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planetsano · 1 year ago

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synopsis ⌒ ⭑⭒ (name)! (name)! what’s it like being a water girl for blue lock 11? being the sweetest little mascot the whole team wants to put their cock in?

warnings ⌒ ⭑⭒ female reader, gang bang, orgy, group sex, double penetration (same hole, vaginal sex), anal sex, spit, oral sex (giving and receiving), squirting, mlm sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, love triangle, pining, very girly hyperfeminine reader, aged up characters, pro au, mdni.

pairing(s) ⌒ ⭑⭒ rin itoshi x reader x isagi yoichi (main), blue lock 11 x reader pairings, various x pairings.

word count ⌒ ⭑⭒ 11.2k.

Being Blue Lock 11’s water girl was honest work.

How (Name) got the job honestly wasn’t because of any credentials or any kind of degree to further her chances, but instead, she had a pretty face and the personality of a golden retriever puppy which made it very easy for her to become sort of a “personality hire.” Ego knew it was a position that had to be filled but he didn’t want to do it himself. The trivial and petty details needed to be taken care of and that’s exactly what she handles. Water Girl is the official title but these days you’ve almost become more like a personal assistant to the team in various ways.

(Name) has come a very long way since her very first day. It’s not that she was bad at her job per se— but she’s clumsy and a little.. airheaded. (Name) would often do things like trip over her own feet and send the things she was holding flying into the air. The sweet thing couldn’t help it too much. How could she? She was nervous and wasn’t the athletic type, never was, and never will be.

Now it’s been about a year since then and she’s a bonafide professional! Or so she likes to say.

Her morning started the same as any other, with the soft chimes of her pastel-colored alarm clock gently pulling her from dreamland. Stretching like a content kitten, she hopped out of bed, excited to start her extensive morning routine. The first stop was her vanity table, adorned with all sorts of makeup and skincare products. She giddily picked up her favorite rose-scented cleanser and began washing her face, humming a cheerful tune to herself.

After the refreshing cleanse, she moved on to the rest of her skincare routine, carefully applying toner, serum, and moisturizer, all infused with the latest beauty trends— she’s been on his K-beauty kick recently. With a smile, she looked at her glowing reflection in the mirror, already feeling ready for the day. Next came the fun part— makeup. She typically liked experimenting with different looks, and today’s theme was soft and flirty, with a touch of shimmer.

(Name) meticulously applied foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and a winged eyeliner. As the finishing touch, she added a glossy, bubblegum-pink lipstick to complete her signature look. She already had what she was wearing planned— her favorite pair of high-waisted, blush pink leggings that hugged her curves just right and a matching sports bra completed with a white, knitted cropped sweater. Simple, comfortable, and cute. There wasn’t much else to it.

(Name) was soon grabbing her car keys, the cutest keychain from her collection dangling from the D-ring. Her tote bag was slung over one shoulder, filled with her daily essentials like lip gloss, a compact mirror, a cute notebook, and her iPad. She held a large basket in her arms filled with goodies for the team. (Name) practically spent all night preparing everything! She worked hard on these cupcakes too.. they better enjoy them!

She headed out the door, hauling everything to her vehicle. As she approached her car, she couldn’t help but smile at the glossy black paint and the adorable heart-shaped air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. It looked significantly better after the repair— but it wasn’t her fault! That pothole was in her way.

Despite all that, she loved her car! Even though she wasn’t much of a car girl to begin with— decorating made her feel like she was driving in her little wonderland. However, she still needed to call her dad when the mechanic was speaking in literal tongues every time she went in for an oil change.

After loading everything into her car, she made sure to bring a tumbler of her favorite homemade French vanilla iced coffee, a protein bar in case she got hungry, and a playlist of her favorite songs ready to accompany her on the ride. As she buckled up and turned on the engine, she couldn’t resist taking a moment to check herself in the rearview mirror. Lip gloss tended to make its way on other parts of her face— so cute but messy at times.

Upon getting there, she types in the code to gain access to the training facility. The electronic lock emits a soft beep, and the heavy metal door slowly hisses open. Stepping inside, the air is noticeably cooler and filled with a faint hum of machinery. Fluorescent lights line the corridor, casting a sterile glow on the metallic walls. She made her way down the halls to her “office.” It was just a locker somewhere tucked away near the staff’s office.

Ego used to be able to tolerate her in his office but he ended up getting her area because he just couldn’t handle the chatterbox she was and the playful antics that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She was trouble and Ego was well aware. Her presence had a way of brightening up the most serious of situations and while some appreciated her for it, Ego found it a constant distraction. No matter how attractive she was.

Her locker was decorated with a collection of cute stickers, fairy lights, and a small potted plant. Fake, of course. She placed all her things in the space before heading to the team’s locker room. The automated light system turns on revealing rows of neatly arranged lockers, each placard with the team members’ names.

The hum of ventilation filled the air as she walked further in, her footsteps echoing off the polished tiles. The scent of fresh laundry and a hint of antiseptic cleaner lingered, creating a familiar and almost comforting atmosphere. She knew that within these walls, victories were celebrated and defeats were dissected. As she glanced around, memories of past games and silly stories flooded her mind, a small smile gracing her lips.

(Name) made her way through the rows of lockers, the soft, ambient light from the overhead fixtures casting gentle shadows. All boys got their small gift bag with items that were tailored to their personal preferences plus a cupcake she spent all night baking herself.

After that was all done, she grabbed the clipboard ornate with all sorts of cute stickers courtesy of her and notes scribbled on by the team with Blue Lock’s logo etched into the back. She went over the checklist for the day, as she stepped out of the locker room. It only took a few strides down the hallway to get to the equipment room, where a manicured finger grazed over assignment number one.

The first item on the list was to prepare the team’s water bottles. It usually consisted of making sure to fill their bottles with fresh, ice-cold water and lemon and then arrange them neatly in a cooler outside. Also filling up a “refill station” cooler that the team could use throughout practice.

It wouldn’t have been so much of a pain if it didn’t have been carried to the training field.

“Oh great.” She pouted softly. She had to do this all by herself? She can lift it but did she want to? No, her nails don’t have insurance. She looked at her Apple watch with furrowed brows, one of the early birds should be arriving soon...

“You need to stop leavin’ us this sugary shit all the time, princess,” Raichi says. He’s leaning up against the wide door frame, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the pink frosted cupcake up to his lips. Half of it is gone, clearly signaling he started devouring it on his way to the equipment room where she was.

“Jingo,” (Name) breathes out his name in a sugary and needy cadence— relief. Her voice is sweet like honey to Raichi’s ears but he’ll never say it to her face. There’s just something about the way she says his name that scratches a certain part spot in his brain and in return he finds himself feeling a particular way. He’s prickly because he’s 50/50 in his thoughts about her. On one hand, he’s almost certain that she knows exactly what she’s doing, and he can’t stand that her charms have this much of an effect on him. On the other hand, he’s not sure. There’s this doubt that she knows her effect and it pisses him off to no end that he can’t fully read her intent.

Usually, he can easily deem someone an “asshole” or not but when he looks at her, all Raichi is met with are these pretty eyes and he doesn’t see any hidden intent. It’s quite the opposite and in return, it evokes feelings of wanting to protect her. Raichi is quite the.. character though, everything must be difficult with him. It’s just in his chaos-inducing nature. His mental process is: she can’t not know how hot she is but there’s also this… air about her that makes people compelled to feel endeared by her. Simply making the notion of her using her visuals to essentially influence people to get what she wants goes against why the guys can’t help but dote on (Name).

He watches her stance as she dusts her hands together before aimlessly wiping her palms on the material of her pale pink Spanx. The look on her face screams damsel in distress— pretty pout on her glossy lips and her brows pinched in a furrow. (Name) didn’t catch what he said to her previously, clearly wrapped in her little conundrum of how she was going to get this to the field by herself before practice started.

“Can you help me, pretty please? It’s too heavy to lift on my own.” She says. He chooses to stay silent, merely looking at her with slightly raised brows as he finishes the last of the pink velvet dessert in his hand.

“Please? I made you cupcakes!” (Name) stomps her foot a bit, finding herself a little frustrated because her time was ticking and practice was starting in less than thirty minutes at this point. Ego liked to give her a hard time about her time management, even going as far as to mention a replacement if she “couldn’t get her act together.” It was an obvious scare tactic, he was just annoyed with her performance as it was not up to his standards. Everything under Ego’s ship had to be executed to his liking and he wouldn't settle for less.

“You made everyone cupcakes.” He deadpans as he balls the wrapper up and tosses it into a nearby can. His eyes trail back to hers after the fact.

“But that one was special because it had your name on it and I made it specially for you.” He can’t lie, she’s adorable. The way her demeanor is in the moment, slowly becoming more and more frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Not to mention the way she misuses the word— something she’s been saying for a while in the way she uses it so confidently.

“Specially?” He questions, pushing off the door frame so he can enter the room in its entirety. “It’s especially, you ditz.” He closes the gap between them, only leaving a couple of centimeters between their respective frames, and (Name) feels like she can feel his body heat radiating from him, she was always convinced that his blood ran hot just like his temperament. She doesn’t budge though, only continuing to stand her ground with the cutest little scrunched-nose smile. She was attempting to hold it back which made Raichi offer her the smallest bit of a smirk.

(Name) was a flirt and she was good at it.

“Move out of the way.” He mumbles surprisingly softly, his head tilted downward as he looks at her. He does so until he tears his eyes from hers to finally get his hands on the water cooler. Now that he has it, he sees that it may have been too heavy for her to carry by herself. Raichi lifts it with ease though, his biceps contracting as he does so. “Come on, I’m not hauling this shit outside for you by myself.”

As they walk side by side with each other down the empty hallway, Raichi’s eyes begin to drift to her more than he’d like. In the brief moments that it happens, his golden-yellow irises study his favorite parts of her face. The long lashes that seemed to flutter upon her upper cheeks with every blink she took, the cutest nose that she liked to put the tiniest bit of blush on, her pouty lips that were tinted with a light cherry shade— it made Raichi sick the way she so effortlessly made him feel. Despite her looks, there had been something irritating him; something that had been on his mind for a while he just couldn’t shake. Raichi was never the type to beat around the bush and become passive in his feelings. He would address this eventually when they’re met with the field.

The blond places the water cooler down in its designated spot at the end of the benches where the paper cups had been already placed.

“Hey,” Raichi calls for her, his expression unreadable as he looks at her.

“Hm?” (Name) looks at him with curiosity, her hands shading her eyes from the sun and her lips parted slightly.

“Is it true you’re fuckin’ Isagi?” He has no shame in the question but it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock from his lack of general etiquette to begin with.

“You! Are such a guy, Jingo!” She says incredulously, giving him a playful shove to his shoulder.

“What? It’s a question.” His brows are low, not finding an ounce of humor in his query.

“Isagi is sweet.” She responds.

“That ain’t what I asked you.” Raichi raises a brow.

“Why does it matter, huh?” (Name) lets out a little laugh, tilting her head a bit.

“It matters because I’m askin’ you.”

By this point, it was no real secret that quite a few of the guys harbored feelings for (Name) over time. She was just too good at what she did. Her bubbly personality and genuine kindness leave an endless trail of admirers in her wake.

The way she interacted with each member of the team made them feel special as if they were the only ones in the room. Her charisma was magnetic and drew people in effortlessly. Her “innocent” flirtations, the playful twinkle in her eyes, her infectious laughter— it had a way of making the guys’ hearts race.

“Oi, oi, oi. Less talking, more working.” Tabito whistles at the two as he approaches them, a few more boys trickling in behind him.

“Shut up, dickwad.” Raichi quips.

“No fighting, please.” (Name) sighs as she lifts a sheet on her clipboard.

“Hey.” Tabito’s voice rang out as he sauntered over to where (Name) stood not too far from Raichi.

She glanced up, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Hi, Tabito.”

He stretched his arms outward casually, his arms folded across his chest. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Mmm, nothin’—” (Name) replied with an innocent shrug, her eyes sparkling upward at him as she grinned down at her.

Raichi rolls his eyes at the interaction, choosing to lace up his cleats. His nasty expression contradicted the light-hearted banter in the room. He watched as (Name) and Tabito exchanged playful words, his gaze flickering between them and the task at hand.

As the banter continued, Raichi’s mind wandered back to the countless moments he had witnessed between (Name) and the other guys on the team. He couldn’t deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him, though he did a good job at keeping his emotions hidden behind his rough exterior. It seemed as though it were the Hunger Games when it came to (Name), and she was the prized gem whether she realized it or not. Raichi had a hunch that he wasn’t the only one who’d been smitten with this broad— for a while.

The boys continued to trail in one by one, sometimes in pairs like Reo and Nagi. But (Name) continued to do her daily checklist without issue as they all became settled— doing warm-ups until Ego showed up.

Practices were usually easier to handle than official games. It’s understandable; there’s high pressure and strain put on the players which essentially makes (Name)’s job, a real job. Tending to their personal needs was all that mattered as far as she was concerned. She had witnessed the team’s transition from practices to official games countless times, each time realizing just how much pressure and strain the players were under. Her role extended beyond just providing physical support; she was there to offer emotional support as well, ease pre-game nerves, and make sure that each player was mentally prepared to give their best on the field. Men are typically.. less in tune with their emotions than women are. It helps.

(Name) had taken on the role of the Blue Lock’s unofficial mascot because of this, particularly in Bachira’s eyes. However, there was a not-so-subtle undercurrent of aggression amongst some of the guys and Bachira. he had a way of hugging and showering her with affection that seemed innocent and endearing, but those who knew him well were aware that he knew exactly what he was doing. He expertly played the role of an adorable puppy causing a bit of mischief— something everyone adored, yet his intentions were akin to a mischievous younger sibling sticking their tongue out at their older sibling behind their mom’s back, knowing full well the game he was playing.

“(Nickname)!” Bachira says in a sing-song tone as he approaches from behind, covering her eyes with his hands. He gives her a cute smile as he looks at her from over her shoulder. “Guess who?”

“Bachi?” Her little name for him makes his heart skip a beat, an excitable giggle leaving his lips as he uncovers her eyes. She turned to face him and couldn’t help but smile as Bachira enveloped her in a warm embrace, their cheeks pressed together in a hug. His personality was contagious, and his affectionate demeanor always managed to tickle her spirits.

“Pretty, pretty girl~♡” Bachira’s playful tone made her smile softly, the endearing nickname earning a sweet laugh from her. She takes his face into her hands, smiling as she squishes his cheeks together.

“Weren’t you supposed to tone your hair a couple of days ago?” (Name) teased, an amused glint in her eyes as she ran a hand through his bangs— the color still a brassy yellow shade.

Bachira’s expression turned sheepish, and he scratched the back of his head with a bashful grin. “Ah, yeah, about that… I kind of forgot about it~ I need your help. I’m not good at this stuff like you. Come over and help me.” Before she could answer, she’d been cut off by a familiar voice.

“Come over without me too, Meguru? Cheating on me right in front of my face?” (Name) and Bachira both turned to find Isagi, walking over with a small smile on his face.

“Yoichi! Hi,” (Name) said, her voice sounding almost dreamlike as she greeted him. Her heart raced in her chest as she looked at him, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement wash over her— good and tingly feelings all over.

No doubt about it, Isagi held a special place in her heart. Raichi's intuition was spot on, their bond was undeniable. They enjoyed their time together; both.. inside and outside the bedroom. However, it wasn't an official relationship per se. They danced on the fine line between friendship and something more, both enjoying the freedom that came with it.

Honestly, it was a connection built on physical attraction initially, and over time a genuine care for one another formed, making it all the more sticky especially for (Name) for.. various reasons. Isagi was the kind of person who could effortlessly bring a smile to her face and warmth to her heart, she felt like she was a little girl in school again. Something exciting to keep her anticipating what’s to happen next. It also helped that Isagi was cute as a button.

It happened at an after-party of a press conference nearly half a year ago— the drinks had been going and the two had gotten very close as the night progressed. All it took was a single look at him through her lashes and one too many flirty touches left on his arms and chest. He asked if she wanted to leave early and she agreed without a second thought. Of course, they played it off nicely, leaving not at once but one by one about ten minutes apart. Isagi fucked all her sorrows away, leaving both of them tangled into the sheets breathless. It’s been like this ever since but, Yoichi does have plans.

“Don’t hog (Name) all to yourself!” Bachira punched his shoulder, his tone had a teasing lilt to it.

“I don’t hog her, you little..-” Isagi reached over to put him in a light headlock, the both of them giggling and playing like they were still kids at recess. She smiled as she looked on at the two, feeling grateful that they found each other when they did.

(Name) looked over her shoulder and happened to lock eyes with the ever-so-brooding captain of the team: Rin Itoshi. Her smile falters a bit, brows pinched in a displeased furrow as a heavy feeling settles in her chest, leaving her feeling a bit helpless. She didn’t like the feeling— she didn’t like it at all. She was a relatively happy girl who didn’t like being taken out of character, she prided herself in that.

“So, (Name), are we helping Bachira with his hair today?” Isagi asked, his curiosity piqued. His voice held a hint of playfulness, but underneath, there was a trace of vulnerability. He’d been testing the waters—wanting to see whether or not he could crash this little “private party.”

As he spoke, Isagi’s eyes flickered between (Name) and Bachira, trying to gauge their reactions. His grin, although friendly, was subtly tinged with an edge. It wasn’t just curiosity driving him; it was jealousy that simmered just beneath the surface. In the moments that followed, Isagi’s body language revealed more than just his words. He subtly moved closer to (Name), not wanting to be left out of the conversation or, more importantly, her attention.

“Huh..?” She turns her head back to Isagi and Bachira, shaking her head as if she’d been trying to snap out of something. But Isagi had already noticed that she seemed off like she was bothered by something or rather someone.

“Oh, sure— if Bachi doesn’t mind.” There’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. By this point, Bachi managed to wriggle free of Isagi and made his way over to talk to Nagi and Reo who weren’t too far from where they stood.

“Hey,” Yoichi calls for her gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m okay.” She answers as she nods her head. Her smile seems more genuine this time, not like before a few seconds ago. Maybe she’s managed to suppress whatever she had been feeling— a fleeting wave of emotion only elicited by a trigger.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, his voice lowering an octave or two. He just barely takes a step closer, pretty blue eyes filled with worry.

“No, Isagi,” she answered delicately, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of her hair. “Why would I be upset with you?”

Isagi's concern deepened as he noticed her anxious gesture. He reached out, gently touching her arm. “Just making sure..”

(Name) glanced down at his hand on her arm, a fleeting moment of comfort in his touch. She sighed and looked away, her gaze fixating on a nearby bench.

“Is it about him?” Isagi asked.

“What?” Her brows furrowed and she followed his gaze to the distant figure of Rin. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Is it about him?”

“I'm not talking about this right now, Isagi,” (Name) replied, her eyes returning to Isagi's, a mixture of emotions swirling within them. They were narrowed, threatening him silently. It had been an almost incredulous expression as if she couldn’t believe that he was choosing to carelessly bring this up right now of all times. Isagi was a smart boy, he knew to leave it. (Name) kept a leash on him in a way, despite the sweetness of her demeanor and face— she was capable of having a mean streak.

As the team was immersed in their practice drills, the words hung in the air like an unspoken echo.

“Isagi!” Reo calls him over, both her and Isagi looking over to where the trio stood.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Isagi says, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he gives her a final glance before jogging away.

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The training facility buzzed with energy as the team went through their practice drills, Blue Lock’s technology seamlessly integrated into every aspect of their training. The walls of the facility were adorned with holographic screens that displayed real-time data and strategy simulations. The air was filled with a familiar sense of intensity only they understood as the team, focused on honing their skills for the upcoming game.

As the practice session neared its end, (Name) caught sight of Ego observing from a distance. He stood by a large holographic display, analyzing the players’ performance metrics. They managed to exchange eye contact which is when Ego signaled to (Name) to come where he stood. She nodded in acknowledgment and made her way past the field. She’ll never get over just how tall he is in comparison to her as she practically cranes her neck to look up at him.

“See me in my office in five minutes.” He requested, adjusting his glasses further onto his face with his middle finger. Ah, he was so intimidating sometimes— especially when his glasses had a glare. Ego was nice enough to her though, even if he was a little scary.

“Okay!” She nods quickly as he dismisses himself, barely giving her enough time to acknowledge his request.

Reo had been watching the exchange from a distance and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her— he walked over a piece of minty gum being chewed by his pearly whites. With a grin, he asked, “In trouble?”

(Name) giggled at his words. “I hope not,” she replied.

He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if you need someone to come to your rescue, you know where to find me,” he said, popping his gum. “You know how intense Ego can be.”

She matched Reo’s gaze, tilting her head, and offered a gentle pat on his cheek. It was how seemingly ignorant she was about little things like eye contact; a historically intimate, sometimes even taboo action. Reo recognized that he was flirting quite openly, fully aware of it. However, her natural charm had him feeling somewhat.. disoriented one could say. He’s almost certain that she wasn’t picking up on his advances but rather, she was just being herself. Reo felt like he was out of his league, realizing he needed to step up his game to get his point across.

“I'll remember that,” she replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. As Reo pondered how to navigate her, (Name) continued the conversation with a hint of innocence that seemed to come naturally to her.

“So, Mr. Shining Armor,” she began, a playful twinkle in her eye, “If I ever need, like, an alibi or something, you’d totally have my back, right?”

Reo grinned. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’d hire you a lawyer if you really needed it, but you’re a good girl, no? You wouldn’t even need an alibi to begin with.”

A playful pout formed on (Name)’s lips as she huffed out her cheeks and stomped her foot in playful protest. “Says who! I can hang with the best of them!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve got about two minutes to get to Ego’s office.” He says matter of factly.

“What! You’re lying!” Her demeanor shifted to one of mild panic as she glanced at the time on her wristband. With a swift and almost comical spin, she hurriedly dashed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. “I’ll talk to you soon!”

She made her way to Ego’s office, knocking briskly before letting herself in. His office was a blend of sleek design and advanced functionality. The walls had the same interactive screen she had seen earlier. The AI was amazing, she had never seen anything like it until she landed this job. It was capable of anything it seemed, projecting game footage, tactical analysis, and real-time player stats that all just scratched the surface of it. Ego pulled up her “profile” one day, it had information that she didn’t even give consent to give out. Weird? Yes, but she’s seen worse since she started here.

As she entered, the screens adjusted to her presence, dimming slightly as if they were on standby mode. Ego stood at his desk, which was more like a command center with all of the digital interfaces and gesture controls. He motioned for her to take a seat, and she obliged, settling into a chair near to his own. Ego’s gaze met hers, his usually stern expression softened slightly by the bluish hues of the various screens.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important, (Name).” She listened attentively as Ego spoke to her.

“A very important game is near, so I need you on your A-game, (Name),” Ego said, making her furrow her brows just a bit in curiosity. “Yes, you’re the appointed water girl; however, you’ll also have other duties such as acting as an.. on-call personal assistant of sorts. I need you to keep them happy and stress-free no matter how ridiculous their requests are.”

“Requests?” She blinks at him and tilts her head.

“Yes.” He didn’t seem as though he was willing to explain. Ah, of course. Ego never liked to be questioned anyway.

She let out a sigh but her usual warm smile appeared once again as she reassured him, “You can count on me, Ego! ” A cute smile grew on her lips, and she saluted him playfully. Ego’s eyes rolled at the gesture, though a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

“Alright, enough theatrics,” he said, his stern exterior softening just a touch as he adjusted his frames. “I trust you, (Name).”

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The final whistle blew on the starry-lit soccer field, the tension of the intense match at an all-time high as Blue Lock emerged victorious. The crowd roared with excitement and the stadium lights illuminated the scene like a grand stage. The team had just delivered a performance for the ages. The players had gathered in the center of the field, their eyes still shining with the intensity of the match— the pure satisfaction and euphoria coursing through their veins. It felt as though the energy surrounding them had been visible, deep blue. Signifying power, confidence, and authority. All things that they had been representing in that very moment as they went home with the win, the opposing team had long since exited the field leaving Blue Lock to celebrate amongst themselves.

They all exchanged sloppy hugs and high-fives, congratulating each other on a game well played— jumping on each other and dog piling on top of one another.

Isagi couldn't tear his gaze away from (Name) who had been working just as tirelessly throughout the game— an essential presence on the sidelines throughout the night. Her eyes sparkled with pride and admiration as she watched them all celebrate their triumph. Her hands had been interlocked with Anri’s own as they cutely jumped with each other. Both were so excited as Ego stood not too far next to them looking as pleased as he possibly could look for him, his hands had been placed in his pockets with an odd posture. It’s not long before he’s exiting himself amongst all the chaos.

Amid the post-game frenzy, Isagi felt an overpowering surge of emotion. Ignoring the paparazzi cameras and the cheering crowd, he made his way to (Name) on the sidelines. He had no clue what he was doing, his feet seemingly moving on their own as he grew closer and closer to where she stood.

With the world as their witness, he gently took her by the hand and pulled her close, their hearts beating in sync but her reasoning with the excitement of the victory and Isagi’s because he was about to put everything on the line.

“Isa..?” (Name)’s voice has always been sweet but he thought it sounded more sugary when she said his name.

With the stadium lights casting a halo around them, Isagi looked deeply into (Name)’s eyes and was swept away by the heat of the moment: he kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as they locked lips.

As Isagi closed the gap between them, his breath hitched, and he could feel the warmth of (Name)’s breath on his lips. Their faces drew nearer, eyes closing in unison, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. His hand, trembling ever so slightly, cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing her skin as he tilted her head gently.

(Name)’s lips were soft and inviting, meeting his with a tender, tentative touch. It was a gentle exploration, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. Isagi’s heart raced as he felt the electric spark of their connection. He could taste the sweet excitement of the victory on her lips, mixed with the saltiness of the sweat on his lips from the intense game.

Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and longing. Isagi’s other hand found its place on the small of (Name)’s back, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed together, fitting like two halves of a whole.

The kiss deepened, and their tongues met— a gentle and passionate duel as if they were pouring every ounce of their emotions into this single, stolen moment.

As their lips moved in sync with one another, a hush seemed to fall over the stadium, even amidst the continued celebrations. The two were lost in the intensity of their kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the heat of the moment.

The paparazzi were momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection but they quickly recovered, cameras capturing the raw, unfiltered emotion that flowed between one of the star players and the sweet little water girl. The team began to realize what was happening soon after, confused looks on some, angry expressions on others, and a few who just seemed to be happy for Isagi. The stadium had long since erupted in a new wave of cheers and applause.

Isagi eventually pulled away from her lips, breathless and flushed but wearing a smile that spoke volumes.

“Yoichi..?” She blinks up at him, finding it hard to process what had just happened and more importantly, what it all means. “What was that?”

“I want everyone to know that I want you.” He confessed.

The aftermath of Isagi and (Name)’s intimate moment hung in the air, a delicate whisper during the fading cheers in the stadium. However, the serene atmosphere shattered abruptly as (Name)’s desperate cries pierced through the celebratory echoes. The transition from the warmth of the kiss to the chilling urgency in (Name)’s voice unfolded like a sudden storm.

“Rin—! Rin you’re hurting me! Rin Itoshi! Let me go!” The harsh urgency in (Name)'s voice resonated through the narrow hallway, her plea filled with both physical pain and emotional distress. She struggled to keep her footing, her feet almost stumbling as she tried to keep up with Rin's determined strides. The locker room loomed ahead, its cold, metallic door reflecting the dim light from a flickering overhead bulb.

Rin’s face was a tumultuous sea of emotions. Anger and frustration bubbling at the surface that almost always remained cool and collected, made him deaf to the celebration’s distant echoes. His fingers clamped around (Name)’s upper arm like an unyielding vice, pulling her along a path she desperately wished to escape from. The last thing she wanted was to fight but it was clear that not only had the festivities been forgotten in Rin's mind, but any chance of him enjoying them had been cruelly dashed. Not like he was the celebration type anyway.

The tension crackled like static electricity in the space between them. Despite the lingering thrill of the victory, the atmosphere inside the locker room weighed heavily upon them, contrasting sharply with the post-game excitement. Amidst the disarray of his teammates’ gear, Rin’s voice dripped with frustration as he confronted (Name).

“You, should really fucking know better, (Name).” Rin’s penetrating gaze remained fixed upon her, the tension palpable between them. (Name) looked upset and disheveled as looked up at him, never once backing away from his gaze. She shot back with a voice trembling with exasperation and frustration, “What do you want me to do, Rin? You don't want to be my boyfriend, but you get angry with me when I get attention from someone who actually wants to be with me! In public!”

Rin's jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in response to her words— clearly, she’s been talking about Isagi. Rin wasn’t stupid, not that they had been trying to hide it well to begin with. “Isagi of all people.”

(Name) couldn't contain her anger any longer, her voice raising as she spoke. She made sure to point a mean finger at him, poking his chest as she did so. “Don't talk about him like that. As if you treat me better than him. You’re crazy!”

Just as the tension reached its height, the locker room door swung open, revealing bewildered-looking teammates as they all trickled into the room. They heard a commotion coming from inside and decided to investigate. Although they had all been listening piled on top of each other seconds before Isagi finally pushed through.

“Did we walk in on somethin'?” Raichi asked. (Name) and Rin exchanged conflicted glances, gazes torn between the intensity of the game and the unresolved issues in their relationship. Rin looked particularly unbothered by the exchange though, it should be a talent with how he can keep his demeanor a thorough constant even in the most stressful situations. Most of the time.

“Yes!” (Name) exclaimed, but Rin quickly retorted. “No,”

“What’s going on?” Isagi asked, closing the gap between him and her. He had a worried look on his face as he looked down at her.

“Nothing, we just had a discussion is all.” She answered.

“No. Let them know what’s mine is mine.” Rin stated, causing her heart to skip a beat. She hated that— her heart often betrayed her brain so often, especially when it came to Rin. She was mad at him!

“Excuse me?” Isagi tilted his head, brows furrowed as he took a step closer in Rin’s direction.

“Please, not right now. We just won a big game..” (Name) said, her voice carrying a heavy solemnity as though she were deeply concerned. She absolutely couldn’t stand when they fought. When any of them fought, really. Rin’s jaw clenched again, but he refrained from saying more for the moment, his gaze locked onto Isagi. It’s at that moment when Rin takes his hand and grabs a hold of her face, turning her head towards him and planting a sloppy kiss right on her mouth— an act that shows his possession of her.

The locker room fell silent as they watched this display of affection, leaving everyone, including Isagi, momentarily stunned.

(Name) blinked in astonishment, her cheeks hot, and her heart raced. She didn’t expect such a public display of affection from Rin, especially during their argument. His actions spoke volumes, and despite the tension that had filled the room, there was a sense of raw passion in that kiss.

Rin finally pulled away from the kiss, his intense gaze still locked onto (Name), as if daring anyone to challenge his claim. It was a bold move, one that left no doubt about his feelings, even if it had created an even more complicated situation.

(Name), her voice shaky but filled with a mix of emotions, whispered to Rin, “You didn’t have to do that..”

In a bold move of Isagi’s own, he closed the distance between himself and (Name), taking her face gently in his hands, and he leaned in to kiss her. The locker room seemed to hold its breath as Isagi’s lips met (Name)’s in a tender kiss.

Isagi felt his body respond immediately to her kiss, his cock hardening against his leg. He could feel her soft lips pressing against him, and he could hear her whine softly into the kiss. Maybe it’d been the heat of the moment, but being watched— having all eyes on him as he essentially marked his territory had him reeling. It felt similar to being on the field.. having someone feel threatened by his very sense of self only for him to claim the goal as his. This felt no different.

“I—” (Name) stood in the center of the room at a loss for words, her heart torn between the two men who both held a special place in her life. She could feel the intensity of the emotions radiating from Rin and Isagi, their heated argument having morphed into something far more complex. The situation had already taken an unexpected turn, and the tensions between Rin and Isagi were undeniable. Rin reached out for (Name) but Isagi acted on the same instinct— both of the men simultaneously closed the distance between themselves and (Name), their lips meeting hers in a kiss that’d been rather rough and unpoetic.

The room descended into a breathless hush as the trio partook in an impassioned, electrifying kiss. It was a tempest of emotions and longings, where Rin and Isagi’s competitive spirits transcended the realm of sport, now manifested in the fervor of their lips upon (Name)’s. Each kiss was an assertion of ownership, a silent declaration of their claim on her heart.

Unspoken desires smoldered beneath the surface, like coiled embers ready to ignite. Both Isagi and Rin may have carried a secret yearning for one another, one that was concealed beneath the shadow of their shared affection and feelings for (Name) and their ongoing rivalry. Perhaps it was a whirlwind of emotions, a silent tug-of-war between jealousy and attraction. Neither dared utter the truth if there were any, and yet deep down there existed an unspoken curiosity about what it would be like to bridge the divide that separated them.

Past the competition, their emotions churned frequently with high ups and low lows. With frustration intertwined, it blurred the fine lines that separated friendship and rivalry. Hours spent together on and off the soccer field had woven a tapestry of connection, a bond that transcended the boundaries of just being teammates but friends. The bond, though sometimes frayed by the throes of their shared affection for (Name), added another intricate layer of complexity to their relationship. It was as if they constantly teetered on the precipice of something more. But truthfully? Neither of them wanted to even entertain the thought. Or so they tell themselves.

The remaining teammates were initially taken aback, exchanging enigmatic glances among themselves. Some wore the cloak of astonishment, while others concealed their intrigue behind veils of confusion. A few remained adrift in the sea of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tempestuous waters of this unexpected turn.

The locker room that was once heavy with tension and discord, had metamorphosed into a simmering crucible of passion and desire. The air itself seemed to shimmer with the intensity of their emotions, like molten steel in a crucible, forging something new from the raw elements of longing and affection.

The taste of desire and longing hung heavy in the air, and what had begun as a spontaneous act was now evolving into something far more passionate and consuming. As the trio’s kiss deepened, the locker room seemed to pulse with an almost palpable energy. The boundaries between all of them blurred, and for that suspended moment in time, it seemed as though everyone knew where this was heading.

Rin’s hands moved to cup her breasts upward, pushing them together before harshly pulling down the babydoll pink top to expose her bra.

“R—! Rin!” It was similar to a chirp, the way (Name) said his name. She looked breathless with her lips glossy with a mix of both Rin and Isagi’s DNA— oh, shedding flustered. Like a sweet little rabbit who got her cottontail pulled by a big bad wolf.

“Shut up.” Is the only thing he muttered into her neck as his large hands continued to grope her.

“Is this really okay, Captain?” Isagi asked, blue irises narrowed deliberately trying to evoke an emotion out of Rin by using his title.

Rin pulled away from her, his chest heaving as he met Isagi’s intense gaze. “It’s not like they haven’t been thirsting after her like mutts.” Rin retorted his voice low and possessive, a defiant challenge in his words.

Rin’s next response was a sly, almost wicked statement. “Give them a show,” he whispered, his words laced with provocation as he locked onto Isagi's gaze, fully aware of the effect his words would have on their audience.

The next moments for (Name) seemed to blur into a haze. Time lost its meaning as she found herself caught between Rin and Isagi— Isagi’s hand found its way to her throat from where he stood behind her. Slender fingers wrapped around her delicate and sensitive neck while Rin’s hands roamed.

“Look at what you did..” Isagi presses his erection into her, his thick shaft snug against the pillowy softness of her ass.

“Yoichi..” She gasped softly, brows furrowed as she was directed to look upward.

“Yoichi..” Isagi mocks her softly, his own voice going up an octave. “Shh. You’re real quiet..” Isagi whispers directly into her ear, his breath hot and shaky as he speaks to her in a lower tone— his words sending a shiver down her spine. His tone, honeyed in arousal and heat, carried a note of urgency that left her heart pounding. “This is how you act with him?” His question held a weight of not only a weight desire but possessiveness; and jealousy.

“She knows her place and her limits,” Rin answered for her as his fingertips skillfully unclasped the heart clip that held her bra together. (Name)’s tits had a delicious drop under their weight, her buds hardened rather quickly not only because of Rin’s stimulation but the temperature in the locker room had been chilly.

Bachira virtually had no qualms about palming himself through his shorts, his cock stiff with a perverted little expression on his face as he watched the scene unfold. Truth be told, this isn’t the first time he’s done something depraved like this. See, Bachira had a bit of a fixation on voyeurism and exhibitionism. It was almost as if he was in the room by himself, enjoying his sight before of him like he were at home watching the perverse bookmarks on his burner account on Twitter. This to him was even more of a treat— not only does he get to watch but he gets the luxury of having others watch him.

“See what your effect is on all of these perverts?” Rin asks, his voice low against her ear. “And yet you still walk around clueless, these little skirts and small tops.”

Isagi makes the next move with hands sliding down behind her waist where fingertips unzip the back of her skirt. His thumbs hook into the material of both her mini and the panties she wore, pulling both garments down in haste.

“Fuck me.” Raichi groaned, he put up a desperate attempt to hold onto whatever sanity he did have but he hasn’t gotten laid in weeks and this is probably as close to (Name)’s pussy as he was going to get. So help him god if any of this gets out to the press he’s going to fucking lose it. He starts palming himself through his shorts too, only gaining the courage to actually pull himself out when he catches a glimpse of Bachira who had been holding his cock at its base, rubbing his frenulum with the pad of his fingertip. Its head was leaky— comically so as it dripped slowly onto the floor below him where he stood. Raichi spits into his hand before he wraps it around him, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking himself slowly. His balls are heavy, it's embarrassing to say that he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to be the first guy to cum, especially in this kind of situation.

The room had been filled with breathy moans and explicit sounds and statements as they all became meshed together in, let’s not mince words: an orgy.

Reo and Nagi seemed to have fallen into their solace between each other, lips locked in a fervent kiss as their clothed clothes rubbed against each other, it wasn’t very long before they’d been frotting bare against each other. Yukimiya follows in both Raichi and Bachira’s footsteps by pulling out his cock and jerking himself off, imagining that (Name) was the one who was touching him, kissing him, making him cum anywhere he wanted to.

Isagi’s mouth is hot on (Name)’s cunt as she sits on the bench, her legs propped up on either side of her to keep her legs open and spread. His pointer finger and middle spread her lips apart as his tongue delves into the heart of her sweet pussy, causing rivulets of her sticky essence to drip down his chin. Isagi was always a messy eater— he was one of those types who liked to eat pussy for his pleasure. He could be between her legs for hours if she let him but she gets a little restless because she ends up wanting to get fucked after her second orgasm on his tongue. Isagi and Rin were different in that regard. It’s not because Rin didn’t want to or like foreplay: he just preferred to fuck because he could do it for hours when time permits.

Rin looks down at her while she holds his hard cock in her hand. Her tongue feels warm, slippery, and wet as she circles it around his cockhead. He watches her build up her momentum as she starts to suck on it instead— she always did this and that alone would make him cum if she tried but she makes it a point to prove she can swallow him whole without gagging. (Name) says it feels more rewarding when he can cum down her throat too— it’s probably what she was working towards right now, slowly taking him inch by inch. She knows her limits though it seems because she’s using her hands with what she can’t get down to.

Rin thinks he likes this position: he’s standing over Isagi in both a literary and metaphorical sense. He’s on his knees serving his girlfriend while she focuses all her attention on him— doing her best to make him feel good. Rin’s compliance to all of this carries a certain weight of unresolved tensions, it feels more like a means of control than the genuine connection between Isagi or any other teammate in this locker room. In Rin’s head, he’s doing them a favor. He tosses a mere glance at the rest, eyes focused on the depraved displays of lust in front of him.

“..Shit. That feels good.” Tabito’s eyes are closed shut as Chigiri’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock and Hiori licks up and down his shaft. The redhead’s looking up at Tabito through lash lines that seem a little too feminine— he’s holding a piece of his hair tucked behind his ear as he slowly envelops Tabito’s growing cock. Hiori’s hands are both wrapped around his shaft and Chigiri’s as they work along Tabito’s cock, often meeting at the top of his cock to share a wet tongue kiss.

Tabito didn’t think he could get any harder but here he is now, trying not to blow his load prematurely all in their pretty mouths. There’s a part of Tabito that feels a small amount of shame— or perhaps something akin to embarrassment as he gets his cock sucked. Maybe it’s the overall absurdity of the situation: the entire team getting essentially cucked by the water girl everyone wants to be balls deep in and the two dickheads who have had a one-up on them all the entire time. Another reason is probably because he’s one of those men who prides himself in being an Alpha male of sorts— bragging about how many women he can pull but once again, here he is getting his cock sucked on by two pretty boys.

Isagi’s lips encircle her clit, applying gentle suction as he slips his pointer and middle into her slit. Warm walls encompass his digits as he rocks them a certain way he knows she likes. (Name) is already finding it difficult to focus on sucking Rin off with Isagi between her legs like this. Her free hand finds its way into Isagi’s hair, giving him a gentle grip as she tries to ground herself. As he continues to suck on her sensitive bud, his actions become more fervent— sloppier and more urgent. Isagi could feel her insides twitching along his fingers, that’s why. She’s close and he wants to be the first one to make her cum in front of everyone. (Name) can’t help but tear her lips away from Rin’s cock, her hand continuing to jerk him off as she looks down at Isagi.

“I’m—!” She nearly chokes on her cry as she feels the initial push over the edge— then the dips come and she’s shaking. “—cumming, I’m cumming..!” (Name) repeats over and over again as she basks in the complete and total absence of control she has over her body in that very moment. It’s pretty— it's so pretty. She almost looks helpless but the sounds she’s making are making them spin. Isagi’s mouth is still attached to her core, following her body as she moves around. She rides out her high like this and Isagi only pulls away when he’s satisfied.

“Hah.. dammit..” Baro has been keeping to himself this whole time. The interesting thing about him is that he’s really a gentleman. He’s never been in a situation like this before but he’s also never been this turned on in his life. Baro also just learned that he likes to watch, his cock has been twitching in his thigh for almost thirty minutes. He’s making a mess in his boxer briefs because he can feel himself getting wet. The way his cock is jumping is enough friction to cause stimulation, when (Name) cums, he has to grab himself at his base to keep him from cumming. Baro looks down at himself, pulling up the inseam of his shorts and underwear to let the tip of his cock peek out. It jumps again, the cool air hitting its shiny and glistening tip as it drools. Precum leaking onto the floor.

The trio shifts their positions so that Rin is lying on the bench while (Name) straddles him, sheathing his cock at its hilt— Rin’s hands on her ass as she adjusts to him. It’s been a while since she’s had him because of a little disagreement they had. Well, in actuality it was everything but little. They hadn’t been “seeing” each other for the past couple of weeks as they usually do because of Rin’s.. approach to how he handles certain things. Specifically when it comes down to having conversations involving emotions and how to deal with them in healthy and effective ways. The “what are we” conversation didn’t go as she’d planned for it to be. He gave her a vague response that resolved nothing which in turn made her spiral, but it’s not like she��s some sort of loose canon. She had her moments, yes.. but when it came to Rin he brought something nasty out in her that only he could.

“Don’t look at me,” (Name) says softly, her voice carrying a tone of resentment that holds no real weight as she grabs his face to make him look in another direction. Isagi is behind her as he prods his cock between her supple ass cheeks, ever so gently pressing the tip onto her puckered hole. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips when he saw how she jolted upwards, reaching behind her to shoo him away from that part of her.

“Hng— Isagi, not there. It’s been too long..” (Name) looks at him from over her shoulder. Isagi thinks she looks cute like that: brows pinched in a furrow with a pout on her lips she doesn’t even know she’s sporting. That’s alright. Her pussy seemed more appealing anyway, even if Rin’s cock had already been working its way into her. It was going to be nearly impossible to try to squeeze himself into her, Rin was already big admittedly— the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But Isagi the issue here was that he didn’t like sharing. He leans over, lips connecting to her neck in a sweet kiss.

“Then can you take both in here..?” Isagi’s fingers gently brush against the same pussy that was currently stuffed with Rin’s cock. Isagi almost wanted to scoff— it was big and she was tight enough to make her grip around his shaft. He hated how much his cock was drooling, it was almost a little embarrassing.

“No, Yoichi.. I don’t think I can fit both.” She says. “I’m not prepped at all, pervert..” Her eyes are closed in a hum, as she reaches to hold the back of his neck into place while Rin plays with her clit. His eyes are low and lidded as they hone in on the precious little flower between her legs. He’s starting to move now, slowly, but he’s gotten a bit impatient. The fluttering around his dick isn’t helping either— he’s almost entirely tuned out everyone else.

“Then you’re going to try, right? For me?” Isagi pressed another kiss into her skin and his eyes flickered upward and over to Bachira who had seemingly inched his way over to the three, a bright-eyed look in his eye as he looked at (Name) like she was a pretty prize, adorned with the wrapping paper and bow. Rin gives him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye but doesn’t say anything. Rin tolerated Bachira more than other players for whatever reason. Unfortunately, he thinks that Bachira may have grown on him over time. Rin would never admit that but he’s sure if it had been anyone else, he’d be beside himself but Bachira isn’t touching her so it’s acceptable.

“Meguru,” Isagi hums. He reaches around to grab a hold of her face to make her look at Bachira, placing another kiss on her cheek. “She’s so pretty, right? Prettier than the last time, you think?” Isagi looks over at him again with a knowing grin.

Last time.. that was supposed to be a secret between the three of them. Now she’s feeling embarrassed and a little bit like a slut. But it was a one-time thing! That night they were supposed to be toning Bachi’s hair, they had a little bit of wine— too much wine. One thing led to another and she ended up getting spit roasted with Isagi in her pussy and Bachira taking her mouth. If she wasn’t so out of her mind she’d say something— or maybe she wouldn’t, it was the truth after all. But they are going to get in trouble afterward, they made a promise and totally broke it.

“Mhm~! ♡” Bachira nods. “She’s a tough girl, she can take it.”

“We didn’t get to try last time but you think (Name) can fit two inside, right? She's doubting herself like a ..silly girl? Is that what you call her when she’s being clumsy?” Isagi flashes another smile, yet Bachira succumbs to his impulses, bridging the distance to share a kiss with (Name) before tenderly transitioning to Isagi, his lips moving in a gentle but firm kiss.

Rin doesn’t say much. It's odd but he’s soon pulling himself out of her so that they could shift into another position— one that could accommodate her more comfortably than the one she was in currently. (Name) assumes a reverse cowgirl position, while Rin supports one of her legs from behind the knee to establish a stable anchor. Isagi mirrors the action, both positioning their cocks at her pussy— one that seems too tight to fit both. Bachira’s been hovering, leaning over to spit right onto her pussy.

“You can do it! ♡” Bachira chirps, a chuckle adjacent to a giggle leaves his lips when she reaches out for him— he lets her with no question. She held onto the nape of his neck, fingers intertwined in the soft brassy hairs. The shuffle of footsteps echoed as the onlookers encircled the four, creating an impromptu audience. It’s almost like a.. circle jerk but with a view. All of their dicks are in hand, stroking themselves to the sight. The attention is getting (Name) off, she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t. Her cunt was visibly pulsating around nothing, her need to be absolutely filled to the brim was growing and the task of taking two cocks into the same hole seemed less daunting and more like a necessity.

“Holy shit..” An involuntary hiccup escapes her, accompanied by a restrained moan. It's the sensation of something notably large making its initial attempt to enter. They both push into her inch by inch and the grasp on Bachira’s hair is far less friendly. He doesn’t mind though, it feels good for him. “Oh my god—!”

It's a stretch that initiates with a subtle and controlled tension.. gradually intensifying until it teeters on the edge of discomfort. As she reaches the peak— both of their lengths halfway, a satisfying ache ensues, accompanied by a paradoxical sensation of relief as the apex passes. It’s a blend of pain and pleasure, as the muscles protest against the stretch while simultaneously yielding to the therapeutic pull of her walls, leaving her with a lingering sense of being full beyond imagination and gratification.

“Christ..” Rin says under his breath, letting out an almost shaky breath. It’s tight— it’s probably the tightest thing he’s had since he fucked her ass the first time. It’s an enveloping pressure that molds around him, both hard and soft. It seems as though his cock and Isagi’s are battling for room within her but there just simply wasn’t any.

“Look at you..” Isagi on the other hand can’t get over the view— none of them can. He’s only ever seen things like this in hardcore porn, never in real life. She’d stretched beyond belief, both cocks inside of her completely to the hilt. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than stare and wait for her to permit them to move. Bachira’s making good use of himself by playing with her clit, lips locked onto her own as she reached to play with his cock.

She breaks away from his lips momentarily to look at Isagi with a darkened gaze before uttering the words, “Fuck me.” Rin misses not a single beat as he reaches upward, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base to yank her head back. Both men start fucking into her at a worrisome pace, one would think they’d be a tad more generous but it was clear there had been no more patience left. They wanted to cum in a hot and willing cunt. Their cocks both push and pull at alternating times, hitting different targets deep inside of her. She’s not catching a break between the two of them and it’s making her vision hazy.

Chasing after a high becomes the focal point of everyone’s agenda. Every touch seemed to be heightened amongst everyone, sending waves of euphoria through each of their bodies— there a sense of urgency surged through the air as something inched closer and closer. Her vision had been completely obscured by the overwhelming euphoria building in her core, the harsh lighting of the locker room becoming almost soft and blurred. Her tits jump at every impact of a pump, hardened buds getting licked and sucked on by Bachira. Some images she can make out when she comes to like: Baro, Yukimiya, and Raichi stroking themselves, Reo bent over on all fours while Nagi fucks him from behind, Chigiri and Hiori in a 69 position while Tabito alternates between Hiori’s ass and Chigiri’s mouth.

Unfortunately, she can’t hold it together anymore. It's the peak of pleasure, sensations converging into an intense climax—a symphony of ecstasy where every touch, breath, and heartbeat harmonize in sublime rhythm. Her mouth hangs open into a sweet little ‘O’ and she starts to shake uncontrollably, her cunt becomes a geyser as she squirts on Isagi’s lower half in short bursts. It’s a chain reaction: guttural moans breaking out as the onlookers begin to cum, multiple cumshots had and soiling the floor where they stood.

“Ah— fuck.. fuck.. fuckfuck—” Isagi’s hips start to falter terribly as he sputters out curses. Both he and Rin cum at the same time, filling her abused and beaten hole with their seed. Isagi doesn’t know it, but he’s overstimulating both (Name) and Rin because he’s the type to fuck through his orgasms until he absolutely can’t move anymore. Their cum sloshes inside of her and it’s enough to start oozing out of her, down her ass, and dripping onto Rin’s balls.

“Stop fucking moving.” Rin barks at Isagi before he eventually tires himself out, he slips out of her first then Rin carefully follows suit. The rest oozes out of her slowly and onto the bench, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall.

As the echoes of pleasure subside, a serene aftermath settles in, wrapping the room in a cocoon of shared intimacy. In the dim glow of the aftermath, bodies rest, breaths sync, and the hazy ambiance settles.

She deserves a promotion.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader

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deansbeer · 1 month ago

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⌢⌢ ˚ 𖨂 INTRODUCING. beachbum!reader ﹒ ୨ৎ

created by KARI her SPOTIFY playlist

🐚 ⎯⎯ BEACHBUM!READER is everything DEAN WINCHESTER didn't know he needed, but somehow, she fit into his life like she was always meant to be there. she's the type of girl who could spend hours on the sand, soaking up the sun, watching the waves crash against the shore, and collecting seashells like they were little treasures. she's got a deep love for the ocean, a connection to it that runs so strong, it's almost like she's part of it. if she had her way, she'd probably be a mermaid, and DEAN? well, that's exactly what he calls her—his MERMAID BABY. it's a nickname that just stuck, and every time he says it, she can't help but beam.

her hair, once a rich dark brown, has lightened over time, kissed by the sun and saltwater. she's always out there, either swimming, sunbathing, or walking along the shoreline, and it shows. her skin has that perfect sun-kissed glow, and she's always got that laid-back, carefree energy that comes from being so connected to the beach. her shared bedroom with DEAN is full of little reminders of the ocean—trinkets, seashells, and those adorable sonny angel figures she loves to collect. he always pretends like he doesn't get it, but deep down? DEAN loves how much joy she gets from her little collections. it's just another part of her that makes her, well, beachbum!reader.

despite dean's life being full of hunting, danger, and chaos, she always finds a way to make sure he slows down and takes a breath. she's managed to convince him to go with her to the beach whenever they get the chance, and though he grumbled about the sand at first—getting in his boots, sticking to his skin—he's learned to tolerate it. more than that, he's actually started to appreciate it. maybe it's because of her. no, it's definitely because of her. she's got that kind of effect on him. bobby and sam always give him crap about how tan he's gotten lately, and he just smirks, knowing exactly who to blame. she's always reminding him to get enough vitamin d, but not without slathering him in sunscreen first, because lord knows he'll burn if she doesn't.

she's a mix of contradictions that somehow work perfectly. you'd think summer would be her favorite season, given how much she loves the sun and the sea, but NO—it's winter that steals her heart. she loves everything about it, from the cozy clothes to the chilly air, and she's constantly surprising dean with how much she looks forward to the colder months.

when she's not sunbathing or collecting seashells, you'll find her cruising around in her black mini cooper, a car that's as adorable as she is. it smells like the ocean inside—thanks to the ocean-scented air fresheners she always has—and it's decorated with little nods to her beach-bum lifestyle. DEAN, of course, finds the car a bit too small for his taste, but he can't help but love how clean and tidy she keeps it, almost like how he treats baby.

she's always dressed to impress—whether it's in her own hand-knitted mini skirts ( usually in pastel colors like soft pinks, blues, greens, purples, & yellows ) or dolled up in a cute dress and heels for a date night with dean. but she's also got that laid-back vibe, too. she's just as comfortable in baggy sweats and one of dean's hoodies, usually on a quick target run or picking up groceries. DEAN secretly loves when she steals his hoodies, though he'd never admit—not without giving her a hard time about it first. but it's all part of the charm.

when DEAN is out in the driveway, tinkering with BABY, she's usually not far behind. she'll wander out in one of her prettiest bikinis, shorts unbuttoned, towel slung over her shoulder, and her favorite pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. even if dean's covered in car oil, grime, or sweat, she doesn't care. she'll still wrap her arms around him from behind, press a quick peck to his cheek, and announce she's off for a swim. it's just what she does—effortlessly weaving herself into his life, into his routine, making everything feeling a little lighter, a little better.

she's always barefoot, her gold anklet glimmering in the sun, with perfectly pedicured toes or manicured nails that dean insists on paying for, no matter how much she protests. she likes to be independent, sure, but when DEAN flashes her that grin and presses a kiss to her pout, she can't help but give in. and when she comes back with a fresh mani 'n pedi, dean showers her with compliments, telling her how pretty the color looks on her skin.

their life together is full of little moments of love, affection, and yes, sometimes passion. they've made love on the beach, in the water, and in the shower when the mood strikes, but it's never just about the physical connection. it's about those quiet, tender moments they share, like walking hand-in-hand along the shore or swimming together for hours, talking about everything and nothing, laughing, joking, and just being them. beachbum!reader is DEAN'S mermaid baby && beach girl and wherever life takes them, she's always going to be the one who reminds dean winchester to slow down and enjoy the view.

✶ EXTRAS. this idea came to me while i wrote that blurb about dean sneaking photos of you at the beach. it was too cute to pass up. 'n it's kinda what i had in mind while writing it, but you can picture it as anyone you want or even yourself <3 this is just my take.

⎯⎯ SPECIAL TAGS. @fallbhind @deansbite @frosttbitessam @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4nicholas @jasvtsc . . . ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

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youraverageaemondsimp · 1 year ago

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Secrets behind the curtain. // Actor!Aemond Targaryen x Manager!Reader || MODERN AU

Summary: Aemond takes out his frustration of losing an award on you.

WARNINGS: mdni, dubious consent, p in v sex, unprotected sex, tiddy sucking, degradation, dacryphilia, car (it's a limousine) sex, slightly dark!aemond, riding, messy sex, power imbalance, rigged award show, + not proofread, please lemme know if I missed any.

WC: 1.7K

A/N: I cooked this while trynna complete my other wips like bro 😭 adhd be like 😋 also this isn't dark enough to be tagged under mae:dark!content but it does contain dubious consent (reader is implied to find the situation inappropriate to fuck) so yeah, a heads up // divider creds: @cafekitsune

“And the best actor award goes to…” The host trails off, leaving room for suspense and Aemond leans back relaxed on his chair, knowing that he would be winning.

“Jason Lannister!”

As the host announces the name, your blood runs cold, you notice Aemond twitch slightly in his seat, he shoots you a glare and you look down at your feet.

Aemond watches in anger as Jason goes up the stage and collects the award, “That asshole isn't even that good at acting.” He scoffs and you swallow, “Aemond, the cameras.” you whisper and he rolls his eyes, putting on a fake expression of a smile, as though he's happy that Jason won, but you know the truth.

After this award, a small break was given to artists to freshen up, redo their makeup, or relieve themselves, but for Aemond that wasn't the case, “We're leaving.” He tells you and you look at him in shock, “But- the award show hasn't ended yet? If we live now, the press might notice and create articles on how you left right after you lost.” You reason, trying to catch up to Aemond as he was making his way through the alleyway, reaching his limousine which was parked behind the building, he checked the area for any press before he turned to face you.

“And whose fault was that? You brought me here, saying that I would win, look what happened now.” He grabs you by your cheeks roughly and you swallow thickly, “You were supposed to win! The judges evaluated that your performance was better but the Lannisters might've played foul.” You tried to reason but he scoffs, making his way over to the limousine and getting in.

“Where the fuck is the driver?” He asks you, when he sees you getting inside along with him, and you shrug, “He probably went to take a break– but Aemond please, your image will be ruined if you leave now.” You beg, yet he remains quiet and sits down, you shut the door behind you and sit down as well, awkward silence filling up the air.

There was no convincing Aemond once he made up his mind, so you dialled the drivers number but he didn't pick up, and you took this as a sign to persuade Aemond one last time, as if he'll suddenly change his mind even though he refused multiple times.

“Aemond, the press will write about how you were upset that you didn't win and left right after, besides that isn't the only award you are nominated for, you are also nominated for best character in the series, which will take place after this break.” You tell him calmly and he scoffs, “Yeah, just so i can lose that award too right?” He glares at you, and you shut up.

You sigh to yourself, knowing that you'd have to be the one dealing with damage control, Otto and Alicent would not be pleased, considering how Aemond had already once gotten into a controversy for taunting his nephews at an award show, questioning their birth indirectly.

You are about to dial the driver's number once again before your phone is yanked off from your grip, your hand is then grabbed and you stumble forward into Aemond arms.

He wastes no time in unbuttoning your shirt revealing your bra, he untucks your shirt and pulls it off you, throwing it on the ground and then begins mouthing at your breast, and kissing on your neck.

“Aemond— we can't right now—” You try to protest but he interrupts you, “Shut the fuck up.” He grits his teeth and you immediately obey.

He pushes you down onto the seat and pulls your pants off, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and feeling vulnerable.

You open your mouth to protest again but he slams his lips against you, leaving you unable to speak. The kiss is aggressive, hungry and anger filled, he bites your lip enough to make it painful but not to draw blood, and you whine into the kiss. His hands roam up your body and he finds your breasts, squeezing them tightly and mostly aggressively.

He pulls away and begins to undo his own pants, unbuckling belt and pulling his pants and boxers down, revealing his hard and leaking cock, he unbuttons his shirt slightly, feeling hot.

Your panties are pulled off in an instant and thrown to where the rest of your clothes are, same with your bra, you grip the edge of slim seats to not fall off when he grabs your legs and spreads them wide, before leaning forward and causing your knees to push up against your chest.

He spits on your cunt, his hands now holding the underside of your knees, he lets one of them in order to line his cock up against your entrance before going back to the underside of your knees again.

You gasp when his cock stretches your walls, throwing your head back in pleasure, Aemond doesn't waste any moment and begins to ram harshly into your cunt and you bite your lip to prevent noises from coming out.

“Fucking slut, look at how wet you've become.” He says harshly, his hips thrusting in and out at a fast pace, he grabs your arms and pins them upwards, “'Foul play' you say? It doesn't matter how much money they've spent, you should've spent more.” He grits his teeth, still remembering your words from earlier. “B-but that wouldn't be fair–” You are cut off with a light slap to your cheek, before he grips it tightly, “Fair? Who cares about fairness? Look what happened now.” He spits in your mouth.

You swallow, knowing you have no choice, a small smirk forms on his lips at what you've done, likely satisfied with your behaviour.

But soon he remembers that this situation didn't occur because he simply wanted to fuck his favourite woman like all the other times, no, he was mad at you.

“You're so fucking useless, do you know that?” He asks and you sniff, staying silent.

“Useless whore, you couldn't even make me win the award, the only thing you're good for is being a cocksleeve and a cunt to dump my cum into.” He degrades you and you can feel the tears begin to form in your eyes at his words.

Yet he finds joy in those tears.

“You're crying now? Imagine how I felt when I lost the award huh? How embarrassing was it for me? Especially to that fucking Jason Lannister.” His thrusts become even more brutal.

Your body jolts up and down the seat at the impact, but you still remain silent, the only noises that leave your mouth being whines and moans.

“You're fired.”

Your eyes shoot wide open at those words and you begin to shake, “No- no, please!” You beg and he chuckles, “Desperate to keep this job that much huh? Why? Is it because of my cock?” He asks and you shake your head no, “Please–” You beg and he seems to be in thought.

He suddenly pulls you up, changing positions.

He is now sitting straight with you straddling him, your arms gripping his shoulders for balance.

“Do you really want to keep this job?” He asks and you nod eagerly, “Well, you know what to do.” He says and you nod.

You raise your hips slightly before going down again, you set a decent pace and begin riding him, you bounce up and down on his cock, gripping his shoulders tight, whilst he grips your hips.

“You're so fucking pretty like this.” He mutters, pressing kisses on your breasts before pulling your nipple into his mouth, your pace falters slightly, yet his mouth remains on your breast, suckling on the nipple, twirling his tongue around the bud, and groaning in pleasure.

He leaves your breast with a wet pop before giving the other one the same attention, “I love these tits so much, I can only imagine how delicious it would be if they swell up with milk.” He sighs, rubbing his face in between them and placing a kiss on your sternum.

You begin picking up the pace again, slightly leaning forward which makes the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot, making you let out a moan, you feel his grip tighten on your hips, and soon starts to thrust upwards, matching your pace.

“Fuck Aem– I'm so close.” You close your eyes, “I know baby, me too.” He kisses your neck, and due to the repeated hits at your sweet spot, you finish with a loud moan and immediately fall limp at the impact, your breathing uneven as you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

He thrusts a few more times before he comes too with a grunt, painting your walls white with his seed. You both stay like that for a moment until you break the silence with a question, “Are you actually gonna fire me?” You question and he chuckles, “And miss out having the best fucking company ready 24/7 for me? No. I'm no such fool.” He answers.

Suddenly your phone begins to ring, you get off him and pick the call up and Aemond watches you to do so.

You gasp when the other person reveals the news to you, and you turn to look at Aemond, who looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you end the conversation with the other person, cutting the call.

“The award show is cancelled, apparently the Lannisters have been exposed for the foul play they had done.” you tell him, and his face immediately becomes bright with a smile on his face, and soon it is replaced with a smirk as he watches you put your clothes on.

“You better prepare yourself for a round two at my house.” He tells you and quickly pulls his pants up, before you can say anything, the door opens

“Sorry madam, I wasn't able to pick up the call, my phone died when I tried to.” The driver apologises and gets into the vehicle, seating himself on the driver's seat and quickly starts the limousine, and you sit down next to Aemond, who rests his hand on your thigh, causing goosebumps to rise as you oddly anticipate what's about to come.

The ride home felt like an eternity.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd x reader smut #hotd x reader #x reader #reader insert #tw: dubcon #aemond targaryen

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munsonluhvr · 7 months ago

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MAMA, I'M IN LOVE WITH A MECHANIC (PART 1)

mechanic!eddie munson x receptionist!reader, no warnings. ❀ part 2 & part 3 coming soon...

“No, that’s not-“ Joyce Byers begins to say as she gently pushes you to the side of the register with a frustrated, yet gentle, sigh. “It’s like this,” she says, pushing the metal buttons of the cash register, making the cash drawer pop out towards you. You frown, biting your lips as embarrassment creeps across your cheeks. On the other side of the register, the teen-boy customer looks between you and Joyce with an impatient look.

It’s your first day as the new receptionist at Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups, a car repair shop owned by Wayne Munson and his nephew Eddie Munson; though, so far, you’ve only met Wayne. Joyce, the current receptionist, is moving to California for a ‘new start’ she told you, and you are learning her ways, or trying to learn at least.

It’s only 1pm, and already your head is beginning to ache. Since 7am, you’ve been learning how to work the register, schedule appointments, and learn automotive terminology in order to tell Wayne and Eddie the issues the customers are having with their vehicles – and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake in applying for this job.

“You’ll get the hang of it, y/n. Don’t worry,” Joyce says, offering you an encouraging smile though you question her transparency. So far, you haven’t figured out the register quite yet. She moves a few paces to the side, pulling out a box cutter from her back pocket and bending down towards the small pile of cardboard boxes that rest behind the counter. “Mind helping me with these?” Joyce says, gesturing towards the boxes. You nod, leaving from behind the register to help.

Together, you and Joyce cut the boxes open, revealing various types of air fresheners and other car accessories, placing them neatly on the racks on the wall. Munson’s Timeless Tune-Ups is a small, humble shop, the register adjacent to the garage area where the Munson’s fix the cars. The office is small, the register placed on top of a wooden table. Off to the right, the wall is covered with things to purchase, small pamphlets explaining different car issues. The windows that line the wall allow for ample sun to flush into the office, making it bright.

Behind you, the telephone rings loudly, causing you and Joyce to jump. Joyce drops the product she holds back into the box and moves towards the telephone. You hum softly, continuing to place the little packets of air fresheners onto their hooks. You’re living in your own mind until Joyce inhales sharply and then places the phone back onto the hook. “Y/n, I’m so sorry to have to do this, especially on your first day, but my son Will needs to be picked up from school,” Joyce says, moving quickly to collect her jacket and purse from the chair. “I don’t think the Munson’s have many cars left to do so you won’t have to worry about using the register, hopefully they’ll give you exact change.”

You try to maintain a smile, though panic is beginning to settle into you. You barely can use the register, somewhat know how to schedule appointments, and ask the right questions to write down for the Munson’s, but what are you to do without Joyce? “O-Okay, Joyce.”

“Just be sure to lock up, the keys are on the hook by the door.” Joyce gestures towards the door that leads into the garage part of the shop where a set of keys dangle on the hook. You nod, biting your lip again to ease your anxiety. “Good luck.”

“I hope your…“ you begin to say as Joyce pulls the door open. “…son feels better,” you finish, though Joyce is gone before you can finish your pleasantry. You sigh to yourself, looking at the several boxes that are left to unbox, price, and put onto the wall. You continue your work, pleased that you at least have something to keep you busy until the shop closes.

Off in the distance, somewhere in the garage, you can hear Wayne and who you assume is Eddie, chatter back and forth, listening to the radio loudly. Occasionally there is a loud bang, a clank, of the last of the customers cars behind repaired. Your fingers are laced with angst, the anticipation of not knowing how to use the register, or anything really, making it hard to concentrate.

Working in the quiet of the office is disturbed when the chime of the front door signals a customer. Placing your hands on your knees to lift you up, you turn towards the door ready to greet the customer but the male standing in the doorway is covered in grease, dirt marks tattering his bare arms and glistening chest. He has long, dark, curly hair, a red bandana covering the top of his head. This must be Eddie.

“So, you must be Joyce’s replacement. Y/n, right? Aren’t you pretty,” Eddie says bluntly, moving towards the water dispenser in the corner of the office. Your eyes widen, goosebumps raising on your skin as you watch him walk past the front of the register. “Thanks,” you mumble, looking down at the surface of the register counter.

“Wayne said this is your first day on the job,” Eddie says, glancing at you. His eyes graze the length of your body as you places a small, paper cup underneath the spicket and then push the lever for water. “How’s it going so far?”

You flush under his sight, feeling every curve and inch of your flesh under scrutiny. You clear your throat, trying to glance at Eddie casually. God, he’s so gorgeous. “F-Fine. Joyce had to leave but I think I can manage.”

Eddie hums, taking a few paces to sit in the chair that’s a few inches from you. He sighs loudly as he sits, kicking his feet out to rest on the register counter, blocking you in. He leans his head against the wall, looking at you. “I’m sure you can, I believe in you,” he says with a wink. You smile, then look away, sitting on the stool directly behind the register.

He’s wearing a white, cotton tank top, that’s now see-through due to sweat. His jeans are covered in dirt marks, his yellow steel-toed boots now dark brown with dirt. His fingers are covered in silver rings, a silver chain adorning his defined chest. You feel your core begin to melt.

“I just need to rest a minute, the garage has been so busy today,” Eddie says, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyelids. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You shake your head, glancing at him quickly. “Of course not. Plus, it’s your shop.”

“My uncle’s shop, I merely work here. Plus,” Eddie says mimicking you, “you were in here in silence and I had to come in here and disturb that.”

You shrug, a little smile creeping across your mouth. “I don’t mind the company.”

Eddie hums softly again, opening his eyes only to flash you a little smile. You two sit in silence for only a moment when the last customer saunters into the office. “May I pay?” he asks, looking between you and Eddie. You nod, turning away from Eddie and to the customer.

The panic begins to set in again as you stare at the metal keys of the antique cash register. You take the yellow slip from the customer, looking towards the bottom for the total that Wayne has written. You recall Joyce’s protocol on how to use the register and you follow them confidently, feeling Eddie’s eyes on you. You punch in the numbers and wait for the cash drawer to slide open – but nothing happens. “Um,” you say nervously to the customer. “Sorry, let me try again.”

You try again yet come to the same result. You clench your jaw, heat beginning to creep up your neck. ‘Why me?’ you think to yourself.

“Let me help,” Eddie says, taking his feet of the counter. He stands up, sliding up beside you close enough that your arms brush. He punches in the total on the register, a few other buttons, and the cash register opens up with a ding! Your fingers work quick to take the customer’s bill and exchange it with the exact change. “Have a nice day,” you murmur, moving to sit back on the stool, your line of sight aimed at the floor.

Once the customer leaves, Eddie moves around from behind the counter, moving towards the front door where the customer left only seconds before. “It was nice meeting you, y/n. I can already tell I’ll be hanging in the office a lot more.” Eddie says, turning towards where you sit on the other side of the office. Before you can reply, Eddie slips out the door.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!Eddie Munson

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hamsterclaw · 1 year ago

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Black Ice

Bangtan Christmas drabble 7 - read the rest here.

Min Yoongi only cares about three things. The thrill of drifting, his friends, and cars, in that order. Somehow, you've got under his skin. Part of the Drift Kings AU.

Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Street racer/mechanic! Yoongi, smut

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Min Yoongi knows loneliness. He knows the unrelenting ache of it, the way it permeates every aspect of one’s psyche.

He knows what it feels like to look for a connection that isn’t there.

When he was ten his father took him into work for the first time, and it was then, amongst the smells of engine oil and new paint and pinewood air freshener, that Yoongi discovered his first true love.

He pored over engine diagrams, admired the easy simplicity of every tool falling into its destined purpose, got used to his clothes being stained from tuning up cars all day long.

He’d loved every minute of it, and the truth is, he still does.

Then his cousin Yijin had given him a lift down Mount Samo one day, and 14 year old Yoongi had learned that there was more than one way to soar.

He learned to drive navigating the hairpin bends of Mount Samo, and although he’s perfected the art of drifting up and down it, could do it blindfolded a hundred times over, the thrill of it has never really faded.

He’s picked up a collection of friends over the years, all of whom love the adrenaline of street racing – not knowing what’s round the corner, trusting your own reflexes and instincts to save you when you can barely see for the blood rushing in your veins.

Kim Seokjin, his oldest and closest friend, the chaebol prince who can put together a Supra’s turbo-2JZ engine almost as quickly as Yoongi himself. His sister, a corporate princess who makes Yoongi’s heart soften and the opposite happen to his cock. They’re the two people Yoongi would do anything for, not that he’d ever tell them that.

Jung Hoseok, the gifted mechanic with a heart of gold and the sunniest demeanour Yoongi’s ever been able to tolerate, creature of the night that he is.

Jeon Jungkook, the baby fuckboi of the group, a man with the looks of a god and the persona of a baby deer. Yoongi finds it hard to be anything but endeared by his earnest good nature and anything but amused by his swaggering. Maybe one day the kid will grow into the bad man he so badly wants to be, but Yoongi hopes not. He’s great the way he is.

It’s been a while since Yoongi felt lonely, in fact his life’s pretty good right about now.

And at this exact moment? It’s perfect.

Yoongi’s senses are on overdrive as he swings into a hairpin bend on Mount Samo, tires gripping tarmac sideways. His foot taps the throttle, his hand on the handbrake just in case but he doesn’t need it, he knows the terrain so well his body’s reacting on instinct.

Sideways on he can see Seokjin to his right, composed, barely breaking a sweat as his rear wheels scrape the very edge of the path, inches from the steep drop.

Yoongi catches sight of himself in his own rearview mirror, teeth bared in a feral grin as he shoots out onto the final stretch, so fast there’s nothing to see but black.

He’d normally stop, celebrate his win with a cigarette, but he’s got somewhere to be tonight.

Behind him now, Seokjin’s headlamps flicker in lieu of a goodbye.

Yoongi depresses the horn, a sharp short blast, and then he’s gone.

***

Kang Yubin’s been supplying Yoongi’s father’s garage for years, and Yoongi’s been going to him for car parts since before he knew a spark plug from a catalytic converter.

The Kang warehouse has an unassuming front in an industrial estate on the outskirts of Seoul. Yoongi parks outside the familiar glass door, can see the dim lighting filtering through the tinted glass as he approaches.

He pushes open the door, stops, nonplussed.

Instead of Kang Yubin’s steel-rimmed glasses and grey hair, he’s greeted by you.

Half your face is obscured by a black face mask, your hair up under a baseball cap, but you’re definitely not who he expected to see.

He blinks.

Your eyebrows rise.

‘Are you lost?’ you inquire, an edge to your voice that pulls him out of his surprised reaction and reminds him why he’s here.

‘I was expecting Mr Kang,’ Yoongi replies.

Coming closer to the counter he picks up on a guardedness to your posture, a weariness that you don’t bother to hide.

‘I’m his granddaughter,’ you say, brief. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t just come here to stare at me, what do you want?’

‘Spark plugs – I have a —’ Yoongi breaks off as you get up.

‘I know who you are, and I know what car you drive. Stay here and I’ll get you your stuff.’

You disappear behind a door, return in minutes with a cardboard box.

You pull a box-cutter out of a desk drawer, slit the masking tape, pull the flaps up.

‘Feel free to take a look,’ you say, looking at him.

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to verify that they’re what he needs.

‘How do you know who I am?’ he asks, as he pays.

There’s a faint spark in your eyes, a flicker so quick he wonders if he’s mis-read it.

‘My grandfather said you were due around this time.’

You nudge your shoulder vaguely in the direction of the screen to your left, a view from the camera overlooking the front of the warehouse. ‘Not many people drive a car like that.’

You take his money, nudge the box in his direction.

‘Pleasure doing business, Min Yoongi. I’ll give my grandfather your regards.’

You’re already looking back down at your phone like you’ve dismissed him.

Yoongi picks up the box, casts another glance at you, and leaves.

He’s still thinking about you when he reaches home.

***

Yoongi’s concentrating so hard on the engine in front of him that he barely hears Seokjin approach.

‘Dinner?’ asks Seokjin, eyes flicking over the V configuration of the 8 chrome cylinders in the custom Nissan with interest.

Yoongi leans back, massages the crick in his neck from leaning over.

‘Yeah. Quick though, the client wants a rush on this.’

They exchange a look.

‘More money than sense,’ Seokjin says, critical.

‘Pays the bills,’ Yoongi counters.

They have similar opinions about rich clients who want their supercars tuned up. It’s rare that a client’s got the ability to do justice to the horsepower under the bonnet of the flashy exteriors.

Yoongi shrugs, goes to wash his hands.

‘Is your sister coming?’ he asks.

Seokjin’s still admiring the engine. ‘Not tonight. Jimin’s in town,’ he says. ‘There’s a race later, if you change your mind. I’m meeting Jungkook after dinner.’

‘Is he still sulking over Mijin?’ Yoongi asks, falling into step beside Seokjin.

There’s no need to confirm where they’re going, they always stop at a tiny restaurant run by an elderly woman who seems utterly unimpressed by their good manners but makes the best broth in town.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, but his tone is sympathetic. ‘You know how it is. People never expect him to be as soft as he really is.’

Yoongi nods. ‘Tell him if she can’t appreciate him she’s the one missing out.’

Seokjin snorts. ‘Tell him yourself, he’ll love it. Are you coming to Seulgi’s party?’

It’s rare that Yoongi goes out at night, he’s busy and he does his best work at night time, both in the workshop and on the streets, but he’d promised Seokjin he’d go.

‘Next week?’ he asks.

Seokjin nods, pushes open the door to the restaurant.

‘Yeah, don’t forget.’

***

Seulgi is a friend of Seokjin’s, they’d dated briefly, years back, but it hadn’t worked out.

She greets Seokjin enthusiastically at the door, the pink flush on her cheeks deepening as Seokjin gives her an affectionate hug.

She beams at Yoongi, and he smiles back because he’s not proof against her cheerful nature.

It’s how he became friends with Hoseok, after all.

‘Drinks, let me get you drinks,’ Seulgi cheers, leading them into her kitchen.

Seokjin’s swept away by Seulgi and her friends, he’s always been a popular guy. He shoots Yoongi a look as he’s pulled into the lounge, which Yoongi pretends not to see.

He lifts his cup to his lips, decides to go outside for a bit.

The deck outside has a few scattered people, mostly couples, some groups.

Yoongi leans against the wall, looks around idly. The throbbing bass of the music feels like a heartbeat. The night is cold and crisp, the skies clear, but there aren’t any stars visible in Seulgi’s backyard.

He lets his mind wander to his next project, restoring a classic Toyota for a friend from the circuit. He’ll need parts.

He wonders if you’ll be behind the counter when he next goes to the Kang warehouse. Then he’s straightening up, unsure if he’s manifested you into reality.

He’s never seen your full face, but he’d know your eyes anywhere.

You’re standing across the deck, looking straight at him, coat open over a dress that shows a hell of a lot more than the hoodie and sweats you had on the last time he saw you.

For the first time tonight, Yoongi feels a prickle of interest.

He’d known you’d be beautiful, there’d been something about the way you carried yourself.

You’re still looking at him.

Yoongi walks over.

‘Who’s manning the warehouse?’ he asks, when he gets close enough.

You tilt your head. ‘Are you really so concerned about my family business, Min Yoongi?’

There’s a mocking note in your voice, Yoongi finds he likes it.

‘You have the best quality parts,’ he says.

Your smile blooms over your face, making your eyes bright. ‘I knew there was a reason my grandfather liked you.’

Yoongi nods to your dress. ‘You look pretty.’

‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘You look pretty too.’

Yoongi can feel his lips curving. Are you flirting with him? Seems like you are.

He’s all for it.

You’re raising your cup now, taking a sip.

In the night time lighting, your lips glisten with moisture and whatever lipstick you’ve got on, making him wonder what they’d look like around his cock.

You eye him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.

Yoongi says, ‘Do you like cars? Want to see mine?’

***

You’ve got your legs either side of his torso, your ass bouncing in his lap, and Yoongi’s front seat’s reclined all the way to make room for you to ride him.

The lines of your beautiful body are reminiscent of a triumph of masters of Italian design. Long smooth thighs, tightening around him with every rhythmic thrust.

The curves of your breasts, bouncing right in his face.

The long line of your neck, head thrown back, the pulse in your throat fluttering as he holds your hips so he can fuck you back, fuck up into your sweet warmth.

His cock fits inside you like he was made for you, and god fucking damn, you feel so good around him he’s on a hair trigger.

Yoongi cups the back of your head, tugs you down so you’re close. Goosebumps prickle your flesh as he tells you how good you are.

Your eyes close as he kisses your bare neck, flicks his tongue against your skin.

You had been whimpering steadily as your arousal dripped down onto him, soaking his balls, pooling at the base of his cock, and as Yoongi picks up the pace he’s gratified by the hitch in your breathing.

Yoongi’s always been damn good at helping his partners find their pleasure, and he’s sure as hell not going to stop now.

Your breasts are still in his face, half out the low neck of your dress, chest heaving.

Yoongi rubs his thumb over the outline of your hardened nipple, and you cry out, muffled with your mouth against his skin but still loud enough to make his ears ring.

His balls tighten up even more as your walls flutter around him, and Yoongi would know you were coming even if you hadn’t gasped it.

God, you’re so sweet and sexy he’s lost.

He can feel your panting breaths against his neck, the weight of your warm body as it goes lax after your peak, the sweet grip of your cunt taking in everything he has to give you as he releases, a pulse of pleasure so intense it sends shockwaves through his skin.

Yoongi’s floating, and like reaching the summit of Mount Samo, he immediately wants to do it again.

You’re looking at him, lips still so swollen and pretty his spent cock gives a residual throb inside you.

‘Like my car?’ Yoongi asks. It’s stupid, but it makes you laugh and he’ll be as stupid as you like if it makes you sound like that.

Your chin lifts, and you say, ‘It’s all right.’

The flash of merriment in your eyes gives you away.

Yoongi laughs. ‘Maybe next time we can get the car started and I can actually take you somewhere.’

‘I don’t know,’ you tease. ‘Are you a good driver?’

Yoongi reaches out, tucks the lock of hair that’s fallen over your eye behind your ear.

‘Let’s find out,’ he says. ‘Where do you want to go?’

***

Yoongi’s thinking about you the next morning when he wakes up. He’d ended up taking you back to your place, where you’d kissed him sweetly at the door and bid him goodbye like a promise to see him again.

His phone rings and he’s still got you on his mind, so it takes a second for him to regroup.

‘The maknae needs help,’ Seokjin says, no preamble. ‘I’m going to swing by yours, be there in ten.’

Yoongi hangs up, wonders what the hell Jungkook’s got himself into this time.

By the time Seokjin arrives, Yoongi’s had time to bolt coffee and change, but Seokjin still raises a brow as he swings into the passenger seat.

As always, Seokjin’s impeccably dressed, dark hair swept back from his forehead like he’s going to his own fucking wedding instead of about to deal with some shit that’s going down.

Yoongi suppresses a yawn, tugs his beanie down over his brow.

‘What’s going down with JK?’ he asks.

Seokjin cuts off another car so smoothly they’re halfway down the intersection before the irritated horn blares.

‘Remember that race the other day? Jungkook beat Seungho fair and square, I was there.’

Yoongi groans. ‘The fuck. I thought we weren’t going to race that fragile asshole anymore.’

Seokjin glances in the rearview. ‘The maknae was still hurting over Mijin, I thought an easy win might make him feel better.’

‘So what’s Seungho done?’

‘Brought in the big guns,’ Seokjin says grimly. ‘Called in some guys from Hongkong. JK’s with them now.’

Now Yoongi’s fully awake. ‘Should’ve taken my car instead of this piece of shit,’ he says.

Seokjin just laughs. ‘Don’t worry about my car, Yoongi. Maybe think of a way to hide that big–ass hickey on your neck.’

‘Suck my dick,’ Yoongi says, like they’re 16 again.

‘Looks like someone already did,’ Seokjin returns.

***

Yoongi parks up outside the Kang warehouse, pushes open the door.

You look up from your phone. Your face mask is off, so Yoongi has the privilege of seeing the way your lips curve in a smile.

‘There’s been a shipment of fuel injectors,’ you say. ‘Want to take a look?’

Yoongi stops just in front of the wooden half-panel that separates you from him.

He tilts his head.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Also, I took my friend’s Honda for a spin today, I’ve got a list.’

He smooths out the piece of paper he’s got folded in his pocket, places it on the counter.

You pick it up, get up. ‘I’ve got you.’

Yoongi runs a hand over the hickey over his neck. ‘I’ve been taking shit all day, about this,’ he adds.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, but you don’t seem the least bit contrite. ‘You did your share of marking, Min Yoongi.’

Yoongi asks, ‘What time do you get off?’

You’re about to answer when the door opens.

Yoongi turns and tenses immediately.

Fucking Shin Seungho.

‘You following me?’ he asks mildly.

Seungho scoffs, doesn’t deign to reply.

‘I’m collecting an order,’ he says to you.

Your face mask is back on, your face carefully blank. ‘Sure, what’s the name?’

When you go into the back to collect it Seungho turns to Yoongi.

Yoongi concentrates on the silkscreen of a cat on the wall behind the counter.

He can feel Seungho’s eyes on his face.

Just try it, fucker.

The fact was, he’d pushed Seokjin’s Honda to its limits beating Seungho’s friends today, and although the adrenaline’s ebbed, there’s a thin streak still running through his bloodstream, and he’s a spark away from igniting.

Seungho takes a step closer, and Yoongi turns to face him like he’s got all the time in the world.

You return just as Seungho opens his filthy mouth.

‘Looks like you’ve paid,’ you say, passing the box across the counter to Seungho.

You pull out the box cutter, slit the package, open it up for him to check, but don’t put it down.

‘Am I going to have trouble here, boys?’ you ask.

Seungho barely looks your way, Yoongi’s always known the man lacks vision.

‘Nah,’ Seungho says finally. He picks up the box, sneers at Yoongi.

Yoongi blanks his expression. There’s no way he’s going to start shit with Seungho in front of you.

The asshole’s not worth it.

As soon as the door closes behind Seungho you put down the box cutter.

The next words out of your mouth surprise him.

‘Shit, you’re hot when you’re mad, Yoongi.’

Yoongi stares at you, flummoxed, then he laughs.

‘Just when I’m mad?’ he asks.

You shrug. ‘Take me out on a date and I’ll tell you more.’

‘How about right now?’ Yoongi asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Let’s go.’

***

As your grip on his hair loosens, Yoongi lifts his mouth from your cunt, swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Helps you tug your panties back up, smooths your skirt back down over your thighs.

He notices you’ve still got his cum in the corner of your lips. As he watches, you flick your tongue out, lick delicately.

His cock stirs with interest, and you act like you know it.

‘More later?’ you ask.

‘Yeah. After I win.’

Yoongi reaches over to help you with your seatbelt, arranging it across your chest, between your breasts, securing it.

You lean forward and kiss him as the belt clicks into place.

Yoongi starts the engine, turns the heating back on because he’s noticed your hands get cold easily.

‘I can drop you off at home before the race,’ he offers. ‘Come see you after.’

‘I want to see you drive,’ you say.

Yoongi wouldn’t say it, but he’s pleased. He knows he’ll keep you safe, it’s a circuit through the city outskirts he’s done a million times, and he’s looking forward to you meeting Seokjin and Hoseok and Jungkook.

He flicks on the lights, rolls into oncoming traffic. Heads North.

By the time he pulls up to the starting line there’s the usual crowd gathered. He parks up next to Seokjin and Hoseok.

In his rearview he can see JK surrounded by people. He’s lost the sad puppy air he had for a few weeks whilst he was pining after Mijin. The kid’s going to be all right, not that Yoongi’s ever had any doubt about that.

Engines all around him are starting up, a deafening series of rumbles.

Beside him, Seokjin waves, and Hoseok smiles so brightly it’s blinding.

The flag waves, and Yoongi accelerates.

Checks on you in the rearview, and you’re as pretty as he remembers.

Min Yoongi’s spent a lot of his life looking for connection, and by his reckoning, he’s doing pretty well right about now.

Lights flash by in a blur.

Yoongi drives.

Author note: And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading, hope you've enjoyed, here's to a brighter 2024. This time last year we were saying goodbye to Kim Seokjin, I can't wait to start welcoming the boys back again. Happy holidays to you all!

©hamsterclaw 2023

#bangtan christmas #bangtan christmas 2023 #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic

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zombholic · 1 year ago

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MY KIND OF LOVE — abby anderson

summary — illegal boxing was never on your bucket list until your friend brought you to one.

description — poc fem!reader, illegal boxer!abby, reader has tattoos and a couple of piercings, mentions of drug usage, bidding, sexual themes, not for minors.

chapters — two, three, four, pending.

— 🥊　　 ◦ ✺ 　 🚩　 ⟢ —

“Jesse, I really don’t wanna see your ass get rocked by some she-hulk.” You were wiping down the bar as it was starting to close up, your annoying but dear friend for many years was indeed begging you to go to one of his also many illegal boxing matches.

“No Y/nn, listen if you go with me I swear I will fix your car for free, please I just want someone to go with me.” He clasped his hands together under his chin begging you.

“Fine, only because you’re fixing my car for free.” Rolling your eyes at the boy man.

“I’ll pick you up at 10.” He shoots you a wink before heading out the bar doors.

Sliding your arms into your sweater you turned the light off on the open sign and locked the doors, quickly getting into your tiny vehicle to speed back to your even tinier apartment.

You were quick to freshen up, only wearing basketball shorts and a black wife pleaser that showed off your tattoo pieces. You slipped on your worn out black converse and left your natural, it was an underground boxing match there was no need to dress up so you quickly shot Jesse a text that you’re ready.

Jesse was there in ten minutes, you guys reached a very strange looking building but he had assured you it was quote on quote safe.

He took you into a supposed locker room, and started wrapping his hands in a white wrap. He was shirtless with a pair of blue shorts, Jesse wasn’t ugly of course he was very attractive and if you weren’t a raging lesbian you probably wouldn’t had sex with him already.

“I wont lie, Abby scares me with the way she fights.” Jesse admitted as he started air boxing you.

“I would be scared her too— stop you’re fucking annoying.” You slapped his fists away.

“How much is the bidding anyways?” You both started walking over to the arena, it was small with quite a handful of people that looked like they would watch illegal boxing.

The ring was used and looked very unsanitary but you stood over the edge of the bars watching Jesse enter them, rubbing his shoulders trying your best to hype him up but deep down you knew he was going to get his shit rocked.

“I think it was around two grand.” He took a chug of his water.

The arena grew louder, Abby’s name being chanted as you watched her jog down to the ring. Her hair in tight dutch braids, you could see the bandage wrapped around her chest that poked out of her white fitted tank top, her red shorts showing off her toned thighs that could actually crush you to death.

“I am not bidding on you.” You gave him a worrisome glance before jumping down and taking your place in front of some people.

“Now who��s ready to see our boy Jesse get his ass demolished by the one and only Abby Anderson!” You swore you saw this episode on spongebob and knew it was not going to end well.

“Start bidding motherfuckers! Money goes in the bucket!” A guy and a girl running around collecting money from the crowd, the howls and roars from them only getting louder.

This was not your environment.

You watched at they placed in their mouth guards, Abby slowly walking around Jesse like she was ready to rip his jugular out. She was first to hit him with a punch straight to his cheek, the blood already spewing out his mouth.

Wincing at the sight you couldn’t look away, he begged you to come here to watch his get obliterated by this woman who literally beats men for a living.

Jesse threw an uppercut under her chin she was quick to wipe the blood off her lips, her expression was deadpanned. She threw a couple more hits to his stomach, nose and his head. You watched your friend collapse to the floor his face screamed in excruciating agony.

The round was called out since he was on the floor, you ran over to him crawling under the rubber like bars making your way to him trying not to touch the blood or else you would pass out too. Grabbing his face you pushed his hair away from him seeing the bruises forming on his stupid face.

“Need your girlfriend to revive your bitchass?” Her mocking voice spoke behind you.

“I’m not his girlfriend Ms. She-Hulk, and fuck off you won stop being a bitch.” You turned your head to shoot her a glaring look.

She shot her hands up in defense, her tongue poking her cheek with the cockiest smirk plastered across her bloodied face. “Don’t start with me girl.”

“Or what?” You stood up crossing your arms over your chest as you shot deathly rays into Abby’s face.

“I wouldn’t even have to prove anything.” She twirled your hair around her finger.

You were quick to push her shoulders back, the audacity she had to touch you was beyond comprehension. She barely budged, her build so broad and strong it was a joke to have even pushed her.

I guess your joke of a statement ticked her off, she was quick to pushback on you but harder causing you to fall back on your ass.

“I could do much worse than push you on your fucking ass little girl.” All you could do was look away the crowd was quick to chatter and mumble about the situation.

— 🥊　　 ◦ ✺ 　 🚩　 ⟢ —

authors note — i swear guys the other parts will be better I PROMISE this is the best i could do for someone who doesn’t know shit about boxing. ask to be on the tag list!!

tag list — @atomicami @whore4abby @doepretty

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scarletwinterxx · 2 months ago

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the apartments we shared - yoon jeonghan imagine

hellooo ~ i had some free time so here i am😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You never thought you’d see him again.

Not like this, anyway.

The call came a week ago. A gruff, emotionless voice on the other end.

Jeonghan.

His name alone was enough to send a wave of emotions crashing over you, emotions you thought you’d locked away.

“I need you to come by next weekend,” he said, after a brief, awkward silence

“For what?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral, though your grip on the phone tightened

“The lease. They need both of our signatures since it’s a joint agreement.”

Right. The apartment. The one that had once been your shared sanctuary, filled with late-night conversations and lazy mornings. Now it was just another loose end to tie up.

“Fine. When?”

“Saturday. Noon.”

And that was it. No pleasantries. No apologies. Just business. Typical Jeonghan.

Or, at least, the Jeonghan he became after everything fell apart.

Mingyu insisted on driving you that Saturday, despite your protests.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, peering over the steering wheel with that concerned puppy-dog look he always gave you when he didn’t believe a word you said.

“I’m good”

“You’re acting like you’re fine, but I know you’re not,” he said, glancing over at you as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag

“I am fine,” you insisted, staring out the window

Mingyu sighed. “You’ve been a wreck all week. Don’t lie to me. You’re not over him.”

You turned to him, your eyes narrowing. “That’s not true. I’m doing fine.”

“Sure,” Mingyu replied, unconvinced. “But just in case, if he so much as looks at you the wrong way, call me. I’ll come in and punch him in that smug face of his.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But I’m serious.” He parked the car and turned to you, his expression softening. “Look, I just don’t want you to come out of this even more hurt. Be careful, okay?”

You nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car

The moment you walked in, it hit you. The faint scent of lavender from the air freshener he insisted on using, the familiar arrangement of furniture you once picked out together.

And there he was, standing near the kitchen counter, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

He looked the same and yet different. His hair was longer, brushing against his cheekbones, and his posture seemed more guarded, as though he was bracing himself for something.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice flat,

“Traffic,” you lied, though you’d been sitting in Mingyu’s car for ten minutes, trying to summon the courage to walk in.

He gestured toward the table. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You swallowed hard, sitting down across from him. The table felt like a chasm between you, one filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

You picked up the pen and scanned the document, signing your name with quick, decisive strokes.

“Your turn,” you said, pushing the papers toward him

He picked up the pen but hesitated, his fingers tightening around it. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now

You blinked, taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a brief moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes.

Regret, maybe, or longing.

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“No reason,” he muttered, signing his name and sliding the papers back to you

As you collected your things, you couldn’t help but blurt out, “Why didn’t you just send these through the landlord? Why call me?”

He froze, his hand lingering on the edge of the table. “Figured it’d be faster this way.”

“Faster,” you repeated, your voice laced with bitterness. “Right.”

And with that, you walked out, the sound of the door closing behind you echoing in your chest.

You walked out of that apartment feeling more hollow than you expected. Mingyu was waiting for you outside, leaning against the car with a knowing look.

“Well?”

“Done,” you said simply, sliding into the passenger seat

“That’s it?” Mingyu pressed, eyebrows raised

“What else did you expect?” you snapped, feeling the weight of his gaze.

“I don’t know—maybe something real? Did he even say anything?”

“No.”

Mingyu sighed deeply but didn’t push further, starting the car in silence.

Later that evening, Jeonghan found himself sitting in Seungcheol’s apartment, nursing a can of beer. Seungcheol was sprawled out on the couch across from him, his arms crossed, a disapproving frown etched onto his face.

“You’re an idiot,” Seungcheol said bluntly

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you too.”

“No, I’m serious. You saw her today, didn’t you?”

Jeonghan took a sip of his beer, avoiding his best friend’s gaze.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And nothing. We signed the papers. It’s done.”

Seungcheol let out a frustrated groan, sitting up. “You can’t keep doing this, man. You can’t keep pretending like you don’t care.”

“It’s not that simple, Seungcheol.”

“Isn’t it? You broke up with her because you thought she’d be better off without you. Fine. Stupid reason, but fine. But do you really think she’s better off now? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re both miserable.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeonghan muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“And now?” Seungcheol pressed, leaning forward. “What do you think now?”

Jeonghan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared down at the beer in his hand, his thoughts a jumbled mess. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I don’t know if I can fix it.”

“Of course you can,” Seungcheol said, his tone softening. “But only if you stop being a coward and actually talk to her. Tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel.”

Jeonghan looked up at his friend, doubt and hope warring in his eyes. “You think she’d even listen?”

Seungcheol smirked. “She loved you once, didn’t she? That doesn’t just go away.”

A week later, Jeonghan finally worked up the courage to text you. His message was simple, almost tentative, yet it carried the weight of everything he had left unsaid.

Jeonghan: “Can we talk?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like forever, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. A dozen responses ran through your mind, but none of them felt right.

Finally, you typed back, trying to mask the emotions threatening to surface.

You: “What’s there to talk about?”

His response came almost instantly, as though he had been waiting for yours.

Jeonghan: “Everything.”

You told yourself you shouldn’t go. That it wouldn’t change anything. But against your better judgment, you agreed to meet him. He chose the café where you had your first date—an unmistakable choice that sent a pang through your chest. Did he still remember the way he held your hand across that very table, the way he laughed when you nervously spilled your coffee?

When you arrived, he was already there, sitting at a corner table with a coffee in front of him. His hair, longer now, fell into his eyes as he glanced up and met your gaze. He stood quickly, his nervous energy radiating across the room.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful, as if afraid he might scare you off.

“Hi,” you replied, sitting across from him and clasping your hands together tightly on the table.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, memories hanging unspoken in the space between.

“Thanks for coming,” he finally said, breaking the silence. He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you recognized from years of knowing him. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Why am I here, Jeonghan?” you asked, your tone more impatient than you intended. “What do you want?”

He flinched slightly but didn’t back down.

“I wanted to see you. To say what I should have said months ago.”

“And what’s that?” You raised an eyebrow

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I made a mistake. Breaking up with you—it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

“You don’t get to say that now. Not after everything.”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice tinged with desperation. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know the truth. I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought… I don’t know, I thought I was holding you back. That you deserved more than me. And instead of talking to you about it, I ran. Like a coward.”

Your throat tightened as his words sank in. “You decided for me,” you said, your voice trembling. “You didn’t even give me a choice. You just left.”

His face fell, the guilt in his eyes almost too much to bear. “I know. And I hate myself for it every day. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just selfish. I didn’t want you to resent me for holding you back someday. But I see now that all I did was hurt you... and myself.”

You looked away, blinking back the sting of tears. “

You don’t get to just come back and say that like it fixes everything. Like it erases the months I spent trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

“I’m not trying to erase anything,” he said, leaning forward, his voice cracking. “I know I can’t. I just… I couldn’t stay silent anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending I’m okay without you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek despite your best efforts to stay composed. You quickly wiped it away, but he noticed. “Why now?” you asked. “Why are you saying this now?”

He hesitated, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Because I can’t live like this anymore. Seungcheol’s been on my case for months, telling me I’m an idiot for letting you go. And he’s right. I am an idiot. But I’m also the idiot who loves you—still. Always.”

His confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded. You searched his face, looking for any sign that he wasn’t being sincere, but all you saw was the Jeonghan you used to know. The one who made you laugh until your sides hurt, who memorized your coffee order, who kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You broke me, Jeonghan.”

His face crumpled, and he reached across the table, hesitating before his hand hovered over yours. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that you can. If you let me. Please, just let me try.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you covered your face with your hands. For a long moment, you couldn’t speak, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. When you finally looked up, his expression was one of pure hope, tempered by fear.

“What if we’re just setting ourselves up to fail again?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“We won’t,” he said firmly. “Because I’ve learned what it’s like to lose you, and I’m never making that mistake again.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart warring with your mind. Every logical part of you screamed to walk away, to protect yourself from more heartbreak. But then you looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the man you fell in love with, the man who was baring his soul to you.

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll give you a chance. But don’t waste it.”

His face broke into a smile, the kind you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. “I won’t. I promise.”

Six months later, you and Jeonghan stood side by side in a new apartment, the keys dangling from his fingers.

The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, but it felt like a fresh start.

“You ready?” he asked, turning to you with a grin.

“Ready,” you said, smiling back.

As you stepped inside together, his hand found yours, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right. This wasn’t about starting over; it was about moving forward—together.

#fic #story #au #svt #seventeen #seventeen jeonghan #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #exes to lovers #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenario #svt fic #svt scenario

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fadinggalaxysalad · 7 months ago

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another thought! sorry this is rotting beautifully and growing so many mushrooms apparently. God of Travelers Hermes sponsored the car. This means the car could somehow spawn supplies for when they get dropped off. Travel toiletries, a real blessing for these kids who have been on the streets for who knows how long and they don't have a camp counselor who will steal them from the store like Luke did yet. Road snacks because everyone knows a road trip isn't a road trip without snackies. Maybe Demeter stocks that with healthy goodies and Hestia Ultimate Auntie puts fun things in there too like gummies and sweets. This poor demigod is in the backseat bewildered and eating a granola bar watching Percy driving like a one man NASCAR race with one hand on the wheel and gesturing wildly with the while other screaming about how his brothers chariot moved faster with one wheel.

Thinking about other gods using the Demigod Delivery Service™️ but since it’s not a quest and more of Percy just choosing to go around as he pleases picking up godly kids along the way they pay for the service with various items/services/etc. some far more helpful than others.

Hephaestus giving Percy a phone designed not to attract monsters so he doesn’t have to keep getting jumpscared by gods appearing in his passenger seat (to some success. At least it doesn’t attract monsters anyway) in exchange for picking up one of his daughters in Kansas

Apollo leaving a self refilling med kit covered in sun stickers for his child in California.

Mr D (shockingly) leaving a cooler that’s always filled with drinks, including blue coke, and a note telling Perry to pick up his son in Oregon. (Percy occasionally pours out a Diet Coke in tribute though both he and Dionysus will deny it if asked)

And Ares (even more shockingly) tossing a handful of drachma and a half eaten pack of Oreos through Percy’s open window while he’s driving for his daughter in Texas.

Percy is frankly wondering how he turned out as an offshoot of the Hermes Express

#maybe Poseidon added ocean scented air fresheners #that way no matter how many times Grover catches a ride #it never smells like wet goat #Percys friends collect the worst stickers to put on the car #like the “Virginia Is For Lovers” one #and I Break For Turtles

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chaotickryptonitetree · 1 year ago

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grant me easiness and i'll give you everything (it's only fair) | jeremy swayman

what I feel about him is alarming and frighting and yap yap yap. hope you like!

Whoever claimed to enjoy airports had clearly never been an Uber driver.

Sure; the money was significantly better than a normal ride—but the traffic? And the poor temperament? And the confusing lanes? It made you question if it was even worth the money.

But there were bills to pay, so you added tonight to the list of nights you ended up at the rideshare terminal of the airport.

You knew by now that flights usually got in on the 10s (7:10, 8:10, etc), so people would have collected their luggage and made their way to ride shares by the 35s (give or take). Glancing at the dash cam, you read 9:32. As if on cue, your phone pinged with a few alerts.

Typically, you’d choose the one that offered the most money. But it had been a long night, with a lot of rides, and had made enough to finish a bit early. So you picked the one that would put you closest to home. And it happened to be Jeremy, who wanted to end up at a brownstone around 7 minutes from your building.

And you waited.

Just for a minute or two before a knock on the back window stirred you from completely zoning out. Instinctively, you unlocked the car and a body slid into the back seat.

“Jeremy?” You confirmed, not bothering to look back.

“How do you know that?” A cheery voice forced your hand, made you make eye contact with him in the mirror. Mistake.

“Are you Jeremy or not?” You were paid to drive, not indulge lazy jokes. Still, his kind eyes didn’t waver.

“Just messin,” he looked out the window and mockingly placed a light touch to the window. Despite yourself, you tracked the movement, watching his hands (his large, large hands). Mistake. “Driver, take me home.” He sighed a wistful sigh, and even though you didn’t want to, a small smile found its way to your face. Putting on the turn signal, you merged into the departure lane and turned up the stereo.

Checking your blindspot, you pulled onto the freeway—traffic was awful so it would be a long ride despite the short mileage.

“Temperature okay?” You asked politely, following your script.

“Just right!” You could hear the smile in his voice, even though you refused to look at him again.

“Music alright?”

“My favorite!” You raised an eyebrow at his response—top 40 radio was no one’s favorite. But that was your last question that usually made riders feel heard enough to give 5 stars. Slightly relieved (as always), you settled in for the drive.

Usually you spent the time working through a problem in your head, really getting into the whys and hows of something that was bothering you. One of your friends was being distant, so you started there. She had started this behavior about a month ago, so that could mean that—

“I flew in from Alaska,” that cheery voice interrupted your internal monologue completely.

“That’s nice,” your reply was non-committal. You didn’t usually talk to riders that much. Didn’t plan on making it a habit.

“Yup!” He popped the p sound. “I’m from there, and I was visiting my family. It was awesome—I really miss them when I’m here for a long time.”

“Nice.” You were out of practice making small talk with a new person (to put it lightly). He just nodded—the only indication being the sound of fabric moving around his neck as he did so.

“So, where are you from?” He leaned forward in his seat, as if genuinely interested—as if knowing where this stranger grew up was a seriously important part of his night.

“I don’t have to talk to riders just because,” you cringed at how mean you sounded. He didn’t even deflate a little, just leaned back and laughed a slightly weird laugh.

“Fair enough,” his tone made you wonder if he was always this happy, this unphased.

And then the music filled the space as much as your stale air freshener did—even if the air was tinged with a bit of guilt on your part.

“I can feel you looking at me,” your eyes darted to him again in the mirror. Brown eyes forgiving and kind and very, very cute.

“Not tryna hide it.” It could’ve been taken as flirting, but you had the impression that he was just like this with everyone. Still, it warmed your cheeks just a little bit. “I’ve just never had such a pretty Uber driver,” and then a moment later, “well, a pretty one that’s my age, I mean.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Pining after older women are ya?” He smiled easily, and it definitely was for him—easy.

“Look at this face and tell me I’m not a cougar's dream,” he laughed loudly. You didn’t look back for safety reasons (and convinced yourself that was the only reason). He leaned forward again. “I like it though,” his words felt like an admission, even if he didn’t lower his voice. Everything about him just felt—genuine? In a way that made every breath feel like a secret. “Makes me feel like I have a hot girlfriend who likes me enough to pick me up at the airport.”

You scoffed. If he wanted a hot girlfriend, it definitely wouldn’t be hard—not with his easy charm and pretty face. “I’m only here because I’m being paid.” You hesitated. “And there’s no way you don’t have someone who likes you enough to brave the traffic.”

You could sense his delight through your headrest. “Oh yeah I do,” he looked out the window again, “I have the best friends in the entire world. They were just busy tonight.” He sighed as if the idea of his friends was as good as having them in the seat next to him. It was quiet for a moment. “But no girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t asking,” your tone was blunt, but you couldn’t help but smile. He laughed his weird, goofy laugh.

“Call me a romantic,” he addressed you by name—something you typically didn’t like from patrons in your backseat—but it felt different with him. “But I want that—someone who wants to be the first person to see you when you get back, who can’t even wait to kiss you even if it’s in front of a whole terminal.”

“Sounds like you’ve been watching too many rom coms,” but that suddenly felt unkind to such a gentle man, so then a moment later, “I hope you find that.”

“I will,” he seemed absolutely sure. “Oh shoot,” he raised his fists to the sky mockingly. “My phone died. Curses!”

“I have a charger,” you looked around for the cord while still keeping an eye on the road. He stayed quiet for a moment, considering.

“No, I have an android,” he quickly put his phone in his front pocket, eyes squinting with trouble. Trouble that made you think that he definitely didn’t have an android. “Oh wait! I have an idea!” He completely over-sold his facial expressions, making you question where he was going with this little scheme.

“And what would that be?” your tone was dry, eyes still on the road as you took the exit off the freeway, only a few minutes from his destination.

“So I can give you your rightfully earned tip!” He reasoned, “you can give me your phone number so I can send you money once I get my phone charged.” You could feel his hopeful gaze on you, like his plan was the most logical course of action ever spoken.

Logistically, it made no sense. You could tip an Uber days after your ride. “And what—you’ll just remember my number until then?” For some reason that was the first question you asked.

He nodded, serious as you’d seen him. “Of course,” he said incredulously, “I remember important stuff.”

And it didn’t make any sense. And you could’ve said no. And this was probably against some sort of employer code. And he was definitely this charming with everyone. But he looked so endearing and hopeful and there was something very good about him. Something right.

So you rattled off your number, and he mouthed each number after you said it. And you believed him that he would remember it.

And you believed him as he opened the door to leave, wishing you a good night. And you believed him as he waved from the top step. And as he opened the door and turned around for one more look, mouthing goodbye.

Despite yourself, you believed him.

…

Your bed was heaven after a long stint in the car. Practically asleep before your head hit the covers, a notification sounded from your phone.

A message from an unrecognized number was the last thing you saw before sleep.

From: unknown

Sent $50

And then a moment later, after you saved his contact.

From: Jeremy

Any interest in meeting me at Dunkin on Tuesday morning?

You went to sleep smiling. He remembered.

…

You agreed to meet him early—you typically liked to start driving before 11 and he had morning skate.

The sun had just risen as you walked to a Dunkin about halfway between you and him, bundled up in a puffer jacket and a toque. The bell jingled above the door as you entered, blowing warm air into your hands. It was freezing out.

You didn’t even have time to glance around and look for him before a tall, broad body in a black coat walked up to you and held out his arms for a hug. And then you weren’t freezing anymore. Not even a little bit.

He released you with a smile, linking your arms together and pulling you into line. “What do you usually get?” You asked, convincing yourself that you certainly were not leaning into his side. Definitely not.

He peered down at you, tucked into his side, nose red from the cold. “Whatever looks good,” he admitted, “usually the thing with the most cream and sugar.”

You laughed—even if you didn’t really know him, the idea that he didn’t have an order, that he just let himself enjoy whatever he wanted (even if it had a ton of sugar), that seemed very him.

“I’ll get that too,” you definitely snuggled into his side more, but maybe it was so you didn’t have to face his genuine smile so head on. Maybe?

And so he ordered for you both, but not before complimenting the teenage cashier’s pride pin and asking what his favorite donut was.

“Dunno,” the kid had braces and posture that seemed to shrink in on itself, and was clearly not used to anything beyond what can I get for you, “sprinkle looks pretty good today.”

“Then two of those too,” he put the spare change (and a five) in the glass tip jar. “Thanks brother,” he put out his knuckles for a fist bump. The kid tapped his fist lightly to Jeremy’s, completely won over.

Like a puppy, he quickly found something else to entertain himself with while you waited. “We almost have matching jackets!” He gestured to his black north face and your navy one. You pulled a face—how could he find such delight in everything?

“I guess?” You pinched your face together. He didn’t mind.

“Very couple-y of us,” he put his hands up at the look you shot him. “I had to say it,” He shook his head like it was obvious. And it was so cute you didn’t give him a hard time about it.

“Thanks for paying,” you directed the subject elsewhere, “you didn’t have to do that.” He shrugged, eyes fixed on your drinks as the barista (are they called baristas at Dunkin??) set down two identically light and sweet drinks.

“My pleasure,” he grabbed the bag with two sprinkle donuts inside.

“I’ll send you my share,” you made to grab your phone from your pocket. His hand over yours stilled the movement entirely, warmth emanating from his palm.

“You got it next time,” he shrugged—like obviously there would be a next time. And you believed him, hand now interlaced with his.

“I know it’s bad for me,” he groaned as he took a sip, “but it’s actually the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” A completely innocent line, but it felt dirty as he said it. Or maybe you were just losing it over how his thumb moved over yours.

“Oh,” you responded quietly, taking a sip of yours. Total sugar bomb. “Well you’ll work it off anyways in practice I’m sure,” you fumbled over your words just a little bit. He seemed amused. “Like, looking at you, I’d never guess you have a sweet tooth,” you said, even though there was absolutely no reason to keep talking. He titled his head in delight. “Because you look totally in shape—you look, great. Yeah.” A true example of vocal mastery was on display tonight.

He took a bite of donut, his white teeth a sight so intimate it made you blush. He hummed while chewing, nodding. “Oh yeah? I’m not sure why you mean…should we keep talking about how hot I look?” He joked before pulling a very embarrassed you into his side and out into the chilly air. It didn’t feel as cold with his hand around yours though.

You laughed an embarrassed laugh. “Easy, you big dope, I was trying to be nice.” He laughed into your toque, head on top of yours.

“I know, I know.” And then he went into talking about how he wasn’t a fan of Dunkin before moving to New England and now he was addicted. And you just listened, toasty from humiliation and content as he walked you home, hand covering yours.

…

You offered to pick him up from practice later in the week (he had asked you to come to a home game, but you weren’t quite ready for that yet). He was right on time, waving an animated wave as he walked out the door with a few teammates.

You waved back (a bit more timid in the presence of his friends), and turned to que up your next song. He knocked lightly on the window, and you rolled it down. He was bent over, face in the window as he glanced toward the backseat.

“Want to meet my friends?” He asked politely, clearly excited.

You hesitated, which made him continue. “No pressure at all. If you don’t want to, I can hop in the backseat and we can pretend you’re my Uber driver again,” he smiled a grin that was so genuinely happy it made you less nervous. You turned off the engine.

“No way,” you unbuckled your seatbelt. “I wanna meet ‘em.” You opened the door and shut it softly behind you, wrapping your arms around yourself instinctively. He pumped his fist.

“Let’s go!” He seemed overjoyed. It was quite possibly the sweetest reaction to such a nothing event. You rolled your eyes, but let him pull you in front of him, large hands rested on your shoulders, steering you to face his two teammates.

He introduced you to them both (they were sweet, but there was something on their face that made you unsure if they were making fun of you or jeremy–or both–or no one). But listening to them banter back and forth while you stood pressed to the front of him made you realize that they just joked around like that.

Jeremy was usually the punchline–but he didn’t mind. He was easy to laugh, easier to smile, and made a point of pulling you impossibly closer to him. If his friends noticed, they didn’t say anything.

But then the fact that they didn’t say anything made you wonder just how many people he had introduced to his friends. Maybe they were having a non-reaction because they were so used to it? You stiffened slightly under his hands.

And he must’ve felt it, because he placed a feather-light kiss to your hair–which did pull a reaction from his boys.

“If you’re around on new year’s, we’re throwing something and you are obviously invited,” one of them nodded towards you, eyes a little wide.

“Obviously?” You questioned, but felt far more comfortable than a moment ago. The taller one laughed, eyes flickering to Jeremy’s briefly.

“Obviously,” he confirmed. “You think this is our first time hearing about you?” He shook his head, clapping the shorter one on the back. “Sway here wouldn’t shut up about you. If you didn’t respond to his text he was going to make us call every Uber in Boston until one of us got you as a driver.”

You hit his chest as you turned around. “You goof,” you meant to say–but the words died on your tongue when your eyes met his–so full of genuine enjoyment and content that it warmed you from the inside out. You turned toward them again, waving goodbye.

“I’ll see you on new year’s then.”

“Nice to meet you,” they parroted, smirking at Jeremy. “We’ll see ya sway.” He waved and let you pull him into the passenger seat.

“I like your friends,” you rubbed your hands together and blew on them. He smiled a radiant smile.

“You’ll love the rest of the guys,” he pulled your free hand into his lap, both palms wrapped around it, warming you right up. You drove the rest of the way home with one hand so he could keep a grip on you. He gave you a play-by-play of practice (which drills he did best on, what made him laugh the most, what he wanted to focus on for the next game), only coming up for air once.

“I really like you,” he said earnestly, as matter-of-factly as when he spoke about drills. It made you shake your head.

“Obviously I like you too,” the words felt good to be out–like you didn’t realize how true they were until you said them aloud.

He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Obviously?” You could feel his smile on the back of your hand.

“It's, like, impossible not to.” You pulled in front of his building, putting the car in park. Meaning to pull your hand back from him–a little embarrassed–but didn’t even make it over the console before he crushed you in a hug over the center console. The steering wheel dug into your side, nose crushed into his chest, hair static-y all over his puffer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to back out of it–arms rubbing circles against the back of his coat.

You had no idea how much time had passed when he pulled back, grabbed his bag from the trunk, and walked up to the front door. It was probably the longest he had gone without talking around you. But you didn’t mind. You liked him when he talked, when he didn’t, when he smiled, when he breathed.

You smiled all the way home.

…

You agreed to walk to the new year’s eve party together. It was just far enough away for you to prepare to meet more of the people from his world and hear about his last couple road games. Just hearing him talk made your nerves melt away.

He insisted on meeting on your doorstep, however, even though it added 10 minutes to his walk. He texted when he was on his way.

From: J

Be there in a few!

From: you

You need my address?

From: J

Course not.

And then.

I remember important stuff.

You went in for a hug as you opened the door–a new part of your routine.

“Hey,” your greeting was muffled into his puffer. His navy?? Puffer. One identical to your own. You thumbed the material and glanced up at him. “Nice coat?” You raised your eyebrows.

He laughed loudly, tipping his head back. “I wanted to match.” The way he said it made it feel obvious–tone like a noncommittal shrug. Like why wouldn’t he want to match?

The ease of the gesture was lovely. He was lovely. “Well then,” you linked your arm with his, setting off down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, “it is an honor to match with you tonight.”

He let a grin brighten his face. “You smell really good,” he breathed into your hair. “Like you always do. And I like the glitter you have–” He ghosted a thumb over your brow bone, “here.”

And the loveliness haunted you the entire walk over, conversation easy and light. He was so open, so kind, in a way that eased openness and kindness from you as well.

So the night was much better than you had expected. It felt natural to meet his friends, his teammates, their wives, their kids. It didn’t feel like being thrust into a brand new world. It just felt like natural–like getting another piece of Jeremy was a privilege.

And you didn’t feel out of place with how enamored you were with him–everyone here clearly was. He was the heartbeat of this group of people–and you felt lucky to watch him light up the room. And a little part of you felt proud that you were here with him.

The one who everyone wanted to be around–he wanted to be here with you.

“You’re too nice for him,” another new face laughed as he clapped Jeremy on the shoulder, looking down at you.

“Too nice?” You glanced at the palm resting over your stomach. Possibly the most gentle, kind touch you had experienced. How could anyone be too nice for that? “For him?” Your voice raised with confusion.

The young guy in front of you raised his eyebrows at the man behind you. “He didn’t tell you?” His smile was all trouble. “Our boy Sway likes to be a little roughed up,” he laughed at your blush, hidden by you turning around to gape at Jeremy. To wait for a rebuttal.

But it never came. He just laughed good-naturedly and hugged you into his chest. “Hey now, don’t scare her away!” He looked down at you, squeezed tight against his chest. “Lucky to have her here at all.” His smile was just for you.

And so you smiled and let yourself half forget about that comment. Met some more people. Drank some more wine. Smiled a lot.

But you couldn’t forget it entirely.

Some time later, he beckoned you over to where he sat on the couch. You finished up chatting with some of the women and made your way to him.

“Hey,” you stood in between his legs before he pulled you down to sit on one of his thighs with a thud. You felt him sigh into your hair as you leaned back so your head rested on his shoulder, hands reaching around the play with his fingers. He was solid and warm.

“Hey,” if you had to put money on it–you’d bet he was smiling. “Thanks for being a champ about this–they can be a lot.” You traced a nail over the outline of his hand. “But they’re important to me, so it makes me happy that they get to meet you.”

As intimate as a secret, spoken lowly in your ear. As secure as a fact, warming your chest.

“I like them,” you thought for a moment. “Even if they think I’m too nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “They’re just giving you a hard time. It’s a long story.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You can tell me if you want.” You could feel his chest rise and fall under your back.

“When I first signed, I showed up to practice all beat up once. Bruises, all that nonsense.” His eyes shone as he retold the story–like the emotions were just as fresh as they had been. “Told everyone I walked into a doorway–or something stupid like that. In the locker room later, everyone saw the marks this girl had left all over me.” He indicated scratch marks over where you lay on his chest. “All on my back and my neck and stuff. Never heard the end of it–how doors are really fighting back now and all that.” You just listened. “So yeah, they give me a hard time about it. But it’s no big deal–I didn’t want them to scare you or anything. If you’re not into that, don’t worry.”

He ducked his head into the crook of your shoulder, kissing behind your ear. You shivered, trying not to wiggle too much over his lap. Tilting your head towards him, you let your voice drop so only he could hear. “I’m into that.” His eyes went wide. “And I’m into you, so I can still be nice.”

He gulped audibly, making you smirk. “Like, I can be nice and tell you that you’re so good.” His face was as serious as you’d seen him. “Makes me wonder if you’d be so good for me.”

He nodded before he knew what he was nodding at, grip tight around you. “I would be.” His voice was clipped. “I’d be so good for you.”

You nodded back, chest on fire. You believed him.

You let your cheek rest against his sweater, eyes peering up at him–slightly flushed from the party and eyes a little tired. It had to be close to midnight.

As if on cue, the countdown began from the tv. Every voice in the room chanted along…10, 9, 8…but you almost didn’t hear them. Too busy looking at Jeremy. 7, 6, 5. You turned so your legs swung off the couch, sideways in his lap.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss,” he whispered, holding you upright against him. “Like a real one. Not just a friend or something.” 4, 3. You pulled him so close you could see the shine of his lip from his drink, feel the sweat on the back of his neck from his sweater.

2. 1. “Glad to be your first or something,” you grinned into the kiss, teeth knocking against his. He laughed a breathy laugh into your mouth, free hand palming the back of your head. His chest rose and fell next to yours, making you pull back.

“I’m so happy it’s you,” he admitted–probably the most embarrassed you’d seen him. You ran your hands through his hair, settling against his chest so he could put his chin atop your head.

You believed him.

...

happy new year! Love ya

#nhl fic #nhl imagines #jeremy swayman #bruins #boston bruins #david pastrnak #brandon carlo #charlie mcavoy #matt poitras

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detroitlib · 3 months ago

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'Detroit Tigers' car air freshener.

Ernie Harwell Sports Collection, Detroit Public Library

#detroit tigers #detroit #tigers #baseball #tiger #air freshener #vintage #sports #baseball history #mlb #let's go tigers #detroit public library

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joesheistyy · 2 years ago

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Family Barbecue

anon this was such a cute request, i love it and i hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! <3

——

It was your favorite time of year, the summer time. Time to spend with family and friends and especially some drinks. Every July, the Burrow family would host a family-wide barbecue. You had been attending for years, and Joe’s parents made sure that their planning always worked with your schedule and Joe’s schedule.

Ever since Joe brought you to the first family barbecue after being together for 5 months, his family knew that you were the one for him. You always offered to help cook, clean, entertain the kids, or do anything else they needed. They all saw how Joe looked at you too, with pride in his eyes.

This was year 5 of going to the family Barbecue, and Joe’s family kept poking fun at him about how he hasn’t popped the marriage question yet. They wanted it just as bad as you did.

“Joey, are you ready to go?” You yelled up the stairs from the kitchen. Joe took just as long as a girl getting ready some days.

“Yes baby, I’ll be down in a sec,” he responded back as you heard frantic footsteps up the stairs. You were a planner, and Joe was not. You had a timeline of what needed to be done when, and Joe just went with the flow until he got distracted and needed to be directed back to what needed to be done.

You headed out the garage door, loading your cooler of drinks into the backseat of Joe’s car. The snack bag you had packed followed the drinks. Your overnight bags were packed last. Since his parents lived an hour and a half away and there would be drinks consumed, his parents offered up their extra bedroom for the two of you.

After double checking your list that was stationed on the island, Joe finally came down the stairs, looking as handsome as ever. He was wearing just a basic pair of gym shorts, a bengals tshirt, and his white Nike athletic shoes. Of course, the dork had his shirt tucked in. That was something you always messed with him about.

“Cmon babe, we gotta go or we’re gonna be way late,” you said, leading the way to the garage to finally leave. An hour and a half drive still ahead of you.

Joe grabbed a bottle of water from the garage fridge and got in the car. You settled yourself in the passenger seat with your Nintendo Switch Lite with Animal Crossing ready to go. While you didn’t hardcore game, some Animal Crossing and Minecraft here and there were sometimes what you did to entertain yourself.

After hitting the road, Joe played his music and hummed along as you were focused on your game. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove along. Eventually, you got tired of playing your game, so you decided to take a short nap. You leaned your seat back a bit and propped up your pillow between your shoulder and the window.

"Can you let me know when we're like half an hour away?" you asked, Joe replied, "Of course babe, you gonna put on your makeup then?" he questioned, glancing over at you for a second. You replied with a hum and curled to a semi-comfortable place to nap.

pat pat pat

Joe patted you awake, you stirred and lifted the back of your seat up.

"We're half an hour away honey," he said, smiling in your direction as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Thanks Joey, now don't brake check anyone," you joked with him, poking at his arm. You pulled your makeup bag out of your car bag, opting for just some eyebrow filling and mascara, and of course highlight. That was your favorite step of your makeup routine.

As you pulled into Joe's parent's neighborhood, you collected your things in your bag and freshened up your outfit. You chose to wear your favorite pair of jean shorts and a cute flowy tank top.

Pulling into the driveway, Joe's parents came to greet you. The 3pm air was hot but with a breeze. Hugs were given and passed, and as you approached the house, Joe's nephew Jordan came running up to you.

"Y/n!" he cheered with his little 3 year old voice. That alone melted your heart.

"Hi Jordan! How's my big guy doing?" you asked and picked him up, resting him on your hip.

"Good! Let's go play!" He squirmed, wanting to be put down to go run around. You could tell he was fresh from his nap that was taken earlier. If only naps for adults were that rejuvenating.

"We can play here in a minute, but could you use your big, strong muscles to help us?" you tickled his stomach. He pretended to flex. He ran out to the car where Joe and his parents were, clinging to Joe's leg. Joe picked him up and gave him a little fist bump.

"Y/n said I can use my big muscles to help!" Jordan said with a smile on his face. Joe set him down and handed him the smallest bag. You grabbed your overnight bag and the cooler and headed inside with Jordan leading the way.

After placing your things in the guest room, you followed Jordan outside to go say hi to Joe's siblings and their partners. You cracked open your first drink of the night while Jim worked on grilling up some hamburgers and hot dogs.

Jordan pulled you over to the swing set, you set him in the swing that looked like a little car, pulling him toward you to get the momentum going. You continued to push Jordan in the swing as he laughed the cutest little laugh.

Joe was admiring from afar with a beer in hand. He was standing with his dad while he grilled, watching you play with Jordan, a smile spread along his face. You two had talked about kids before, but a ring needed to come first.

The next thing that Jordan wanted to do was race you and Joe. Of course, Joe said yes, setting his beer down to race.

"Okay, Jordan count us down," you say, lining up to begin to run.

"Okay y/n, 3...2..." and Jordan was off before the count of 1. You and Joe giggled, but eventually ran and tried to catch up to him. Jordan had passed the established finish line before you and Joe could get there. He jumped in excitement.

"I'm not letting you beat me, y/n" Joe huffed out as he began to run up to you, tackling you to the ground.

"Burrow, you're a quarterback, not a defensive end, my god," you groaned after hitting the ground, allowing laughs to escape your mouth. Jordan came over and giggled, climbing on top of Joe who was still on top of you.

"Uncle Joe sandwich!" you cheered and grabbed for Jordan's hand. You all giggled and eventually, Joe wormed his way out of being between you and Jordan. He outstretched a hand to you, helping you up.

Eventually, dinner was served and everyone gathered in the screened in porch to eat. Jordan insisted on sitting between you and Joe. Jordan's mom plopped his booster seat down in the chair between you and Joe. Jordan dug into his food as soon as it was set in front of him, ketchup ending up all over his hands, face, and clothes. As you ate, you would use your napkin to dab off Jordan's face, causing your napkin to turn red from the mess he had made.

Joe looked at you admirably, adoring how good you were with kids. You secretly hoped that Joe would see how good you were with kids and want to hurry up and propose already.

After dinner, Jordan helped you clean up the dining space by taking the empty paper plates to the trashcan and leading you to the paper towels so he could help you wipe down. You lifted him up to grab the roll off the island inside, carrying him like Buzz Lightyear back out to the patio, giggles filling the air.

The rest of the family had gone to sit out by the fire pit, insisting that you not do any cleaning up. But you couldn't just not help, it wasn't like you. And you could maneuver Jordan into doing anything with you, which also gave his parents a break.

Out at the fire pit, you could see the rest of the family laughing and joking. You admired Joe from the screened in porch while you waited on Jordan to run in and take the dirty paper towels to the trash can. Jordan ran out, tugging at your arm to go join the rest of the family.

You and Jordan joined the rest of the family, sitting down on the outdoor blanket. You sat criss cross applesauce and Jordan sat in your lap and played with your fingers while letting out yawns.

After a few more drinks, Jordan was asleep in your lap. His parents seemed ready to go, so you offered to help Jordan into his car seat.

You headed out to their car, carrying Jordan with his head resting on your shoulder.

"Thanks for playing with him and taking care of him today, y/n. It was a really nice break for us, he's a wild one," Joe's brother said.

"It's really no problem, I had so much fun with this little ball of energy," you chuckled as you set Jordan in his car seat, buckling him in.

"One of these days, I want y'all to give him a cousin," Joe's brother laughed out. You hugged and went your separate ways.

Joe and his parents had transitioned to inside the house, working to clean up the kitchen.

"How can I help?" you asked as you walked in on them all doing different cleaning activities.

"Babe you helped plenty today, go take a shower or relax. We got this," Joe said as he brought you into his embrace. There really wasn't much left to clean up.

After things had been cleaned up, everyone moved to the couch to sit and relax a bit before bed. It was about 9:30 and the exhaustion from the day was hitting you. You let out a soft yawn as Joe pulled you to lean into his shoulder.

"I think we're gonna head to bed. It's been a long day," Joe announces to his parents as he stands up off the couch. You follow.

When getting to your room for the night, you headed straight for the shower. Playing with Jordan all day got you sweaty and stinky, not to mention the July heat.

"Babe I loved watching you play with Jordan today. I can't wait for us to have our own kids one day. A little Joe and y/n stumbling around," Joe said, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"Me too Joey, me too," you sighed as you stepped into the warm shower.

After such a long day, a shower and some snuggles were great.

You and Joe were cuddled up into bed when he blurted out, "I love you, y/n and I want to marry you some day. I promise it'll be soon,"

"I love you too Joey, and I can't wait for that day. It'll be the best day of our lives," you smile as you close your eyes, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up alone. That's not normally how things went when you and Joe stayed with his parents. He'd wait for you so you could leave the bedroom together.

You slid on your slippers and headed for the kitchen, following the smell of bacon. When you began to approach the entrance to the kitchen, you heard conversation. Sometimes, you loved to eavesdrop, but you also hated to butt in during conversation, so you stood by the doorway, out of sight of Joe and his parents.

"So when are you finally gonna pop the question?" his dad nudged at him.

"Soon, I swear. I've got the ring picked out and everything, I just need to send it to my jeweler," Joe said as he set out silverware.

"We love her and it's about time she became part of the family for real," his mom spoke out, walking up to Joe to lovingly rub his back. His family had been pestering him for a while to propose, but he wanted to do it on his own time, which you understood.

"It'll be soon, I promised that to her and I promise that to you all. Cause after seeing her with Jordan yesterday, I know she is who I'm meant to marry. Not that I didn't have those thoughts before, it just really proved to me that it's about time I asked her to marry me," Joe responded in a soft voice, trying not to allow his voice to carry.

You stood in the doorway for a minute more just to make sure the conversation was over. Soon, you approached Joe and pulled him into a side hug. He held onto you for a minute before leading you both to fill your plates with breakfast food.

You had a peaceful morning with Joe and his parents. You loved his family and couldn't wait to officially join it.

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow asks #joe burrow oneshot #bengals quarterback #cincinnati bengals #bengals #nfl imagine #nfl #imagine #x reader #fanfic #football #joe sheisty

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months ago

Text

It's Who We Have | Part Seven

Summary: A cruel twist of fate has brought them together, and it might be enough to push them apart | Word Count: 5.6k~ | Warnings: mentions of terrorism, that episode of trigger point 🫣

A/N: guys we finally made it. The scene that made me start this series 😘 enjoy!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Despite knowing Billy had endured a rough night on the sofa, the morning revealed the aftermath in his dishevelled hair, longer stubble, and tired countenance, as if he battled a tempest in his sleep.

Surprisingly, slipping into his bed felt oddly natural, shedding only her jeans and bra before nestling beneath the sheets, enveloped by the familiar scent that wrapped around her like a tender embrace. Despite the temptation to invite him to share the bed, she resisted, though her heart tugged against her rational mind.

The tension between them simmered beneath the surface, palpable in the silences punctuated by sporadic conversation and the noisy sips of tea. The oppressive heat of the day seemed to sap the air from her lungs, despite every window cracked open in Billy's flat. And yet, each time she stole a glance at him—clad in nothing more than worn joggers and a shirt clinging to his chest with sweat—her mouth inexplicably grew drier, amplifying the unspoken desires lingering between them since childhood, heightened by the previous night's fleeting kiss.

After freshening up a reasonable amount, she gathered the things she’d bought with her, ensuring it was alright if her car was left in its spot while Billy offered to drive her to Farringdon Tube Station. It felt like they were making up for the awkward flirting and silences from when they were teenagers, and she cursed herself for how easy it was for him to make her cheeks warm without seemingly doing much at all.

She sighed as they left the street-level door, the heavy weight of humidity dragging her down to the earth with every stifled step. Billy’s car wasn’t fancy, as she’d found out the night he’d driven her home from the pub with Abi and Libby strewn across the back seat and the way the weight of them made his car scrape against every speed bump on the way home. They smiled at one another awkwardly over the roof of the battered Vauxhall as Billy unlocked his door and both slid inside, groaning once again at the air inside the car somehow even worse.

“Why don’t you put the air-con on?” she asked, sliding into the passenger seat, plopping her bag between her feet.

Billy scoffed with a boyish smile, the key needing two turns before the engine fired into life, “fucking air con. They just blow hot air at you.”

God, it was nice to see him smile.

Nothing was said about the night before. She figured he might need a moment to collect his thoughts, as Billy often did.

He was a thinker. Quiet. Always had been. And though age has wisened him somewhat to this behaviour, some things never changed.

She didn’t mind. All she had was time. And if needed she’d wait for him to broach the subject whenever he was ready for it.

It only took twenty minutes for him to pull up to a slow stop beside the tube station. It was busier than usual, but being a Saturday, it was rife with people and groups of all types, and not only that, but she furrowed her brows at the group of people gathered in the middle of the road, with signs held high, and angry expressions.

“Bloody hell, what’s all this about?”

Billy sighed, his thumb rubbing his his forehead in annoyance, “fucking protest.”

She hummed and gathered her bag from the footwell, apparently seeing Billy was in no mood to delve into the confusion mix that was his emotions.

But her hand barely brushed the door handle.

“Wait..” he practically breathed without effort, fiddling with the gear stick as if he needed something to do with his hands “Can we…at least try and talk about last night?”

She couldn’t really read his expression. And she felt her heart beating so hard in her chest she was sure he could sense it. A sort of dread pooling there at the thought he hadn’t meant any of it, and that he was too drunk at the time to speak clearly.

She still felt his hand on her stomach, fingers barely stealing beneath the waistband of her jeans.

Billy wet his lips, his sandy blonde hair falling into his face. Her heart raced with uncertainty, hoping that her not moving an inch and her hand falling from the car door was enough of a reply.

“I just…I need to know if last night meant anything to you.”

Her breath caught, emotions swirling in her gut like a hurricane. A barrage of feelings made her feel nauseous, remembering how she had slept, with his scent permeating her senses, unable to sleep with the tingling to her lips and the inescapable idea that there was no going back.

If she had known that Billy had done somewhat the same. Laid on the sofa, arm thrown over his eyes, confused and pent up in equal measure, unable to relax at the idea that the woman he’d kissed, and bared all for, was asleep in his bed.

“Of course it did,” she replied softly, her eyes fluttering with vulnerability, “but…did it mean anything to you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze falling to the floor before meeting hers again, as if her question directed back at him had taken him off guard, “Yeah,” he confessed. “It meant everything.”

A wave of relief soared through her so much she felt weightless, coupled with a sense of longing she was now unable to suppress.

“Then what now?” she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty and yet hope.

He sighed through his nose, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, in a gesture that made her heart squeeze, “I don’t know,” he admitted, his thumb lingering to graze her cheek, “But…can we figure it out together?”

With a hard swallow of her own, she nodded sincerely, and feeling a surge of courage, she leaned in closer, her heart pounding as she leaned in to close the distance between them. With a gentle touch, she pressed her lips to his, a silent affirmation of their unspoken connection. But the only affirmation Billy needed.

Billy’s breath caught in his throat, his hand still lingering on her cheek as he returned the kiss, his lips meeting and moulding to hers with a tender urgency. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, leaving only the warmth and promise of what lay ahead, whether it was a difficult path to pave or not.

The angry beep of the horn from a car behind them made them break apart with a stifled and awkward giggle, cheeks all warm, but a silent understanding lingering. He let out a low chuckle, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

She smiled warmly back at him, her heart fluttering with newfound excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. "Me too," she confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached for the door handle. “Still promise?”

For a moment, he looked lost, until he remembered what he would do to break himself from the hatred and judgement of the people he was currently involved with. And he nodded, “promise.”

Her fingers pulled the clunky door handle.

“Hang on, Lana’s ringing. She’s been calling me all bloody morning.”

She looked back and waited, watching as Billy put Lana on speakerphone, already seemingly annoyed with the conversation before it had even started.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Lana sounded ragged on the other end, as if she were walking quickly, “where are you? Sound like you’re in the car?”

“Yeah was driving to meet my mates, why?”

“What mates? Anyone I know?”

She furrowed her brows. When was Lana ever protective of Billy? It wasn’t like her at all. Usually she’d want as little as possible to do with whatever Billy busied himself doing. Although she couldn’t deny, perhaps his big sister was just as afraid for what he’d got involved in as she had been.

“Just mates, Lana. Why what’s going off?”

“Listen, Billy, I just needed to call you. You’ve not been answering my calls. You’ve not been about-wh-where are you driving to?”

Billy nearly stalled the car, lurching it forward slightly and bumping one of the protestors, and all at once they were surrounding them, with angered faces and patting at the car windows.

“Billy. Billy.”

He sighed, flashing two fingers to a protester on his side, “Farringdon Tube Station.”

“Listen, Billy, it’s important, what are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

His fingers gripped the steering wheel, flashing a confusion expression to her across the centre console at how worried Lana sounded, and how his sister was doing a piss poor job of hiding it in her voice, “I was meant to meet the lads but they’re not here. Outside the tube he said, but I can’t see them. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

“Billy, why did you drive, was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mates asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.”

She did have a glance around, surmising that these ‘friends’ should have been here by now.

Why was dread pooling in her stomach?

Something felt wrong. Like it was pulling her to the spot she was sat.

“Yeah they’ve set me up, haven’t they? Havin’ a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads.”

There was that little pang of sadness again. The familiar sound of Billy being let down.

“Billy, these new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

He rubbed his nose, scrunching it as if his sister could see, “Lana, what you on about?”

“Nick. Nick Roberts, he’s a…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

That dread began to mutate into fear then.

Her fingers started to shake.

“You’re winding me up, aren’t you.”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking winding you up?! Have any of them been near your car? Look around, is there anything different about it?”

“Got a mate fixing up my car.” he’d said just the day before.

She felt as if she might vomit.

“Eh?”

“For fucks sake, Billy! Listen to me! I need you to check the car for me, okay? Have a look under the steering wheel or under the footwell, anything you can see that might be unusual.”

Fear invaded Billy’s voice then, and it made her feel no better about her own, “right…yeah…”

She watched her friend. Her friend? No. The man she loved clawed about his car with shaking hands, dropping various bits onto the floor. A sponge fell from the dashboard, revealing the old, used lipstick tube that Becky must have owned. Packs of ibuprofen. Scrunched up receipts.

Every bit of Billy's daily life crumbling apart in search of danger that lingered inside.

And all she could do was watch on in horror, unmoving.

Her trembling feet shifted across as if she were cowering, when Billy lifted the foot mat and he himself, froze with parted lips.

“Lana there’s some masking tape underneath the foot mat.”

Lana's reaction over the phone mirrored hers, and she heard a hard breath crackle on the other line.

“Alright, okay, can you…really carefully lift up the masking tape?”

An acrid fear bubbled at the back of her throat.

“There’s…there’s a wire, Lana.”

A pause.

Come on Lana.

“Can you see where it’s leading to?”

The way Billy held the wire between his fingers so lightly made her want to shut her eyes right and never open them again. It lead to an opening between the glovebox and the door, such a tiny hole that nobody would have noticed unless they looked closely.

“The…the glove box…”

Their eyes met briefly. His stuttering voice made her want to weep and even more so the look of wide-eyed horror in his gaze.

Come on, Billy.

She swallowed dryly, as his fingers tugged the glovebox open with a haunting click.

Silence enveloped her, suffocating in its intensity.

Her gaze fixated on the ominous device nestled amidst the tape and wires, its menacing presence choking Billy's car in a miasma of dread. Each heartbeat echoed louder than his fading voice, each second stretching into an eternity as she grappled with fear's paralysing grip.

Her fingers, entwined around the car handle, hovered in limbo, caught between fleeing into uncertainty or surrendering to the looming threat. A call from Lana had shattered the fragile peace, leaving her teetering on the precipice of terror.

With a quivering exhale, she released her grasp, her hands trembling with a raw, primal energy. The world outside, once vibrant with life, now seemed tinged with an ominous shadow. Farringdon Tube station teemed with unsuspecting souls, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath the surface.

Dread clawed at her insides, a nauseating churn of realisation settling in her gut like vomit. These people, innocent and carefree, were now unwitting pawns in a deadly game. Families frolicked, children laughed, teenagers revelled in their youth—all oblivious to the impending peril.

A chill swept over her, a cold sweat tracing the length of her spine, pushing her seat back as far as it would go to distance herself from the danger staring back at her. Billy's panicked voice crept back into her ears, a stark reminder of the impending catastrophe that loomed ever closer.

“Fucking. Hell. Shit, shit, shit, it’s hooked up to summat…looks like a bomb” “I’ve got to get out the car, if it explodes I’m done for man, I’m gonna die-”

“No! Billy! Do not get out the car! Do not get out the car. You just need to stay calm and listen to me, alright?”

She reached out with urgency as Billy made the move, calmly pulling him back with a softened gaze, “Billy, hey, look at me. It’s alright, I’m here…”

Lana's urgent tone cut through the tension like a knife, her concern palpable even through the crackling phone connection. "Billy, who's in the car with you?" she asked suddenly, her voice sharp with urgency.

Billy was still trying to catch his breath, so she replied, “it’s me…Billy was giving me a lift to the station, I-I didn’t know-”

“Shit…”, her heart raced as Lana's voice crackled through the phone once more. "Listen to me, both of you," Lana said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I need you to stay calm and listen carefully. Keep the line open and put it on speakerphone so I can hear everything."

"Okay... okay..." she whispered to herself, her voice a mere murmur of reassurance amidst the chaos. With a gentle touch, she rubbed Billy's shoulder, offering him what comfort she could, prioritising his well-being over her own rising fear.

He swallowed his breath, attempting to keep it in his chest as he looked over at her with glassy, blue eyes, realising he had not only put himself in danger, but both of them. She saw the guilt and dread fall in his gaze.

"Right, we're gonna go to Cranstead Fields, Billy, you know it, yeah?" Lana's voice echoed through the car, her words a lifeline in the darkness of their situation.

“Yeah…I know it,” his voice was resigned, his fingers finding the steering wheel with anxiety.

“I’ll meet you there, it’s gonna be okay.”

But despite Lana's constant encouragement, she could sense the distrust emanating from Billy with each passing moment. Doubt clouded his features, scepticism shadowing his every move. He didn't believe her.

He didn't believe her.

What almost scared her more was Billy’s erratic driving, taking corners too quick and being generally careless. His crumbling belief he’d make it out of this alive swallowed by dread.

“You’ve got to tell Mum and Dad I’m sorry, yeah?”

“Billy, tell them yourself, you’re gonna be fine!”

She pressed her legs together as if trying to curl herself into a ball of safety, hands braced on the seat, trying to calm the heavy beating of her heart.

Her eyes screwed shut at the exchange between Billy and Lana, whispering so quietly to herself for him to calm down and drive carefully.

Her eyes flew open and Billy leaned over though as something within the glovebox beeped. A light illuminated several numbers on the screen, showing all 0s, before settling and counting down with a harrowing beep from 08:00.

“Shit…”

“What’s happened?”

“There’s a timer, Lana…it’s a fucking timer.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Sanity slipped with every second. And she's ashamed to admit she jumped when Billy punched the steering wheel.

“Shit! Shit! Fuck!”

“Listen, Billy, I'm gonna help you, but you need to focus, okay? You just need to concentrate on getting to the park. When you get there, drive straight onto the field, you'll be fine. I promise.”

She exhaled shakily, wanting desperately to believe Lana on the other end, but gripping the passenger seat so hard her fingernails were digging into the material, and Billy's reddened and panicked face made it all the more difficult.

And as if it couldn't get worse.

“Fucking hell, my battery's gonna die,” Billy uttered in a tremor, watching as his phone went black screen just as Lana was about to say something.

Billy breathed through his nose loudly, chest moving with laboured breaths, he whispered, “come on, please, say something, talk to me, please.”

He begged like a mantra.

And though she couldn't trust her voice to sound at all comforting, she tried anyway, “we’ll be fine…Lana knows what she's doing, okay…she'll know what to do…”

Billy must have heard the sheer terror in her voice, and as he glanced aside, the way the tears were just starting to glitter her cheeks, he reached over and squeezed the skin above her knee in an attempt to make her feel safe and grounded.

Her hand simply joined his, interweaving their fingers momentarily. Gripping to him like he was the last thing on earth she could feel.

She shifted in her seat as Billy took the corner into Cranstead Fields, tyres screeching as he drove out onto the green, parting a friendly football game as he beeped for them to move out the way. She spotted one single police car as he passed it and felt her heart clench.

Even when they came to a stop, she caught sight of them running angrily towards her in the side mirror and immediately used both hands and all her strength to pull the door towards herself.

“Get away from that car!”

The lads surrounded them, sweaty hands pawing at the windows with annoyed grunts. Billy quickly pushed his lock down, and she closed her eyes as one particular lad stopped at her window and attempted to pry the door open. It felt as if she were breathing so loudly that blood was coating her tongue.

Only when they ran off did a man in uniform stop at Billy's window, a man she didn't recognise but he must have.

“Billy, Billy look at me, it's Hass. Stay still, okay? We're gonna work around you.”

Fuck. He spoke as if he had no clue what to do.

Lana's car grew in the distance, and she breathed partly in relief as Hass moved away towards her.

“Hass, I'm fucking losing it-” Billy started.

She shifted aside and reached out to hold his arms, “Billy…Billy, look at me,” she had to hold his face for him to finally hear her, “just you and me…it's alright…”

He shook his head, “I-I'm so fucking sorry, I-”

“Stop. Just breathe, okay…it's just you and me…”

She was almost shocked by her own words. Inside, she felt as if she were already dying and gasping for air. Only finding oxygen when Billy's eyes softened only slightly and he nodded, leaning his tacky cheek into her hand.

She blinked when Lana's dishevelled head popped around Billy's window.

Lana forced a smile, “I'm here. It's me. It's gonna be fine. Just stay really still, I'm gonna have a look around the car. Don’t touch anything, I’m just gonna check the car okay?”

Lana side-stepped wearily around it, and something changed in her gaze when she did, as if slipping right into work-mode before their very eyes. Her hand was still resting on Billy’s shaking forearm, while he leaned over her side with a mortifying sense of curiosity and foreboding, checking the numbers tick down on the display.

Lana didn’t say a word as she zoned in on the passenger window.

“How bad is it?” Billy asked, as if in desperate need of some good news.

If there was one thing about Lana she knew, it was that she was fucking horrendous at lying, “it’s fine.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, man, how bad is it?!”

If it were any other situation, she would have laughed at them both. And the brief glimpse into what would have been their normal sibling banter did make the battering of her heart slow somewhat.

She could tell by the rising intensity of Billy's voice and the way he couldn’t relax that he was slowly losing it without the comforting words of his sister. And it did nothing for her nerves either when she watched Lana disappear to the police car in the distance and she noticed with a shrill freeze of her heart, a sniper aimed towards the car, in case either of them made a move to escape.

For Billy’s sake, she didn’t say a thing. And she felt more and more powerless the more Billy’s eyes watered, face reddenned in primal fear, “Lana, fucking get me out the car!”

His sister’s expression was stern, constantly fighting a battle between having to be professional and calm for work and yet comforting and loving as a sister to her little brother who gripped the steering wheel tight, and stared at her, wanting nothing more than to open the dreaded door into false freedom.

“Listen to me! Look at me! The timer means nothing. They’ve put it there as a trick so you open the door! Can you hear me! Don’t touch it! Stay still! Listen to me, I’m your sister.”

Billy had long checked out of reason. He just began to plead ceaselessly. Lana’s constant reassurance that she was his sister didn’t seem to mean a whole lot to him at this moment.

“Just trust me”, Lana begged wearily.

She shook her head. He doesn’t.

Even with those words, she saw the way Billy pleased ‘please, please’ as a means of self-soothing, unable to help himself from glancing over at the dreaded glovebox. She felt his control fading quickly.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

Both of them froze, watching the timer disappear off the screen.

“Lana?” Billy called pitifully.

Vomit rolled in her gut when after a few moments, the timer beeped once more back to life, tauntingly counting down from 30.

“Lana, do something!”

She’s too far away, she can’t hear us. She thought.

Billy’s palm smashed against the steering wheel in both grief and desperation, “Lana!”

“Billy, look at me,” she pleaded quietly at first.

Time slowed into a slow drag as Billy’s body turned his body, fiddling with shaky fingers to the lock at the corner of the window. Both dread and panic rolled in her, glancing at the sniper primed to discharge, and felt the hasty need to save Billy from himself, as she had done before.

“Suspect is unlocking door. I repeat, sus-”

“Billy!”

Had it been different, she would have apologised for the way her nails dug into his flesh as she wrenched him away. And at first, it scared her how much he flailed and fought to escape her, until she took his cheeks in her palms and forced him to look at her.

“For fucks sake, Billy, look at me!”

His blue eyes were wide and glassy, red rimmed with tears, rosy lips parted to suck oxygen into his lungs, hands wrapped around her forearms so, so tightly. The beep of the timer only seemed to taunt them, with the reminder of how little time they had left.

And she thought with some ache in her chest, that if these were indeed her last few seconds, she would be fine with that, looking into Billy Washington’s desperate eyes as they flitted over her face. She hadn’t realised that the tears had quickly made their way down her own, emotions and panic pushing the control from her.

Time was slipping away, their fate hanging by a thread, and she could feel it unravelling beneath her fingertips.

She shook her head, eyes fluttering, “u-um…think of a nice memory, come on-”

He tightened his grip, blinking a few times, “O-okay…y-your first day of school.”

Despite everything, a smile threatened to break across her face.

“Okay…okay…” she nodded, “do you remember how you were there for me then?”

He nods, “yeah, I do-”

“Now let me be here for you…okay?”

All Billy could do was nod to her, and she took the brief opportunity his eyes were closed to steal a glance at the sniper, now relaxed, seeing through his viewfinder that there was no longer immediate danger. The man she remembered was named Hass was trying his best to hold Lana back, waiting for the inevitable.

For either the timer to go off, and the car would be filled with flame and heat. Or nothing.

She sniffled, “you remember? I was covered in mud…I still remember you blushing going into the girl’s toilets.”

He sobbed loudly, shaking, head bowed against her chest, his whole body covered in perspiration with stress.

“Mum fucking bollocked me for that you know,” she adds with a watery laugh.

He rested his head against her chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath his cheek. His hands encircled her waist, holding onto her as if she were his lifeline, and she reciprocated, clutching him tightly, her fingers tangling in his damp, tousled hair.

“It’s always been us, right? It always will be,” he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion.

“Always,” she affirmed softly, her own voice trembling with unshed tears.

“You're everything,” he confessed, his words choked with emotion, the impending threat of their demise hanging heavily in the air.

Their embrace tightened, the outside world fading into oblivion as they held onto each other, finding solace in the precious moments they had left together.

The timer continued its relentless countdown, each passing second felt like an eternity. She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion. The tension in the car was palpable, suffocating them both as they braced themselves for the worst.

But as the timer reached zero, there was only silence. No deafening blast, no fiery explosion. Just the sound of their ragged breaths filling the air, mingling with the faint hum of the engine.

Confusion washed over them, disbelief etched into their expressions as they exchanged bewildered glances. Had they miscalculated? Was this some twisted twist of fate?

The bomb hadn't gone off.

They were still alive.

She turned to Billy, her heart pounding in her chest, and found him gazing at her with a mixture of disbelief and relief mirrored in his eyes.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips pressing urgently against hers in a desperate kiss. It was a frantic, desperate attempt to grasp onto life, to affirm their existence in the face of imminent death. Every touch, every caress, was a silent plea for more time, a fervent prayer that they had not cheated death in vain.

The lingering danger remained, tucked into the glovebox as they broke free from the kiss, trying to paw back control between themselves.

For a brief moment, Billy thought, what if she hadn’t been here?

He jumped when EXPO began to surround the car, but didn't break free from her. They stayed like that for long, long moments, not wanting to part from this delicate balance.

She couldn't really even pay attention to what they were saying. It was all meaningless jargon to both of them. All they knew was that they took were clinging to the hope that two people would not die today, it wouldn't be them.

Lana murmured to Hass, “extract Billy first through the rear window, he's the most unstable-”

“No! Get her out first!” Billy protested.

“Billy, calm down, we'll get you both out, okay?” Lana replied calmly, her tone trying to diffuse the situation. Her hand gripped Billy's tighter as he argued.

“Fuck no-”

“Billy,” she whispered, tracing his knuckles with her thumb, “it's okay, I'll be right behind you, okay?”

She thought, she wasn't doing a very good job getting the shake out of her voice. But she implored him all the same to just do what she asked of him. He would be safe…

The EXPO team managed to pry the rear window without shattering the glass, and as it thunked to the floor, cooling air pooled in, making the sweat sticking to her clothes feel chilly.

“Alright, Billy, very slowly, put your seat back as far as it will go-that’s it-so it's nice and flat-” Hass instructed calmly, and she watched him with bated breath, “now slowly, if you can, climb over towards us…”

Billy licked his lips, pulling every strength he thought he had deep inside. His legs felt heavy. Body wracked with stress. And every step he took, he felt as if he was on the precipice of passing out.

Hass and a uniformed officer were the ones who pulled him free. And as soon as she saw Billy disappear out the rear window to safety, she felt that sinking feeling of loneliness once again settle in her chest.

She could even hear Billy's protest, fighting against the police officers trying to push him towards the ambulance, “I'm not going anywhere until she's out- get her out!”

She swallowed thickly and blinked quickly, trying to steady the quivering of her hands in mid air. Her eyes kept being pulled to the tightly wrapped package in the glovebox in front of her. Voices fading into nothingness.

Hass knocked on her window, and she jumped in her spot.

“Okay now, I need you to really slowly, like Billy just did, tilt your seat back.”

She nodded but it was merely out of sheer instinct. The words were scrambled.

Her legs felt like jelly as she slowly pushed the seat back, her airways feeling constricted from the force of her tears. Turning her body she gripped the headrest and rested her knees on the seat, trying her hardest to breathe deeply.

“Come on, it's alright, you're totally safe,” Hass soothed from the view out the rear window. Billy was not far behind, beside Lana, watching with a face of worry and bloomed by the harsh sun.

One leg stretched forwards, with arms on each headrest, seeing freedom, her movements were too quick, and her foot slipped between the seat and the gearstick. She tugged a few times, frustration and panic only exacerbating her grief at the last hour.

“Come on, you're doing so well, baby,” Billy's soft, airy voice was closer. She saw his face with blurry vision out the rear window, his figure bathed in warmth and light.

His hand outstretched. But she couldn't reach it. She was frozen in limbo between the swallowing darkness of the bomb behind her, and the open and safe closeness of her dear friend, and the man she loved.

Years of adorning that mask of self reliance, of building the walls high around her heart seemed to melt off of her. And when she saw Billy's face looking at her through the rear windscreen, she thought that she simply wanted to be the little girl in the green coat, even if it was just for one last time.

She nearly sobbed when Billy crawled back into the car, blatantly ignoring the protests behind him, she felt his hands around her waist and ribs, to pull her gently free.

Her arms hugged him frantically, the fresh grass and the familiar Billy scent enveloped around her. His form swamped her, his breath kissing at her neck where his head was buried in her shoulder as he lowered them to the ground.

Over his shoulder, through the clarity after her tears, she glanced at the spot where so many times Billy had done just this.

Comforted her. Kissed her. Loved her.

“You're everything to me,” he whispered lovingly. Her eyes fluttered shut at his words, a soft whimper muffled by his shoulder as she buried herself in him.

“Billy…”

Not even the urgent commands from first responders could tear them apart, their grip on each other only growing tighter as they were ushered away from the car.

And when the controlled explosion echoed through Cranstead Fields, sending shockwaves through the air and coating the grass in a blanket of blackened debris, they remained steadfast in their bond, their love burning brighter than the flames that engulfed Billy's car.

Even as the flashing lights illuminated the darkness, and the blaring sirens pierced the silence, they held onto each other, their hearts beating as one against the chaos that threatened to tear them apart.

Billy's eyes scanned the chaos, desperately seeking her familiar face amidst the flurry of activity. But she was already being ushered away, swallowed by the darkness of another ambulance, her figure growing smaller with each passing second.

With Lana's comically small stature pushing Billy gently, he saw through the sea of heads and mischief, her eyes, bright and glimmering with tears as he had always known her.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #trigger point series #trigger point itv #trigger point fanfic #trigger point billy washington #billy washington smut #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington angst #billy washington fic #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x female #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters

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melis-writes · 2 months ago

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(2024) My current collection of The Godfather/The Godfather Part II Merch Part 1!

You can check out my Al Pacino merch collection here!

Part 2 here!

All purchased in 2021 when I was in Turkey! From the top, left to right, "A Life on The Wire" is an autobiography about Al. The one and only, "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo, and the bottom left there is actually a blank Godfather notebook I purchased in Turkey as well. I have the Coppola Restoration of all 5 discs in a collection for the films and extra contents!

Godfather I and II posters! Also all purchased from local online retailers in Turkey from 2021 and 2022.

A little cardboard Vito cutout! I bought this in a local bookstore in Turkey in 2022.

My prized Michael Corleone 1:6 figurine! 🥺🖤 I got him from Aliexpress, but he certainly did not look like this because his face/head was different and he was wearing a blue suit (that he never wore in any movie ever). If I didn't modify Michael, he would have been about $350 CAD or so. He looked like this before:

I put together about $100 CAD of modifications on him to get a new had, new hands and a new suit, and voila!

My Godfather phone cases!

My Godfather funkos are everything! 🥺 Vito and Michael are the only ones that have 2 funkos from the first two films.

A Godfather air freshener is needed in my car, of course. 🤭

A cute Godfather Part II poster gifted to me by my best friend alongside more merch in 2021!

This here I was so pleasantly shocked to find in a local Turkish bookstore in 2022. I couldn't find an English version of this to save my life. It was titled (translated) as The Godfather Family Album. It's extremely unique in terms of the content inside, like a folder keeping tabs on all of the events, newspaper clippings and character profiles!

The Godfather magazine I purchased off Amazon (Canada) in 2022.

The official motion picture archives book of The Godfather from Amazon (Canada).

A 3D printout (made by a local seller in Turkey) of The Godfather's title on top of a set of Godfather playing cards (also bought from a novelty store in Turkey) in 2022.

A Godfather mug that reads "I don't apologize to take care of my family" with Vito on one side and the film's logo on the other. Found in a Turkish bookstore in 2022!

A 3D printout bust of Vito Corleone, made by a local Turkish seller I bought in 2022.

Probably one of my all time favourite merch pieces ever... this huge, glossy photo filled Godfather Family Album. I cannot recommend this enough for diehard Godfather fans! 🖤

Michael Corleone in The Godfather Part II as a phone case. 🤭

Hands down my favourite movie poster of The Godfather Part II.

A Godfather board/card game called "An Offer You Can't Refuse" was the first Godfather related game of any kind I bought in 2022 from a private seller in Canada.

The Godfather trivia game!! I've yet to meet anyone who can beat me when it comes to the first two films' trivia. 🤭😂

A mini Godfather music player that absolutely plays the most dazzling little version of the film's theme song next to a lego version of Vito! The lego vito was gifted to me in 2021 by my best friend. I bought the music player from Aliexpress in 2022.

#al pacino #michael corleone #the godfather #the godfather part ii #sonny corleone #santino corleone #vito corleone #marlon brando #james caan #melly talks #tom hagen #robert duvall #fredo corleone

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a-spicy-reader · 5 months ago

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Private Invitation

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes

Synopsis: In the sultry ambiance of a private room, Selina captivates Johnny and his friends with a tantalizing pole dance. The night takes an unexpected turn when Selina is whisked away for a private engagement

---------

The dimly lit club buzzed with anticipation as the smooth beats of The Weeknd's “One Of The Girls” began to play. Johnny and the other members of NCT 127 sat in a private room, the thick velvet curtains ensuring their privacy. The soft glow of the lights creates a warm and inviting atmosphere, perfect for the intimate show that is about to begin. They were leaning back on plush sofas, drinks in their hands, the smell of expensive cologne mixing with the subtle scent of the room.

'I feel so empty, I don't feel whole…'

A stunning dancer emerged from the shadows, her movements fluid and hypnotic. As she grabbed the pole, her body moved like liquid poetry, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Johnny's eyes were fixed on her, unable to look away as she spun effortlessly, her long, flowing hair cascading down her back and catching the light.

The other members of NCT 127 leaned forward, their interest piqued. Jaehyun and Yuta exchanged glances, a mischievous smile playing on their lips as they tossed a few notes to the dancer, appreciating her artistry and allure. The dancer's eyes went to each of them, but always returned to Johnny, her real target.

'Girl, you made me daydream…'

The dancer's hips swayed seductively to the beat of the music. She arched her back, extending one leg into the air, and spun around the pole with a mix of strength and elegance. Her eyes locked with Johnny's, a sensual smile playing on her lips. Johnny felt a magnetic pull toward her, his breath catching in his throat.

'Tell me why you let go, let go…'

Doing a split, she slowly lowered her body to the ground before sliding back up the pole with a smooth, controlled movement. Johnny's eyes never left her, completely entranced. Taeyong sat back, sipping his drink, a satisfied smile on his face. The dancer's gaze would occasionally turn to the other members, teasing them, but it would always return to Johnny.

'We don't need to be in love, no, I don't want to be the only one…'

Walking toward the edge of the stage with a tantalizing sway of her hips, the dancer's eyes remained fixed on Johnny. She reached out and ran a finger along his jaw, sending a shiver down his spine. Doyoung and Mark threw more notes at her, the crisp notes floating to the floor. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with desire.

'I just want to be one of your girls tonight…'

The dancer returned to the pole for a breathtaking final routine, twisting and turning with hypnotic fluidity. As the song reached its climax, she ended with a dramatic pose, her body glowing under the stage lights. Johnny's eyes followed every movement, his pulse quickening by the second.

'We don't need to be in love, no, I don't want to be the only one…'

As the music faded, she stood up and gave Johnny one last look.

The private room was buzzing with energy as the dancer, Lily, finished picking up the scattered bills. She moved gracefully, collecting the money with practiced ease. The members and Johnny watched her with desire.

As she headed backstage to the makeshift dressing room where the dancers were getting ready, the manager approached her, with urgency in his eyes.

"Selina, wait a moment," he said, stopping her gently. "We have a special request for a private performance."

Selina paused, her curiosity piqued. "I'm booked for another set," she replied, looking at the other dancers.

“It has to be you,” insisted the manager. "They're paying very well. The car is waiting behind the club."

Selina sighed, shaking her head reluctantly. "Okay, but I need a few minutes."

The manager agreed, leaving Selina to freshen up and change. She took her time, touching up her makeup and adjusting her outfit. Once ready, she went to the car, which started smoothly as she entered.

When they arrived at the hotel, a well-dressed man was waiting for her in the lobby. He bowed politely before introducing himself.

“My name is Dong-Hyun,” he said, his voice calm and professional. "I will walk you to your room."

Selina followed Hyun to the designated room. He opened the door for her and stepped aside, allowing her to enter alone. Upon entering, she was greeted by the sight of Johnny standing near the bar, drink in hand. He looked as handsome as she remembered from the club, although she didn't know his name.

"Hello," Johnny said, his voice soft and confident. "I'm glad you made it."

Selina was surprised when she didn't recognize the man in front of her. "I didn't expect that," she admitted, with a hint of surprise in her voice.

Johnny handed her a glass of drink, without taking his eyes off hers. "I was captivated by your performance earlier. I wanted a more private encore."

Selina took a sip of her drink, the warmth spreading through her. "So, you brought me here for a private show?"

Johnny's lips curved into a seductive smile. "Exactly. Dance for me, Selina."

They went to the bedroom, where Johnny sat on the edge of the bed and put on the remix of Beyoncé's "CUFF IT." The music filled the room, setting a sensual tone. Selina began to dance, moving with slow, deliberate steps.

'We're going to ruin the night…' Selina's hips swayed in time to the beat, her hands sliding over her body as she danced. She turned around, pressing her back against Johnny's chest, moving slowly. Johnny's breath hitched as he watched her, mesmerized by her every movement.

'I bet you'll see far away…'

Selina fell to her knees, her hands running up Johnny's thighs as she arched her back. She rose gracefully, her body undulating with the rhythm. She turned to face him, her eyes locked on his as she straddled his lap, her movements slow and teasing.

'Hypnotic…'

Johnny's hands rested on her hips, his fingers digging in lightly as she moved. The heat between them was palpable, the air thick with tension. Selina leaned in, her lips hovering just above his, their breaths mingling.

"You're amazing," Johnny whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"And you're irresistible," Selina replied, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

Her eyes met, the electrical connection. Without another word, Johnny closed the distance, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

"Are you sure you want to continue?" Selina asked, her voice soft and breathless.

Johnny's eyes were filled with a mixture of desire and curiosity. "I've never been so sure of anything," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again, sealing the moment of connection and passion.

your breath catching in your throat as Johnny's eyes roamed your body. He approached, his presence overwhelming. She couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation.

"Do you always make your requests so extravagant?" Selina teased, her lips curling into a playful smile.

Johnny chuckled softly, his eyes darkening with desire. "Only when someone leaves me speechless, like you did tonight."

Selina's heart skipped a beat at her words. She reached out, tracing a finger along his jaw line. "You don't seem like the type to be easily impressed."

"There's a first time for everything," Johnny replied, his voice low and velvety. He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. "I wanted to see more of you, in an environment where it was just the two of us."

Selina's pulse quickened when she felt the warmth of his breath on her lips. "And now that you have me here, what do you want?"

Johnny's hands slid to her hips, pulling her closer. "I want to know everything about you," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear. "What motivates you, what you want… and how can I make this night unforgettable."

Selina's eyes closed at the feeling of her touch. She opened them slowly, meeting his intense gaze. "You're already making this unforgettable," she whispered.

Johnny's smile was slow and seductive. "Good. Because I plan to spend time with you." He pulled away slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "But first, tell me something. Why did you start dancing?"

Selina was momentarily surprised by the question. She hesitated, then spoke softly, "It's a form of expression for me. A way of feeling free and alive."

Johnny nodded, looking thoughtful. "I can see that. It's captivating."

Selina's fingers traced the collar of his shirt, with a light, teasing touch. "And you? Why did you come to see me tonight?"

Johnny's hands moved to her waist, a firm touch. "I needed a distraction. Something to take my mind off everything else. And when I saw you… you were the perfect escape."

Selina felt a flutter in her chest at his words. She leaned closer, her lips brushing his as she spoke. "Then let's make this night unforgettable."

Johnny's lips curved into a smile before capturing your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. When they finally separated, they were both out of breath.

She got off his lap and knelt on the bedroom floor, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, leaving his dick pointing at her face. Her lips enveloped him and Johnny ran his hand through her hair, holding it tightly.

Selina held him with both hands and grabbed the head of his cock, sucking lightly as she used her tongue. The softness of her skin along with her smell made her press her lips harder against his dick. She could feel her panties getting wet just hearing a small sigh escape Johnny's lips.

“Lick,” he ordered, his voice a mix of nervousness and desire. Selina ran her tongue over the entire length, licking it slowly and feeling the veins pulsing on her tongue. She moved back to the head and put it in her mouth, sucking slowly. A hot gush flowed between her lips as he had his pre-ejaculate before she even sucked him properly.

She grabbed the base of his dick with one hand and opened her mouth, starting with rhythmic movements. Her hands grabbed her hair and he pushed some more into her mouth. She brought her other hand to his balls, squeezing them gently before returning to the head, running her tongue over them and trying to catch her breath.

A sweet, agonizing moan left her lips. “Oh! Selina,” he murmured as she sucked him. She was stronger, taking him deeper.

She was so horny that she couldn't wait for him to cum right on her face so she could lick up every drop of his cum. His hands were buried in her loose hair, pulling it by the roots tightly, and it felt good to feel like she was being tamed by him in a certain way. She moved her head up and down, looking at him with a teasing look, while she jerked him off with one hand and licked his balls.

She ran her tongue along the thick veins of his cock, turning her head to make sure none of them were left without her saliva. It was getting harder and thicker, and Johnny was no longer pulling her hair any less tightly; he was starting to hurt, as were her knees. But that was the least of it. She kept her eyes glued to Johnny's as she watched him bite his lip.

"Cum," he grunted, holding her head and taking control of the situation, moving his hips uncontrollably and fucking her mouth. She was so excited that she could barely control it all. He dug hard and it was deep, to the point where she had to let go of his hands from his head to breathe for a few seconds, but he didn't care. He pulled her hair and went deep once again. His moans were getting louder and he was howling at it. The only thing that mattered to him was reaching orgasm, just like her. She didn't let go of him and held his balls tightly, caressing the area. She brought her hands to his bare hips and squeezed tightly, moving her lips and tongue frantically with such desperation. She wanted to make him cum; he needed this.

“Oh, Selina!” he said in a desperate tone, his hoarse voice cracking. He pulled her hair harder and squeezed her head harder, going deeper.

The first jet of his cum was so thick that she had to force herself to swallow it. She was as ecstatic as he was. And yet, he didn't stop. He was practically fucking her mouth like nobody's business, his huge cock filling every area of her mouth, digging into her throat. She felt her lungs ask for help, but she still pressed her hips even tighter, scratching that part, extracting what she could and what was left of air.

She felt all his sperm inside her mouth and sucked it, extracting every last drop. His moans were more gratifying than oral sex itself.

Johnny gave her room to take it out of her mouth and take a deep breath as she licked his entire cock until it was clean.

Johnny still hadn't softened after such a turbulent cumshot. He remained standing, starved for sex, and she knew he wanted to feel himself inside her. He was still willing to fuck her like a dog in every way possible; she was sure of it.

His breathing was uneven and that was what she really wanted to see. Damn, she had the taste in her mouth that was missing. She was satisfied even without being touched by him; she sucked him like she was his little slut and was as satisfied as he was.

"I want you, bitch. I want to eat you," he said with some brutality. Reading her, he helped her up from the floor.

Selina stood, her breathing quickening as Johnny's intense gaze met hers. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. She could feel her desire radiating from him in waves.

"And now?" she asked, her voice a low, sensual whisper.

Johnny's lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. "Now, let's take this to bed."

He carried her to the bed, his hands never leaving her body. When they got there, he gently pushed her down, his eyes dark with lust.

Our lips touch tightly, her tongue enters my mouth starting a strong kiss, I leave her hands on top of her head, keeping them steady while Selina kisses me voraciously.

I slide my left hand up her arm until I reach her breast, a firm grip causing her to bite my bottom lip.

I was hungry!

Breaking the kiss, I see Selina panting, with her mouth open and a smile on her face. I pull her bra down, exposing her breasts. It tortures me, it hallucinates me! Those breasts were asking for me. I hold the left one in her hand, squeezing it tightly, feeling its softness in my fingers. I grab it first, running my tongue over her nipple until I put it in my mouth, sucking slowly. I hear her panting, trying to hold on to the wall.

I move to the other breast, my hand moving down to her panties. I place my hand with difficulty in her panties, and she lifts her hips, helping me lower them with her hands until they are on her knees.

I go back to sucking her breasts, with my hand inside her pussy. That delicious pussy was soaking wet, making my fingers wet as they moved up and down from her lips to her clit. I leave my fingers on her clit, making small movements while she grabs my hair.

I look up and see Selina with her head against the wall, unable to breathe and moan at the same time. I slide to her entrance, putting a finger inside her, I go up and start kissing her neck while I slowly masturbate her.

She holds my shoulders, squeezing tightly, moaning softly for my name.

I kissed her lips again, I missed them so much that I couldn't wait for more. They are addictive!

"I want you," she says between a moan stuck in her throat. I couldn't contain myself any longer. I had been without sex for so long that I was about to cum just from masturbating with Selina.

I take my hand away from her and kneel at her feet, taking off her heels. I take off her panties, throwing them somewhere in that room.

I take off the rest of my pants. Selina was crazy, she wanted it so much that she rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs.

I hold my cock, fitting in from behind. Feeling her vagina swallow him slowly, wet, warm and soft. This makes me roll my eyes. I placed my hands on her breasts, squeezing them as I fucked her slowly, with every torturous second moving in and out.

I couldn't cum now; I wanted to provide her with something that would forever remind her that I am her only man.

I take my dick out of her, turning her body forward. I hold Selina on my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist until she fits back onto my penis. With her back pressed against the wall, she was now moving up and down quickly, being fucked hard, just the way she liked it.

Her breasts in my face, her strong moans, make me slow down before she ends up cumming.

I hold her tightly, carrying her to the bed. I laid Selina down facing me, with her legs around my waist. I stay on top of her body.

It was a masterpiece! The most beautiful art I have ever seen in my entire life. The smudged lipstick, the completely sweaty body and that thirsty look. I was crazy about her.

Selina gives me a smile, kisses me a few times before we fuck again. She whispers

Her breasts in my face, her strong moans, it makes me slow down before she ends up cumming.

I hold her tightly, taking her to the bed, I lay Selina facing me, with her legs around my waist. I stay on top of her body.

It was a masterpiece! The most beautiful art I had seen in my entire life. The smudged lipstick, the completely sweaty body and that thirsty look. I was crazy about her.

Selina gives me a smile, kisses me a few times before we fuck again. She whispers to me "harder" equivalent to 9 times, she cums on my dick in the meantime.

While I fuck her, looking into her eyes, keeping those images That's how I would remember Selina, rocking a bed, moaning my name and cumming on my dick.

It doesn't take long until I cum inside her and fall over her body, I look for her lips once again as a point of support. I don't take my dick out of her until it softens.

I rest my head on her shoulder, close my eyes until I fall asleep

#black reader #ambw fic #ambw nct #nct ambw #nct hard hours #nct x black!reader #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh x reader

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