#he’s never gonna air out details for the obvious | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milfgyuu · 1 month

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Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.

Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.

That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.

He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation.

When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew.

Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.

The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count.

You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were.

Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault.

He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything.

So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.

You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”

He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.

“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”

Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”

You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.

“You want me to answer it?”

Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”

That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.

Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.

Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.

It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”

Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”

There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter.

“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”

“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.

You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..

As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place.

Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later.

It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial, but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.

Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own..

He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.

There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket.

You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you.

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”

His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”

You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.

Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.

When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin.

It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast.

And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”

Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”

Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.

“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”

Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly.

“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”

Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.

Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”

He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad.

Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.

Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew.

When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly.

You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears.

Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”

Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it.

He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable.

He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”

Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”

When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.

Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.

The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.

So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.

“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”

Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing.

Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.

“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”

He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”

Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”

“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”

He smirks. “Spoiled.”

“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”

“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”

“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”

He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual.

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”

Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”

You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”

“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”

He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”

You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”

You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”

He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”

You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”

At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”

You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”

“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”

Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed.

“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”

You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”

“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”

You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater.

He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”

He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”

Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.

You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.

“What if I asked you to take me home?”

Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”

His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”

“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”

His smile is so beautiful - it always has been.

“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”

“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.

He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”

“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.”

The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point.

“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”

You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”

When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”

His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.

“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.

“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”

To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time.

The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving.

Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”

You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”

Easy. “They’re my brothers.”

“And who am I?”

Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”

“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always.

“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”

He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?

“Unfortunately not.”

“Good.”

Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question.

And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking.

You’re no better.

The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more.

More, more, more.

Seungcheol does too.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away.

It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”

He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”

You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”

He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”

Appalling. “Seungcheol!”

Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”

“SEUNGCHEOL!”

“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”

Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases.

“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car.

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives.

“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life.

“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”

Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”

His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively.

Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”

You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”

He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”

You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”

“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”

“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”

He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”

“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”

He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”

He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”

The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine.

Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you.

The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”

He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you.

“I can carry you, it’s fine.”

But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors.

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”

His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.

“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”

“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”

He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”

“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.

When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter.

“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”

He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.

You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him.

Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most.

Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin.

When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.

Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”

“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”

Of course not. Big manly man.

“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”

Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way.

The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.

Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away.

Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”

There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target.

You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.

Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”

“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”

He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.

“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”

“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.

“Guilty subconscious?”

Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”

He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled.

You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.

He takes a slow step forward and then another.

“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”

“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”

You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m still cold.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs.

Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake.

He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.

When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh.

He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone.

He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes.

Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.

It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in.

His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more.

When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do.

You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing.

When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created.

It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room.

It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”

And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted.

It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging.

Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”

Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”

Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips.

HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more.

Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord.

“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”

The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking.

He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you.

Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it.

Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.

And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.

The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.

Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door.

Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage.

Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.

It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise.

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”

You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him.

“Where’s Cheol?”

“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”

Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”

You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.

“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.

“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”

Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”

He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.

Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out.

“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.

Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down.

“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.

Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”

Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”

Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”

“Notice anyone else missing last night?”

“Jeonghan-”

Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”

Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”

You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”

“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua.

“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”

Thwap.

Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”

“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”

“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind.

“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”

Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business.

“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”

He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”

“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.

Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”

“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”

“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use.

Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.

“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”

“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”

“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”

His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.

“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”

“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”

“You should see my oral presentation skills.”

With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”

“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”

Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”

Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”

Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”

Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside.

You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol.

Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.

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doll3tt33 · 6 months

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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ♡

(colin zabel x under arrest!reader)

Summary: once again, you find yourself being arrested by Colin, adding to his piling stress from an unsolved case. However, you discover that a tiny favor for the detective might bring him some much needed cheer…

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), car sex, coaxing, reader is under the influence of alcohol, brief mention of a bar fight, aggressive and rude reader, rly vague implied age gap, technically abuse of authority (it’s obvious, but I’m still putting it out there. I advise not to read if any of this makes you uncomfortable)

A/N: sorry for the major inactivity guys, I’ve been busy! And this fic ended up being longer than I expected, but I hope it’s good enough quality. My first ever smut, so hope u guys enjoy <3 (also sorry if any typos btw T^T)

You stood motionless, reeling from the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the alcohol's effects faded. The rush of emotion receded to an eerie calm. As your vision adjusted in the dim light, the scene came into focus - onlookers surrounded you and a woman now being helped from the floor. Through the buzz still clouding your mind, one detail emerged with painful clarity: her bruised and bloodied face, a stark reminder of the harm just caused in a moment of impaired impulse and from your god awful temper.

Now the woman who you beaten black and blue, almost to the point of passing out, wasn't the focal point for dispelling the haze of your impulsive rage. Nah, this lady had it coming when she slut shamed you for being oh-so-bold enough to wear a tank top tonight. No, it was the bright flashing hues of blue and red seeping through the windows that acted as your wakeup call.

Just like that, a realization hit with sobering clarity - “Shit. Cops.” Without pause, you shoved through the crowd, desperation driving every move. Bursting through the door, the frigid night air raised goosebumps across your skin. Damnit, maybe the tank top wasn’t the best choice after all. Intoxicated or not, you were in no shape for an arrest. Stumbling at first, you found your footing and picked up speed, putting distance between yourself and the scene of the incident you started. You were gonna make it through! You were gonna outrun those pigs and they would never get their grubby hands onto you!

…That was until, a loathsome voice sounded from behind.

“Hey- hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Before you knew it, you felt hands locked around your arms, yanking you to a halt. The telltale jingle of metal broke through your panic and with a sharp click, cold steel encircled your wrists. A glance back confirmed your dread. You weren’t being handcuffed by just any stinking cop - it was that good for nothing detective Colin Zabel arresting you once more, and for what, the third time this week? That’s one hell of a streak.

You sighed inwardly, the fight draining from your limbs, knowing any attempt in resisting would be in vain. “Goddammit Zabel, can’t you give it a rest?…” you muttered under your breath, as he hauled you back to the police car.

"I know, I know - save your excuses," Colin cut you off wearily, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Jus’… don’t start, ‘Kay? Do me a solid and quietly get in the car.” He opened the car door to the backseat, gesturing for you to step inside. Despite his perpetual mask of affability, you detected an edge of irritation - his good humor and patience clearly worn down by your repeated encounters.

“Whatever man…” you sighed as the door clamped shut with finality. Through the window you watched Colin slip into the driver's seat, releasing a long exhale as if to shed the stress of your latest encounter. At least you provided some diversion from his endless paperwork, though you doubted he'd admit as much.

True to his by-the-book nature, he slinked the seatbelt over himself, securing it with an assured click. Out of habit, he craned his neck over his shoulder, asking out of the goodwill of his heart. “Oh! Almost forgot. Do ya need a lil’ hand with fastening your seatbelt too?“ he offered warmly, “Don’t want any extra accidents happening tonight, am I right or am I right?” A hearty chuckle followed, dying abruptly once he took in your expression - eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.

“Fuck off Zabel.” you growled in response, fixing your stare out the window. He felt tension coil in his gut but forced it down with a hard gulp. As a veteran officer, he had faced far worse than you, yet something about your unpredictable defiance unsettled him. For a moment, under your glare, an angry retort rose to his lips but he bit it back, sensing it would only stoke the flames. Best to let the dust settle, he decided. Starting the car, he pointedly kept his eyes forward and drove in loaded silence.

“Alriiiighty then, no seatbelt it is. I’m just gonna… ah- y’know….” He cleared his throat, voice petering off into a nonsensical mumble as he shifted gears.

An uncomfortable hush fell over the car, only the revving of the engine permeating the stillness. Colin tapped the wheel, wishing for a distraction from the tension. His mind raced through possible conversation starters but came up blank. A stolen glance in the mirror found your stony profile unchanged. With a sigh, he focused back to the road, flicking on the radio more for the static noise than any musical preference.

Colin hummed softly to fill the silence, earning another kick from the backseat - your fourth such outburst. He was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a pushover, but he still stood his ground when needed to… in his own unique way. “H-Hey, Cut it out kid! And be nice,” he let out a weary sigh, peeking up at your vexed form through the rearview mirror “You know, I’m not a fan of this attitude you’ve got going on. Haven’t been for the past week.”

You sank lower into the seat, glowering. “First of all, old man, lay off the ‘kid’ crap. I’m not a child.” You rolled your eyes at his feeble attempt at reprimand.

Colin bit back another retort, clenching his jaw. Pride demanded he have the last word, if only to reclaim a shred of dignity in his own vehicle. “Hm no, I think I’ll call you a kid. ‘Cause you know why? You’re acting like one, like right now.” he replied evenly, bubbling frustration leaking through his amicable veneer, yet he still maintained some semblance of civility between him and your not-so-good of a temper.

As you drew your breath to speak, Colin beat you to it. “Look- all I’m sayin’ is, this isn’t good for you. This is the third time this week I’m haulin’ you in here. The third time!” Weariness tinged his laughter as he splayed his fingers out in front of him, only to reclaim the steering wheel in a swift motion. “Not only is this not doing you any favors kid—-“

“I said don’t call me kid.” You interjected sharply, cutting him off this time.

Colin continued on autopilot, fatigue chipping away at his usual cheer. “It's also not doing me any favors either. I've got a case to crack, but Mare - my partner - thought it’d be best if I dealt with you while she took charge of the investigation for the night…”

His shoulders slumped, eyes downcast as a cloud of disappointment settled in. As a county detective, he longed to prove himself with this investigation, not play referee to petty disputes. But saying no had never come easy, especially when others mistook his calm demeanor as weakness.

Silently, your eyes veered away from the passing scenery outside the car window, finally taking notice of his careworn features in the mirror. Attuned to the new lines of fatigue etched upon his face, you perhaps began to understand that this was wearing him too.

“Must suck being everyone’s errand boy.” You observed, tone lacking its usual bite.

Colin offered a tired nod. “Comes with the job, I guess…” his words trailed off, accompanied by a somber tone as his gaze returned to the road. “But y’know what they say- it is what it is.” he added softly, punctuating the statement with a self deprecating laugh.

Surprisingly, a twinge of sympathy tugged at your heart - a rare reaction to the shithead county detective. For all his attempts at camaraderie, which admittedly grated, you had to respect his resilience in the face of your unrelenting hostility. Hell, that time you clocked him during arrest, most would've thrown the book - but not Colin. His patience and optimism seemed a superpower, weathering your worst without breaking stride.

A strange blend of sympathy and guilt surged through you, as the realization struck you hard like a freight train - you had subjected the poor detective to a relentless barrage of undeserved hardship, oblivious to the weight of his personal burdens. Your chest tightened, and a foreign sensation stirred deep within as the reflection in the rearview mirror held your gaze captive.

The need for redemption gnawed at your conscience, but how could you possibly make things right? You've been a real pain in the ass to him for a good while now. Within the depths of your alcohol-induced haze, a daring idea began to take shape - could you perhaps make amends through a little bit of... shared pleasure?

It was pure insanity. Drunken impulses (and drunken you) are the epitome of idiocy. Vivid images flooded your thoughts, projecting the sheer horror that would contort his face if you dared to make a move now. It was likely that he hadn't experienced the touch of a woman in quite some time. And yet, that was precisely the point. The poor guy may have been deprived of any intimate encounters since his fiancée abruptly left him, and the growing urge within compelled you to do something about it.

Undeterred, an unwavering determination fueled your decision to make a bold move and test the waters. Shattering the silence, you adopted an uncharacteristically sweet tone to conceal your true intentions. "Hey Colin, think I could sit up front? It's kinda cramped back here."

Colin glanced over, clearly skeptical of your politeness given past rides. "Not sure that's protocol..." he began, ever the rule-follower.

Your lips formed a slight pout, an innocent plea. "Aw c’mon, I'm starting to feel queasy. Just to the station, what's the harm?"

“Uhh….”

Colin's head snapped in your direction, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your expression. Despite his suspicion, a flicker of genuine concern crossed his face. The thought of you unleashing your 'gastric distress' all over his car seemed to be a genuine fear he really wanted to avoid. He did not need an extra pukefest tonight.

Reluctantly, he caved in to your request, his voice colored with a mix of resignation and caution. "Ah, jeez... Look, you're not supposed to sit in the front, but fine, I'll make an exception this time." He maneuvered the car to the side of the road, stepping out to open the door for you. As you settled into the passenger seat, he retook his place beside you.

"Jus' promise me you won't end up throwing up in the car, 'cause I'm not looking forward to cleaning up that mess." With a playful smirk, he wagged his finger at you, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words.

"Chillaaaax, Colin. Don’t even worry, you won't see me hurling tonight. I've got it all under control," you declared, gracing him with a reassuring smile. The unexpected warmth of your expression caught him off guard, contrasting sharply with your usual snarky demeanor and the piercing death stares he had grown accustomed to.

However, Colin’s initial reservations melted away, reciprocating the gesture as a warm smile played across his face. He resumed his position behind the wheel, ready to continue the drive. But just as he was about to press the gas pedal, you captured the moment and took action. It was officially reckless business o’ clock. You sank down from the car seat, your knees grazing along the surface as you shifted toward the detective.

Colin's eyes widened comically, his mouth agape, utterly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. "K-Kid, what on earth are you—"

Cutting him off, your slurred words emerged with a hushed urgency. "Shush. And I told you not to call me kid. Just wait, let me..."

Your words trailed off as you grappled with the cramped space of the car. Hindered by the handcuffs that still restricted your movement, you struggled to find a way to support yourself without the use of your arms. Nonetheless, you persevered, inching your way beneath the steering wheel and between Colin's legs.

You released a sigh of relief as you settled comfortably onto your knees. “Phew! Crawling around is no walk in the park without some arms. Anyways...”

“Hi.” An impish grin spread across your face, your eyes flickering upwards, locking with his apprehensive gaze.

“Wow hi, haha!“ his smile, already awkward, stiffened further as he involuntarily sunk deeper into the car seat, attempting to create as much distance as possible between the two of you. “So um… is everything okay? I mean, what’s happening right now? What are you… doin’ down there, specifically?” His words tumbled out, laden with confusion and a touch of concern.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you giggled, thoroughly amused by the sight of the detective squirming uneasily in his seat. A delicate flush of pink tinted his cheeks, a detail that didn't escape your notice. Your voice dropped into a low purr as you continued, relishing in the tension that swirled between you. “Weeeell... I had this little thought, you see. I wanted to make amends. You know, for being such a pain to you over the past few weeks."

A coy little shrug followed your words, as if you were merely toying with the idea. “And I figured, what better way than to help my favorite detective relieve summa his stress off his shoulders.”

You awaited his response with a wide grin, but all that greeted you was a dumbfounded Colin, his face now aflame with a deep shade of crimson blush, eyes wide and unblinking. The sound of his breathing, short and heavy, filled the tense silence, leaving you to wonder if perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. Although a certain part of his body seemed to betray a different sentiment, stiffened and undeniable.

As both of your gazes inadvertently dropped, your eyes locked onto a conspicuous tent forming beneath Colin's slacks. A mix of surprise and amusement flickered across your face, mirrored by the silent murmuring of the word 'crap' that escaped his lips. “Hah… that’s uh- real strange. Don’t know why that’s happening,” He gulped. “Good ol’ keys in the pocket, huh? They’re a pain, especially when they decide to stick out in weird angles. It's like, whoa, things can get a little… funny, you know? Awkward, even.” He added, his voice revealing a hint of panic as he desperately attempted to maintain his composure, all while his raging boner was in plain sight.

“Oh for god’s sake,” you groaned, impatience tracing a light furrow on your brow as the restraint of the handcuffs exacerbated your frustration. "You're not seriously trying to play dumb with me, are you?" You said, annoyance and amusement bleeding through your words. The power dynamics had shifted, leaving you unable to take the lead, and instead relying on the nervous wreck of a detective before you.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath to steady fraying nerves. Determined to take a gentler approach, you decided to navigate this delicate situation with care.

"Come on, Col..." you cooed, leaning forward as far as you could, resting your head gently on his thigh. Your voice took on a soft, persuasive tone. "Let me do this for you." With a subtle flutter of your lashes, you batted your eyes, mimicking the innocent charm of a puppy seeking its owner's attention. Colin flinched, his knees threatening to buckle under the weight of your sudden touch. Yet, he remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon you in mounting suspense.

A smile curled upon your lips as you sensed his lack of immediate resistance, emboldening you to press forward with your gentle coercion. "Just once," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Let me do this once, and I promise you'll feel so much better afterward."

“..Jesus, I don’t know ‘bout this… I….” Colin mumbled, trailing off with a heavy uncertainty.

He sat frozen in place, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His bottom lip bore the marks of his nervous chewing, while his brows knitted together in a hesitant frown as he weighed his options.

He knew he shouldn't, he reaaaally should not. It was morally wrong, a breach of professionalism, and could jeopardize his career if discovered. His eyes darted frantically outside the car's windows, scanning the desolate darkness that enveloped the streets in secrecy. But technically, no one would find out, would they?

And god, it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, especially since the bitter end of his engagement. And there you were right now, on your knees, your eagerness to please him palpable. Just the sight of you pouting sent his stomach into a frenzy of uncontrollable flutters, a reaction unexpected even from someone with a volatile temper like yours.

Bewitched by your feminine wiles, he barely registered how his hand had crept onto the top of your head, his thumb caressing your scalp with a tender touch. The throbbing heat in his pants intensified, overpowering any remaining restraint. With cautious swiftness, he glanced around, scanning the surroundings for any prying eyes, before his gaze settled back on your face - your smile, a comforting anchor in the sea of his conflicting emotions.

He sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "F-Fine... Jus’ promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone, alright?" His hands returned to himself, fingers trembling as he loosened the clasp of his belt. The once ironclad resolve that had held him together began to crumble like fragile dust, succumbing to the pull of the moment.

“You have my word Col.” you reassured, your voice a soft murmur teeming with exhilaration.

Colin proceeded to undo his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the confined space. As he shoved them down, the dim glow of a distant streetlight seeped through the car window, casting a faint illumination on the scene. You couldn’t see all that clearly in the dark, but you did catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers, the fabric adorned with a telltale wet spot. Needless to say, he was far more excited than he was letting on.

Your mouth watered in anticipation, your core aching with need. Your senses heightened, thighs instinctively clenching as you awaited his next move. But just as Colin's thumb looped under his waistband, he hesitated, uncertainty settling over him like an icy veil. Restraints confined your hands, the itch of frustration crawling beneath your skin. In this moment, the immobility of your arms felt like a punishment far worse than being thrown into a holding cell later that night.

Unable to physically intervene, you relied on the power of your voice to guide the hesitant detective. "It's alright," you coaxed, tone laced with soothing encouragement. "Shake those nerves off, just this once. No one will ever find out..."

Colin's response came in the form of a hesitant nod - quick, uncertain, but nevertheless a nod. With painstaking slowness, he mustered the courage to give his boxers a small tug, gradually lowering them at an agonizingly slow pace. The measured movements seemed almost teasing, as if he were intentionally prolonging the moment. However, the truth was he basically personified a bundle of nerves, as though he was a schoolboy experiencing the thrill of his first make out session, unsure and skittish in his actions.

"How about we ditch these stupid handcuffs and let me take charge?" you suggested, your tone cutting through the air with an assertiveness that bordered on demand. Colin's head snapped up, surprise briefly shadowing his features as he registered the sudden shift in your demeanor and the scowl that tugged your lips. He couldn't entirely fault you for your impatience - he had been taking his sweet time with dropping his boxers. However, a part of him harbored a lack of trust, as dubious as it may sound. The restraints provided a sense of comfort and security, keeping you in check.

Colin's throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ehh... sorry, but that's a no-can-do," he deflected your proposal with his trademark easy smile. "You understand, right? It's nothing personal. Jus’ think it's... better this way."

“Ugh…” you grunted, eyes rolling in annoyance. You relinquished your desires, holding back any further comments or demands.

After what felt like an eternity, Colin steeled his nerves enough to continue, no longer willing to delay the inevitable. In a swift motion, he grasped the waistband, sliding it down until his cock sprang free, bobbing slightly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of brown pubic hair adorning the base, now traced the veiny pathways that ran along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking. For a seemingly meek police detective, he sure had a nice looking dick.

You smiled as you leaned in, tilting your head closer. Your eyes, brimming with excitement, darted back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you tested the boundaries. Despite his initial apprehension, there was a glimmer of delight in his gaze. Encouraged by his response, you inched closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to twitch in response.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the moment. “Crap, look- in case it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s been a while for me,” he blurted out shakily, already roused by the sight of your pretty lips caressing the heat emanating from his dick, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs parted further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer. “So sorry if I…. Y’know.. too early.” He stammered with urgency.

“I mean, you already look like you’re ready to burst before I even touched you,” you shrugged with a light chuckle. “But I kinda like that.” You flashed him a playful smirk.

He remained speechless, his face flustered and turned away, a deep red painting his features in the stillness of the moment.

Regardless, you took the plunge, gently pressing your lips against the sensitive underside of his cock. A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped his lips, a clear sign for you to continue. From top to bottom, you peppered his length with tender, soothing kisses. His hand immediately reached for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from cumming too fast, careful not to exert too much force and risk hurting you.

"And sorry about the whole hair-holding thing. I, uh... need something to hold onto when I'm really focused," he confessed, his bashful laughter intertwining with his words. His face still burning a deep scarlet hue, the admission both vulnerable and endearing. "Habit," he added, his lips twitching with shy sincerity.

“You can grip my hair as hard as you want. I don’t mind a little rough treatment.” you shot a wink, a giggle escaping your lips. Lowering your head, you tilted it to the side, your tongue tracing a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you pressed your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet insistent rhythm, each release elicited a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Colin‘s jaw went slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth made contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch. His dark brown eyes dilated, glazing over your form below him. “Yeah, jus’ like that… jus’ like that…” he managed to utter out, his heaving breaths punctuated by muttered words of approval. His fingers entwined with your hair, massaging the crown of your head in a visceral gesture of pleasure.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you?” you remarked, a playful lilt in your voice as you pulled back slightly, savoring the sight of the detective's face contorting with undeniable bliss. “I wanna hear it baby, tell me how much you needed this.” You crooned, face colored with a teasing grin.

“Okay-okay fine, I won’t lie…” Colin huffed, admittance causing eyes to flutter away. Amused, you chuckled, flattening your tongue against his length, gliding it along a long and deliberate path, coaxing the rest of his words to spill out. A delicious shiver of electricity ran down his spine, sending a cascade of goosebumps rippling down his skin from his erection being teased. “Agh!- y-yes I needed this, I really… really needed this.” he babbled out, his breath hitching with the weight of his confession.

Satisfied, you continued. Your kisses swept from the base and drifted all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it expertly caressed the ridges. Colin's body quivered, responding with an urgent jerk of his hips, a wordless plea for you to take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. You could feel the urgency in his veins buzz with an electric fervor, beckoning you to go further. For the sake of soothing him, you pressed your lips right onto the swollen head, treating him to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” Colin moaned, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips bucked forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. Each squirm of his body against the supple leather of the car seat produced a small squeak, almost serving as a subtle backdrop to the moment. “God, you scare the living crap outta me... but f-fuck, you’re sososo p-pretty!” He choked, another whimper caught in his throat.

“Mhm… that’s what I do best detective…” you mumbled with a full mouth, the warmth of his fluids clinging to your breath.

The evidence of your arousal was just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely soaked from the act of using your mouth on the detective alone, cunt weeping from the lewd noises leaving him with each stroke. Your lips glided further down along him, accommodating his warm slickness as you relaxed your jaw. “Ohmygod- holy shit you feel so good...” he groaned. He slumped back against the backrest, head lolling over his shoulder as he fought to stifle a moan. “Ngh- so good f-for me…”

Despite the discomfort that knotted your knees and the soreness that gnawed at your back from kneeling on the unforgiving car floor longer than you should’ve (all while handcuffed too!), that fiery bundle of elation simmering in your belly powered you through it. After all, Colin was all you could focus on, eclipsing everything else. His raw groans, the incoherent praises that spilled from his mouth, and the way your name danced off his tongue like silk - it was all you needed in the moment, utterly invading every fiber of your being.

However, it wasn't just you who was losing yourself in the moment. Colin's mind short-circuited completely, overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure that had him seeing dazzling stars. Your heavenly skills had transformed his body into a molten state of arousal, practically dissolving into a puddle of liquid. In this state, his thoughts scrambled like a glitching, outdated computer, and your lack-of-hands situation compelled him to take the reins in a mindless frenzy.

"Hope ya’ don't mind if I jus’..." he mumbled hoarsely, his words stumbling out spontaneously. His hands cradled the sides of your head, anchoring you in place, hovering inches above his seat to steady his rhythm. His cock delved deeper into the confines of your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. His heart galloped like a wild stallion, synchronizing with the rhythm you created, while he sunk himself further into the depths of your wet heat.

“Mmh!- ‘m almost there! Need a lil’ l-longer.” Colin sputtered out, throat straining to keep as quiet as possible. He could see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, whimpers muffled out around him. He truly never intended to subject your poor mouth to such rough treatment, his tip bullying the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it was sore, pushing so deep that your nose buried itself in the tufts of hair on his pelvis. Despite the guilt welling up in him, he couldn’t help himself at this point. His body was now like a machine, moving on its own accord to milk every ounce of pleasure he could get.

Even then, you didn’t even break eye contact, not even once. Not when this police detective who nursed a hidden disdain for your tempestuous presence behind faux smiles, was now coming undone right before you - His once neatly styled chestnut brown hair now clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, strands falling over his flushed, pale features. His lips, now parted and glistening, revealed a glimpse of vulnerability, while his doe eyes sparkled with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment was enthralling, leaving you no choice but to be mesmerized.

The rippling tremors jolting through Colin's frame reminded him that he was nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen ready to erupt. Between heavy panting, he plucked up the courage to voice his request, his fretful eyes scanning the confined space of the car. “Hey sooo uh- you um… y-you don’t mind if I don’t pull out… right?” he asked, vulnerability threaded through his tone. He definitely wasn’t eager to see his load spray onto anything inside his police car.

Your nose scrunched up in clear disapproval, a glare shooting daggers at him, clearly not a fan of swallowing. He clicked his tongue in disheartenment, head tilted to the side “C’mon, do me a favor will ya?… Not really lookin’ forward to making a mess in the car.” He pleaded breathlessly. To his relief, no signs of protest emerged, though a sullen mask adorned your face.

As he noticed your lack of resistance, he seized the opportunity to follow through with his words. “‘m sorry!- So sorry. I-I’ll make it up to you later. Really!” Colin bleated, tone brewing with guilt and that familiar undercurrent of pleasure.

Squeezing his eyes back shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his belly, yearning for release. His balls tightened, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turned sloppy. Consumed by a blinding, searing white that engulfed his senses, his mind completely blanked. With one final forceful pump, he held your head close, ropes of cum painting your mouth white. Trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, you gulped down the bitter torrent, suppressing the almighty urge to gag as your tongue battled with the assault.

Once you swallowed every last drop of his cum, Colin released his firm grip, withdrawing his now softened cock from your mouth. His hands fell limply to his sides, the air in the cramped car heavy with sweltering breaths, as though the two of you had just completed a grueling marathon on a hot summer’s day.

Gradually regaining his composure, Colin peeled his eyes open, his gaze fixed upon your chest rising and falling, your lips swollen and glistening with wetness. “Jeez uhh, are you okay?- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Post orgasm clarity rushed over him like a gust of fresh air, his lips downturned with genuine concern. He hastily reached into his coat pocket, digging out and opening a tissue packet, gingerly dabbing away the saliva and residue from your chin and mouth.

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the unexpected act of care from the detective. Well, that was a first - no one had ever wiped your mouth for you after a blowjob, but then again, your hands were bound, rendering you immobile. “Yeah I’m fine, you didn’t really have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture.” you replied in a hoarse voice, head shying away from him.

Colin's face brightened with a smile, a wave of relief washing over him. You were right - the weight of his once overwhelming stress seemed to dissipate. In fact, he felt like a brand new man! It had been a long time since he had been intimate with a woman, so this encounter meant more to him than you could ever know.

In an unexpected twist, he scooped you up from the car floor, strong arms cradling your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, cocooning you on his lap. In that moment, the softie within him had taken over, aching to shower you with affection and gratitude for the pleasure you had shared.

Your shoulders tensed in his firm grasp, your wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and alarm. You couldn't help but wonder if he always got this sentimental after engaging in intimacy, and you couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Woooow okay, so we're hugging now huh? Someone's feeling affectionate tonight," you noted with a touch of sarcasm. Yet, despite your initial resistance, you allowed him to hold you, gradually surrendering to the warmth of his arms. Deep down, buried beneath layers and layers of pride, a part of you secretly enjoyed this, even if you'd rather be drawn and quartered than admit it.

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind. It’s jus’ that… you did such a good job.” Colin chuckled, his hand gently caressing the small of your back. “And hey, would ya’ look at that! I really do feel so much better now. So, genuinely, thank you.” His words resonated softly against the crook of your neck as he rested his chin there, his arms remaining securely wrapped around you.

You allowed the weight of the moment to sink in, basking in the warmth and tenderness enfolding you. Then, an idea suddenly sprang to mind, and you couldn't resist voicing it. “Say… since I did one hell of a job, does that maybe mean I’m off the hook now?” You pulled back, a sly brow raised as you awaited his response.

Colin let out an exaggerated huff, his smile filled with amusement as he ruffled your hair into a delightful mess. “Nope,” he replied teasingly. “You’re still getting your butt thrown into the station for the night.“

Your expectant smile swiftly dropped into a deep frown, prompting a hearty pat on the back from the detective as he erupted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry kid,” He said between chuckles. “Now chop-chop, time for you to get in the back!”

-------☆-------

I’m aware I made Colin more pathetic than he actually is and I apologize- Idk I just could resist 😭😭 Hope the aftercare made up for it tho??

🤍 only tagging one person cuz idk who else wants to be tagged:

@lacucarachapisser

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daryl-fucking-dixon · 4 months

Text

Vamp!Daryl moodboard because oh my god I cannot get enough of him

I’m writing something for him on my main blog, but I also wanna write something else and I also don’t wanna delete what I’m already writing (because Im punishing myself)

I did in fact end up going into detail 🌞(ifykyk)

SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING SOMNOPHILA AND BLOODKINK WARING

There was no place comfier and warmer than cuddled up right in your arms, nuzzled safely against your chest where Daryl’s 30/20 hearing could peacefully listen to the clear beat of your heart. It lulled him into a deep sleep almost every night, belly full and his hunger satisfied.

But a vampire could never be too full, and Daryl Dixon never sleeps without his senses guarding at all times, so the way he jerked slightly at the first hints of blood flooding into his nostrils was inevitable.

You barely stirred, which made it easy for Daryl to slip out of the cage that was your limp arms and quietly inspect your body.

He softly and gently lifted your shirt, helping himself to an eyeful of pretty tits once he determined your torso was unscathed, placing the fabric back down over you. His eyes fluttered down to your panties, brain loading for a moment before he dipped his head down, not even having to inhale before he was hit in the face with the overwhelming smell of blood.

This absolutely horrified him. Why were you bleeding, and why were you bleeding from your cunt? His cold little heart throbbed painfully, and he wasted no time pulling off your undies, shivering at the ruined fabric. It was bad, so bad. You had somehow hurt yourself in a sensitive area and needed obvious help, but first Daryl just had to take a deep whiff of your bloody panties, biting back a guttural moan when the pure smell made him dizzy, eyes almost rolling to the back of his skull as it traveled through his veins and damn-near made him cum. Not even the most expensive cocaine could get him that high.

His mouth was watering from just that alone, trying not to wake you as he quietly gasped for air, having literally suffocated himself in your underwear. He redirected his gaze to you and felt disgusting when he could feel his cock twitch at the sight of your bloody pussy.

No. He needed to help you. You were hurt and he needed to fix it, furrowing his brows as he built up his saliva in his mouth, hoping that if he coated you in enough of it, it would heal you much quicker.

When it was pooled on his tongue, he dropped down to be face to face with your cunt and forcibly swallowed the groan that formed in his throat from the smell wafting into his nose. All five of his senses were sky-high, and your skin almost felt like butter on his fingertips as he spread your bloody lips apart, running his slick tongue from top to bottom.

Your body trembled at the cold sensation, and soft sounds spilling from your lips as you reacted to his touch in your sleep. It made Daryl feel a little guilty, but it would make him feel guiltier if he just left you like this.

There was just blood all over you, and Daryl worked his tongue fervently to clean it all up. He tried not to enjoy it too much, running the wet muscle up the crease where your thigh met your labia, stopping to suck on your clit a little, cleaning off any blood with the tip of his tongue.

He was purposely trying to produce more saliva with every lick, ensuring that wherever your wound is, it’ll be completely coated in his healing spit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull your lower half flush against his face, slipping his tongue into your hole and swirling it around when he could taste the blood pooling inside, this time not being able to fight back his grunt at the taste. Oddly enough, it tasted so much better coming from your pretty pussy.

“Gonna make sure ya feel better doll, gotta make sure m’gorgeous girl is alright” He mumbled out loud but more so to himself, practically nose-deep as he protectively squeezed you impossibly closely, starting to get a little tipsy from all the blood he had already consumed.

You stirred slightly, grunting and wiggling your legs a little as you could feel the sturdy muscle of Daryl’s arms around them, shortly followed by the warm sensation of his muttering and licking between your pussy lips “Mm… Dar?”

He didn’t respond, nor did he move from his position, too far gone and deep between your legs.

“Daryl.” You forced your tired voice to call a little louder, coming out as more of a moan than anything else.

This time the movements of his tongue halted as his ears and head perked up, a very unexpected sight greeting you.

His red eyes were wide as they stared at you, beard stained blood red from where it dribbled down from around his equally stained lips, smeared across the tip of his nose and most likely painting his pink tongue a matching color.

It made you throb slightly, clenching as you softly stared at him. “What’re you doing?”

“Ya started bleedin'– Still don’ know-how, but ya did, ‘nd ‘wanted ta make sure ya’ weren’t hurtin’” He shook his head as he rambled, and you raised a brow at him.

“Bleeding?” You glanced at his position between your legs, and then back to his face, easily connecting the dots with a small ‘oh’ sound. “Oh Daryl, I’m not injured, sweetheart”

He gawked, flickering from your face to your cunt. “Ye-Yer not?”

A giggle rumbled in your chest at his poor ignorance, “No silly! I’m just on my period. It’s just my body getting rid of old blood. I didn’t even know you could eat that” reaching a hand down to cup his sweet messy face, the confused look on his face adorably tugging your heartstrings. Or maybe that’s just your hormones.

“Tasted good ta’ me… old?” Daryl mumbled, brain lagging behind to catch up with the new information that he was receiving.

You nodded, blushing a little at his words. “Old blood, bacteria, all that… how long have you been eating?”

“Not long, think it jus’ started or somethin’” He eyed your pussy, licking his lips. “Can I– Can I keep goin’?”

“Kinda gross don’t you think?” You cringe slightly at the idea of eating period blood, goosebumps dotting your skin.

Daryl scoffed at you, arms pulling you close to his face again as he had full intentions of leaving his plate absolutely clean. “Gross ain’t even in ma’ damn vocabulary”

I need him SO FUCKING BADLYYYABUAINA literally all my problems in life would be completely solved if I had vamp!daryl waking me up with his tongue just because he thought me starting my period was me somehow getting an injury

VAMPIRE DARYL IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE AND I HAVE DECIDED I NOT ONLY WANNA DIE ON THIS HILL BUT I WANNA BE FUCKING BURIED IN IT. SEVEN GODDAMN FEET UNDER.

no I do not care if you dont like this or if it made you uncomfortable have you ever tried reading the warnings or do your eyes only work when you dont fucking want them too

#norman fucking reedus #vamp!daryl dixon #vamp!daryl #vampire!daryl dixon #vampire!daryl #the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl imagines #daryl twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction

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baby-tini · 2 months

Note

do you have a part 2 of where Mikey is cheating?

I do now ❤️

TW- Yandere-ish behaviour, a bit of victim blaming, implied murder, slightly detailed scene of murder, violent behaviour, implication of past cheating.

Mikey was a mess ever since you left, he knows he brought it on himself by cheating, but he was still angry. He missed you deeply, thought about you every night and everyday, you were his first thought when he woke up, and his first thought when he went to bed. You were- are his everything, in his head, you're still his, and nothing is ever gonna change that- nothing. You guys are just... on a little break, that's all. You didn't actually wanna leave, you didn't actually mean it when you said, you never wanted too see him again... right? You couldn't possibly mean that, after all you guys have been through together? You can't be serious, there's no way. So he let you have your little break, even if your absence clawed at him every minute of everyday, but when you didn't... it all kinda went down hill from there, even more so then normal.

It took awhile for him too track you down, longer then he was comfortable with or even, willing too admit. You're everything to him, the reason he even still gets up in the mornings, so, when you left his life,it affected him more then everything else ever has. He was so irritated, taking it out on traitors, torching them slowly as he deflected his emotional pain into physical on the people who have done him wrong. When he finally found you though, or, rather his men found you, his heart started too hurt. He's never been so happy in his life, having heard the news of your exact whereabouts, it pleased him greatly, his eyes even have a little bit of life back in them. He found you living in a tiny little apartment on the outskirts of Tokyo, it was quiet- peaceful even, something his lifestyle greatly lacked.

He contemplated whether or not too just knock on the door... or just break in. But, he ultimately decided too just knock for now and if that didn't work for him, he'd have no problem forcing his way in. You were glowing when you opened that door, looking content- happy even, but the way your smile dropped and the look of delight turned to dread, it hurt, it hurt him so fucking much to the point he almost toppled over. But he held it together, his eyes almost pleading as he whispered your name, it almost sounding foreign with how long it's lacked coming from his lips. But it felt re-freshing on his tongue, like a shred of hope as you stepped aside and let him in. Although hesitant, as your steps lacked genuine want, looking more forced, knowing who exactly this man was and what he was capable of.

It was quiet for a while, as you both sat on your couch, the silence feeling awkward and heavy as you tried your best too avoid eye contact with him. The action feeling too intimate knowing what he did and the way you left, it might've not been the best decision or the best way too leave, but you didn't really have any other option, knowing it would, most likely, start a big fight that you really didn't feel like dealing with at the time. Or the worse option, he didn't care at all and would just let you leave, that would've hurt a lot more then just leaving it up in the air, but with him being here, you were betting on the former being the more obvious situation if you were too have confront him and try too leave at the time, also taking into account that Mikey isn't the most stable, and that would've most likely pushed him off the deep end and would've led to worse consequences for you then just being homeless for a while before you were able too get a shitty job as a waitress and live in a tiny apartment.

"I'm... sorry for what I did.." were the first words he chose too spoke, the first words you've heard from him in months. You knew he was sorry, his presence at the apartment told you all you needed too know, but you also knew that you didn't have too forgive him for what he did to you, you put up with a lot of his bullshit, let him get in your face and call you ugly names or let him get violent with men when they, very stupidly, thought it would be okay too eye-fuck their bosses girl. Watched him beat a man within an inch of his life as soon as his disgusting hands layed a slap to your ass, with a nasty smirk, you've never seen Mikey move so fast in your life, a kick to the man stomach as he beat him bloody, black and blue. Having replayed the mans screams in your head as begged and pleaded with Mikey too not kill him, that he was sorry, you know the man wasn't sorry for what he had done, only sorry that the consequences were so dire for him. That was the first and only time you've watched Mikey kill a man, he kept you locked away for weeks- months after that... incident.

You decided too keep quiet, which was a big mistake on your part cause it only made Mikey inch closer to you on the already small couch. His hands grabbing at your shaky ones, pulling them up to his lips as he left the softest kisses on the backs of them with the whisper of, "let me make it up to you, please?" You wanted him too, you really did, you missed when he was soft with you, although very rarely, he still was willing too show vulnerability. Your head was already clouded not having fully processed the whole infidelity on his part, but you did miss him and with his appearance at your apartment causing a wave of emotion too bubble in your chest and tear ducts, you did, you let him take care of you again. Just hoping and praying that you wouldn't regret everything when your head was a little bit clearer and your arms weren't wanting too constantly reach out and hug him, when your heart wasn't constantly begging you too let him touch you again, too take you again and have you so vulnerable under him as he whispered, hopefully, long-lasting promises in your ear.

So you did, you let him lay your back on that rough, uncomfortable couch as he left kisses on your face, leading down your neck and turning into love marks. Leaving spit-covered kisses down your chest as he hiked your leg over his waist, kissing underneath your ear as he whispered just how sorry he was to you, promising he'd never he look at another woman again, that what he did was a one-time stupid mistake. Whispering about, how it took him losing you too realise just how perfect you were, how rare you were too continuously stay by his side, too pledge your loyalty to such a bad man, such as his self- a monster. To a man who has taken more then he has ever given in his entire life, he knows that you're special, special to him, but just special in general. Letting him have- letting him take you in a place you now called home, knowing what he's done, he was selfish, he knows that, but he's done with it, now that he has you back in his arms, he's never letting you go again. Over his dead body- or, more like the dead body of the woman he had sex with, that led you both to this moment, no more.

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sugugasm · 1 year

Text

#2 : SLUT CERTIFIED ! — eren yaeger

꒱ ➛ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS : the first taste of sluttry.

˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader

˚◞♡ word count : girl…don’t even ask i lost track </3

˚◞♡ chapter warnings : minors DO NOT interact, mentions of female anatomy, fem! reader using she/her pronouns, somewhat bimbo reader ??? mentions of major asshole connie, mentions of player! connie ꒱ i’m sorry ꒱ , use of profanity, oral penetration, body worship, loss of virginity, mentions of reader crying, pet names such as [ mama, baby, angel, love, pretty girl ] detailed, slow-paced smut, a little bit of a cliffhanger bc i LIVE for drama. ˚◞♡ author’s note : we back we back we backkkk !!! hello and welcome to the second chapter :) BUT FIRSTTT !!!! THANK YOU FOR THE POSITIVITY YOUVE GIVEN ME FOR THIS SERIES I LUV U ALL <33 i know i’ve been very absent and i know y’all have been WAITING. i am actually so sorry, but my mental health was calling my name :/ BUT WE ARE DOING BETTER !!! last but not least, excuse any errors, you guys r the best and i hope u enjoy 🤍 reblogs and interactions are always loved and earns u a smooch

eren stayed over that night. not out of fear of waking you, or to avoid alarming you with the sound of your door creaking open, but because he felt pitiful of himself. if he’d left, you’d know something was wrong. he’d rather be petty and silent than obvious and pissy. besides, if he would’ve left, he wouldn’t have been able to wake up to the smell of fresh eggs, grits, and french toast with a simple side of fruits to top it all off.

eren makes his way out of your guest bedroom, nose following the mouth watering scent of food that polluted the air in your home, “goodmorning, rennie,” he hears you announce, still stirring at a pot sitting on your kitchen stove. his eyes wander, looking at the two plates resting on the kitchen island, as well as the two seats that wait for you both to obtain them.

“morning.”

“someone’s grumpy,” you say, watching him untie the bun in his hair and shake it out as if he were a wet dog, “i made some breakfast…if you’re hungry. you don’t have to eat it..but, um..”

“do you have sugar?”

“what-“

“for the grits.”

you awkwardly laugh, a bit put off by his straightforward demeanor, but choosing not to look into it too much. after all, it was 6AM — a sunday too. you didn’t blame him for lacking a bit of a pep in his step.

“o-oh yeah. um, it’s in the pantry, at the top on the left.” eren’s mood was hard for you to abstruse. you couldn’t tell whether he was angry, sleepy, or just being plain old moody, but deep down you’d hoped it was anything other than the first.

“i thought you hated sugar on grits. last time i gave them to you, you said you would never eat my food again,” you jokingly refer, but he only shrugs like before.

“people change.”

you build the courage to start somewhat of a conversation. this was weird. it was like a stranger was just walking around your house. you could usually hear eren making noise before you in the mornings when he chose to stay the night ; showering early, blasting his playlist as loud as he can to wake you, having more of the zoomies than your hyper cat — but now, he just seemed so .. quiet. eerily quiet.

“so, what do you have planned for today?”

he shrugs, “don’t know.”

the answer was simple, but it seemed to have given you more of a worry than a relief, “well, it’s gonna’ be nice out today. i also saw a strawberry field i wanna’ see. ooh! okay so, we can get lunch, go pick the strawberries, and maybe get icecream afte –“

“i have some rules to add.”

rules? oh, rules. the rules you abruptly created out of fear after he’d made you cum with just the simple movement of his fingers, “okay, uh, great. what’d you wanna’ add?” you wait for him to answer, watching him practically inhale the food off of his plate that you’d just placed down only a few minutes ago.

“for starters, we aren’t a couple, so we aren’t doing couple shit,” he begins, and you immediately want him to retract that sentence. you didn’t know why hearing that gave you an intense pain in your heart, but you hated the feeling, “like holdin’ hands, goin’ on dates, etc.”

“but we – we always hold hands, ren.”

“yeah, but you’re with connie. i don’t think that’s appropriate now, do you?”

oh. using your own words against you. how mature of you, eren.

“no, no. you’re right. i um.. i guess i didn’t think about that one.” you couldn’t look at him. you were almost embarrassed to. not only had you been the reasoning for this tension, but you were the one who was behind the master plan. you were the one who asked him to do this. you were the one who blatantly said it was strictly educational.

you were the one who promised yourself you wouldn’t take it further than it needed to go.

eren was just playing the part.

“i’m gonna’ hold off on the nicknames outside of the bedroom too. don’t wanna’ make you uncomfortable so i should leave all that to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” your tongue runs across your lips, unsure exactly what to say. you had no reason to be upset, especially if you were trying to pursue a relationship with connie.

“heard me?” he asks, shoving the last bit of his food into his mouth.

“you’re being a dick.” his ears raise like a hound, a bit taken back by the authoritarian tone of your voice. eren sits and watches you begin to toss the used pots and pans in the sink, not bothering to wash them — which was nothing like you. you’re turned around, back facing him with your hands left to pick at your fingernails.

“how so?”

“you know, eren, i actually think you should get going. i have a lot of errands that i need to get done before our next session so..” eren clears his throat and doesn’t say much else. your words left a bad taste in your mouth and his — you feeling bad and him feeling worse. it wasn’t that you wanted him to leave. if anything, you wanted him to spend the whole day with you, but knowing that the simple physical tendencies were no longer present in your friendship would drive you crazy. you found comfort in one another — whether it was a touch of a hand or a pat on the back, there was nothing else in the world that could bring you the clarity your platonic love resinated.

but that was gone now.

“when you wanna’ start the next —“

“i’ll come over tonight after my last class. that way we can finish this and i’ll be out of your hair soon enough, like you want.” your demure smile said everything you needed to. eren could read you like a book. he’d obviously agitated you with his petty choice of words, but it didn’t make sense of why. you were the one who wanted rules to begin with, and as of right now, eren could already feel a lump beginning to swell in his throat, “alright then. just hit me when you need me,” he forces out, getting up to grab his things.

you don’t reply, you only watch him leave.

“love you.”

your silence was enough to make him head to the door quicker. he waits a moment by the exit, out of your sight, but sticking around to hear you say it back.

but you don’t.

in fact, you don’t say a single word, at least not until he leaves and is already inches away from your home, unable to hear the slight sorrow in your voice as you wipe away a small tear, “love you too, fuckin’ asshole ..”

after eren’s departure, the house was more silent than it was when he was here. yeah, you technically kicked him out, but if you knew the heartache you’d get from it, you easily would’ve chosen the silently petty route just like he did. you were left to contemplate bout what you could’ve said and done differently, what you could’ve accomplished if you’d just been more patient with him. but then again — eren was cold to you this morning. he seemed to have let his emotions get in the pathway, causing him too to make choices he wouldn’t usually make.

and that’s why you felt the need to see connie. the connie who was the root of of the argument that ruined your monring, the connie who you’d grown so fond of. he was also the same the connie who had showed up to your home rather later than expected though. when you texted him a few hours prior to your class ending, he’d said he could be at your doorstep in ten, but ten turned to twenty, and twenty turned into an hour.

and soon, that hour became three.

you assumed he’d probably gotten caught up at work again ; one of the main enemies in your relationship besides eren. his boss seemed to always be holding him back longer, regardless if his shift was scheduled to end hours prior. it made no sense, but like he always said, ‘more money i make, the more i get to treat you like the princess you are’ — but anyway, you couldn’t exactly hate him for it.

how else would he be able to buy you those cute little pandora charms and pretty mini skirts?

you’re drifted from your thoughts as a notification illuminates your screen and you happily skip toward the front entrance of your home without even having to check to see who it is. connie — standing tall at your doorstep with a pretty bouquet of roses resting in his arm. the diamonds in his studded earrings gleaming in your gaze. his hair was buzzed a bit lower than it was the last time you saw him — now dyed with hearted patterns all around.

he looked good, as always.

“hi, pretty girl,” he greets you cheerfully as if he hadn’t just showed up almost three and a half hours late. you sit there with your arms folded, giving him that same glare you always do when he did these things.

“i know i’m late, baby. i’m sorry! y’know how it is. i just got caught up —“

“at work.” he gives you a sad smile, pinching your cheek and puckering his lips for you to give him a kiss. of course you give in, allowing his lips to press against yours in a quick peck ; which eventually leads to him backing you into through your door and shutting it behind him. his lips felt different — swollen almost, like he’d been kissing someone prior.

“new lipgloss, huh? i like the taste.”

before it could get too heated, your manicured hands find their way to his chest, stopping him before he could move any further, “heyhey, not so fast mr. ‘m still kinda mad at you y’know,” you say, running a finger down his shirt all the way to the hem.

connie kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes a bit, “here the fuck we go again,” he walks away before you can even begin to voice the remainder of your frustration.

“don’t be like that. you’re the one who can’t seem to say no to your manager. you don’t have to work overtime every fucking time she asks, y’know.”

here we go again indeed. he’d only gotten here no less than ten minutes ago, and you both could already find yourselves wanting to be apart, “i have bills to pay. working overtime isn’t gonna’ kill anybody.”

“well it’s killing me! i barely see you anymore, con,” your lips form a frown, connie shaking his head in response.

“and what, that’s all my fault? you’re always at school, or studying, or playin’ footsies with eren every weekend. i should be the one doing all the scolding.”

your eyes widen, tears threatening to spill from them as you swallow deeply, “get out.”

damn, yn. second man you’ve kicked out today in a row. look at you doing god’s work.

“what?”

“i said get out. i don’t wanna’ see you.” you don’t even dare to look his way, too angered and confused to do so. connie doesn’t even try to put up a fight. he immediately starts to grab his keys, almost as if he were waiting for those words to leave your mouth.

“y’know what, cool. talk to me when you’re done with your little tantrum. i don’t have the patience for this shit today.” those last few words spit fire straight into your chest. his words hurt, but seeing him walk out of that door and slamming it behind him without a care in the world hurt worse. the only thing playing in your mind was the painful scene over and over again. the tears that you had managed to suppress earlier had begun to resurface, your vision becoming blurry and the lump in your throat swelling harder than it ever has.

connie had never spoken to you like that before — the lack of giving a fuck very present in his tone of voice. you felt horrible, and confused, and almost regretful about letting him into your home to begin with. this wasn’t the man who was treating to dinner on a rooftop after your hard day all those months ago, neither was this the man who gifted you not one, but two promise rings for your birthday, or the man who you couldn’t stop bragging to your mother about.

this was someone else.

there was a tear in your heart, and fighting this alone would only cut it further. it’s funny, it’s like even when you’re angry at eren you can’t help but to think of him. you can’t help but to vision how badly he would’ve beat connie’s tail if he heard the same words you did.

so, you decide to shamefully push your pride to the side, heading to eren’s earlier than expected — and of course, when you arrive at his doorstep with watery eyes and a puffy nose, his disgruntled expression softens within seconds. you didn’t have to say much, or anything at all really. the faint sounds of sniffles coming from you were explanatory enough. no matter what had happened this morning, or what might’ve been said and done — he was still your best friend. at the end of the day, seeing you smile was the only thing that really kept him going in this life. right or wrong, argument or not, he was there, and he always would be.

anytime, any place.

“you wanna’ tell me what, happened? hm,” his soft voice rumbles, a hand burying your face into the warmth of his chest as you let the tears fall and stain eren’s t-shirt, “it was him wasn’t it?”

the two of you hadn’t yet moved inside. you still stand in the middle of your doorway, rocking from side to side as you let eren ramble on with his theories, “hm? what’d he do to you?”

you cut him off, shaking your head from side to side as you wipe your face, “c-connie and i .. w-we had an argument .. “ you hiccup, incapable of even getting the words out. he knew that. that’s why he continues to comfort you, even with the rush of hearing the devil’s name leave your lips and the amount of anger surfacing to the shore in his mind, your waterworks are the most important right now.

but trust, if he could leave and beat connie’s ass to a pulp he would, but to abandon you in this state would be criminal.

“what’s been goin’ on?”

“it’s a long story.”

“i got all night, love.”

eren was right. he did in fact have all night, and you’d taken that opportunity to tell him everything — connie’s lack of attention, his inability to care, the amount of stupidity you’ve felt for the last few weeks ; he listens closely to every detail, only responding with minimal to no noise as connie clouds his consciousness. eren couldn’t fathom how someone as sweet, kind, and genuine as you could be put through such pain like this. all you’ve ever done is give and give and give, and knowing an insensitive bastard could fuck all of that up for you made his blood boil.

“i just don’t get it, y’know. i-i mean he was so sweet to me when i met him. always wanting to be around me, making the effort to see me — i just don’t know w-what changed,” you express, fingers swiping away the tears that stained your puffy cheeks and swollen doe eyes.

he expresses his concern with just a simple huff, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for you to finish your sentence. eren knew the answer. it was as easy as two plus two, but explaining it to someone as attached to connie as you would be almost impossible to persuade you to believe the truth — which was that he was just no good for you. eren wished — no, he dreamt you didn’t see his constructive criticism as jealousy, but then again, it was easy to portray it that way.

“he’s always been this way, yn — inconsiderate. he’s just gotten better at keeping it hidden longer.”

eren was expecting some sort of defense to come out of your mouth, but you don’t give it to him. instead, you obtain the somber expression of gloom casting over your usual sunny skied face.

as much as he wanted to tell you the blatant truth, eren quickly remembered that the power of words were truly bigger than man, “look, y’know how i feel about the guy, but if you really truly want my advice — from a friend’s perspective, i say you start lookin’ out for you. i know you like him n’ all, but you gotta’ start caring about your well being more. he’s putting you through hell right now and he doesn’t even have the decency to check on you.”

you nod because, well, it was true. eren was completely in the right. it was always about connie and moving on his time, but in reality, a relationship can’t ever even begin to work when both parties aren’t putting forth the effort. like the famous truth, ‘if he wanted to, he would’ but that was the thing with connie. there was no sense of want in this relationship unless it was coming from you. it was a hard pill to swallow, but these past five months with him had been purely carried by your energy and your energy alone.

if anything, it was a miracle he’d been around this long.

“i just don’t understand what i did wrong ..”

his blood boils all over again, a sheer amount of red on his flushed ears as eren can already feel himself becoming angry for the second time tonight. wrong? what you did wrong? how dare he — how dare he make you think so poorly about yourself? was connie insane — seriously, eren had to genuinely think. a woman having to second guess herself in general was horrid, but you? the woman he’s carefully watched sprout into a vivid, forever blooming flower since the small age of 9? the same woman who deserved the world in the palm of her hands?

nah, no way.

“don’t piss me off. for real, don’t.”

“m’ not trying to .. just think maybe i —“

“you really wanna’ sit in front of me and speak ill on yourself like you aren’t one of the most beautiful women i’ve ever laid my eyes on? and m’ not even talkin’ just physically — fuck that. m’ talkin’ spiritually, mentally — you don’t even realize your worth, mama.”

you let out a mix of a laugh and a scoff, “you really think that about me?” eren dramatically throws his head back, and places his hand on his chest, causing you to smile for the first time in a few hours.

“think? you serious? i know what i’m saying. he’d be a fuckin’ imbecile to lose you.” you don’t dare to stop his tangent, especially after hearing what’s to come out of his mouth next, “you’re sweet, you’re intelligent, charismatic, and prettier than you’ll ever begin to know. you’re ...” he stops himself, picking at the black polish on his fingernails, “perfect.”

you both look at one another, both of your eyes meeting at the same point as your breathing patterns become unsteady, the thickness of the air starting to become rather suffocating. eren’s words were delivered with such ease, and it wasn’t even in his usual, corny smooth talking manner. you could tell how much he’d regretted letting that sentence exit his brain though. his head was held downward, a scene of his chest rising and falling as the regret began to evolve into worry.

“you’re so sweet to me. ‘like you have a crush on me or somethin’.” your joke flies right over your head, because well, you knew damn well that would be one of the craziest things reality could throw at you. eren on the other hand, only lets out a forced laugh, playfully shoving your arm.

“mmch. whatever, mutherfucker.”

once your laugh diles down, there’s a comfortable silence in the room before you clear your throat and address the elephant in the room — the elephant that's been sitting quietly in the corner but had been aggressively knocking at the door in your mind over and over again for the last ten hours.

“eren..”

he turns to you again, those pretty eyes finding their focus in yours, “hm?”

“i’m sorry about this morning .. i should’nt have y’know .. kicked you out.”

“nah, it’s nothin.’ i know we just gotta’ get used to this whole thing. i should’ve just respected your rul —“

“but i kissed you back last night,” you interject, “i just…reacted badly, and i- i didn’t know how to respond to that. we’ve never been ...”

“that close before.” you’re eyes meet his once he finishes your sentence for you. eren’s were low, but still pleading as if he was waiting for the next few words that were scheduled to leave your mouth any moment now. yours were reddened — probably from the enormous amount of tears you’d shed throughout the time of connie’s departure, but also from the fact that you hadn’t blinked in a few seconds, not wanting to miss a single second of the sight of him in front of you.

“i’m still curious, y’know … i haven’t been the best student, but i’m still willing to learn some more.”

“i’ll do whatever you want me to do. just say the word.” his mouth was held open long enough to catch flies, and his steady breaths were morphing into a soft hyperventilation. you don’t say a word. neither does he. you both just send each other that look — the same look that was shared when he was on his knees devouring you not too long ago.

you take usage in his words, “i … i want you to kiss me, eren.” you’re scared to move. not only because of the amount of anxiety running through your body right now, but from eren’s physical reaction. he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“but last night you said –“

“i know what i said.”

he tilts his head, eyes not leaving your lips as the rush of kissing them begins to come back to him. he missed it. he missed it so much, and god, what he would give to feel them again, “lemme’ hear you again.”

“i-i want you to kiss me,” you repeat, and you take notice of the look on his face. his eyebrows were furrowed, nose almost as close to yours as it was the night before, “please kiss me, eren.”

“again,” he instructs, and you do. you keep repeating those words until his nose is brushing against yours, along with your foreheads pressed against one another’s — both too scared to find yourselves as desperate for each other as you were last night. eren hears your whispers, the sound of your sweet voice begging him to kiss you making his heart feel all the more swollen.

“can i?”

instead of answering his question with a sentence, you answer it with the thing you’d been wishing to do for the past twenty four hours — you kiss him, and you kiss him gently. your lips felt like dainty feathers tickling his own as your hands found their way to either side of his face. eren doesn’t question you, because he too was feeling the sparks flying over his head just like the first time. he still had his arms resting on the back of the couch, not yet touching you in fear of crossing the line — although, there were about to be many lines crossed tonight, that was only one many that he needed to be worrying about.

you want to feel him, you want him to feel you, and you start to whimper when you notice him pull away for a split second, but you go quiet when he pulls you into his lap by your waist. you fit so perfectly in his grasp, his hands firmly gripping your love handles while you try your best not to hunch your body against his.

but that was becoming impossible.

his cock was right underneath you, hard and clothed — his deep denim jeans poking at your ass as you sit. you hadn’t yet resumed kissing, but this was far more enjoyable. eren’s hands rest on your thighs and the moment he feels you drag your clothed cunt along his lap, he groans — loudly, too.

the shorts you had on were thin enough for eren to feel your folds rubbing on him, and your missing underwear underneath didn’t do him any justice. he was trying hard – so fucking hard not to completely forget that he needed to take his time with you. there was only one thing stopping eren from pulling his dick out and fucking up into you like his life depended on it, and that was the fact that you were new to all of this.

the same realizations from before boggle his mind again, “please tell me what you want from me, yn. you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy right now.” ashamed, eren shuts his eyes at the sound of his own desperation, yet you were equally as desperate as he was. both of you were fighting the urge from tearing one another apart – your reasoning being the fear of feeling those butterflies tumble around in your tummy again. it was wrong. you weren’t supposed to get those around him. he was just eren – your longtime, bittersweet, lovable bestfriend. you shouldn’t have wanted him in this way.

but you did, and you still do. and there was nothing in sight that could change that.

“i want you inside me..”

that’s when you felt a thump underneath you. you lightly gasp, surprised at the feeling but also aroused. something kicks inside of you, and you kiss him — yet again. eren almost immediately gives in this time, refusing to feed into his hesitation as previous. the kiss is messy and the motion is quick, but your hips – oh those hips, were moving slowly.

“you have no clue what you do to me.”

you nip at his lips again, “show me. what do i do, eren?” you keep winding your hips as you continue to taunt him with your lust filled eyes. your back arches and your globes poke out just a bit, the middle of your shorts pushing against your clit, “i can feel you. you’re so hard.. i-is all of that from me?”

that last line most definitely was your confidence talking, and although those jitters were still present, the power of your body taking over you.

“hold on to me.”

eren abruptly starts to rise up, and with you in his arms, he carries you down the corridor to his bedroom, which is on the right. as soon as you proceed in, you notice the distinct smell of his musk and a tiny candle burning in the corner of his bookshelf. your back touches his black, satin sheets as he lays you on the bed, making you shudder due to their chilly temperature.

eren continues to place small kisses all over your legs. you hadn’t yet seen his face since he laid you down, given how eager he was for his lips to be on your skin again, he was practically swimming in your aura, “you are so beautiful …” he mumbles, kissing your calf and up to your ankle. eren then gathers both of your legs, pulling you forward enough to where your ass was hanging halfway off of the mattress as your upper half lays prettily before him.

there he is, on his knees for you yet again.

“i can’t believe it get to touch you like this,” you close your eyes feeling his lips press against the pudge just above your pussy, too easily flustered to even dare look at him, “in all of your glory … bare just for me to see.” his lashes bat in a daze, a breathy laugh leaving his lips when he sees your hips squirm under his contact. you were so worked up, such an easy button to push — but time, time is what this would take.

“e-eren, you’re teasing …”

“am i? or are you too nervous to tell me what you want so much that you’re willin’ to sit there and let me frustrate you like this?” his pixelated eyes hold a menacing glare with yours, but you’re too busy trying to fix your gaze upon anything other than him. the way he was taunting you during your first time was sickening, stimulatingly sickening.

“i want you …”

“what was that?”

“ ‘want you eren, fuck! just do something already!”

eren releases a chuckle and pats your thigh twice, “that’s my girl.” after he says this he wastes no more time diving in. eren starts off with a wife tongue lick to your cunt, beginning at your ass, then slowly licking his way up to your clit before wrapping both lips around the swollen area. he had yet to tie his hair back, so to your advantage, your hands run through his coffee locks. you pull and scratch, making him grumble against you with pleasure.

you hate to admit that you missed the glee you got from feeling him lick you. but something so wrong felt so fucking right. it didn’t help that eren was practically a god when it came to eating pussy. he was treating you as if you weren’t still new to the feeling, but you loved it. you craved it. you needed it.

“t-that feels so fuckin’ g-good, ren- ohh!” your hips move in sync with his mouth, rubbing your cunt against his face as he follows your path, “waitwait – oh fuck!” you’re losing it, and you’re starting to lose your patience along with that sanity. he was slurping, kissing, licking and penetrating your pussy with his tongue and he had no remorse while doing so.

“awe, baby, you’re so wet … all that from me?” he mocks your previous words with a smirk, and that’s when eren slips a finger in without warning, and to be honest, there was no need to. if anything, you needed to be warning him for the messy orgasm you were tiptoeing around, “you get so tight when i use my hands, don’t you? so cute .. think you’re bout’ to cum for me already.”

“yesss! yes, i wan’ cum. i wanna’ cu-f-fuck,” his fingers tickle your gummy walls along with the impact from the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit — creating the perfect combination for nothing but pure bliss, “don’t make me beg for it, angel. just let go for me. give me all of it ..” his encouragement was doing its damn thing — the knot in your belly starting to untie itself on eren’s behalf. your body begins to convulse, jolting around and twisting all the which of ways he hoped it would.

“b-baby .. eren … i’m fucking c-cummingugh – oh!” eren quickly intertwined his hand in yours as you squeeze his knuckles for support through your life changing orgasm. you were too busy making the flesh on his hand turn pale from how hard you were holding on to notice the pet name that casually came out of you.

“yeah .. yeah, let it go just like that ...”

as he says this, you start to panic when you feel the certain pressure of your bladder being full. his finger is still working your hole, not pulling away for anything or anyone — not even you. eren sees your small hands trying to pry his own away, but he simply stops you by restraining the same hand pushing him, “r-ren, i don’t- i don’t know what’s — please, oh my ..” you babble.

“i know, baby. i know.” he holds eye contact with you, feeling your walls begin to tighten around his fingers yet again. that’s when he moves faster, jabbing his finger in and smoothly adding another to completely rupture you. his hand was cramping, but he could take that on any day if it meant he’d be able to see you fall apart, “you’re there. you’re right there, you feel that?”

eren’s question not only earns a loud whine from you, but it finishes you off completely. so much so that you couldn’t even pronounce a single word. the only thing you could begin to make out was his name, and even then, it was just hoarse whines and sappy gibberish. you don’t see it, but he does. he sees it all — the spurts of your cum covering his hand, the way your chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, your eyes looking into the back of your skull with your lips parted softly — you were fucking breathtaking.

“good fuckin’ girl,” eren huffs, dragging his fingers from out of your walls. as soon as he does, he gently pets your pussy, soothing the sore area with his hand as he uses the weight of one elbow to lean over and place kisses onto your temple. your body is still coming down from its peak, and your vision was still foggy — but you still needed him. you still craved his touch like you had a sweet tooth.

“you okay? didn’t hurt you did i?”

“n-no. more, ren, i just wan’ more …” your pleading eyes search for his lips, and once you find them, you inch closer by default. eren seals it for you, pressing his plumped ones onto your own. you feel the same fingers that were inside you creep up to your chin, then lips — trails of your wet essence lingering on your skin, “are you sure, yn?”

you bite your lower lip and nod slowly, running your hand up and down his bare chest, “ ‘m sure .. please — i wanna’ feel you.” there’s one more peck shared before he gets up. rising to his 6’4 frame, hovering over your resting body as his hands scramble to remove his belt. one loop after another, your heart rate induces, seeing the v-line that threatened to spill from his pants as he finally reaches the buttons on those suffocating jeans and you’re forced to finally take in his physique while you wait.

you knew eren was built. he always had been, but ever since he’d taken on the job as a mechanic, you could see him gradually grow stronger over time. all of that heavy lifting and damn near bending over backwards to fix outdated and damaged vehicles good as new was a tough job, but he made it look so easy. it wasn’t until now that you could actually get a good look at him. he’d abandoned that coltish, leaned look back in highschool, now carrying the weight of broad shoulders and a barrel chested front. you couldn’t help but to stare, especially with him having abs sharp enough to be a blade.

“stop eye-fuckin’ me. you’re making me nervous,” eren shyly grins as he continues to strip off his clothes. what you weren't anticipating was the sizable cock that was about to emerge from his black hannes boxers in a matter of seconds. you watch as eren’s thumbs gently pull the cloth of the waistband over the broad girth that sits inside of his underwear. when he’s finally freed, you can hear him lightly hiss, and his dick practically springs out like a door hinge against a wall. it was thick, inches galore, and hard as fuck by the looks of it. your eyes follow the blueish greenish veins petruding from the base of him all the way up to the rosey, strained tip. it looked so soft at the touch, so pent up, so … edible.

you watch as he moves over to his nightstand, snagging one of the condoms from it and ripping it open with his teeth. as soon as you see him lower his hands to his cock, you stop him, “can- can i put it on?” he pauses his movements, a bit taken back by your question but not exactly opposed to it — the thought of your soft hands coming into contact with his dick was a vision he’d give anything to see.

“yes-yeah, go for it,” he nods, handing it off, stepping closer into your vicinity to make it easier for you, “do you know how to put it o – aw .. f-fuck waitwaitwait -“ eren didn’t need to finish his sentence, because once your cold fingers wrapped around his base he was in heaven. your grasp was so light, but the feeling of your hand on him felt so heavy. it was taking everything he had not to cum from the act of your touch alone.

you, on the other hand, were in awe, taking the rubber in one hand, holding his frustrated dick in the other while you ease the material around his shape. eren let’s go of a small groan, throwing his head back as his belly pokes forward and back in at the pace of his breathing.

you were amazed.

“oh my god ..”

so amazed that you didn’t mean to say that aloud, “what? what’s wrong?”

“nothing .. you’re just … big.”

he shyly, and nervously laughs, “what, don’t think it’ll fit?” if you were speaking by just the looks of it — no, it didn’t look like it’d fit. you were a virgin for crying out loud, that thing looked like a fucking weapon.

“hmm, m’ a brave girl i’ll be fine. i promise. i would tell you if i wasn’t,” you ease. eren nods, looking down at you as you blink your pretty falsies up at him with a smile on your face, “now hurry before i dry out.”

he shakes his head and laughs at your attempt at humoring the mood, but that laugh fades once you spread your legs for him again. eren looks down at you, looking at your sprawled out figure in awe. you still had your shirt on. no bra, so simple to see your hardened nipples through your baby pink tee. you looked so pretty, so needy, and so ready to take him like this wasn’t your first time around.

“i know you’re excited, but please, yn, tell me if i’m making you uncomfortable or if m’ hurtin you. i don’t care if it’s the smallest touch, please. tell. me.”

“mkay.”

“yn, for real. if you aren’t comfortable, punch me or pinch me or someth —“ ”

the amount of concern in his tone humors you, giggling a bit as you say, “i know, eren. i said okay,” he gives you his eyes once more before beginning to climb on top of you, your thigh being skimmed by the tip of his cock as he places both of his arms on either side of your head. he’s so close now. not on his knees, or beside you, or somewhere in front of you — no, he was right here. face to face so much so that his shaky breaths trickle your nose as he tries his best to keep his breathing steady.

eren balances back on his knees as he grabs ahold of his cock, tugging at it a little so that precum coats his tip and fingers as lubricant. you were already wet, but he needed to make this somewhat easy — he had to, for your sake and his. hurting you just wasn’t something he had on his agenda. so he takes the extra mile to make sure — a glob of saliva falling from his mouth and onto his condom covered base as he strokes it.

“f-fuck …” he moans, swallowing as his thumb runs over the pumping vein just before his tip, and once he’s done prepping himself, he sits his cock directly onto your belly — the tip of it stopping just at your shimmery-pierced bellybutton. he shakes his head from side to side, gassed at the knowledge of knowing how deep he’d be inside of you, “ima’ slide it in, okay?”

you nod at his words, and when you do, you wrap your arms around his neck, “deep breaths. take deep breaths for me.” you hear him, and you do what he tells you, inhaling and exhaling as you feel eren’s cock sit right at your folds, “i’ll give you just the tip for right now, okay ..” a whine gets caught in your throat as he rubs himself in between them, your wetness making a pretty sound that fills his ears with lust. he even taps it on the surface a little bit, a small ‘pat pat’ — testing the waters, seeing just how arroused you’d gotten from him and only him.

“m’ gonna take care of you, i promise.”

“you always do, ren.”

he kisses your temple, then your cheek and nose, “you ready?”

your chest rises and falls with one last deep breath, your head falling back onto the pillow behind you, “ready.”

eren hears your consent and it slowly begins — the first attempt at easing himself past that first barrier with as much care as he could. your body flinches and you whince, and almost immediately eren starts to remove himself from your entrance, but you stop him, “ ‘m okay, ren, ‘m okay. just feels so ..”

“different?”

“yeah .. d-different,” he looks at you for approval again and you give it to him, your eyes dropping down to look in between your legs as you see that you still have so much more to go. this was just the tip, and even then, it still wasn’t all the way in. how difficult would it be to take the full thing? no matter how soft his strokes were or how painless he could try and make the process be, eren was huge — and with a curve too. you’d be lucky if you got out of this without a limp tomorrow morning.

“we can take it slow, okay? don’t strain yourself, just take me slow … ” when his palm touches the side of your face, his thumb brushing your bottom lip, you almost immediately feel a tiny bit of relief. you nod and you sense him once more, his tip piercing your skin and leaving a sting in its wake. it was a painful stretch, no doubt about it. out of every account you've heard of losing your virginity, you can infer that after this point, everything really just depended on that individual person. you’d heard mixed opinions, and you’d always assumed the worst. but honestly, in this moment, you could only come to the conclusion that it all depended on the sensual nature of you and your partner’s relationship.

yes, you were in pain, but you were so drawn to eren that you wanted to push through it. “a-aah- oh my— fuck!” your eyes are shut so tightly that you start to see white spots in the inside of your eyelids. you feel eren’s hand reach down to your clit, trying to steer the uncomfortable stretch away from you by rubbing small, kind circles repeatedly as you huff and let out strangled whines.

“you okay? you wan’ me to stop?”

you shake your head, “nonono — just .. h-hurts ren.” he feels your nails clawing at his forearms. you, on the other hand, not even realizing your fingers were leaving deep crescent marks on his flesh. he didn’t mind it though, not at all. in fact —

“bite me. scratch me — do whatever you need to do, baby ..” eren’s forehead was already beginning to perspire as he spoke, and his hips were carefully advancing to slowly deliver you every inch — although, he was rather heartbroken to witness your reactions, “i just need you to feel good.” your pain was almost too much for him, almost enough to make him want to call this whole thing off, but on your word, he continues. he continues to watch your every move as your eyes sit on the verge of watering whilst his cock softly splits you in half. you heed his advise, lifting your neck a little for you to bite down on his shoulder and leave marks in your wake.

he continues to guide himself in while his palm rests on the back of your head, pulling you in closer into his neck as he whispers into your ear, “just a little more to go, my love. you’re almost – shit – there.”

“r-ren … nnn – f-fuck!”

“i know, sweet girl. i know.”

he kisses you to divert your attention away while the stray tears on your face fall to your lips, the tang of salt hitting both of your taste buds. you push through the pain and let him give you a little bit more. before you bottle up your next set of cries — he’s fully in, and when he is, you can see the small bulge in your belly from his cock when you look down. eren patiently allows himself to sit deeply in your warmth, letting your whimpers simmer down as you become more and more used to the full feeling in your tummy, “there you go. nice n’ slow, let it sink in just l-like that …” your mouth is held open, and the only sounds that can be heard from you were small gasps of relief from finally getting the hard part over with.

“well would you look at that? you did it, s-see?” he shudders, mainly speaking to you, but also patting himself on the back for not cumming within the first ten seconds of being inside you.

“i-i did, didn’t i?” your hand hovers over the spot on your stomach, rubbing the area where you feel him most. he watches you closely, he too, stunned from reality hitting him right in the chest like a wrecking ball, “s-shit, eren … ‘s so deep.”

eren jeager was inside you.

and eren jaeger was about to fuck the shit out of you.

“does everything feel okay? didn’t hurt you too much did i?” you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as you close your eyes, “you still with me, yn?”

“yesyes, ‘m here.” eren takes this as an opportunity to wipe your tears with his thumbs, sending a quick kiss to your lips while smiling. you’d gotten through the hard part, and now? now it was time for the highly anticipated fun, “y-you can start moving now …” eren hears your voice softly say. he gives you that look you knew rather well — that look of ‘are you sure’ knowing damn well you were more sure than you’ve ever been about anything before. you gladly give it to him, cheekily grinning a bit as you nod your head up and down.

eren gradually sits up on his knees, palming the backs of your thighs softly as he peers down at your figure under him, still snugged comfortably inside of you. he was plainly freaking out and, to put it mildly, astonished. when his eyes met yours, that’s when the air felt heavier than it already was, along with the same feeling of fluttering butterflies in his tummy dancing along to the beat of his racing heart.

he begins to move in the direction and pace you want, slowly pulling his cock in and out of you, scared of hurting you still even after hearing you repeat ‘im okay’ to him over and over again. you attentively observe his furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip, and the sight causes your walls to swell and pulse. the ache that had almost felt intolerable a few minutes ago had begun to eventually subside, leaving you simply with a tickling sensation now.

“god .. yn - fuck..” he pants, steadily swinging his pelvis straight into the back of your thighs as his balls slap lightly against your ass, “pussy’s s-so tight, mama ..” he wasn’t lying at all. in fact, you were squeezing him so tightly that he had to use enough force to pull himself out of you. he hisses, feeling the wind get knocked out of his chest by just looking at how well you were doing. he was so proud of you, filled with so much elation while being inside of you that it almost felt like a dream he would’ve never thought would come to life.

“ ‘ssss .. it feels — eren … please —”

“feels like what, hm? tell me all about it ..” the tone of eren’s voice is soft enough to soothe you some more, but deep enough to bring you to unintentionally clench around him. your warm walls smothering his cock, and your eyes watching him move in and out of you as your chest heaves.

“feel s’ full,” you babble and he hissed out a laugh. that’s when you spread your legs wider, feeling comfortable enough to get into the hang of it. although you were new to this, you found yourself suddenly wanting more.

“mhm, pussy’s eatin’ my fuckin’ dick up, isn’t she? you feel so goddamn good …” eren keeps his steady pace, delivering deep, slow, strokes to your cunt before sitting up to lightly massage your calves and feet. he keeps eye contact with you, and even though yours refuse to keep their focus on his, he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t stop losing himself in both you and your battered pussy, squeaking with every dirty line leaving his lips. your arms reach out to wrap themselves around his neck, and he easily picks up on your gesture — now hovering directly on top of you, balancing himself on one forearm while his opposite hand grips at the headboard above you — minimizing the weight of his body on yours.

“sh-shit — ouuu, eren!”

for a moment, there’s only silence in the room. besides your minimal breathing and eren’s small groans that he failed to suppress were the only sounds that could be heard through an echo. both of you bask in one another’s presence while you let the tranquility of the moment steer you of to sea. “h-harder, ren .. please, harder,” you lightly tap his shoulder with your fingers to gather his attention, eyes batting rapidly as you try to keep consciousness from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“harder? baby, you look like you can barely keep your eyes open,” he laughs attentively, looking down at the droplets of sweat beginning to fall down the sides of your face. yeah, he was right, you could barely open your eyes, but you had enough strength to flutter them and give him an annoyed, yet needy, glance.

a soft sigh escapes his lips and that’s when he seizes your request, pushing his cock further into you — as deep as it could go and then right back out again, a suckle being left behind. you whine — no, you scream, “oouh - fuck, eren, just like t-that,” almost loud enough to send a concerned expression to eren’s face, but when you claw at his biceps he soon realizes it was a scream of pure ecstasy.

“ah, shit. yeahyeahyeah, talk to me, baby. you’re takin’ it so fucking good ..” his tone is taunting and well past just casual dirty talk. he was digging deep, verbally and physically, saying shit just to bring a reaction out of you — curious of what he could say and do to make you squirm and sniffle around him, “greedy lil’ pussy. takin’ me in so easily on her first run — you’re bein’ so good to me, princess.”

“ren — oh my god … r-right there, right there, right there — shit, eren!” his words had gone right over your head. too lost in the the way he dips his hips deep into your core to even dare to speak anything more than a string of moans. your lips form a pout, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when you suddenly feel eren’s tip poking right at your g-spot — which, he proudly didn’t take very long to discover. you didn’t know it yet, but the constant pressure against your womb would be building up soon — creating a rather diabolical sensation for both your mind and body all in one.

“where? right here?” the question is followed by a strong, but still conscious thrust. slow, yet powerful. steady, but mighty — eren now driving himself into you right where you wanted him, “awe, baby, did i find your spot? like when my dick kisses you right here, don’t you?” you can’t speak, nor can you begin to fathom why on earth eren was making you feel so lightheaded. disregarding the pleasure and the present circumstances, you felt alive. you felt like you couldn’t get this amount of euphoria from anything or anyone.

it wasn’t just the movement of his hips, or the nasty serenading words leaving his mouth, or even those angelic eyes that held an untold story — no no, it was the amount of emotion he brought you. the amount of love he’s shown you. the way he held you with such grace and tenderness like you were easy to shatter. it was all too surreal. the feeling, the gestures, the warmth — everything .. he was everything.

“faster! faster, please eren — nnnn y- you’re so deep ..” you clench around him, your pussy sucking him in more and more as he continues to drive you into shambles. your eyes travel down, focusing on the way he had to pull in and out of you with more force than needed simply because of how hard you were squeezing him. with each passing thrust, you could see his tip poking at your tummy over and over, forming a bulge right below your belly button.

“aah, shhhit, gonna’ make me fuckin’ cum, b-baby.” he nervously snickers, trying to hold on as much as a could, and god was it hard. eren could almost find himself becoming overwhelmed. there were too many things to focus on — between your expressions, lustrous eyes, and small grunts — he could cum right then as he spoke.

“o-oh, so close .. c-close, m’ so close rennie .. please let m-me cum with you ..”

you have a siren voice, one of command and alluring undertones like you were singing a symphony to pull anyone into a trance — and that’s exactly what you did. you words had much power, and eren suddenly feels a knot untying in his belly, the same knot as you. you both huff and puff, whispering small praises to one another like you’ve been in love for ages now.

your hands reach the sides of his face, carefully pulling him in closer for a kiss. you feel him meet you half way, closing the space between you both by kissing you like you were an an antidote he so desperately needed. he tugs on your bottom lip softly, closing his eyes and melting into you as he tries his hardest to bring you both to the finish line.

“c’mon, baby, c’mon. cum with me — cum all over this dick,” eren unconsciously fastens his hips, sending strong, and now sloppy, thrusts to you. you feel him deep, deep in your stomach. so much that you feel the urge to push against his toned tummy due to the overwhelming power he had over your body, “nah, don’t run. t-take it just how you were. i know you wanna’ let it go ..”

“eren .. i’m cumming, baby … i’m cumming — oh god …” your eyes slam shut and your swollen clit is caught by eren’s thumb as he rubs circles over the agitated flesh. the wet squelching sound of your cunt was almost loud enough to drown out your moans as you find yourself shakily wetting up eren’s dick, “renrenren, wai — unngh!” your legs stutter closed and he opens them right back up, only this time, grabbing onto your hips and fucking you at an angle to carry you all the way to the end.

you push your head back deep into the plushed pillow underneath your neck, bawling your fists as the commotion in your stomach is finally fulfilled. there are tears in your eyes, followed by desire and pleasure — not to mention the creamy noise of your pussy sucking in eren’s dick with no problem, “y-yyes .. yesyesyes — erennn!”

he’s quiet — or rather focused, concentrating on your trembling figure while feeling his own orgasm begin to pool over rapidly, “fuckin’ christ,” he groans hoarsely, his hips bucking as he’s cumming deep into the condom that would soon threaten to burst from the amount of essence he would let go. eren’s body nearly smothers your own as he loses his balance, hugging you close as he finishes. he buries his head in the crevice between your neck and shoulder, drool pooping from his mouth and onto your skin as he tries his best not to go limp.

his thrusts are slow to none, body shaking from the overstimulation. you press your chest against his, your nipples still stoned from earlier while you embrace him through his climax. you’re breathing hard, and so is he — lost in one another’s eyes as a million thoughts begin to crowd around you both. eren studies your ancy hips that still wiggled for more as he kisses your collarbone, down your chest and all around your stomach. he’s still inside of you, snugged deep along your walls with his tip puckering against your cervix. you felt sore, yet still so needy even after cumming all over both his dick, and his fresh sheets beneath you.

“jesus .. yn that was —“

“so fucking good.”

eren nods, his wet lips placing kisses on both of your cheeks while his calloused hands cradle your head, “yes, so fuckin’ good — you were .. so fuckin’ good,” he holds you close as he pulls himself out, grunting into your ear as your pussy still clenches down onto him without much effort. once he’s out, woe and behold, he slides off his messy condom and tosses it into the trash can near you both. before you knew it, eren was heading straight toward the bathroom, with you in his arms — bridal style. he carries you straight to the tub, ushering you to sit on the toilet and pee right before deciding to run a mixture of warm and semi cool temperatured water.

“i know how i can be .. was i too rough? y’know .. besides the beginning?” there’s a puppy dog look in his eyes when he asks this. your eyes trace the small tattoos on his fingers, those same fingers grazing the flesh on your inner thighs as eren wipes away the made you’d both made with a hot cloth first. he looked so sleepy — and how couldn’t he be given the amount of effort he’d put into making you feel the best that you possibly could. he cared so much, almost too much — so gentle and patient, light with every touch and phrase.

“don’t think too much, you were everything i could ever ask for ..”

scooping you up again, he places you in the bath that’d been calling your name since he made you finish the first time tonight. he shrugs and shakes his head as a smile creeps up on his lips, “psh, you’re just talkin’ ..”

“nono, seriously. thank you for being so sweet about .. all of this,” eren attentively pays close attention to your words, his hands now caressing your legs and french-tip painted toes as he sits next to the tub, watching your lips move to the speed of your words — slow and endearing. he studies the moister of them, wishing to take them into his mouth yet again, “you’ve been so kind to me — and patient, i feel like i-i can’t thank you enough with words.”

he sits for a moment, letting you get used the to the water, but obviously taken aback by your words. he was already trying to detach himself from the emotions he could feel bubbling in his chest the minute he pulled out, but you were just making it so fucking hard. you were in his house, in his bathtub, and would soon be wearing his clothes to sleep for the night — and all eren could think about was how he’d give up anything to make this a regular occurrence. he liked taking care of you. he liked being around you. he liked feeling you and letting you feel every inch of him — but most importantly, and probably most controversially, he liked you.

eren liked you, a lot.

but to say that sentence aloud would be a nightmare. professing his feelings in the heat of a moment like this could lead him right back to where you both were earlier this morning ; awkward, angry, confused — it was too much. if keeping silent meant keeping the peace, then that’s exactly what he’d do.

“hey hey, i don’t need ‘thank you’s’, yn. just doin’ you a favor remember? if anything i should be thankful you trusted me enough .. y’know, with all this. i know it might not have been your ideal first time but …”

it’s quiet now, but you smile, “it was perfect, eren. it was nothing less than perfect.”

the clock reads 1AM and you’ve fallen asleep in eren’s arms yet again for the second night in a row, snuggled into his chest as the sound of his beating heart soothes you like a soothing lullaby. he listens to the sound of your light snores while inhaling the mouth watering scent of the vanilla body wash he’d used on you, dozing off a bit as he grows excitedly anxious from the thought of you being the first person he would be seeing in the morning.

there you were ; laying on his bed, under his sheets, in his arms. you were freshly bathed, courtesy to eren splashing you with water and bubbles during the two hour long bath he’d given you — most of that time spent talking about any and everything with one another rather than cleaning you up, but he didn’t mind it one bit.

there was moment where he thought he could really get used to this — feeling your body fall into in his warmth so effortlessly while whispering sweet melodies into your ear. he felt like there was nothing on planet earth that could ruin this moment.

well, that was until his phone rattled against his nightstand, buzzing with three rounds of texts and two missed calls from no other than the villain himself — connie.

connie fucking springer.

the first text could be traced back to when you’d first arrived at eren’s doorstep.

bald man 9:52PM

yo i gotta talk to you about some shit.

the second, you were too busy moaning out in pleasure for eren to even think about reaching for his damn phone.

bald man 11:01PM

are u alive? i know i fucked up at poker but damn bro

bald man 1:15AM

i know ur awake fucker. come outside your place im already parked. hurry up before i have to walk my ass up there and drag you out my damn self.

eren’s eyes flicker to the time on his phone, at the text, then back at you again, the time reading 1:20AM.

bald man 1:20AM

i know she’s in there. i saw her car parked a few spots over open your fuckin door.

#🏹 : saturn’s writing —#HIIII HIII HIIII #FINALLY SATURN DAMN LIKE #okay yall but we here fr #eren x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren x black reader #eren x fem!reader #eren x you #snk eren #eren yeager

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junkissed · 1 year

Note

JUNE!!! what if biting his pecs right before the pictures were taken so that's why he's wearing that blazer 👀

member— bf!jun x reader genre — smut, idol!au word count — ~850 smut warnings — no descriptions of reader anatomy but jun uses "good girl" as a nickname so do with that what you will, making out (like hard), dry humping, a lot of detail about abs (duh), marking, reader is a little bit possessive about the marking, somewhat dom!jun, everything is very fast and rough and steamy notes — if you wanna know how i'm doing after these pics dropped... you don't wanna know (hint: not well)

“fuck,” jun moans breathlessly as he bucks his hips up into you, his fingers holding your waist in a death grip against his lap. “you know my stylist fucking hates you, right?”

“like i give a shit,” you scoff, grazing your teeth over his hard nipple. you can feel the noises he makes vibrating deep in his chest, a low grumble beneath your lips as you let your mouth wander across his skin. “they put you in an outfit like this and expect me to not want to fuck the life out of you?”

you’re sure somebody must be looking for him by now, and people are probably starting to get angry that he’s late for the next round of photoshoots, but when he’d pulled you into his dressing room to get your approval for his outfit, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to get your hands on him, not when he looks so good so exposed like this.

it won’t be the first time his makeup artists will have to cover the fading bruises you’ve left all over his body. but in this outfit that shows off his defined abs and leaves little to the imagination, this time there’s no fabric to hide your marks from the camera. though no one ever mentions it, you know everyone notices, and it gives you a selfish sense of pride knowing that you alone are the one responsible for them.

the exhilaration of having so little time together makes your heart race with a kind of desperation you’ve never felt before. you’ve had plenty of quickies in bathrooms and closets, backstage rooms and changing areas, but never like this. sitting in jun’s lap, fully clothed, both of you frantically grinding against each other as you make it your mission to put your mouth on every inch of him as fast as you possibly can.

jun nearly growls when you rake your nails down his torso, his hands quickly moving up your body to cup your chin and pull your face towards him to capture your lips.

you push your hands flat against his chest, feeling his firm muscle beneath your palms as you desperately work your mouth with his, the sounds of both your whines mixing with the sloppy noise from your kisses.

his hands tighten in your hair, pulling your head back quickly as you both gasp for air. “god, i wanna fuck you so bad right now, but there’s no time,” he murmurs, and you can feel the heat from his breath washing over your lips.

your hands fall to his hips, tracing the deep ridges of his v-line with your fingertips as he tosses his head back with a choked moan. you lean forward to smash your lips against his, and just as you’re about to follow the trail of hair on his stomach down lower, there’s a loud knock at the door and a voice calling jun’s name urgently.

“fuck— baby, i really gotta go,” he groans as he pulls away from you, your bottom lip caught between his teeth for a second before his mouth leaves yours. “you’re gonna make me cum in these pants, and then they’ll really be pissed.”

you whine in annoyance and your fingers grip onto the collar of his jacket trying to tug him back to you, but he grabs your waist to lift you off of his lap, and reluctantly you let him stand up. he curses under his breath as he grabs at his crotch with shaky hands, trying to adjust himself quickly so the tent in his pants isn’t quite so obvious.

he wraps his hands around your waist and drags you toward him, giving you another kiss. “be a good girl and i’ll let you ride my abs when we get home later, okay?” he says in a hoarse voice, his fingers trailing down your jaw. “i know how much you like that. and then after that maybe i’ll let you lick me clean, as a treat.”

“god, that sounds so good. please make this fast, jun, please,” you moan.

“my needy baby,” he chuckles, still a little out of breath. “i’ll try, but we’re already behind schedule, and you know how long these things take.”

“i can think of something else that’s long that i’d rather be taking right now,” you pout at him. you run your hands over his chest once more, and he laughs and pulls you back in for one last rough kiss before heading for the dressing room door.

“i promise i’ll be as fast as i can, and then you can have me all you want. i’ll see you after.” he winks, and a second later he’s gone.

the door slams shut and you fall back down onto the chair with a sigh, leaning your head back as your hand slips down between your legs. you’re impatient, and you’ve got nothing but time to kill waiting for jun to finish working. but the thoughts running through your head and the lingering feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips is more than enough to keep you occupied until he comes back.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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wrestletotheground · 7 months

Text

you get me closer to god - matty healy x reader (part one)

boss!matty

cw: ! minors dni ! smut, age gap (20/34), power imbalance, cheating, f!reader, dom/sub, male masturbation, spit, cumplay, voyeurism, semi-public, office work affair, general filth and nasty behaviour

wc: 2.1k

8:30am

you're sat on the sofa across from matty in his office, basking in the slanted rays of sunlight that peep through the blinds. the office is warm, the air filled with a faint musky scent that's recently become a comfort to you.

he called you in early supposedly to discuss your 'behaviour in the workplace', but so far it's just been him making small talk about work and typing away, deliberately acting oblivious towards the tension in the room. he throws you the occasional glance over his computer screen, but they never linger long enough to satisfy you. you're practically twiddling your thumbs in conversation, vying for his attention any way you can by throwing in little jokes and references or tapping your fingers on the chair, but he won't budge.

his breaking point is when you clear your throat obnoxiously loudly, spreading your legs and crossing them again in your skimpy little skirt just to taunt him. and oh, it works. this time it's more than a short glance. his jaw clenches as he watches you, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into fists. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you, as if you'd mind. you smile sweetly, a glint in your eyes as you relax into the chair.

he mutters something under his breath before shutting off his laptop and clearing away the stacks of papers that litter the space in front of him. a few pens clatter to the floor as he carelessly throws everything aside. all the while you can't stop staring at him, trying to figure out the almost unreadable expression on his face.

he taps the desk in front of him twice, gesturing with his head and looking at you expectantly. the fiery look in his eyes tells you you're in for it today. he stares intently, hungrily, as you stand up and walk around as slowly as possible, just to push his buttons. before you have the chance to get up onto the desk, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into him, making your entire face heat up.

'you know exactly what you're doing, don't you? been walking around all week in these little skirts,' he says, giving it a tug to emphasise his point. you bite the tip of your crimson painted nail and shake your head, acting naive and failing miserably. 'they leave nothing to the imagination baby, we can't be having that. nono,' he tuts, shaking his head and looking up at you disapprovingly. 'all those filthy boys in the office gawking at my girl, save it for the real man, the boss, yeah?' you feel yourself flush at his words, and all you can do is mumble out a vague 'yes' sound as your gaze wanders from his eyes to his lips and back again, almost like you're trying to memorise every detail in case he disappears.

'be good for me, darling,' he whispers, staring up at you like you're the messiah. 'mm, whatever you want,' you reply, tilting your head back as he starts running his hands up and down your body, squeezing your hips. you feel so small under his touch, acutely aware of how easy and effortless it is for him to hold so much power over you. he pulls at the fabric around your waist and you help him out by shoving the flimsy skirt down and kicking it off to the side somewhere, making his breath hitch in his throat.

without another word he lifts you up onto the desk. the cool wood touching your thighs sends a shiver up your spine, quickly being replaced by the warmth of his hands on your knees, spreading them apart without breaking eye contact. he's standing now, towering above your face and making you feel smaller than ever. 'you gonna help me out angel?'

you nod quickly, heart hammering in your chest and heat pulsing elsewhere. your thighs clamp around him, hips pushing towards the obvious bulge in his suit trousers. a condescending laugh echoes through the room. 'oh already? haven't even touched you yet and already you're fucking desperate for me,' he says, pulling your knees out from his waist. 'no, please, im just-' he cuts you off by grabbing the collar of your shirt and pushing his lips onto yours, unable to refrain from the way your voice wavers as you fall into subspace for him yet again.

the faint taste of your cherry lip balm makes him impossibly more turned on and his tongue presses into your mouth like he could just swallow you whole.

he unzips his trousers and you immediately reach out to touch him, desperate to help him, to feel him, regain some of that power, but as soon as your fingertips graze his stomach he swats your hand away and steps backwards. 'did I say you could touch me?' your head shakes of its own accord, and you whine in protest when he sits back down onto the office chair, leaving you exposed and helpless.

'you don't get to touch me or yourself. eyes on me, legs apart and keep them pretty hands behind your back unless I say, okay?' you sigh and breathe out a shaky 'okay', your head swimming at the thought of being there solely for his pleasure.

he grabs at his dick through the tight trousers and grunts at the relief. your eyes are trained on his hand, the way the veins push out as his fingers tighten around the clear outline. the way the silver band on his ring finger shines in the morning light.

you notice how his face is directly facing your cunt, drops of arousal spilling out and seeping into the baby pink cotton the longer he stares. it's getting harder and harder not to touch yourself, or him for that matter. especially when he lifts his hips and pulls down his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles. especially when he strokes along his length tantalisingly slowly, teasing the both of you. you're utterly fixated on the mouth-watering shape under the fabric, straining to be released.

he pushes his thumb under the waistband, momentarily denting the perfect shape of his rose tattoo. he moves them down, but only enough to free his cock. it's leaking already, red and angry and desperate and he groans at the feeling of the air hitting it.

'fuck, look what you do to me, love,' he says as he finally lets his hand wrap around his erection. your thighs twitch at his words.

he starts off slowly as usual. long, languid strokes as he drinks in your body in front of him, especially enraptured by the wet patch between your legs. you want nothing more than to wrap your mouth, your hand even, around him, help him feel good, but you're not in the mood of being punished today. instead you just let the coil in your stomach tighten with every little movement and sound that comes from him; let him render you an embarrassingly wet mess in front of his eyes.

you try your hardest not to squirm, not to give in and have him watch you disappointedly as you fuck yourself with your fingers selfishly, but good girls don't do that. you need to be everything he wants.

'lift up your shirt,' he huffs, teeth baring for a second as he pumps himself desperately. you oblige, gently hiking up the hem of your perfectly ironed white shirt and turning it into a vulgar sight as it touches your neck, revealing your chest to him, framed in pretty black lace that you always wear just for him.

'shit, my pretty little girl, fucking love those tits, all for me, aren't they?'

'all for you, no one else,' you reply, pushing them together and rubbing your fingers over your nipples in an attempt to ease some of the pressure inside you. you're so worked up that the simple action sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your back arch.

'what did I fucking say, leave your shirt up there, hands behind your back,' he spits. you inadvertently whimper as you obey him once again, catching the shirt under your armpits to keep it up above your tits as you place your hands back onto the hard wood behind you.

waves of humiliation crash over you at how bare you feel before him, and you have to look away for a second to regain composure.

your eyes flick to the gold rimmed photo on the wall and you can't help but wonder how long he's needed this. his appetite for you is seemingly insatiable at all times, despite the woman in white pictured next to him outside the chapel.

you're snapped out of your thoughts as a strangled groan leaves his chest. you look down and see his thumb swiping precum over the head of his cock. his hips start to buck upwards and he continues stroking up and down, faster now. you make a show of grinding up into the air as he stares at you with eyes clouded in lust. your pussy is throbbing, begging for anything, even a gust of wind, to soothe the ache that's worsening and worsening the longer you watch him getting himself off.

suddenly he stands up and comes towards you, eyebrows scrunched up in desire. he taps your jaw with one hand, the other continuing his unrelenting pace. you know the signal by now, and you open your mouth obligingly and let out a theatrical moan as he spits onto your tongue. seeing you swallow and grin devilishly up at him is what tips him over the edge.

'fuck- baby- come here,' a series of grunts falls from his lips as his chest heaves, fucking his fist hard and fast. he hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear and pulls it outward, leaning forward so his tip is practically touching your abdomen. 'what...' you trail off, catching on to his plan as soon as spurts of cum start to dribble into your underwear, soaking and mixing into your slick.

'fucking hell,' he moans through shaky breaths. your breath catches in your throat, releasing a groan of pleasure as some of the warmth drips down and lands on your burning skin. he whimpers, eyes focused on your core and then rolling back into his head as he milks the last few drops out.

you can't help how quickly your hand goes to your aching bundle of nerves, desperate for more, hard contact, but he grabs a hold of your wrist before you get the chance. the glare he gives you makes you retract instantly, remembering his earlier orders. you lean back on your hands again reluctantly like a good girl, to please him.

he gives a satisfactory hum before gripping your neck, making you gasp and splutter with the force. even though he's a bit dazed and out of breath, the only thing that falters is his voice as he orders you around like his little plaything. 'you're gonna walk around with this pretty little cunt covered in me all day, right? come back to me at the end of the day and if you've been good I'll reward you,' as he speaks, he lets the elastic snap back against your hot skin and palms at your core through the soaked fabric. you nod and whine at the feeling of the warmth being pushed against you, the sticky mess spreading and mixing in an obscene concoction of lust, your head rolling back in ecstasy. it's wrong - so wrong - but you can't get enough.

'thank you sir,' you reply, your face burning up at the shame gnawing at the back of your mind. he rolls his eyes at how needy you look, not even 9am and you're already grinding against his hand, begging for anything he's willing to give you. 'pathetic,' he whispers, giving your cunt a light slap and dragging another sound from your lips. he slides his middle finger up his slit, collecting the milky remainder and shoves it in your mouth. he watches you moan in contentment as you lap it up, relishing in the salty taste and eventually releasing it with a pop.

without warning, all contact is lost and he's ordering you down off his desk to go back out to yours. you look up at the clock. fuck. 8:51. you scramble to get your skirt back on and fix yourself up as he pulls up his jeans with a smug look plastered on his face, throwing you a wink as he does up the zipper.

'enjoy your day sweetheart,' he smirks, grabbing your ass and pushing you out the door just before the first of your coworkers start to file into their respective cubicles. you check your reflection in a nearby computer screen to make sure you don't look as flustered as you feel, before sitting down. it's going to be a long day.

#boss!matty au #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #matty healy #the 1975 #trumanblack #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann

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answer2jeff · 8 months

Text

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

#lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #shameless x OC #lip gallagher x reader smut #lip gallagher x oc smut #shameless #shameless x reader #jeremy allen white #i hope you guys like this!!!#tried really hard with this new style

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f6bron · 9 months

Text

delicate lilac.

pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader

notes : bad boy x sunshine trope, mutual-pining but both of them are unaware of it, potential friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff >.<

The campus buzzed with energy as students hurriedly moved from one class to another. Among the sea of people, Li Zhao Yu, also known as Iso, stood out—an enigmatic figure with a formidable reputation that sent shivers through many.

Yet, beneath the intimidating facade, a softer side existed, one that only revealed itself in the presence of one person.

And that's you, Y/N L/N.

As the two of you and your friends strolled through the campus, Iso couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched you interact with your friends. Laughter filled the air, and Iso's eyes followed the movement of your lips as you spoke animatedly.

Your plump cherry lips, soft skin, and the way the sun highlighted your features. He longed for the day he could receive a similar treatment from you.

"Must be nice," he thought, unconsciously fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

"Iso?" you called, snapping him back to reality.

Stammering, caught off guard by your sudden attention, he replied, "Y-yeah?"

You let out a tiny giggle, a sound that made warmth creep up onto Iso's face. "What were you daydreamin' about?"

"Oh, nothing. I… I was just thinking about–" Iso fumbled over his words, nervousness taking over. Are you being for real, Iso?! This is not you!

Before he could realize it, you slipped a piece of candy into his rough and calloused hands—a stark contrast between your soft and delicate hands and his rugged ones.

"Huh?" he questioned, giving you a puzzled look.

"You said you wanted a strawberry-flavoured candy," you reminded him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Iso could feel warmth engulfing his heart, not expecting you to remember the tiny details he mentioned during the casual conversation you guys had on your way to class.

"Don't tell anyone, but… I kinda stole it from Jett."

"Really… for me?" Iso asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah! For you!" you replied, causing Iso to chuckle. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"Thanks…"

"All right, lovebirds! Enough of that," Phoenix interjected from behind, placing his hands on both Iso's and your shoulders. "We gotta get movin'."

"We're not—"

"Whatever," Phoenix shrugged, cutting Iso off.

"See you at the cafeteria later." he said, winking at you before leaving. Iso sent a harsh glare to Phoenix, the audacity for him to wink at you.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Take care, Y/N. Text me after you're done with your classes, okay?"

Iso sighed internally, wishing he could be there for you 24/7.

You nodded shyly before joining the rest of your friends to head to class. "Mhm… you too."

Even though Iso is a notorious class-skipper, up to everyone's surprise, he has been showing up to lectures lately. It's all because he couldn't resist the charm of Y/N's pout.

The thought of being the cause of that disappointed expression wrecks his heart a bit. He would trade his soul if it means seeing that cute smile of yours, and to get complimented by you.

Iso caught up and walked alongside Phoenix, still holding the strawberry-flavored candy you gave him earlier. Phoenix shot him a knowing look. "If you're gonna play pretend, just give up."

"Huh?"

"Are you being for real, lad?" Phoenix nudged Iso's shoulder. "You never look so ‘down bad’ over a person." Iso sighed, finally getting the point.

"Is it too obvious?" Iso replied, popping the candy into his mouth effortlessly.

"Yeah, too obvious. ‘Saw how a love shape starts forming in your eyes as soon as Y/N appears in your sight." Phoenix teased, smirking.

Iso chuckled, the image of adorable you started playing in his mind. Not like you’ll ever leave it anyway.

"Come on, man. You can't blame me. Y/N is too cute to resist."

(A/N): THIS LOOKS RUSHED IM SORRY anyways im thinking of turning badboy!iso into a series but we'll see...

delicate who? | masterlist.

#f6bron #— rumi drabbles . . .#— iso drabbles . . .#li zhao yu #iso x reader #valorant iso x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #iso x y/n

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zaimta · 1 year

Note

Hey. How are you doing? Congrats on the followers. I'm a huge fan. I wanted to put something in for your event. I was hoping to have Ace with the prompt "i’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while." please? I don't know how much detail you would like. But I think it would be cute if they were childhood friends. But whatever idea you want to use it okay with me. It will be great no matter what. Thank you and congrats. <3

zai: i love me a good childhood friends to lovers it itches my brain just right! the actual event was a year ago but imma still write this bc why not lol ps everybody say ty bochi for the fire manga cap

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

growing up together the two of you were basically inseparable. he always found himself by your side, he couldn’t help himself there was something about you. maybe it was the way you never backed down when he argued with you, or the way you cared for luffy and got along with sabo, or definitely how you called him stupid for letting his name define him.

sabo elbowed ace with a small smile on his face “you’re staring at them. again. everyone knows you like them you know you’re so obvious.”

ace stammered over his words, his face quickly turned red as the blush creeped up his neck “im not! i was just lookin out for luffy. you know luffy plays rough and i didn’t want him to injure y/n. yeah that’s it.”

sabo’s grin gets wider and becomes smug “oh so you’re worried about y/n?”

“shut up!” ace yelled feeling embarrassed and with his pipe raised as if he was going to swing.

it’s been years since that conversation. the quartet, unfortunately, became a trio. although the conversation ace had with sabo was years ago he remembered it as if it was yesterday. he’s been crushing on you since you were kids he’s not the shy type but for some reason, you have that effect on him. anytime he tried he always chickened out.

but today was the day he was leaving to sail the world so it was now or never.

“are you sure you don’t wanna join my crew ace? you can be first mate!” luffy smiled widely at his brother. he asked the same question hundreds of times and got the same answer.

ace laughed and smiled “please we both know that i’m the captain and you’re first mate luffy. i’ll see you later yeah? try not to cause too much trouble while i’m gone luffy.”

ace’s gaze landed on you, his eyes visibly softening when he looks into yours “how do you feel about an adventure on the seas y/n?” he extends his hand to you “it’d drive me crazy to be apart from you.“

“what? come on ace you can’t steal my first mate!” luffy protested with his arms crossed.

you raised a brow and smiled at luffy “first mate? i thought ace was your first mate luffy?”

“he’s a captain now so it wouldn’t work get with the program y/n!”

you laughed and gently nudged luffy with your shoulder “im gonna miss you luffy.” ace’s eyes lit up and he smiled like a love-sick fool “y/n..”

you put your hand in his. he pulled you into him, his free arm snaking around your waist “welcome aboard first mate.”

luffy stuck his tongue out at the two of you “traitors!” he then laughed with his usual infectious grin on his face.

“oh great he took the only one with sense.” dadan grumbled and rubbed her temples it was going to be a long few years with no one to keep luffy in check.

as you sailed off with ace you watched as the island became smaller and smaller, he cupped your face in his hands. his touch was gentle yet rough “there’s something about you. you drive me insane always have and you always will.” he leaned closer your lips mere inches apart. he wanted you to close the gap he wanted to see if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

you leaned in and closed the gap, your lips gently molding with his. one of his hands moved down to your hip to pull you closer when you unfortunately had to pull apart for air he bruised his lips against yours and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“i’ve always wanted to kiss you…we’re gonna burn the house down baby just watch.”

#one piece x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x you #portgas ace x you #portgas d. ace x y/n #portgas d. ace x you #portgas d. ace x reader #one piece fluff #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #ace fluff #portgas ace fluff

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instarsandcrime · 2 months

Text

Over the Radiowaves (2/2)

@ripelytoo So imagine me kicking down the door, completely out of breath with my hair partially on fire because hoo boy that took so long and thank you so much for your patience! Writing Vox and Alastor + life stuff got in the way of everything but I finished within the deadline baby! I hope the wait was worth it! We got silly, hurt/comfort, a smidge of emotions and feels, fluff, etc. Plus questionable, slightly less one-sided Radiostatic?

This is a sequel to @rosieknows's own request Under the Weather, so go check out part 1 if you're interested in starting from the beginning!

Quick cw: there is a small bit of mess at the end, though it's not very detailed. But I wanted to give a heads up at the end!

I'm gonna go lie down...in the meantime, thank you for the request and enjoy the fic! 🩷

---

Vox would not call himself a reckless man.

He prided himself on his maturity, his restraint, and a dash of opulence for good measure. All in all, he was the definition of the highest perfection in technology, a one-man revolutionary that never seemed satisfied.

But fuck did he need a vacation.

And that was just the case, glaring at the very screen that not too long ago sang a song that continued to haunt his processors. And the worst part was that he didn’t know why. He couldn’t quite place it, but it bothered him beyond belief.

“Ht’chhzzzt!” Speaking of which. It's not that his vents were irritated by Alastor's flu. It was just some bug– a minor glitch in the system. He was, without a doubt, above such an outdated virus! Clearly the rattling of his exoskeleton was from the malfunctioning air conditioning because holy Here it was fucking freezing. Clearly the excess electricity that rose his core temperature was from a long night’s work. And clearly the tingle that came with it, the static shock that ran from his processors through his wiring…down to his sk-skull…building with electric sparks until–

“Het’chhzzzzt! ET’CHHZZZZT! HET’KSHHHZZZT!” The sound of shattering rained down like knives, luxurious chandelier lamps burst and broken by uncontrolled power. “Eh…heh! HEKT’SCHHZZZT! Guhhh…”

Vox pursed his lips, flicking a shard of glass from his shoulder. Well, maybe he should pay the walking germ fest a visit anyway. Just to rub his good health in that smug prick face. He nodded curtly, ignoring the overwhelming dizziness and cooling fans that sputtered like an old, rusty engine. It was clearly a warning for his overheating mind. But he couldn't not be all there, could he? Because he was fine! Taking a deep breath-- or one that didn't result in a debilitating coughing fit-- he focused on where he wanted to go. Flipping through channels and pathways, he had planned on not looking too desperate.

Which he wasn't, of course.

Maybe in front of the hotel. A few blocks away, even. He could see it now: he'd stroll up to those stupid, gaudy double doors and invite himself in. Make a grand show of the lack of security. Brag about how weak and defenseless The Radio Demon was, and how Vox was clearly superior because machines don't...hheh...cahhh-catch the–

“Hekt’SHHHZZZ’hoo!”

It was around midnight when Alastor returned from his little excursion. Not to say his meeting with Zestiel was difficult, but it was...interrogative. The seven year absence can only boast mystery and intrigue when it remains an intriguing mystery. But now he felt quite silly for stringing one of his oldest friends along-- a little sympathetic, even. After all, the demon faced down on the hotel floor gave him a confusion and frustration that he didn't know was in him.

“Vox?” Alastor craned over the poor soul. Only for him to spring to life, finding balance with a hand to the wall.

“So we meet again, Alastor!” Vox laughed.

“What is happening.” His rival replied flatly.

“Isn't it obvious?”

“Is what obvious.”

“That I won! I beat you! You got sick and I didn't!”

A pause. Alastor looked at the state of the intruder. Then to the radio on his bookshelf, still flickering a striking electric blue. Then crossed the carpet with a sudden smirk on his face.

“I see! Then please, by all means, recount your glorious victory over the poor, defenseless Radio Demon!” He cried, holding a hand to his chest. “I deserve to hear it. All of it.”

“Well look who finally decided to give up and throw in the towel! And after I saved you from freezing face down in the snow!” His rival smirked drunkenly, tugging on his lapels– as well as himself, nearly stumbling into the corner of an armchair.

“A tantalizing sight, my life right in your claws for the taking.” Alastor recalled, catching Vox under the arms by the heel of his cane to push him upright.

“And– and I was the guy who carried you to the tower’s main office without being seen.” He slurred, pointing slightly left of himself. “You better be fuckin’ grateful, by the way. You almost blew my cover! Twice! Seriously, it's like your stupid flu was as disgustingly dramatic as y-yuhh-youhhh...are…! Hup’TSHHHZZT! HUTSCHHZZZZT!”

A battered desk lamp flared in a firework of light before settling back again. The overhead bulbs momentarily shook with a sudden burst of energy. And in the middle of the flickering, flashing mess stood the Tech Overlord, sniffling miserably into a sleeve.

“Truly you are a paragon of grace and wit.” Alastor assured as he strolled towards the bathroom. Leaving Vox to follow him in his delirious, rambling rage.

“And then! And– Hep’shhhzzt! Sdnff!” His body jerked forward, screen glitching wildly just for a moment before resuming the one-man battle that he was definitely winning. "And then I treated you pretty good I think!"

"Well."

"Whatever! I– ihh- It’schhhzzzt! Ughh. Th’ point is that I took care of you! Monitored your temperature, gave you blankets, made you tea. And then you just LEFT! How's that for morality--" Alastor hummed nonchalantly, passing him a downy comforter. "--oh, thanks. I mean come on! I already had like ten different projects I'm working on so the least you could do is..."

The Radio Demon stood, waiting expectantly while his potential patient trailed off. Vox stared down at the gathered blanket in his arms, hoarse voice lowering. "...you're taking care of me."

"Ah, I see your wires have finally uncrossed! Truly a headline for the ages, don't you think?"

"You're taking care of me?"

"Would you rather I show you the door? Because--"

"No!" Vox blurted. Then remembering himself, cleared his throat with a thick sniffle. "No, no, uh. It's. It’s juhhst- huh! HUT’SCHHZZZT! Ughh..." Already overworked vents shuddered with the effort, and his entire frame followed suit as it struggled to adjust. "I just-- I haven't seen you in a while. The, uh, other you."

The silence was heavy, and it smelt of dust and mold stuffed deep in the back of a closet full of unwanted things. Alastor paused. He inhaled. Then exhaled. "Let's make a deal."

At that Vox opened his mouth, stopped by a hand. "Verbally. And one I'm sure we would both prefer."

"...Okay." He exhaled wearily, wobbling to sit by the fireplace. "Lay it on me."

Alastor replied with another contented hum, sitting opposite, Cheshire grin still plastered on his face. "You’ve had the chance to kill me before, but decided instead to spare my fate. As you mentioned quite loudly." Vox’s flushed face spread to the corners of his screen, sinking into the blanket. “And judging by a severe exhaustion not dissimilar to mine, I’m sure that returning to your tower would be a near-Herculean task. So, for your repayment, I will assist you for tonight and tonight only. No strings attached, no loose ends untied. Do you understand?"

The Vee swallowed harshly, stuffing down his pride as far as it could go. “Fine. It’s a deal. You win.”

"Excellent! Now, then." In a snap a flurry of inky creatures circled the two, hammer and nail at the ready. “I believe it’s time to claim my prize. Shall we begin, old pal?"

Alastor expected whinging and moaning. Maybe a little bit of desperation. But instead Vox was eerily silent. Sensors glazed over lying propped up on the headboard of his newly built bed, watching. Waiting. Mind completely and utterly glassed over with fog. Not even a half-witted jab at the old-fashioned mercury thermometer that slipped from between his fangs. Sighing heavily, Alastor poured a spoonful of medicine from a bottle, humming softly to himself as he tipped the rim into his patient’s mouth. And ever so slightly some color seeped into sepia tone. Alastor was sure the second of cognisance was the foul-tasting syrup until a few weak notes echoed back– breaking into occasional coughing fits that rattled the poor man's chest.

“You can't seem to stay quiet, can you?” The Radio Demon snapped, though it had no bite. Closing his eyes, the soft broadcast of a song began to whisper.

“Does this satisfy?” Vox nodded slowly. Alastor swallowed a nauseating pang of relief.

It wasn’t long after that his caretaker was jolted awake, eyes pried open by screeching static and shouting voices. Pushing himself to his hooved feet, each delicate step across the room grew heavier and heavier as the deer demon approached. Through mucky speakers it sounded as if this fever dream was submerged in muck and grime. But between the two of them, the tangled mess of a memory from seven years ago might as well be clear as a spring. The reflection in the water stared back at him, and Alastor couldn’t help but watch. It was like a bad telanovela, and yet he could read every page of the script by heart.

“Listen asshole! You don't get to tell me what to do with my company and how I run it! I make the rules, not you.” The bitter voice crackled painfully behind the monitor.

“I assure you that my ‘rules’ are sound. These flashy entertainment devices and security systems you flaunt are completely and utterly worthless in the face of the exterminations, and yet you claim they bear the freedom and safety to back it up. It’s foolish and irresponsible to half-ass a game if you hold all the pieces.” Alastor muttered, mimicking his younger self that responded in kind. He squeezed a fistful of comforter until it ripped.

“Fuck no! VoxTech was made so sinners can feel safe. Seriously, what is your damage? You hide the fine print just like us, so why the Hell are you throwing a bitch fit about a few white lies?”

“Sinners need an honorable deal, not a gaggle of snake oil salesmen. The Vees are built on false hope, I have the power to actually fulfill my promises. And that, my dear, is the difference.”

“They want an out, I’m giving them an out!”

Alastor shot upright to face the bastard, every twisted feature hemmed by an eerie artificial glow. “If you cannot understand why I despise your nonsense business practices made of flowery language and empty promises, then I r̵̨̞͑͠e̸͉͚͛f̸͈̅ù̵̹s̶͈̅ë̵͇͉́̎ to join your useless little team you absolute–!”

“--Listen asshole! You don’t get to–”

And all too suddenly, Alastor snapped back to the present. The angry burn on his cheeks faded as the same memory played again. And again. Skipping on repeat over and over and over like a useless, broken record.

He stumbled, collapsing back on the edge of the bed. Calm yourself, it's just a nightmare. He'll break out of it eventually. But time passed again. And again. The horrid sting could not reduce itself to a dull itch, finally breaking its pattern when a pathetic whimper passed Vox's lips and– alright, that's enough.

Waking a person from a nightmare was dangerous, doubly so if said subject was a demon– triply so for an Overlord. And although The Radio Demon held far more power and control over his rival, the Vee still had countless amounts of voltage coursing through his veins. Hauling himself to his feet, shaking his previous nerves loose before plucking a snuff box from a high shelf.

Well, he decided, better a sneeze than the electric chair.

Sitting again by Vox’s bedside, Alastor held the powder under the vents that dotted the sides of his patient’s face, watching them shallowly suck in air– taking a small portion with it.

“Hhh..!” The reaction was immediate. The sound of sniffling and hitching replaced the cacophony of his dream, and he twisted with discomfort. Stuck in a torturous loop, unable to sneeze out the irritant. Alastor huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

“Always with the dramatics.” He chided.

“Snffff snff! Ugh! And whose f-fuh-fault is…is thahhhHHH–! Hhhhghh…th-that!” Vox warbled out, airy voice pitching higher and higher. Finally deciding to end his misery, Alastor traced the tip of his claw around his vents with a feather-light touch. Quickly distancing himself, as a final shuddering gasp was his one and only warning before–

“Het’tshhzzzt! H’tshzzzt! ‘Zzzt! Zzt! hhhhHHHH–! …Hekt’SHZZZZHOO!”

A pop, and a firework of electricity branched from his core, erupting from his suit and branching out– which Alastor casually stepped to the side to avoid. “Gesundheit.”

Unfortunately, the blessing was premature. “HUT’TSHZZZOOO! HUP’TSHZZZZZT’hoo…huh-hehhHHHTSHZZZOO!” The ground rumbled with scorch marks from the lightning storm. Somewhere in the hallway, the shattering of a bulb made Alastor’s ears press to his head.

“Do you want to wake the entire hotel?!” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“I cad't hhhheh! helb ihhdt! IT’SCHZZZZTHOO! Heh! Hhh! …hghh…” The chaos began to settle, leaving the cyborg gasping for air as Alastor slapped his hands against his vents. Cringing as a thick fluid brushed his ungloved palms.

“S’rry.” Vox mumbled sheepishly.

“You're ill.” Alastor spat regardless, pulling back in disgust, “If you're going to annoy me, don't take credit for things you didn't do.”

“...Okay?” The sickly demon blinked blearily. He tried to sit up, stopped by the head of a cane to his chest.

“Ah-ah, don’t get up. I'll be back in just a moment.” The other sneered, plucking a tissue from the nearby nightstand and, wordlessly, exited. Ignoring the harsh, obnoxious blow that followed.

It took minutes for Alastor to wash the unidentified liquid from his hands and handle. It took an eternity for Vox to fall back asleep. Maybe he did regret that argument from seven years ago. Maybe not. Either way, he scowled and turned his back to The Radio Demon.

Because just for tonight, Alastor had won. Again. He had been cared for, doted over, and treated with the utmost respect. For the first time in a long time, he had a taste of happiness from an old friend.

And honestly? It was awful.

#snz #ha//zb//in//ho//tel//#a/la/stor #vo/x #snz request #ra//dio//sta//tic #cw: mess

34 notes · View notes

plutoccult · 7 months

Text

FINGER LICKIN’ YEAH WE COOKIN’ UP A SUPER BOWL

pairing: osamu miya x female reader

description: osamu wasn’t a fan of football nor parties. however, it is only you that could convince him to agree to atsumu’s shenanigans.

word count: 4.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: SURPRISE!!! i had intended to write for osamu before, but the idea instead went to another character. i never forgot about my foodie king though! plus, it’s super bowl sunday, so i HAD to put this out in enough time. the idea came last minute, so i was in a bit of a rush, but i managed! sorry if it seems rushed, i truly was trying my best to get this done in time. i also apologize if anyone seems ooc, i was honest to god trying my best. for timeline’s sake, i’d say the twins are 21 in this one shot, so not quite yet to the point where osamu has his own onigiri shop and atsumu is on the japan national team. anyway, happy super bowl sunday, and enjoy! (btw i totally named this after super bowl by stray kids)

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @femme-lune @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld

taglist form here

osamu wasn’t thrilled when his twin atsumu sprung the idea of having a super bowl party on him out of nowhere.

“they do it in america! it’s huge there!” his twin argued, detailing everything he knows about the tradition. sure, they do air the event in japan, but what was the point? an excuse to eat and drink? hangout with their buddies from both the past and present? actually, no. osamu figured out atsumu’s motive quickly; it was an excuse for osamu to cook a bunch of food.

there was no denying atsumu was clueless in the kitchen. if it were up to him to cook anything more complex than eggs and toast, he’d burn the whole place down. osamu was better off handling majority of anything food related. his brother was lucky he enjoyed the art of cooking.

“i’m not dealing with a stupid party, tsumu.” osamu crossed his arms in protest. there was no way he was going to deal with an inevitable mess. having to cook all the food and clean up the mess after? nope, no way. he refused to do it alone. luckily, his twin could figure that out quickly.

“ah, ah, ah. i knew you’d say that.” atsumu smirked. “y/n already told me she’d help you make the food.”

the mention of your name immediately perked up osamu. best friends since high school, it was blatantly obvious you had captured the shyer twin from the start, although—like with everyone else—he could easily assume you were more drawn to atsumu as he was always so unashamedly outspoken. everyone talked to atsumu more, but even so, you always treated the twins equally. mayhaps that is why he longed for you so much.

“y/n did?” osamu asked.

“and she’s bringing cake.” his brother added.

a woman after his own heart, really, and a foodie just like osamu. you always joked about opening a bakery next door once he finally opened up the onigiri shop he dreamed of. the goal was sometime next year, so maybe catering this party would be good practice. plus, it was a good excuse to be close to you like osamu craved.

“she is?” he questioned further. if his brother wasn’t kidding around, then maybe he’d feel more inclined to agree.

“you’re not gonna say no, right?” atsumu teased. osamu grunted in response, too stubborn to say anything, which atsumu recognized. it is only his twin who can easily detect his weakness; you.

“you’re such a sucker, osamu.” he chuckled. even if osamu were a sucker for you, he wouldn’t want to be one for anyone else. and it’s not like he’s totally clueless. he’d mess with his twin somehow.

“i’ll do it…“ osamu said before stating his only condition. “if you clean up the place afterwards.”

“what?!” atsumu gawked.

“it’s only fair, right?” osamu shrugged. two can play at that game. “i cook, you clean.”

unfortunately, atsumu had no choice but to suck it up. truth be told, he orchestrated you assisting with food preparations for the sake of getting you and osamu together alone. if he says no now, then his little secret wingman plan would be a waste, so atsumu had to accept his fate.

“pft, ass.” he huffed. atsumu should’ve known better than to try playing games with his brother, knowing he could easily match his game.

“just be lucky i agreed to your idiocy.” osamu scoffed.

“only because y/n is helping!” atsumu whined. while that may be true, osamu would probably never hear the end of it if he said no whether you were involved or not.

“did i hear only onigiri on the menu?” osamu joked, knowing that would irritate his twin to no end.

“osamu!”

truth be told, he couldn’t wait for sunday now.

•••

over the next few days, osamu had kept in almost constant communication with you over text discussing food options for the party. his signature onigiri was a must despite atsumu’s protest, but other options were in store thanks to your combined brainstorming. osamu couldn’t help but ask what kind of cake you’d bring, and was ultimately disappointed when you said it was a surprise with many winky emojis involved.

when sunday finally rolled around, osamu was more energized than usual. whether that be from excitement or nerves, who knew? atsumu’s plan was going in motion quite nicely and you hadn’t even arrived yet. he truly felt like a genius assisting in his brother’s quest for love.

osamu paced back and forth around the apartment in anticipation for your arrival. the kitchen was spotless, plus the fridge and cabinets were filled to the brim with everything needed for the party. on top of that, he put atsumu up to the task of decorating the place. knowing who would have to deal with cleaning up later was the greatest part of all.

once a knock on the door emerged, the two twins battled over who got to open the door, osamu ultimately losing as his brother elbowed him in the stomach and made a run for it. if there were a best sibling award, it was clear who wouldn’t win it.

“hello, miya twins! i’ve arrived!” you said upon entering the door, your arms occupied with bags, hopefully full of sweet treats.

“hey, y/n.” atsumu greeted you, beating osamu to it as he was still recovering from what occurred just moments ago.

you—already knowing your way around the place—set your bags down on the counter before instructing that they put its contents in the fridge as soon as possible. atsumu obliged despite wondering how he would play tetris with the fridge. but before he could figure out that puzzle, he received a quick hug from you as that was your typical greeting for the twins.

“y/n?” you turn around and see osamu standing a few feet away. he wanted to curse his brother for getting to say hi to you first, but once he saw that smile on your face, all anger towards atsumu faded away in an instant.

“ah, there you are!” you exclaim, rushing towards osamu and welcoming him with a big hug, one that lasted longer than the one you shared with atsumu. you held him tight, almost squeezing the life out of him as you pulled him from side to side. it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe, osamu was just happy to feel so welcomed by you.

“ready to cook up a super bowl?” you ask once you finally allowed osamu the ability to breathe. “i already made desserts in advance, so i can help with what you’ve got planned.”

“i could’ve helped with that…” osamu pouted. any more excuse to be around you was all he wanted, really. plus, he was curious to know your baking secrets. he always figured you were born a master.

“but that would ruin the surprise, silly.” you poke his arm. if it were his stomach, he might have folded over. thank god you were gentle.

as much as you wanted your desserts to remain a surprise until the party started, atsumu had to immediately ruin the fun for you. “there’s a cake shaped like a football.”

“atsumu!” you scold him. “ever heard of surprises, or has your brain become mush from too many volleyballs to the head?”

“yeah, yeah.” atsumu rolled his eyes. “i’ll leave you two to get started with everything. i trust you not to burn the place down.”

“only you would do that, tsumu.” you say. the way you teased atsumu was something osamu always loved about you. you were just as relentless as him, truly. besides, someone else besides osamu had to humble the ever-so-bold twin.

“exactly. later!” atsumu said before he left you and osamu alone in the kitchen.

osamu let out a sigh the moment his brother left the room. you immediately take notice, assuming he didn’t want to be doing this for atsumu. you hoped at the very least he enjoyed your presence today.

“i take it you’re doing all this against your will?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you.

“not exactly…” osamu replied.

“well, i couldn’t really say no to him, so…” you shy away from the truth. it would be embarrassing if you were to admit to osamu why you agreed to this, but he was painfully oblivious, assuming it was all for his brother’s sake. not because you wanted to spend time with him and only him. it seemed you were both hiding your intentions.

“yeah, of course.” osamu frowned. it’s atsumu we’re talking about.

tension quickly filled the room. you sense the uncomfortable vibe instantly, wondering if you said something wrong. was it really something you said? you didn’t seem to think so. maybe getting things started in the kitchen for the party will help.

“shall we get started?” you ask hesitantly. “i was thinking we shape the onigiri into footballs. ya know, to fit the theme.”

osamu chuckled at your idea. at least you could see him smile now. he seemed to find it cute, but also funny how you wanted to make as many items on the menu football shaped as possible.

“i could try that.” he said, trying to hold back any more laughter. if osamu were to laugh any more, he was afraid you’d think he was making fun of your idea.

“cool, i’ll get started on the wings while you get started on that.” you say without skipping a beat, immediately grabbing ingredients like you knew this kitchen as if it were your own.

osamu didn’t seem to mind it this way with you around. he’d spend the whole day in the kitchen with you, even if all you did was sit on the counter and watch while he did all the work. but that’s not who you are, you refused to leave him to do everything. most importantly, you refused to let him feel alone.

soon enough, the kitchen grew quiet, the sounds of timers beeping and water running from the sink on occasion serving as background noise. you and osamu worked together in perfect harmony, like a well oiled machine. your chemistry oozed in the room and neither of you had to say a word to each other. it was easy for you two to figure out who did what most effiently. osamu could never do this with anyone else this way, you feeling the same way, although those thoughts remained unspoken.

the lack of chatter made atsumu worried. he had been trying to eavesdrop while he was supposed to be decorating, but found it to be too quiet for his liking. as atsumu tried to lean a little more, hoping to hear something worthwhile, he ended up tripping over an extension cord, blowing his cover as he tripped right into the kitchen.

atsumu’s sudden crash startled the both of you, osamu almost dropping the pot in his hands and you almost slicing your finger as you chopped an onion.

“atsumu!” you yell as you set your knife down. atsumu was lucky you didn’t decide to threateningly wave it around right now. “the hell are you doing?!”

“it got quiet, so i was getting worried…” he answered, slowly getting back to his feet as he feared for his life. would atsumu rather face his brother’s wrath or your wrath? both of you together may be the worst combination of all, really.

“what, worried that we disappeared and left you with all this food to cook?” you cross your arms. “osamu said you were decorating, and this doesn’t look like decorating to me.”

“i was taking a break?” atsumu shrugged. that was the worst answer in the world, even he could admit that.

“just go.” osamu let out a groan. it was bad enough that atsumu used you as a way to persuade him to cook for the party, but to eavesdrop on what you two were doing? what was he trying at here? as much as osamu was curious to know, he just wanted to get back to cooking with you without any worries.

“fine…” atsumu sighed, going back to the dreadful duty of decorating all by his lonesome. the sacrifices he’s made for the sake of his brother and the girl he’s loved for years. how tragic… not.

once atsumu left, you burst into laughter. osamu furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “what’s so funny?”

“oh, just the look on his face when he got caught.” you giggle.

“yeah…” he said. it was funny, osamu could admit that, but he feared that his twin had devious plans up his sleeve. who knows if he’ll make it through the end of the day with some sort of dignity left?

•••

hours later, atsumu’s teammates from the black jackals arrived for the party. osamu was acquainted with some of them—most definitely more than acquainted with a certain pipsqueak named shoyo hinata—but he was more looking forward to seeing some of his teammates from high school, especially aran and kita. he would talk to suna, but the poor guy looked like he wanted to leave more than anything.

you seemed quite occupied at the moment, mostly due to bokuto talking your ear off about how delicious the cookies you made were. you were more than aware of his loud personality, but seeing it up close was far different than just watching him play on the court. at least you knew it wasn’t for show during matches.

osamu considered being your knight in shining armor by finding an excuse to steal you away, but he feared facing the embarrassment of his friends who wouldn’t hesitate to tease him. even if you looked at him with pleading eyes, he still hesitated. if only osamu had the guts to be a little brave for once, not standing in the shadows.

“samu…” atsumu called for him. osamu turned his attention away from watching you to see what his brother wanted, although a little annoyed.

“hm?”

“we’re out of rice. can you make more?” he asked.

osamu blinked a few times, unsure if he actually heard that correctly. “we’re… out?”

“kita ate it all up.” atsumu said.

“really?” osamu groaned. he didn’t even want to think of the logistics of his former captain eating so much rice so quickly. “grow your own rice or something, man.”

“maybe i will…” kita replied calmly, now pondering over the thought of becoming a rice farmer. it didn’t seem so bad, actually. unfortunately, the rice couldn’t just grow and magically appear already cooked. osamu wished it worked that way.

“i’ll go make more.” osamu sighed. “call for me when it’s halftime.”

once he left to head to the kitchen, you watched as he walked away, tempted to follow. maybe if you found an excuse to leave the room, like go get a drink or go to the bathroom or something. that oughta work, right?

“hey, bokuto?” you stop him mid sentence as he was still going on about your baking. “i gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be back, okay?”

“don’t forget to give me your cookie recipe!” bokuto exclaimed as you left the living room.

atsumu raised an eyebrow upon your sudden exit, a smirk creeping up on his face soon following once he put the pieces together. “she’s not going to the bathroom…”

you find osamu already cooking, the rice cooker at work while he prepared more rice to be cooked just incase. he’d rather be safe than sorry now. osamu didn’t notice you walk in at first, but your presence became apparent soon enough once you tapped him on the shoulder.

“man, you scared me.” he chuckled, you also sharing a laugh with him. “you don’t have to help me. i’ve got this.”

“what, want some practice for when you finally open up that restaurant?” you question. osamu furrowed his eyebrows, asking “huh?” until you explained what you meant. “onigiri miya. i’ve been waiting.”

“oh, right…” osamu said, almost forgetting that little dream of his. “that.”

“well, when is it finally gonna happen?” you ask. he had talked about it for so long, and you always waited for the day it’d finally come to fruition. you probably believed in him more than he’s ever believed in himself, honestly.

“mmm, i don’t know.” he replied shyly. “next year would be nice, but there’s so many things to think about.”

“wait, really? why didn’t you tell me?!” you gasp, shocked he’d hide such an important detail from you.

“it’s just, uh, kinda scary when you admit it out loud.” osamu said. his dream of opening up his own restaurant was as scary as trying to admit the truth of his feelings. dreaming is one thing, but trying to make it a reality was another.

“samu, you know you can do it! i’ve always believed in you!” you admit, taking osamu by surprise despite how confident you always spoke about him.

“you have?”

“yes!” you say without hesitation. “from the day i met you.”

“wow, thank you…” osamu blushed. you get lost in each other’s eyes, although osamu wondered if it’s just in his imagination that you’re staring at him so intently. suddenly, the moment was ruined.

“hey, do you smell something burning?” you question as you try to sniff out the strange smell. osamu figured it out immediately, knowing it was the rice everyone was waiting on.

“the rice!” he exclaimed, rushing to the rice cooker. “i put the rice cooker on high so it’d get done faster…”

“aw, no!” you say. “is it salvageable?”

“no…” osamu sighed, looking down at the damage. “if anything, it’s a sign i shouldn’t have my own restaurant.”

to him, this was stupid. if he doesn’t do everything perfectly, then what’s the point? it seemed to silly to immediately think the worst, that this was a sign of imminent failure. osamu was good at keeping that competitive perfectionist part of him hidden to most, always making it seem like he just gets everything right the first time, but only you can see that he has flaws. at the end of the day, you continue to be his weakness, but that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel strong.

“hey, hey, hey.” you grab his arm, a jolt coming from osamu by your sudden touch. “you overcook rice one time and all of the sudden your dream is dead? chefs mess up all the time. you’re human, you know. i think you’ve forgotten that.”

“but—”

“i mean, come on. you think i just magically knew how to make a cake one day?” you ask jokingly. even if you meant for the question to be a silly one, osamu took it quite literally.

“honestly? yeah. the first time you brought cake to school for me and sumu’s birthday was the best thing i ever tasted.” he said, recalling your first year of high school together. you hadn’t been friends with the twins for that long at that point, but you decided to surprise them with a cake for their birthday as it fell on a school day. like osamu said, it was the best thing he ever tasted. he felt like he found his future wife in that moment.

“samu, i spent all night making like five different cakes cause i kept messing them up.” you confess. it was a secret you carried for years, shocked you never said anything before, but only just now having the guts to say it. even so, osamu couldn’t believe it to be true. he always swore your skills came to you like second nature. how come he never knew before? you were very good at hiding things, it seemed.

“you did? why?” he asked.

“because…” you hesitate. might as well fess up, you suppose. “i really wanted you to like it.”

“me and tsumu?” osamu questioned. what an idiot.

you shake your head, almost tempted to laugh over how blind he was to what you were trying to say. part of you was a little frustrated, but you wouldn’t let that get to the best of you. “you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“i guess i am…” he replied, unsure of what else to say.

you let out a sigh. should you say it? the whole truth? you didn’t know it, but you were in the same boat as osamu. you did this for each other without even realizing it. it is you, however, who will be brave enough to admit such a truth. no going back now after you’ve already admitted so much.

“i only agreed to helping with this party because atsumu knew i wanted an excuse to be close to you.” you tell him, looking away. osamu swore you looked ashamed to say those words out loud, but even so, the truth shocked him to the very core.

“he… what?”

when you grant yourself the guts to look him in the eye once more, the look on his face made you think you shouldn’t have said anything. but osamu wanted to scream, scream about how long he liked you and how he never thought he’d see this day. he didn’t know if the universe planted the seeds for this very moment, but he couldn’t let it slip away. not when you believed in him like it was breathing.

“nothing. don’t worry about it.” you shake your head. “i’ll help you restart the rice. hungry people waiting.”

“no.” osamu stopped you. you freeze in your tracks, waiting for what else he had to say. “forget the rice.”

“huh—”

“why do you think i told tsumu i’d help with this party?” he asked. you’re at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. it is usually you who stood tall, but osamu took your place, taking charge for the sake of making sure you knew the truth. “i said i would because he told me you were coming here. he knew you were the only thing that’d get me to say yes. called me a sucker and everything.”

your cheeks flush, a smile creeping up on your face as the realization of osamu’s mutuals feelings hit you. “guess i’m a sucker too.”

osamu let out a sigh of relief, overcome with joy as he couldn’t control his grin. with that look on your face, he almost wanted to kiss you right then and there. should he kiss you right now? no, osamu should ask permission first. couldn’t be too confident, right? or were you trying to say something with your eyes? god, osamu didn’t have a clue on what to do.

“can you two please just kiss already so i can get back to the party?”

you and osamu share a gasp. it was atsumu, no doubt about it. that bitch, you both think to yourselves. was he eavesdropping on that whole conservation? pause. now they both knew atsumu did all of this on purpose. he had a lot of explaining to do, that’s for sure.

without having to speak a word, you and osamu find atsumu in the hallway, both tugging him by his shirt and pulling him to the ground. your combined anger undoubtedly scared the shit out of him.

“you!” you grab the collar of atsumu’s shirt. “you set this all up!”

“i bet you don’t even like football!” osamu yelled.

“yeah!” you say in agreement without thinking.

“hey, i’m innocent, your honor! innocent!” atsumu raised his hands up in the air, squeezing his eyes shut as he anticipated one of you to start hitting him.

“no wonder you agreed to clean if i cooked!” osamu exclaimed.

“he agreed to clean?!“ you loudly gasp. funnily enough, that was the most shocking thing you’ve heard all day.

“listen to me, okay?!” atsumu forced your hand away from his collar. you take a step back and give him the chance to speak, although you were more than prepared to start swinging if need be. “i just really wanted you two to stop being wusses about your feelings. now you both know, all thanks to me.”

you and osamu soften up. even if it seemed a tad bit manipulative, neither of you could deny that it was actually kind of… sweet? all that cooking was a pain in the ass, but it brought you together and pushed you to admit your truths.

“i really do like you, osamu.” you say, looking into osamu’s eyes, not wavering for a second. there was no need for either of you to hide anymore. “since the day we met.”

“me too.” osamu replied, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen plastered on his face.

“i sense a super emotional moment—” atsumu tried to say in the midst of his escape attempt. however, you grab him by the wrist, almost pulling his arm by his socket. “ow!”

“come here.” you pull him in for a hug, osamu too, practically squeezing the two to death. “you’re a pain, but thank you, atsumu.”

“can i go now?” he asked, trying his best to writhe out of your grasp. you were strong, atsumu couldn’t deny that.

“yeah, yeah. get outta here.” you scoff as you let him free.

atsumu mumbled some words over how it was “about damn time” on his way out, which sent you and osamu into a fit of giggles. once the laughter died down, reality set in. now both you knew that you liked each other, so what now? what else was there to do?

“so…”

“so..?”

“you think they’re all still waiting on that rice?” you ask awkwardly.

that was the last thing osamu cared about in this moment, truly. he waited so long for this, never thinking there ever was a chance. dare he ask you to pinch him would seem silly now. all he wanted to do now was finally kiss you without hesitating.

“oh, screw the rice.” osamu said, grabbing your hand as he pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. your hand that clasped his rested over his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your touch. has his heart always beat this fast in your presence for all this time, you couldn’t help but wonder. it was safe to say no one was getting their rice now, but neither of you gave a damn.

meanwhile, in the living room, atsumu finally returned, although with an irritated look on his face. he sat down in between bokuto and hinata, who were both curious about the food.

“hey, how’s the rice going—” hinata began to ask before being quickly cut off by atsumu.

“just watch the stupid game.”

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