gasp.

“Ambessa—“

“General.” She quickly corrected you, pulling away from your neck to take in your expressions as her thumb rubbed slow, firm circles over your aching clit—smirking at the sight before her. “You’ve peaked my interest, dear. Such a strong, loyal, and trustworthy woman you are. I respect that…”

Your hips bucked up to her touch, causing little ripples of water to scatter. Her eyes peered into yours before you turned to look away, only to be met with her other hand gripping your chin firmly and forcing the intense eye contact. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Her voice was firm and stern—the voice you loved hearing every time she spoke, god you needed her badly. You nodded quickly in compliance to her words, nodded eyes gazing into her peering ones—gasping as she slowly slipped a single finger in you with ease. Her fingers were thick, of course, but not this much. The way only one single finger felt, you were uncertain about adding another—three, at that matter.

“I-oh my gosh…General..” Your body was practically burning due to the stretch and with the sweet pleasure of her rubbing over your clit—slowly picking up the pace of her motions as she watched you intently.

You looked utterly breathtaking. Eyes were fluttering, struggling to keep eye contact. Mouth parted with gasp and low moans. Toned stomach flexing. Muscular thighs jerking with each pump of her finger and each flex of your sculptured arms as you slightly squirmed. “For a resilient woman, you are the shyest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on—how adorable.”

Your words were quickly spurring you on, moaning and grunting in response to her words—looking at her with a silent plea in your eyes, but that wouldn’t work with her. “Words or do you not want more? I’m sure you deserve an reward, no? It would be a shame if I had to take it away..”

“N-no! I…I need more…please.” Your voice was slightly shaky and strained, huffing slightly as you were worked up—already feeling yourself on the brink of combusting. She couldn’t help the smirk grazing over her lips, taking in the sight of your expressions as she added another finger—making you feel full.

“Oh…shitshitshit, General….please..”Your eyes were fluttering as they threatened to roll back, but you stayed strong as you knew she’d stop if you looked away—having this moment with her was a great honor, yes? Of course it was, with the way your pussy was gripping her fingers, enjoying this was an understatement.

“There we go…feels good to be rewarded, doesn’t it?” She hummed lowly against your lips, feeling your quicken gasps and whines as you quickly nodded, looking at her with hooded eyes, “Yes—y-yes…so good..”

“I know, I know…come for me, love..”

Her words were all the encouragement that you need, along with her thrusting her fingers quickly and steadily—earning a broken moan escaping your mouth as your thighs tensed up and jerked as the orgasm crashed over your body like a wave.

She was definitely going to enjoy a sweet thing such as yourself.

You felt you could die, but in a happy way, of course.

Here you were, face deep in the older woman’s thighs, trailing soft and delicate kisses along the toned, brown skin of her inner thighs as you were on your knees. She had her hand buried in your hair, making sure your eyes stayed locked on to hers—peering down at you with a lustful and appreciative gaze as she felt your warm lips against her thighs. “No need to be so shy, child…”

You could practically feel your body flare up with heat, besides the heat emitting from the warm water that engulfed you both. Your hooded eyes stayed locked up on hers with a desperate and needy gaze, feeling yourself getting more turned on as your hands came to rub her outer thighs and up to her ass—fondling with the soft, but firm muscle, earning an appreciative grunt as she flooded your head with praises.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Just like that, mhm..”

“Such a pretty thing.”

“You’re so gentle. I’m not fragile, love.”

“You’re so good..”

With her words spurring you on, you felt your body buzzing with excitement to finally give her what you both wanted, no—needed. Your eyes peered up at her with a silent plead, earning a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You know what to do…”

She didn’t even have to say anything else before you spreaded her thighs further, lapping away at her folds as the grey patch of hair tickled your noses—not that you minded, of course. The taste of her was utterly savoring and addictive, only wanting to taste more of her sweet nectar as it dribbled down her thighs, your chin and your lips. Your hooded eyes peered up at you and you felt that you might just cum like this.

The way her head was titled back, lips parted with low moans and grunts, breast jerking with her slight movements and the way her hips bucked to your face. You felt her hand tightening up in your high, pulling you closer to her weeping cunt, which you happily lapped away as if you were a starved woman. It felt like such paradise between her thighs, the smell and taste driving you absolutely feral—wanting more of her.

“That’s it…right there..” Her words came out strained and husky, signaling that she was practically on the edge of cumming, but not quite—though your tongue moved expertly through and in her cunt. The grip on her ass tightened as you buried yourself deeper in her thighs, latching into her swollen clit as you sucked messily at the bundle of nerves—feeling her toned thighs start to temblor alongside your head as she tugged your hair.

A mix of a grunt and growl escaped her mouth as her fluttering eyes peered down at your hooded ones, seeing how you were completely drunk for her. Both of her hands grasped your hair tightly, holding you still as she started to grind firmly against the expert tongue and mouth—practically face-fucking you with her pussy, which you felt honor for her to do such. You might just die. Your eyes stayed locked onto hers, seeing the way they struggled to stayed focused on yours before her head finally tipped back—eliciting a groan from her sweet lips.

Your hands roamed up and down her thighs, rubbing over her ass here and there—feeling completely content, even though she was practically suffocating you with the way she squeezed the toned muscles around you. If you died, you’d die happy.

The heavenly grunts and low moans of the older woman bounced off the walls and echoed, causing a beautiful melody that replayed in your head (most likely gonna remember this to fuck yourself to later). It was such a blissful noise and her using like this was just as thrilling—feeling the aching feeling swarm between your thighs. A startled moan was muffled by her cunt as she gave your hair one final pull before she completely came apart.

Her thighs trembled, hips bucked, breast jerking with each heavy breath she took, head tilling back. It was as if you were being gifted by the higher powers—thanking them eternally for this. The grip on her thighs tightened as she completely covered your face with her release—squirting all over your pretty face before you hungrily lapped away at the mess.

She panted heavily as her head slowly looked back down at you, titling her head as she examined your disheveled face—smiling wickedly at the sight. Her hand left your hair to pull you up from your knees, looking at you with a sinful gaze before she licked the essence of her from your chin to your lips—capturing your lips in a heated, hungry kiss, earning a moan from you before she pulled away.

“Such a mess…”

hope you enjoyed dollies <3

#ambessa fanfic #ambessa x you #ambessa smut #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa #arcane league of legends #lex sesbian #older women <3 #general ambessa #graciedollie ᯓᡣ𐭩 #https://graciedollie #lesbian #gracieasks!!#wlw #arcane #wlw blog

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theloveinc · 4 months ago

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Almost everything Giulio Gandini does is methodical—

The way he brews his tea, when you’re together and he insists upon a pot of hot water and his own sachet of loose leaves for steeping.

The way he makes your bed, with fluffed pillows and crisp sheets, the edges always cut where he’s folded the linen into the mattress to keep it secure…

And the way he finger fucks you, every night before bed, with your legs splayed open on top of clean, white sheets, and his warm body nestled into your side, mahogany hair loose around his face, hot against his neck.

He near cradles you in his lap, thick fingers (always his own flesh, never the prosthetic) rubbing warmth into your core, making sure you’re sopping before ever trying to enter you. Giulio seems to know your pussy better than you do, as by the time he’s two fingers deep, your thighs are already aching, strained from taking the shock of the two, three orgasms he was already able to glean from you with such little sweat on his behalf.

By now, this night time activity is routine, as is so much of the way your household with him is run, which is why you still scold yourself for not lasting longer at his behest, even if it is all for the sake of you—

(Never is he trying to torture you, more so just show love to you in ways much more specific than words can get, and maybe tire you out for a better night’s rest, at the same time—)

But every time you think you’ve become immune to the curl of his fingers, the press of his thumb against your clit, he manages another something else to have you writhing—first it was the scissoring of his fingers, then the addition of a third digit, and then the heel of his palm smashing into you, the list goes on—though his skill is methodical, well practiced and deliberately timed, Giulio is far from afraid of surprising you, especially if it ends in such a sweet reward.

(Often the wetting of the front of his boxers, from his own cum or the overzealous release of yours—you’ve never quite squirted with other partners the way Giulio can make you, and still manage to stop most of it from hitting your sheets, either by catching it with his tongue or letting it seep into his own clothing.)

He never lets you finish, finally, knuckles deep, without a kiss. Deep and guided, he kisses you until you’re left panting into his mouth, kisses you until you can’t reciprocate any longer, and kisses you until he’s left to do the work up kissing up your tears, instead.

By then, you’re much too caught up in the aftershocks of him, cunt still throbbing in his hands, to do anything more than let him soothe the white numbness of your near overstimulation in any which way he pleases. Sometimes that means running you both a bath (he could never not join you in the tub after such intimacy), soothing your aching body with a hot washcloth and a pot of fresh tea, or cuddling you until the sun rises.

Regardless, in such afterglow, you let him hold you until your breathing is back to normal and you can look him in the eye again and smile that tired little smile, the one he loves so much. All before he slips into bed beside you; a dutiful servant, giving til his last breath.

#Giulio #giulio gandini x reader #sorry Anna. he’s mine now. sorry. sorry.#ily babe but. either you’re sharing or im breaking ur heart #imma be real. I thought abt him making our bed every day and I nutted everywhere all over myself #I will. tidy this up. in the. when I wake up #I have slept #not slept. I mean #anyway jrjzkfjdkfjichxhdkhfkt uhhhhhhhhhh #sorry?#I keep calling him Giuseppe in my mind #caitie post #gen

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prettyboykatsuki · 5 days ago

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✮ tags ; gn!reader (no gendered language. they have boobs), reader is not mc, stripper!reader, normal doctor zayne, takes place in a different country to where the game is set, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; dont think too deeply about this one. its just horny. based on this

✮ synopsis ; zayne is not the type of man to fall for a stripper. supposedly.

He's here on business.

Research, specifically. It's common for Zayne to be invited to speak in different conferences regarding his tremendous research - but the prefers the predictable chaos of working in the Linkon City Hospital.

He only ever catches a flight for good reason. And rumor has it that one of the people who have dragged him into such... a salacious establishment have information related to Aether Cores and the like.

This is not the type of place he would ever go on his own, to be quite clear.

It's loud. Packed with people of all kinds, the saccharine scent of perfume and liquor clinging to the air, and completely dim with exception of the stage.

There's a popular performer tonight, Zayne hears from the crowd. He glances over at the people besides him. A strange mix of professionals and business men all shitface drunk.

He wonders if this kind of environment would be more tolerable if he, too, drank.

His head hurts regardless. He scans the room quietly, trying to map out an easy exit. He'll make up a lie about having a meeting in the morning and excuse himself politely. They seem just out of it enough not to hold it against him. Now would be the perfect time.

He really, really wants to leave. But the optimal time to do so passes him. Before he can unlatch from his seat, the already dim lights go dimmer and the stage lights go bright. An MC on the stage speaks to the crowd and Zayne goes in and out from listening. He only catches the latter half of a sentence.

"Let's give them a warm welcome, ladies and gentleman!"

Music begins to play with a slow intro. Zayne doesn't know the song, but he thinks he's heard it before on TV or somewhere else. Maybe somewhere online. He isn't sure.

It doesn't take any time for Zayne to understand why you're such a popular performer.

From the minute you step out, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Like stealing the air from his lungs, you walk in with confidence. Undeniably gorgeous and keen about it too, you approach the pole center stage with a playful coyness.

You spin around the pole as the song works it's way to the chorus, limbs loose as you mouth the lyrics to the intro. Zayne can barely make out the lyrics—appropriately sexual, from what he can tell.

Your expression is light as you pull off a routine of tricks. He can't help but admire the skill in it - well aware of what kind of core strength and control is required to hold yourself upright.

Even your landing is graceful as you drop back onto your heels and bend forward on your knees.

You let loose when the chorus begins. You've practiced for this. The moment you hear the verse you choreographed the whole dance around - you own the attention of the crowd completely. Gesturing like you're grinding against the pole, face pulled into a grin, hair flipping back as you enjoy the music. People throw tips onto the stage and you work them into your routine.

Offering winks and blowing kisses, even Zayne finds his face cracked in a smile that feels amused. He isn't sure what it is exactly, that seems to make you different.

You look like you love the attention. That everyone's eyes are on you, fully entranced.

Himself included.

When the next part of the song plays, you playfully drop down onto the floor to do crowdwork. He thinks the cheering is going to blow out his ear drums, the spotlight working hard to follow you as a path clears.

This is the part where you seduce the audience, Zayne recognizes. To crowd and get to close without ever touching, taking sips of drinks and giving a guiding hand when someone wants to stick bills into your waistband.

There's a strict rule in place to not touch the dancers unless they touch you first. Most everyone abides by it, though Zayne's sure that can get tricky on other nights.

You go through different sections as the song plays.

And you make eyes at Zayne just one section before his.

It happens too fast. You climb up a few steps and weave your way through every member of his section before you finally stop at him. With the music still playing, and in the middle of your performing - you get this look in your eye that makes Zayne hold his breath.

The bridge is more sensual then sexy. It's slower and more rhythmic. You stand in front of him and sway to it, seemingly trying to decide on what to do. Zayne can't tell if it's apart of your act or not.

Before he can make any sense of it, you use your heel to drive his knees apart and turn around - hovering over his lap. Zayne's eyes go wide. He can feel the warmth crawl it's way up his chest, ears growing hot as he clears his throat.

You turn your head over your shoulder as if to taunt him. Zayne doesn't find the strength to push you away.

This emboldens you. Just enough to drop the rest of your weight onto his lap and sit there like it's nothing. Zayne is suddenly conscious of the extent of your exposure. Almost naked and sitting directly on his—

He hears you giggle. Over the music, and this close to him - he can hear it in your voice as you sit. You lean back until your back hits his chest, kicking one of your legs up and putting more pressure between you. Your hand reaches around to the back of his neck.

He can't see the face your making in the moment. He gets the impression he doesn't need to.

You roll your hips with increasing interest as each verse of the bridge plays, at one point leaning forward again.

It's something about that specific angle. The small of your back, the slope of your shoulders and the curve of your arch. Something about that angle that Zayne understands for the first time in his life why someone would ever want to touch someone they don't know so intimately.

Zayne doesn't know you. Not outside of this. But in that split second where you're all skin and sweet smelling perfume and sweat—he so desperately wants to touch you.

So much so that he's thankful when you stand up. When the chorus begins again and the song begins to close - you turn around and face him.

With a knee between his legs resting on the couch, you cage Zayne into being face first with your chest. Your smile feels especially bright, and so terribly beautiful as you laugh again at his reaction.

He feels your fingertip trace his jaw and finds himself completely helpless as you tilt his face to get a good look at you. As if you want him to remember who exactly makes him feel like this.

He finds it almost silly. There's no way he'd be able to forget you. Not after this.

When your nails trail lightly under his chin, you lean into whisper something.

"Come find me after the show,"

And then you pull back, hand on his chest before holding it out. Somehow Zayne knows what you're asking and pulls a random amount of bills from his to place in your hand.

You grab them instantly, bending down to kiss him on the cheek just before the last few verses play. It takes until then for you to finally move on from him and entertain the last two sections in the wind down. Just a few more verses before the song comes to a close.

Zayne can hear all the blood rushing in his ears as he leans back, unsure of what exactly to do.

When it's over, the crowd erupts into cheers. A very large man comes to escort you away from them and back into the dressing room. Zayne watches you leave. He feels completely out of his depth and the pure engima of you seems to be the only anchor he has.

He feels something intense in his chest when your eyes meet and you smile again, blowing him a kiss before getting further dragged away. He can nearly hear your giggle all the way from where he sits.

After a while, the lights come on again. Different girls take up the stage. Zayne's colleagues and co-workers all pat him on the back but he finds himself more perturbed then anything.

What just happened?

He reminds himself that this is work. Your work is to bring men to their knees. And it's not that Zayne doesn't respect it, but he isn't the sort of man to be caught so easily by something as the prospect of sex.

Would it be ridiculous? For him to say there's more to it than that?

He isn't sure. He isn't sure if the semantics matters when ultimately, he finds himself wanting to do exactly as you say.

Maybe, he'll have answers when he does come find you.

#writing tag #zayne x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnds zayne x reader

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la2yn0va · 7 months ago

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Yandere High Cloud Quintet x Male Reader Headcanons

Cw: Stalking, Manipulation, Abuse, Blood, Daggers, sadism, unhealthy obsession, 18+ shit/topics.

Characters: Jingliu, Jing yuan, Dan Feng/Heng, Blade/Yangxinq, Baiheng. (Separate and Together)

———

Jingliu

Jingliu is a very gentle lover, sure she’s a little (massively) possessive of you, but it’s fine. She teaches you swords fighting, she protects you from any threats, and she’s a joy to be around with the quintet.

You relationship started like any other cliche love story. She saw you walking around aimlessly and feel in love. To her, you were beautiful. In fact, she was convinced you were idrilia or at the least her descendent.

So, she watched (stalked) you. For a LONG time. Watching as you walk around without purpose, as others glare jealously at you, as others OGLE at you.

It disgusted her, to see others practically drool or even dare to face you. Her eyes twitching involuntarily, her pupils shrinking in size, looking like a rabid animal.

So, using her skills as a seasoned warrior, she leads those people into very dangerous territory. Watching as the abominations of the abundance tear them to shreds.

She then accidentally bumps into you, and that’s how your relationship started. You know, the normal cliche romance novel beginnings. (Call me crazy….but I don’t think she bumped into you accidentally..I think she did that shit on PURPOSE)

Jingliu only feels comfortable allowing the quintet to touch/look at you. To her, it’s another win over them, she got the best looking person the entire xianzhou will ever have.

But then, when we got Mara-struck. Things changed. HORRIFICALLY.

Mara-Struck jingliu doesn’t bother to hide her obsession for you. Before she escapes the luofu, she steals you away, even breaking your legs so you couldn’t resist.

But don’t worry, she didn’t break them to the point you won’t heal from it. You will, you HAVE to. Your beauty simply couldn’t allow such a disgusting thing to exist to your body.

She cuffs you and ties your legs together, making sure you couldn’t resist any of her loving gestures. A kiss here, a cut there, a slap here, a gut punch there.

Looking down at your bloody and bruised body below her, she can’t help but smile. Your tears and blood making your skin glow beautifully, making her weak in the knees.

She dips down and grabs your chin, harshly lifting your head up to face her as she leaned in to lick your tears.

Jingliu: Your so fucking beautiful~

Her voice trembles as she kisses you, forcing her tongue deep down your throat. Forming a small icy dagger to draw more blood from your angelic body.

Jingliu: Mmm~ All bloody and bruised for me—BY. ME. You have no idea what you do to me~~!

She moaned out, cutting open another wound into your body. Feeling euphoric as she hears you sing your beautiful screams of pain—Pleasure

Jingliu: You did this too me~ YOUR the reason I’m Mara-struck! It’s your fault for being so FUCKING gorgeous~! For that.. YOU. OWE ME YOUR LOVE. YOUR VERY EXISTENCE ITSELF~~!

10/10. A terrifying yandere.

Sadistic, Impulsive, Delusional, Possessive, Obsessive and Clingy Yandere.

Baiheng

(I know she isn’t meant to have the horns but I couldn’t find a better picture)

Unlike jingliu (and pretty much everyone here) bai heng could never have the heart to physically harm you.

No no no, such an atrocious act like that never crossed her mind. How could she ever harm your delicate body?

Baiheng would much more comfortably gaslight—Manipulate—would much more comfortably win you over with her humor.. and alcohol.

She’s generally good at hiding her obsessive tendencies from you, besides being extremely clingy. If she doesn’t have a hand wrapped around you she feels like she’s loosing her mind.

Baiheng would take you on expeditions to other planets, protecting you, tasting different types of alcohol, showing you off.

She lets you do her hair and groom her tail, and touch her ears. She also keeps her tail wrapped around your waist.

Baiheng would manipulate you into believing and only being completely reliant on her and her only. Your family? Leave em’ they’re holding you back. They wouldn’t accept your relationship with her.

Your friends? She’s the only person you can trust, those others are trying to steal you away from HER! Why have such boring friends when you can hang with her and the quintet?

Your job? Quit. You don’t need money or anything like that. She has your back, she’ll simply TAKE money from others and support you like that.

Baiheng is an emotional and mental manipulator and isolationist with a ‘healthy’ dose of controlling—Type of yandere.

One thing your don’t have to worry about is physical abuse. She’d never harm your body in any way.. that and she fucking dies.

Also she’d probably give you a pet name that has something to do with alcohol or stars/trailblazing

Bai Heng: My dear~! I brought alcohol from another planet! Come taste it with me and the quintet!

Bai Heng: Come my star, your family isn’t important. IM the only person who’ll treat you right~ I have money, a high status, a ship that can travel to different planets~

Bai Heng’s tail hugs your waist and her hands cup your face, pepper kissing your face to no end, only finding your embarrassed face adorable and using it as motivation to continue.

2/10, probably the best yandere here to have obsess over you.

A Manipulative, Isolating, Possessive yandere.

Jing Yuan

He is also a relatively relaxed yandere. He doesn’t even have to try hard to get others to leave you alone.

Similar to bai heng, jing yuan would never physically harm you. He’s much more comfortable manipulating you.

Also similar to BaiHeng, he’d isolate you and forge your mind to be utterly and even pathetically reliable on him.

Using his status as general of the luofu, he’d forge some fraudulent evidence on your friends and family, having them arrested and even humiliated in public.

Then he swoops in again, and lifts you and your family up. He offers you reassurance, he suddenly finds the TRUE criminals, he punishes those who verbally assaulted you and your people.

Jing yuan still wishes to have your family’s blessing in a normal, everyday person would. But he isn’t afraid of just taking you away from your family and friends.

He’s a blend of baiheng and jingliu, he has bai hengs manipulative tendencies and jingliu’s violent behavior on others to secure you for himself.

Jing yuan: Come with me Love. I wish to teach you swords technique.

Jing Yuan: My love, would you care for some chess lessons?

Jing Yuan: Seize these criminals! Being those who have harmed the L/n’s to me. I shall allow the l/n’s to punish them accordingly.

4/10–Similar to baiheng but a little more dangerous as he does have violent tendencies.

A Manipulative, Possessive, even Self-Indulgent Yandere.

Blade/Yingxing

Yingxing is also surprisingly normal. He uses his charm and crafts things for you to win you over.

He gets Dan Feng to tell him how to crafts those arm braces the Vidyadhara use to feel others warmth from miles away, so he can craft one for you.

He crafts you multiple weapons you have interest in. A sword that can morph into a scythe, a spear that elongates, a chain that has blades (takeda from MKX and 1)

The only negative tendency I see him having is being overly possessive and clingy to you. So he’s controlling, but that’s it. Until he becomes blade.

BLADE—Remembers you, his mind is completely fulled with imagines of you. His obsession and yandere-ness upgrading 10 folds.

Blade takes you in broad daylight, he doesn’t bother any types of subtleties. Your his, you always were.

He’s not suave as yingxing is, he’s just blunt and clingy. A scary violent dog that WILL kill anyone who even looks at you besides the stellaron hunters.

A part of him is annoyed that you’re scared of him, stop shaking and just hug him back you ungrateful fuck!

But there’s a part of him that thrives on it, that breaths it in, swims in your fear. Knowing that your fear will control you, and using it to destroy any hope building in you.

And when the Mara acts up and Kafka isn’t there to stop it..you sir, are fucked. His darker and unhinged personality takes hold, purposefully instilling fear in you.

He throws you in the woods and chases you down like the weak little prey you are. Using the dark, foggy, creepy environment to make you more paranoid.

Sneaking up behind you and breathing on your neck just to disappear as you flick around to face him. Then when he catches you, he reassures you that he’ll protect you, before using his sword to make you bleed.

Unlike jingliu, blade is happier and more then willing to completely rip off your limbs to keep you in place, so don’t push him.

Also similar to her, he loves your tears and blood, enjoying how it makes your skin shine even more than usual.

Yingxing: Your not distracting me dear. Infact, I find myself working better when you’re on my lap.

Blade: Sit still. Or will slit open your throat.

10/10 a more dangerous jingliu.

Delusional, Overprotective, Sadistic, Clingy and Possessive Yandere.

Dan Heng/Feng

Dan Feng is a clingy yandere. Knowing that he’s eventually gonna be reincarnated, he wants you to worship him so you’d love him in his next life.

He isn’t afraid of just taking you in daylight. After all, who would challenge the High elder Vidyadhara?

He ALWAYS wraps his tail around your body. It normally stays on your waist. Thighs if he’s getting jealous or angry, ankles if he feels your challenging him.

Dan Feng keeps you beside him at all times, he the type to teach you history, magic, aeons. But he never teaches you how to fight, he wouldn’t want you to fight back against him.

Dan Feng is a self-indulgent and Possessive Yandere. But what about Dan Heng?

Dan Heng at first doesn’t want to approach you. He knows your Dan Feng lover but also knows how much he’s hurt you.

He tries and TRIES his damnedest to stay away from you. But it seemed Dan Feng love to you transferred to him.

Dan Heng, unlike Dan Feng is a much more softer yandere. He’s clingy and protective of you, allowing you personal space that Dan Feng would’ve never given you.

Dan Heng never transforms into his dragon form, as he knows you’ll get a panic attack if he did. He’s much more happier loving you as Dan Heng then Imbibitor Lunae.

Dan Feng obsession over you also transferred to Dan Heng, so in case that obsession takes over him, he teaches you how to fight, how to exploit his weaknesses.

Dan Feng: Cease your struggles. It’s pointless to fight back.

Dan Feng: Correct~ see how much more knowledgeable you get when you’re around me?

Dan Heng: Forgive me… I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.

Dan Heng: I am not Dan Feng. I will not harm you or push your boundaries.

Dan Feng: 5/10–Self Indulgent and Possessive yandere

Dan Heng: 3/10–Possessive and Protective yandere.

The Quintet

Your fucked. There’s just other no way to put it, your fucked.

At first they find it hard to share you, they want you all to themselves, it’s too damn suffocating to share you with four other people.

So, they take turns. Jingliu gets Monday’s, Yingxing gets Tuesday’s, Dan Feng gets Wednesday’s, Jing Yuan gets Thursdays, and Bai Heng gets you Friday.

They all share you on the weekends. Taking you on dates privately from the citizens of the luofu.

Escaping them is an absolutely laughable concept. It’s not possible to get away from them, so you might as well learn how to live with them.

The five of them would try to manipulate you into hating the others and liking them more. But they wouldn’t use the others insecurities or share their secrets. Mearly telling you why THEY’RE better.

Speaking of, what are dates like with them? Jingliu’s dates are a murder spree, she takes you to a territory full of the abundance creatures and makes you watch as she kills them all. In her mind, this shows you how well she can protect you.

BaiHeng is more traditional, taking you on a picnic in a nearby planet. Yangxinq would take you on scenic walks dates.

Jing yuan dates are lessons in fighting and chess. Dan Feng’s dates are library ones.

Jingliu and Dan Feng don’t care about your personal space. It’s there’s space too. The other three would try to pry them off of you but be unsuccessful.

You have accessories of them on your body. A glove from Yangxinq, a necklace from Jingliu, a bracelet from bai heng, a weapon from Jing yuan, an arm brace from Dan Feng.

When bai heng dies and jingliu gets Mara-struck shit hits the fan. Jingliu is much more obsessive with you, trying to repeatedly steal you away from Jing yuan who is protecting you from her.

Dan Feng tries to input a forbidden protective barrier on you that causes him to get outcasted and furthers his desire to bring back Bai Heng.

Yangxing and jing yuan gets more protective and possessive over you, with jing yuan’s protectiveness being amplified once yangxing dies and Dan Feng is banished.

Jing yuan isolated you completely from anyone and everything besides him. He can’t take anymore of him friends dying or leaving.

He cries into your chest, hugging you deathly while promising to protect you and degrading himself for not doing more to save his old friends.

Jingliu would try to find you, but eventually she’d leave the luofu, believing jing yuan was hiding you somewhere in the cosmos.

Years pass and the only person you ever need and ever interact with is jing yuan. He’s in a much more better mental state but still extremely overprotective and isolating you.

Blade try’s to find you but falls, Dan Heng represses his obsession of you. No one finds you, and that’s good, no one can take you away nothing can hurt you.

Until SHE finds you. Jingliu comes back and she somehow finds you. Of course he hid you here. Right under where the high cloud quintet would hang out.

She doesn’t steal you immediately. No no no, she needs to make sure it’s you and that jing yuan hasn’t corrupted you in any way.

She gets angry when you mistake her for Jing yuan, so, she decides to cleanse you of him. She steals you away and leaves the luofu and the xianzhou entirely. She doesn’t need that trauma machine of a ship anymore.

She has you, that’s all she needs, all she WANTS.

———-

God fucking damn I’m never doing this again ;-; (maybe)

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bbyobbyo · 9 months ago

Text

Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.

content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food

wc: 1.6k

notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤

6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.

"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.

"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.

You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.

Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.

"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."

"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.

"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.

Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?

After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.

Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.

"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.

The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.

Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.

The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.

You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.

He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.

You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.

"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"

Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.

"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.

"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."

"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.

"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"

"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."

You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"

"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."

After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"

He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."

#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #vernon chwe x reader

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uniquexusposts · 3 months ago

Text

Driver of the day | C. Leclerc

Summary: Charles is asked to pick up the little sister of his best friend at the airport.

Charles Leclerc drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his sunglasses shielding him from the Riviera's afternoon sun. Theo, one of his best friends, sat beside him, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, occasionally glancing up at the chaos of Nice Airport’s Kiss and Ride.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Theo asked, flicking through his notifications. “There are better things to do than standing here unnecessarily long.”

“Because her brother asked,” Charles replied without looking over.

Theo snorted. “Right, and when he asks, you jump. Got it.”

Charles didn’t bother responding, his attention shifting to the waiting crowd. “He said she would be standing near the main pickup area.”

Theo squinted through the windshield, his eyes scanning the line of travellers, some were leaving, others arrived. “What does she even look like now? It’s been, what, four years?”

Charles shrugged. “Same as before, I guess. Short, shy, always in oversized dresses or black clothing...”

“And braces,” Theo added with a grin. “Don’t forget the braces.”

They both laughed, their shared image of Y/n frozen in the awkward teenage years when they teased her relentlessly. But then Theo straightened, leaning closer to the window. “Wait... oh, shit, is that her?”

Charles frowned, following Theo’s gaze. His grip on the wheel loosened as his eyes landed on a woman standing by a suitcase. She was polished, confident, elegant, and nothing like the Y/n they remembered. “Holy shit, indeed,” he muttered.

Theo leaned back, shaking his head in disbelief. “No way. That’s not her. That’s... someone else. Has to be.”

“She’s standing exactly where your brother said she would be,” Charles said, his voice quieter now.

Theo grinned, recovering quickly. “Well, if it’s not her, at least we are about to make a stranger’s day.” He rolled down the window and leaned out, his smirk wide. “Need a taxi to Monaco?”

The woman turned toward them, and her expression shifted from confusion to surprise to annoyance as recognition flickered across her face.

“Yep, that’s her,” Charles said under his breath, pulling the car into park and stepping out.

Y/n’s voice carried as she looked at them. “What are you two doing here? Where’s my brother?”

Charles grinned, slipping his sunglasses up onto his head. “Something came up. He sent us instead.”

Theo was already out of the car, circling to grab her suitcase. “And lucky for us, too. Although... we almost didn’t recognise you.”

Charles nodded, his grin turning a touch softer as he studied her. “We were expecting the old Y/n.”

“The braces. The dresses,” Theo chimed in, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Not... this,” Charles finished, gesturing toward her with a vague wave of his hand.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp. “This?”

Theo smirked. “You know, the whole ‘looking like you just walked off a runway’ thing.”

Charles chuckled as he opened the back door for her. “Ignore him. He’s not used to surprises.”

Y/n sighed, brushing past them to climb into the car. “And I see you two haven’t changed at all.”

Theo hoisted her suitcase into the trunk, laughing. “Still bossy. Yep, it’s definitely her.”

As they returned to the car and Charles merged into traffic, Theo twisted in his seat, looking back at her. “So, what’s Madrid been like? Because, clearly, it did something to you.”

Charles shook his head, his grin lingering as he watched Y/n through the rearview mirror. “Careful, Theo. You might not survive the ride to Monaco if you keep that up.”

Theo and Y/n gasped when Charles braked hard. Y/n’s hand reached for the door for a grip, and her eyes grew round.

“Why is he driving?” She asked.

A grin formed on Theo’s lips. “You know, he needs to practice his normal driving skills in a normal car on a normal road every once in a while.”

“Theo, what the fuck,” Charles replied with an annoyed sigh.

For the first time, a smile formed on Y/n’s lips. “Glad you force him to because I can’t tell this is an F1 driver for Ferrari.”

Laughter from Theo filled the car, even to the point he started to cough and gasp for air. Y/n couldn’t help, but laugh as well, but she silently laughed. It was silent at the driver's side, as Charles didn’t know how to react. However, he could smile at her comment as it made her laugh.

★

The car pulled into the Maison's driveway, the sound of the engine echoing softly through the otherwise peaceful area. As Charles slowed down, Y/n glanced out the window, smiling at the familiar surroundings.

As Charles steered the car to the front door, Theo leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, this is it.”

Y/n looked at the front door, then around the car and finally at Charles. “You’re really gonna park it like this?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Theo chuckled. "Don’t worry, he’s got normal parking skills." He shot Charles a teasing grin.

Charles muttered something under his breath, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he guided the car into place, clearly trying to ignore the jabs.

Once the car came to a stop, Y/n pushed open the door and stepped out. She grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from their chaotic drive. “You know,” she said, her smile playful, “you might want to stick to F1 tracks, Charles. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Theo’s laughter erupted again, echoing around the driveway. “You should’ve seen her face when he hit the brakes,” he said, his voice nearly cracking with amusement.

Charles rolled his eyes as he exited the car, closing the door behind him. “Very funny,” he muttered.

Y/n turned to face him, a grin still tugging at her lips. “Honestly, I’m just glad I survived that ride. Can’t say the same for my heart, though.”

Charles gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not the first person to say that.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood to be your next record,” she replied, still smiling.

“Next time, I’ll make sure you’re in the front seat,” Theo said, his tone mock-serious as he stepped up next to her. “First-row experience.”

“Let’s just get inside,” Charles grumbled, the playful banter finally wearing thin. “I’ll deal with you two later.”

“Ooooooo,” Theo hummed, throwing his hands up.

As they entered the Maison, soft words filled the air. They all walked to the living room, where the words came from. Laurent, Y/n’s brother, was calling. His suit was slightly wrinkled, and his tie was loosened, the telltale signs of a long day at work. He was still in the process of kicking off his shoes when he saw his little sister. A massive smile appeared, and his jaw dropped in excitement. He pointed at his phone and held up his hand, letting them know it would take five minutes. He walked over to Y/n and gave her a hug and a kiss on her hair.

Y/n smiled. Her brother had always been this way: always multitasking and making sure things were in order. It was one of the reasons she admired him so much. She sat down on the couch and looked around. Not much had changed, apart from a few photos and different cushions.

Theo dropped down into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “So, what’s the plan, huh? What do you two want to do first? Tour the place? Hit the beach?”

Charles, who had been quiet while her brother handled the call, shifted his gaze to Y/n. The room felt oddly still for a moment, their shared gaze lingering longer than either of them expected.

Y/n, feeling the weight of the quiet, broke eye contact first and turned to glance at her brother. “Let him finish first, I guess. We’ve got time,” she said lightly, her voice carrying an undertone that belied how restless she felt beneath the surface.

Her brother spoke up, his voice clear despite the distance. “Alright, I’ll be done in a minute. Just trying to sort out a few things. You three get comfortable, help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

Charles stood still for a second, the quiet of the moment pressing down on him, and for the first time since they had arrived, he felt the subtle tension that had built between him and Y/n. It was odd, this unspoken thing between them, as if the space in the room was filled with something more than just casual conversation.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. “I’ll grab us a drink. You good with something, Y/n?”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, startled by his question. “Uh, yeah, sure. Water’s fine.”

“Water it is,” he replied, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“I will take a coke, thank you,” Theo ordered and put up his thumb.

Charles sighed and made his way to the kitchen.

As he walked away, Y/n couldn’t help but glance at him again, watching how he moved so effortlessly. It was a quiet observation, nothing too obvious, but enough to make her heart race just a little. He had become more handsome than she remembered.

“So…” Laurent entered the living room again. He fell beside his little sister on the couch and looked at her. “Welcome back, Y/n/n.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her briefly. “It has been empty here without you.”

Y/n smiled, the familiar warmth of her brother’s presence comforting her. “It’s still home,” she said softly, glancing around the room. Her brother bought this place just before she left for Madrid. She helped him move, but that was all.

“Gonna make sure you’re spoiled during your stay. Got all your favourites lined up, too.”

“Love that.”

“I'm sorry I couldn’t pick you up, but there was a massive accident in Menton. I just arrived back home,” he apologised, feeling bad he couldn’t keep up his promise to pick her up.

“No worries,” she smiled. “It was an… interesting pick-up party.”

Laurent raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Interesting how?”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes glancing over to where Charles and Theo had settled in the room. “Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to be picked up by an F1 driver and a…,” she paused, looking at Theo with a teasing grin, “...professional passenger.”

Theo let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “I am not a professional passenger!” He threw his hands up dramatically. “I just prefer to let Charles take the wheel. It’s not my fault he’s too quick to get in and out of trouble.”

Charles, who had been quietly listening, snorted with laughter. “You’re one to talk. You’re just mad because I beat you in the car to Menton the other week.”

Y/n shot them both a playful look. “I’m just glad I’m still alive to tell the tale.”

Charles flashed her a grin. “See? No harm done.”

“Yeah, you say that now.” Y/n crossed her arms, smirking. “You almost gave me a heart attack. I was about to turn into an honorary member of the FIA with that kind of ride.”

Laurent, who was listening to the banter, snickered. “Things haven’t changed, I see. Still bickering like an old married couple.”

“Pff.”

“Shut up.”

“Old married couple,” Theo agreed and sipped from this drink.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “We’re not bickering. I’m just saying Charles could practice more with regular cars. Don’t think Monaco’s tight corners should be his only driving experience.”

Theo burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “Oh, she’s calling you out, Charles. You’ve been called out.”

Charles, trying to keep a straight face, replied, “Okay, okay, maybe I’ll take some tips from the passenger seat next time, just to ensure no one else gets traumatised.”

Y/n gave him a playful side-eye. “Good plan. We’ll be safer that way. I can teach you the tips and tricks.”

The moment was light and familiar—like old times when teasing each other was second nature. Still, as the laughter faded, Y/n couldn’t help but feel something shift in the room. It was subtle, but there was an undeniable weight to the space between her and Charles. Her smile softened as her eyes flicked briefly to him, and she noticed the way his gaze lingered on her before he quickly looked away, his expression unreadable.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins@heart-trees

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socksracoon10 · 3 months ago

Note

p2 where the argument turns into a makeout sesh yes or yes?

𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: (𝘠/𝘕) (𝘓/𝘕) 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴? Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: I AM SO HAPPY SOMEONE ASKED FOR A PART 2 BECAUSE THAT'S ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT SINCE I POSTED THE FIC YESTERDAY... anon thank you I was over here giggling and kicking my feet reading your ask... uh halfway through writing this I realized I got carried away it's MUCH longer than I intended LMFAO Read The First Part: Hit and Run

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.

"Hey man, next time you race try not to kill the other drivers," (Y/N) (L/N) sunk down into the P3 chair next to Sainz, who had just won the race. He glanced over at her with a scowl, clearly wanting to say some nasty things if it wasn't for the million cameras in the cooldown room. She shifted in her seat, stretching her arms as she watched the race's highlights on the screen besides her. Carlos and her both had a spectacular race, considering they had started from the bottom of the grid more or less. She knew she had the skills to get to the podium, but she was surprised at the fact that Carlos had managed to somehow win the race from nowhere. It didn't seem like his normal self and she wondered what could've motivated him to actually drive good for once.

"Next time you race, try not to be cocky and drag other drivers down," Carlos grumbled, his voice was muffled due to the rag that was currently soaking up all of the sweat on his face. She glared at him, holding an accusatory finger to the air before Max had settled down in the P2 chair. He shook Carlos's hand, before waving at (L/N). The room was silent, spare Max rambling on about what he saw during the race. As Max continued to talk, (L/N)'s eyes flickered occasionally onto Carlos, wondering what was going through his mind. She was definitely in the wrong, but her ego wouldn't handle that and she needed to tear him a new one once they were done with all the celebrations. She always hated this circuit anyway.

"She's not supposed to be here, mate," Charles giggled, jerking his thumb towards the woman that was angrily storming into Ferrari's garage. Carlos looked up from where he sat with a groan escaping his lips.

"She isn't," Carlos stood up, taking the cap off his head to run a hand through his hair, "I suppose you've come to apologize for your behavior this weekend? Or last weekend? Or the many weekends before that?" "Apologize?" (L/N) snorted, rolling her eyes, "I've come to ask about what you said at the press pen!"

Charles, sensing the tension between the two, gently ushered the two into Carlos's driver's room before shutting the door. The last thing Ferrari needed after this lovely weekend was to deal with the drivers having to go through PR training once again, especially with the amount of times Carlos had been talking shit about (Y/N) (L/N). Carlos had stood by the door, arms crossed as he gestured with his hands for her to begin whatever stupid argument she had managed to pull out of her ass this time.

"You remember what you said?" She growled, and when she saw him shake his head, her nostrils flared, "You literally told the press, 'sometimes, I like to put people in the places they belong and that's precisely what I did with (L/N)', are you kidding me?"

"You should be happy," Carlos scoffed, "I could've said way worse. Besides, I was giving you a taste of your own medicine. You said after qualifying yesterday that even with a million practices, I'd still fumble."

"Yeah, because you do! You're inconsistent as hell and that's why-"

"And yet who won the race today starting behind you." Carlos interrupted her. She closed her mouth, chest heaving. Carlos could see the gears turn in her head, she was trying so hard to come up with something. He had a smug smile on his face and somehow this was more victorious than winning the Grand Prix.

"It doesn't matter if you win today or not, you won't be driving for Ferrari soon, anyway," She spat. She smirked at the way his face fell, her arms crossed with her head tilted upwards. That cocky look on her face that always drove him wild.

"You're such an asshole," Carlos seethed, and before she could respond with a snarky remark, his lips crashed onto her. His hands came to hold onto the sides of her face, pulling her as close to him as he could. He pulled away for a brief second to take a quick breath and noticed the way her eyes widened, "Did you just kiss me? Listen here buddy, I'll have you know that-" Her words died down when she noticed Carlos's eyes flicker to her lips. God, her absolute hatred for him made her forget how charming he truly was. She wouldn't admit to it, though. Not now nor ever. Right now, all they needed was to blow off this steam. She grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down to another searing kiss, eyes closed as their teeth crashed into one another. She tugged his hair and he squeezed her waist, both of them realizing that feelings may not exist at the moment, it was all about just shutting each other up.

"I hate you," She murmured before going in for another kiss.

"I hate you more," His lips attached to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that were sure to bruise her.

"Well, I hate you the most, stop trying to be better than me." She snapped in a strained voice and he groaned out loud, pulling back to stare at her,

"How much money do I have to pay for you to shut up?"

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

Charles didn't win the next race, unfortunately. He was a bit happy that he didn't DNF, but the fact that the winner of the race was none other than his sworn enemy did little to comfort him. He glanced over to Max who was at P2, and looked around to the room to make sure that rat wasn't lurking nearby.

"W-What was the gap between you and her?" Charles asked. He knew asking would literally do him 0 help, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to know.

"I want to say around a good 20 seconds or so? Maybe a bit more, I wasn't too sure," Max responded, watching Charles sink deeper in his seat with a look of despair. He gulped, staring aimlessly onto the wall in front of him. How was she that fast? What had she done with the car overnight?

"I'm sorry for (Y/N) for the next few races," He heard her, loud and clear, as she entered the cooldown room, mocking him for what he said last weekend. Charles instantly glared at her, not even bothering to hide his true intentions. No amount of PR training could hide his disgust for her. She settled into her seat, relishing in the feeling of being the race winner.

"You do anything with your car?" Charles grunted, and she shook her head,

"No, no. I just have more skill," She flashed him a smile, before getting up once again to grab a bottle of water. Max, for once in his life, decided to be quiet in the room and see the argument follow through. He'd heard Charles tell him multiple times about how (L/N) got on his nerves, but seeing it in person would be amazing.

"I doubt that. You used to place below me during the races," Charles took a sip of his water.

"What are you insinuating then?" She snarled, and Max glanced over to the camera crew, signaling for them to leave. While this would do numbers for the ratings and news headlines, they were promised some share of money if they got their asses out.

"Um guys, I don't think we should be fighting, we have to cooldown anyway..." Max began, but his words fell onto deaf ears as Charles stood up from his seat to stalk over to where she stood.

"Maybe you'd be more likeable if you were honest with yourself, sometimes cheaters-" Charles began, standing his ground when she yelled back,

"So you think I cheated in this race? Seriously? That's your argument?"

"Well, we do know that last weekend there was water in your tires," Charles snapped,

"That wasn't my fault? Stop being such a sore loser, Leclerc. Maybe this is why you haven't won a championship yet."

Max's jaw dropped as he watched the words fly out of her mouth. Charles, in the meantime, tossed his water bottle to the ground and stepped closer to her with his finger in her face,

"At least I raced clean without losing grip when I tried to overtake someone. You just got lucky today, that's it."

"Luck, really? Yeah, tell me about your luck when you're fighting more with your teammate than with the other drivers on the grid during the race." She hissed.

Was it the air? Was it the fact that the adrenaline was still high after the race, or was it the fact that despite not being able to stand each other they were only centimeters apart. It didn't take long before Charles's hand dug into her scalp, pulling her head back ever so slightly as he kissed her. Seeing this as another challenge, (L/N) brought Charles down to the ground, both of them fighting to be on top while still furiously kissing each other. His hands gripped her waist and she had her arms around his neck, dragging him towards her as they rolled off of each other on the ground, tongues practically in each other's mouths with the intention of wanting to ruin each other. She scratched him, he yanked her hair, she punched his chest and he twisted her arm and yet their lips never stopped wanting to consume the other. It wasn't until (L/N) pulled away to breathe again did they both realize that Max was still there with a very shocked expression.

"I'm... I'm just going to leave and make sure uh no one else enters this room but uh guys you might want to... put yourself together before we get on the podium," Max had one hand covering his eyes as he walked out of the room.

"Do you think he's gonna tell people we just made out?" She asked, propping herself onto her elbows.

"I doubt it," Charles responded with a roll of his eyes, "I mean, who would go and loudly state that Charles Leclerc was kissing you of all people? I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

He winced when her hand smacked the back of his head.

𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣

Max never forgot. He never forgot anything. He had made a promise to himself that he would wipe that smirk off her face and he intended to keep it. Even with all the setbacks that he was facing this particular weekend. Back to back penalties, a grip drop and on top of all this, a very haughty (Y/N) (L/N) purposely bumping into him on the paddock with a bright smile,

"Have fun! I've always wondered how the view from the back would look like for you," She chirped, speeding past him on a scooter. Max's jaw went taut, and he did little to hide his anger for the rest of the day. He was going to make sure that the race tomorrow would haunt her for the rest of her life. She had chosen the wrong person to mess with and he was determined to prove it to her.

Max was on a different level during the race, he was unbelievably fast and it surprised everyone but mainly (Y/N) (L/N).

Her radio went off, and someone buzzed through, "Max is currently at P6, he's coming up behind you."

"What the hell?" Her voice was a bit quiet, still in disbelief at the fact that Max was now right behind her, "How does he do this?"

And before she can react further, she sees him overtake her as he flashed his middle finger at her before speeding off. That got her going, and despite the radio telling her to calm down and control her motions, she began to chase after Max. Her ego was bruised but surely she could redeem herself. Unfortunately, she lost grip and her car went spiraling out of control towards the barriers.

"A safety car will be deployed soon, Max," GP informed the driver.

"Who crashed?"

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

Max couldn't help the giggle that escaped his lips, and to quote Alonso he merely stated, "Karma..." before turning his radio off for the rest of the race.

By the time all the celebrations were done, Max walked past (L/N)'s garage and he noticed the way she was pouting, legs crossed as she was busy texting somebody. Her fingers flew across the screen, and it almost looked like she was about to cry. Max did feel a bit bad for her, he knew she had worked to get to where she was - she was after all the only female driver on the grid so she was talented. He walked over to her in the best hopes that he could try to make her feel better, I mean he wasn't a monster.

"Oh, look who's here, the ugly ass sloth who can't mind his own business," She sneered, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. Yeah, that was it. Max didn't want to comfort her anymore, he was going to stoop down to her level.

"You know, maybe if you learned to shut your mouth and admit your mistakes, you could've actually done well in the race today." He scoffed, towering over her. She stood up, going back to texting her friend with a scowl on her face.

"Texting your mechanics to help salvage what's left of the car?" Max snorted.

"No, I'm texting my friend about how some douchebag keeps talking to me like I even asked for him. Like why the hell are you even here? Go back to your own garage, asshole." She snapped, pocketing her phone. Max threw his backpack onto the ground besides her and took a step forward,

"You know I was going to be nice to you-"

"You said Karma over the radio, I heard that shit clearly," She hissed, stepping closer as well.

"I said it in the moment, but right now I was going to be nice. I was going to comfort you. You are talented, you're not a shit driver like I said you were, but God... your ego. Your stubbornness. Your... your absolute pathetic move to shift the blame onto someone else for your wrong doings. Get over yourself, you don't know shit about your own car and yet you always blame me for something during the race!"

"My car is completely fine before you wrecked it!"

"Oh, so that DNF last weekend was my fault? You rammed into me! Let's not forget that!" Max yelled, glancing over to the new shiny car that would be in use next weekend.

"Oi, eyes on me," She snapped her fingers in his face, grabbing his jaw to turn it to her, "Don't stare at my winning car."

Max yanked her hand from his jaw, glaring at her. Oh, he hated her. He hated her so much. Even when he wanted to be nice to her, she always found a way to ruin it. How was it possible for a woman as beautiful and genuinely talented as her to somehow always end up as the most annoying, stuck-up little piece of shit that he had ever seen? Within seconds, he had her against her "amazing" car with his lips onto her. She gasped in surprise, eyes darting to the corner of the garage to make sure all the mechanics had left, but considering the way Max was making her melt in his kiss, her worries soon faded away. Max had one hand pressing her down against the car, her back hit the edge of the halo and she groaned in pain, causing her to arch into him as he deepened the kiss. Her hands came to grip onto his shoulders as she bit down on his bottom lip, and she could feel him smiling against her.

"I wish you were like this every weekend," He whispered, delving into another kiss. She wrapped her hand in his hair, tugging him gently away from her,

"I hope you realize this is a one time occurrence. I have standards," She smirked.

"They must be pretty low then like your racing skills," Max snapped, kissing her once more as he felt her smirk fade against his lips. He really did mean it when he said he was going to wipe it off her face, he just never imagined it to be in this way.

"Shut up," She mumbled, "Just shut up."

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