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joosthead · 4 months ago

Text

skin || j.k. x f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ joost wants to make a song.

₊˚⊹⋆ for @spentandpent’s contest 😅🩷 (2 months late)

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader. notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 10.3k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (established relationship, consensual audio recording during sex, f!receiving oral, mirror, ruined orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, vibrator, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, creampie), kind of really porny i can't lie. pwp. crying both out of (momentary) sadness and because cumming 🩷 reader🤝being total crybabies🤝juno

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “skin” by mac miller, “p power” by gunna

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator. go big or go home right 🩷 as always @howisjoostfanfictionforfree my partner in filth 🩷 @spentandpent for infecting me w the overstim brainworms 🩷 and lovely @xiaoflan for listening to me complain about this fic ! 😆🩷 i love and appreciate you all 🩷 the art for the header is by one of my amazing best friends <3

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

“Are you ready, mijn schat?” Joost asks in a soft voice, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Ready as I'll ever be, Joosti.”

One of his nicest microphones is set up on your bedside table, wires crossing every which way, his laptop on the ground and hooked up to it.

This was an idea that came about spontaneously, as most things regarding Joost come about; on the train home together, sharing his wired earphones with each other and listening to your playlist of liked songs when Skin by Mac Miller came on. His ears perked up and his eyes brightened at the first few seconds, and you knew you were in for it.

There’s a woman in the first few seconds—she sounds like she’s having a positively great time, mewling softly, panting in a way that sounds almost like you when Joost is fucking you good. This was on your playlist?!?! You couldn’t fathom a situation where you’d listen to this in public, but here you were, hearing it all as you watched Joost and his mouth drop open a bit.

Your cheeks warmed and he poked you in the side—“Oh my god,” he said, taking your hand and shaking it. “You know what this means, right?” You shook your head no though you knew the answer—”Our turn!!!!!” He said it so loud that an old lady beside you gave him a dirty look, and he just smiled at her. “Can we? Can we?”

“Joost.”

“I just want to hear what it’s like—if I made a song and your beautiful voice was in the background like this or you were my little producer tag.”

“Very creative,” you laughed, sarcastic. Secretly…you two aren’t exactly public about your relationship. He would post about your anniversaries, your birthday, Valentine’s Day, your vacations; they know you exist, and that he has a long-term girlfriend, but you were so private you were almost elusive. “You want my moan in the back of your song?”

Something so…obvious under his belt. Something so loud. It was unlike you, and you knew it would never be released, at least not in the raw form he’d likely want it to be in, but it was still something. Something that made your stomach turn in that way that felt good and not scary, even with how rarely you were in the public eye.

You existed in the backgrounds of Joost, Appie, Alanis, Stuntje’s Instagram stories; you existed as a tag of a username, a pixelated and blurred out face in Joost’s photo dumps to protect your privacy. You exist out of the spotlight, in the background, not as the beat of his song, but you figure—it is only a matter of time until you join him in the sun.

“Who better than you? I want you everywhere, schat. Your moan will become my trademark,” he reasons, and as always—master of persuasion, at least with you. “One time. And it’ll just be between us, okay? Or mostly for me, I love hearing you.”

You decided in a quick second that you’d do it—all Joost has ever done is protect you, and even with your easily overthinking mind, this sounds fun as all hell to the little devil in your mind that wants everyone to know that he’s yours, you're his. No one else’s. Being possessive doesn’t come naturally in any other part of your life other than Joost.

“Okay,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder, holding his hand in yours. “Let’s do it, Joosti.”

“Wahhh—I love you!!!” Joost exclaimed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and going back to happily looking out the window.

“Mijn meisje,” he says softly, and it makes your stomach turn, the smooth glide of his voice as you lie back onto your pillows. You imagine how it’ll sound in the mp3 file. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, shaking your head. “We would’ve had sex anyway—why not make something of it?”

“It’s a big deal to me.”

You nod, “I can imagine.” Joost fiddles with a dial on the side of the microphone, presses a button somewhere else, tidies the wires. “What do you think it’ll sound like?”

Joost snickers a little to himself before starting— “Agh! Joost! Fuck me harder!” he whines, high pitched and teasing. “Urgh, Joosti, you’re so huge inside of me!”

“I do not fucking sound like that,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to his barking laughter. “Schat, you’re so tight, I think I’ll cum in three seconds!”

“Hey!” Joost says, laughing as he leans to you for a kiss. “Okay, it might be the truth but I think it’ll sound good. As long as it’s you, we should win a Dutch Grammy for this.”

Outside the window, it’s rainy; the roof is pelted with the droplets of water of an autumn in Amsterdam, loud and incessant and comforting. Your room in this old house is humid with the moisture, but you’re sure it’s mostly just the two of you and your warmth making it feel so stuffy.

“We haven’t even made it yet and you want a Grammy?”

“Why not? I know we’ll get one, don't doubt us,” he grins, slinking off the bed and crouching in front of his computer. Joost’s customary wired earphones are plugged into it and he places a bud in his ear. “Mic check, 1, 2, 3,” he says, Joost Klein style, the sound waves appearing on the screen. “This issssss me and my baby’s recording session number one—“

“Number 1? The only one, Joost.”

“Okay, okay. Recording 1 of 1. Our ears only.” Pausing a little, Joost gets that expression on his face that lets you know he’s about to say something strange and he does: “Do you think we can make ASMR mouth sounds from this? Dutch kissing ASMR or something?”

“I think we can make more than mouth sounds when it comes down to it.”

Joost laughs, lifting his computer and placing it on the corner of the table behind the mic; gets up close to it, whispering and tapping on the wood of your bedside table like the people in the ASMR videos you both watch at his behest before bed, “Explain to them what we are going to do, schat,” you laugh and he shushes you, “This is very serious work, we have to be quiet, shhhh.”

“Uhm…” you say quietly, stifling back a snicker as you get close to the mic from the side. “We’re going to record us fucking—“

“Bad word, schat,” Joost whispers, shaking his head at you disappointedly, “Think about the advertisers.”

Tapping on the metal body of the microphone, you roll your eyes and start again, “We’re going to have s-word—“

“That’s better.”

“And record the sound from it so Joosti can put it in a song,” you whisper and he nods, mouthing, “Good job!” and giving a thumbs up before he brushes aside your hair to put the other half of his wired earphones in your ear.

Immediately, you’re met with the sounds of your shared soft breathing and Joost’s hollow tippy taps on the base of the mic. When he goes quiet, the pitter patter of the raindrops upon your roof are loud enough to hear clearly. “I turned up the sensitivity so we don’t have to move it around while we’re recording,” he says, and you nod.

“I can hear that.” Every single sound and movement you make for the coming hours will be captured on this little waveform. Your voice echoes back to you in your ears, and you scrunch up your face. “I hate my voice.”

“I love your voice, mijn schat,” he says, getting on the bed in front of you. “Sounds even better when you’re saying my name.” Smiling at him, you settle back against your pillows in your prettiest pajama set, a camisole and a pair of loose shorts, both printed with small blue flowers all over. Joost takes the ribbed fabric of your shorts between his fingers, tickling your thigh, “This one is my favorite one.”

“Every one is your favorite one,” you counter as you open your legs for Joost to sit between.

“As long as you are wearing it, schat—of course,” Joost says, sighing wistfully as he takes the earphones out from both your ears and drapes them on the nightstand. “Are you sure you don’t want to film? You’re so pretty.”

You roll your eyes as he laughs—it was definitely a topic of conversation after the fact, recording video of it like you have a few times before, just isolating the sound after. You argued that the sound from a real microphone would be better, and he argued, “Why not both?”

You shut it down, telling him that your room would just become your own personal porn studio if he did both and would never go back to normal, and he died of laughter as the old lady on the train gave you a shocked look and moved away.

No filming. At least not today.

“Do you want your song, or do you want a video?”

“That is an extremely hard decision, baby.”

“Make it before I make it for you.”

“I want my song,” Joost says, simply and finally, and you nod.

“You’ll get your song.”

Joost lies down on top of you and the weight is comfortable as he holds himself up with one hand and cups your face in the other.

He hasn’t shaved in a few days, his stubble scratchy against your chin as he comes forward and kisses you, soft lips against yours, his body warm and heavy and already grinding his crotch against your center as he slides his hand up your side, bringing up the hem of your camisole.

You’re hyperfocusing on all the sounds; you’re both quieter than normal, just the smack of your lips against each others, the licking of his tongue into your mouth; the sound of fabric against fabric as he grinds his hips into yours and groans, half-hard already; the shifting of Joost lifting your tank top and exposing your tits to his dilating blue eyes, getting back up off you on his knees.

Joost runs his knuckles down the curve of your breast and over to the other, making your nipples pebble in the already cooling air, your muscles jumping and leaping with how sensitive you are. “How cute,” he murmurs, and your cheeks burn. There’s something different about him today—if you think about it, if you were a music artist and your girlfriend let you record audio of how good the sex is, you’d be cocky too.

The confidence looks good on him, a small smirk on his lips as you gaze up at him through your eyelashes and take off your shirt completely, tossing it to the side and lying back again.

Joost tugs on your shorts and you shimmy them down as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, the sensation tying a knot in your stomach with want for him. “Why aren’t you taking off your clothes?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as he lies atop you again.

“Just want to try something,” he says, placing a kiss between your breasts before he moves over to your nipple, taking it in his mouth and kneading the other breast in his hand.

Grazing it lightly with his teeth, you let out a small hiss at the sensation before he closes his lips around it and sucks; your mouth drops open watching him as he does it, intent and content with his place on you. You just got him back after a month and a half away in Berlin working on music nonstop—you have an inkling that you both feel like this is where he belongs.

For a while, you both lie there as he mindlessly suckles at your tits, as you play with his hair and pretend like there isn’t a pool in your panties waiting to be addressed further than this—you don’t want to rush him. “Art can’t be rushed,” or whatever he says when he’s too busy editing visuals or tweaking his tracks in progress.

Stifling back a sigh, you tug at the short hair on the nape of his neck, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak of your nipple. A tiny little mewl lets itself out of your mouth as he laps at it. Pulling back with a pop, nipping at the skin next to it—“Dude…” he starts. “You’re being… so quiet. Is someone a little shy, schat?” Joost grins, kissing you.

You furrow your brows. You are but you’re not going to get called out by the most outgoing person you know like this. “No, I’m not.”

“I think you are, you haven’t said a word.”

“I’m not,” you insist, smiling once you realize that you have the perfect comeback. “You’re just not doing enough to make me say anything.”

Joost’s entire face changes, falling completely flat with his eyes narrowed at you and you grin. “Oh, I haven’t done enough? Is that what you said, lieverd?”

“I don’t wanna say it’s not enough. But definitely not enough to give you your Dutch Grammy award-winning sound bite. The pace you're moving, we’ll get a participation trophy at best.”

“I’m not doing enough—I am lying on your tummy letting you berate me while I suck your boobs, don’t think I forgot about the last month!!!” he exclaims, voice rough and accusatory and silly, smile so wide as he jabs his finger in your face. “Don’t think I forgot!!!”

“You’re still on that?” you laugh, squishing his cheeks, getting his hair out of his eyes.

“Duh,” he grumbles. “It’s half the reason why I wanted to do this.”

“Forgive me, then.”

There’s been no time for you to call or Facetime him in this past month; only texting and one-sided voice messages from Joost pleading for you to send him a voice memo back but you’ve refused, either willingly or unwillingly. You’ve been so tired, your voice and energy all going to talking to clients and people in real life that you just couldn’t muster the strength to send him back any after a long day—Joost couldn’t call for long either, too occupied with the final touches on the album.

He asked you one night, sleepy voice rasping about how he just wanted to hear you, and he sounded so hot—you texted back that you couldn’t sound sexy and all he said was that he didn’t care if you sounded sexy. He just wanted you.

Still, you couldn’t let it happen.

Joost whined all the way up until his train home got to the station; all the way home in the car as you drove him and asked about his work; all the way up to now, pouting with his prickly chin on your bare chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

“If that isn’t enough, how far can I go to get my audio clip, then?” Joost asks.

The both of you are competitive as can be with each other.

So long ago, you bet him he couldn’t make you cum just from internal stimulation alone—he proved you wrong and then some. He bet you last year (and every year before that you’ve been together) that he could last all of November not cumming—you manage to prove him wrong anywhere from 2-5 days before his birthday on the 10th. Everything is a competition, everything is a game for you two, that’s what makes the relationship so fun.

If you give Joost an inch, he’ll take a mile, and you know that better than anyone.

“As far as you think it takes, Joosti.”

Wordlessly, he gets up off from you and sits on the side of the bed facing the wall, in front of the mirror that’s there now—obtained at a swap meet somewhere in the city and hauled back by you both; standing against your wall, the top rounded in an arch, used mostly for outfit checks and Joost to try on a million different clothing pieces before he decides on things he wears all the time.

“Sit between my legs, baby.”

“Why should I do that for you?”

“Because I want you to do it for me,” he says, looking back at you and patting his lap. “Here. Sit down or none of this will happen.”

Usually, Joost is never so commanding—he’d rather ask you, sweetly and nicely to please do something for him. There isn’t a demanding bone in his body. And yet…

You take the seat between his legs and look at yourself as he hooks his fingers in the white and lacy waistband of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, down your calves. His lips ghost over the nape of your neck as he watches you in the mirror—Joost is always intense, always strong-willed, but it’s as if he’s come back a changed man.

“I want you to watch me do enough.”

He hooks his hand under your right knee; you let him bring your leg up and drape it over his, spread wider than you’re used to. The same is done to the other leg; if you tried to close them, you’d be unable to.

“I’ll get those sounds out of you if it kills me, lieverd.”

The cotton of his shorts, Tears as always; your shared necklaces resting on the chest hair that pokes out of the neckline of his wifebeater—they rub against your backside as you adjust your position on him, Joost’s warm and clothed body making your naked skin feel piping hot.

He places his hands on your inner thighs, squeezing lightly. There is the feel; of his rough fingertips gliding against your silky skin, dancing across the jumpy nerves of the junction between your leg and the beginnings of the most sensitive parts of you.

“Do you know how hard it was for me not to hear your voice for so long, lieverd?”

With his gentle hands, Joost spreads you open, exposing the most private part of you to both of your eyes, his chin hooked on your shoulder and looking down directly at it. You almost shrink into yourself, bringing you closer to his chest against your back, rising and falling steadily. In contrast, your breathing is so erratic, you feel as if your lungs might tire.

The microphone will pick up your labored breathing, as much as you’re trying not to make a single sound; the mirror reflects your furrowed brow back at you as he dips his fingers inside, light and gentle, bringing the wetness back up to circle your clit slowly.

“Mooi,” Joost murmurs, gazing intensely down at your form in his hands, putty in and between his fingers. “Look at you, hm?”

You’ve done this so many times—watched as he’s fucked you, in the mirror or when you watch your bodies meeting, over and over again when he fucks into you, cock reaching your deepest parts. But today is something different, you can’t tell why, but it brings hot heat to your chest and cheeks, to see it so clearly.

You can’t deny it—it’s you in that mirror, it’s you with your legs spread for him, it’s you.

It’s Joost behind you, a mess of blonde hair, no glasses on today, his rough chin against your shoulder as he pets you slowly. 1982 exposing you, 1983 doing the rest of the work.

“Als een mooie bloem, mijn lief,” he murmurs, two fingers spreading your lips, another rubbing your clit so gingerly you want to swear at him to go faster, harder, but you know he’ll just do the opposite of your wishes in this mood he’s in.

“A flower?” you breathe out, and Joost smiles at you in the reflection. Still though, you know your words aren’t what he wants at the moment.

“Pretty flower,” he says, and the smile is gone.

The sound—the sound of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, the wetness from your pussy all he needs to do so, not spit or lube or anything else. Just the slickness of the back and forth of his hands on you.

The rain beats down on your roof, louder now, the backdrop for those filthy sounds coming from you. “You’re still so quiet, I think the mic will capture the rain more than you,” he mumbles into your neck, kissing and nipping at it. ”The quieter you are, the longer we have to do this.”

“Is that really an issue?” you say, labored through the consistent circles of your clit. You turn away, looking at the side of his face—“Ah, my god,” you whisper, moaning softly as he brings his hand up to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and kneading your breast.

“Not really, but I question how much you can take.”

“I can take a lot, you know that.”

“If you can take a lot—why are you looking away?”

He moves your chin gently so you're looking at yourself in the mirror again, and he’s looking at you so intently, pupils so blown out you'd almost think his irises were black. You look down at your pussy to avoid how burning his gaze is; watch as he pets at your entrance, and slides his two middle fingers inside, the stretch warm and all you’ve needed the past several minutes.

Still you hold it back, chomping down on your bottom lip not to let any sound close to a real moan out—you’ve made the rules for yourself: not loud enough to be usable, the least amount of sounds possible, and the biggest one, proving to be the hardest as he continues…don’t say “Joost.”

When Joost starts curling his fingers inside of you, pace slow as ever and he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit—you have to stifle a whimper, both at the sound, and the appearance of it, his fingers disappeared inside of you. “You’re really going to do this, lieverd?”

“I never said I’d make getting your song easy.”

“I like a challenge.” Joost gives you a kiss to your temple and you smile even as he ceases his fingers moving. “That's why you’re my girlfriend.”

“Hey,” you giggle, and then stop giggling when he moves his fingers faster and it makes a truly blushworthy squelching noise come from inside you. He does it again—why would he stop, seeing the way your face screws up in pleasure in the mirror at the pads of his fingers on your g-spot?

For some reason, you expected him to be nice about it, let you have a little break—but two can play this game, you know that well.

Your wetness is louder than even the rain, his rhythm making the sound almost incessant. “Do you think we could make that the beat?” he thinks out loud and you give him a bewildered expression.

“You…no. One day I’ll understand your thought processes.”

“What do you mean? You already do.”

You never realized how loud it could be to do any of this. Can people hear you so clearly all the time? Your neighbours, your roommates, strangers.

The countless times you’ve fucked in backstage dressing rooms, club bathrooms, the backyard—this is what it sounds like? There is no mistaking it. On the audio recording, it’ll be even clearer. Your voice, high pitched and breathy. Joost’s voice, deep and low and rumbling against your neck.

“How many people do you think, schat? How many have heard us?…I think they would like it, how it sounds when I’m inside you.” You shake your head, heat rushing to your cheeks and the tension in your chest rising at the same time at his words.

“You're so wet, my baby, and this is only the beginning—what about when you cum? How loud do you think you are then? What will my fans think when they hear this, hm?”

“Jo—mmm, fuck,” you sigh, stopping yourself from saying his name.

This shame and arousal growing inside of you—they’re like two sides of the same coin for you, and they accompany that tightening in your stomach, so close to cumming. The impish and petulant devil on your shoulder tells you not to do it so quickly, not to let Joost get what he wants after you agreed so eagerly to this entire thing.

You screw your face up, thinking of… paperwork and saying bye to Joost at the airport and sad kittens in animal shelters—you have never actively avoided an orgasm in your life, but this is working quite well, and it seems to be obvious.

“Schat, are you serious right now?” You open your eyes to see yourself and Joost behind you, his lips a straight line, no amusement to be found on his normally jovial face. “What are you doing?”

“Being a challenge, I thought you knew,” you say, voice more wavering than strong—your eyebrows furrow, a sheen of sweat on your forehead as Joost continues crooking his fingers right into your g-spot. Almost immediately, you lose your focus on keeping your climax away, melting into the pleasure of his thick fingers fucking you open.

“Say my name, baby, that’s all I want from you.”

“No,” you say softly, turning your head and resting it back on his shoulder—he knows what you want, and he can’t resist you. “Please?”

Joost looks at you, blue eyes so warm you almost think he’ll give you what you’re asking—a kiss, his lips on yours, but he only gets so close that your noses brush, that all you can do is breathe into his mouth and hope he gets closer.

You try to adjust yourself, but he holds you in place with his forearms, still thrusting his fingers inside of you, your face contorting in pleasure with every single move he makes closer and closer to your face, tipping you right over the edge, right where your climax is and then—

Nothing.

As quickly as he moved them, Joost takes his fingers out of you, resting them wet on your thigh as you tense with what you thought was going to be an orgasm, a tidal wave of bliss flowing through you. In reality, the waves subside quicker than usual without him fucking you through it, and the sensation is ruined—almost completely.

Pathetically, you let out a whimper, can’t even let out the moan or the gasp of his name he wants so badly, that’s how miserable it feels. Joost’s never done that with you before—he’s always gotten you to the peak and rode down with you through it, kissing and licking and petting you through it and even past that point, mischievous and pushing your buttons when you swear at him to give you a break from all the bliss.

“Joost,” you pout, eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me? You weren’t doing what I wanted, schat, why should you get a good one out of that?” Joost scoffs, and though he doesn’t seem too serious, breathing heavily against your back with you, you can’t help but feel like you did something so wrong. “You’re playing too much.”

It makes sense now—he asked you for one thing—one thing.

Wasn’t much to ask, either. Microphone and equipment straight from his yet to be unpacked suitcase. Joost’s one reprieve from album mode until he’d take the train back for him and Tantu to do a final once over on every single track. This stage in the process takes weeks, sometimes even months—pushing too many buttons on the control panel, their soundboards and computers and plans all prodded and poked and pushed to the limit until the project is the amalgamation of their creative vision and perfection.

This time, you pushed too many buttons; through all of this, you’ve forgotten that Joost has been at home less than 24 hours, that the train ride from Berlin to Amsterdam was 6 hours long with no stops, no wi-fi, no you to soothe his worries, only album preparations far past his self-imposed deadlines and his own thoughts.

You’re both workaholics—it’s why you get along so well, but it means that you know better than anyone that the last thing you’d want to be after so long is annoyed, and annoyed on purpose at that.

When he’s as petulant as you’ve been so far, you know that you can get annoyed as well, asking him to just—stop. And he does, but you couldn’t do that for him. Joost has gotten frustrated with you before, sure, it happens enough that you’re not so affected by it anymore.

But he’s never been so frustrated before that he’s ruined your orgasm. For some reason, the expression on Joost’s face, the heat of the moment, the dull pulse between your legs at both your immense need for him and the emptiness you feel at such a clipped climax has you emotional and overanalyzing the last half hour, every bratty quip of yours, every response from him.

“I’m really sorry, I know you had a long few days, I shouldn’t have—” Water lines your eyes, and you try to blink it away when you ask in a weak voice, “Are you mad at me?” You feel terrible. Embarrassed.

Joost meets your eyes in the mirror, eyes widening in surprise at your emotions strung so tight; you break, a tear running down your cheek which you quickly wipe away because you feel like you're making a big deal out of things and it’s just—aghhh!!!!

“No, my baby, of course not,” he smiles, face sympathetic, lips pouting at his baby being so emotional. Such a reaction would usually make you roll your eyes at him, but he’s so sweet, you have to nuzzle closer to him. “Come here,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and letting you curl up in his lap. “You’re so cute, mijn schat,” he coos, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek as he hugs you tight.

Joost is so kind to you, it makes you feel a bit silly—not in a bad way, just one where you’d never think you’d be sitting on his lap, naked, being comforted about having your orgasm ruined by him. Almost five years of this kindness, you’re not sure you’ll ever be used to it.

“I just got a little frustrated that’s all, none of it was serious, okay? I thought it would be a little fun for us to try something new like that, but I should’ve talked about it with you before—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, wiping your eyes a little. “Just don’t look so serious next time, I really thought you were angry.”

“I got too in the moment, I guess.” Joost moves your hair aside and kisses you on the lips, tender and sweet. “I’ll make up for it, I promise you.”

With that, you nod, letting him kiss you, letting him suck your lower lip in his mouth and then lick into yours, touch so devastatingly slow it almost makes you whine again with anticipation. Joost places a gentle hand over your throat, giving it a small squeeze, and he laughs when you moan, quiet and stifled into his mouth at the pressure. “You know, you’re very pretty when you’re desperate,” he says softly when he pulls away, and your cheeks burn.

“I could say the same about you, Joosti.” He noses at the side of your face, and you melt at the feeling of his skin on yours. “Am I not pretty all the time?” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t start, schatje. Gorgeous, beautiful angel—is that what you want me to say? Lie down and hold your legs back.”

Quickly, you get off of him and lie back down on the bed on your mountain of pillows, and he takes his place sitting between your legs, wet fingers running through your folds as he takes a look at you, all of you. “Aren’t you pretty?”

He takes your left hand, kisses your palm then your fingers, then he places it firmly on the back of your left knee. He does the same for your right side, then lies in between your open legs, staring, examining. One finger down your slit, collecting your wetness on the tip—Joost leaves a bite on the meat of your ass, trailing kisses all the way until he kisses over your entrance, over your clit.

You breathe heavily with anticipation, but still, you find it in you to tease. “Doing a lot of silent things for an audio recording, Joosti.”

“Not silent—all of it is important, every second.” He shakes his head to

“Defeats the whole purpose of the audio? Doesn't it?” You smile, flexing your ankles, feeling your muscles stretch as Joost teases your clit with his index finger, makes you open your legs wider. “The whole point is to record how good you make me feel, right?”

“You want to be silent so badly for me, you want to play around so much—why are you calling me out for it? That I want us to have fun?” Joost rolls his eyes, but then smiles at you, trying to soothe the burn. “I like when you play,” he murmurs, then spits on your pussy, making you full body shiver when you do. “Play even more, let’s make this recording go hours.”

“And I’ll cum all I want?”

“Careful what you wish for.” Joost rubs the spit over your bud, spreading you with two fingers and petting at it with another. “Als een prinses, schatje. Spoiled.”

“Spoiled,” you mock, and he shakes his head at you, grinning.

You probably shouldn’t rile Joost up so much—it’s too late for you to save yourself when he dives in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. The spit and silky softness of his tongue make you keen, how good it feels to have him on you, his lips sucking so much, so good, so wet.

The slide of Joost’s finger inside of you surprises you, how gently he pets against your spot internally as he laps at your pussy; you sigh, having to close your mouth on purpose to not make any sound. He sucks your clit between his lips, tightening, loosening, several seconds passing as he continues the pattern, making you groan with the feeling of him eating you out so well. It’s too much; you cry out when it hits what feels like 10 minutes with his tongue on you, but is really only 20 seconds at most.

Too much, so good—bucking your hips up, you squirm, futile against his strong hands holding you down by the backs of your knees folded almost to your chest as he drinks you in, the wet sound of his mouth smacking against you so humiliatingly wonderful you could cry. How are you supposed to stay silent now?

“I’ll never get enough of this, lieverd,” he says before diving back in, lips wrapped around your clit as you moan out at the suction, whining as you hold onto his arms for support, because pushing against him is no use—either way, who are you kidding? The last thing you want is for him to stop, especially after that first “orgasm”. Completely breathless, you stop trying, tired hips back on the damp bed sheets.

“Good girl, baby,” Joost praises at your defeat, your finally being subdued. The nickname makes you shudder, arousal pooling deep in your stomach, and you squeeze at his arms for some sort of comfort in response.

Joost nips at the thin and sensitive skin of your inner thigh and it makes you yelp, then he comes back and licks through you again, fucking his tongue inside of you.

There’s no sense of organization or pattern anymore with what he’s trying to do—he’s lost it. He’s lost it.

Your climax hits you like a freight train, your stomach and thigh muscles spasming, any control you had—lost. “Mmmf…fuck!” you exclaim, throwing your head back on your pillows as Joost keeps sucking your clit through your orgasm, white on the edges of your vision at how intense he’s doing it. “Ugh… shit!” you cry, panting out when he keeps going.

“It’s only a matter of time until you give me what I want, schatje,” he says in a quiet, sing-song voice, then attaches himself back to you. Your clit is practically numb with pleasure now, and yet, the waves are rolling through you, erratic and wonderfully uncomfortable.

You laugh out, tears at the edges of your eyes at how intense your nerves feel, how fried they are—“Joost, enough!” and he lets up off you. He sits back up and pouts at you, lips and cheeks wet with your arousal.

“‘Jooooooost!!!’” He laments, cursing at the sky in jest, and you laugh at how dramatic he is. “The line is ‘Joost!!’ Lieverd! Joost!!!” he says his own name in a weird, breathy moan that you’re half sure really will make it to a final draft of a song of his.

Holding yourself up, legs open and so wet between them, you purse your lips for a kiss, which Joost gives you. “You said we can make the recording go hours—I’m sure I’ll say it one of these times.”

“Okay, I’m glad I say the recording can go long—I will need a minute.” As Joost pulls back, you tilt your head to the side; he sounds… strange. Embarrassed, almost, and his cheeks are pink, and he can’t look you in the eye anymore, completely different from your ravenous and intimidating boyfriend from 45 minutes ago. “I think I came in my pants.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoff, throwing your head back and laughing.

Joost gets back up off the bed, stands. “Do I look like I'm kidding?” he says, pointing down to the wet spot on his crotch—he must’ve ground against the bed too much, how cute.

“You haven’t done that since we started dating,” you laugh, watching as he strips off his shorts and his underwear looks just as bad.

“Well, I did it again. Your fault. This sucks.” Joost shimmies down his boxers, picking them up and throwing them in the hamper; it hangs on the rim, he’s already soft, and he looks at you so dejectedly, then at the ground. You start to say ‘aww’ —he’s so cute and pathetic this way, but he wags a finger at you, saying, “Do not say ‘aww’ at my dick, you’re annoying,” and it makes you laugh harder until he’s laughing too, climbing on the bed and kissing you sweetly, pulling back only to take off his shirt and then immediately come back to you.

Laying atop you, he wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling at it gently with his teeth as you wince in the pain and the pleasure. Joost lays his tongue flat against it, laps at it, switches to the other one.

“I just love you,” he sighs, latching onto you again immediately after, and it makes you smile—insatiable, truly.

A few moments of this—letting Joost lave over your skin, the stiff peaks of your breasts, sucking hickeys into the meat of them—and he’s ready to sit back against the headboard together.

Your legs are open and his hand is between them in an instant, running his fingers along your skin. It feels strangely electric…not his fingers on you, but his arm against yours, the side of his sweat-sheened body against your hip, what it feels like to see “Thanks for today” on his collarbone and your name and lipstick mark tattooed on the other side of his neck forever.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Joost’s voice—“Why aren’t you saying my name, hm?” he says, gazing at your lips, his nose brushing against yours. You press a chaste kiss to his chin as he circles your clit, spreading your wetness around with his fingers. “It’s mean. It is sinister, what you’re doing.”

“You’re gonna have to work for it, I’m serious.”

“I will work overtime, I’ll be just like you,” he smirks, and shuts you up when he attaches his lips to yours, slips his middle fingers inside of you, grinds the heel of his hand on your clit as you gasp into his mouth, let him move down and suck at your jaw, your pulse point.

The concentration it takes not to lose it makes your eyebrows knit together. He murmurs, “Do you hear that, my love? Do you hear how wet I make you?” says it into your open and mewling mouth, the sound of it all—the squelch of your wetness at the behest of his fingers fucking your pussy. You’re beholden to him, and he enjoys it so much. The person you are at work and in life; normally so collected, preferring the comfortable quiet of your life together, now so bold to let him do this.

“Wat een mooi geluid, mijn meisje. You have me under your spell—what will happen when everyone hears this? Your siren song, hm? Is that what you want? Everyone to know how good I make you feel?”

The surprise on everyone’s faces that you could sound like this, all because of Joost—goofy, grinning, laughing Joost. Serious as ever about coaxing these sounds out of you as he kisses you slowly, tongue so languid on yours, tempting you, seducing you into giving him what he wants.

You’re almost delirious, the bubbling of laughter rising in your body as you grip onto his arm, so big, three of Joost’s thick fingers nestled inside of you and curling against your spot, stroking it with no abandon. You’re stretched thin around him, squirming and twitching with the rising peak coming to a head in your body.

He doesn’t even thrust his middle fingers in and out of you; only keeps them there, deep and to the knuckle inside of your pussy as he curls his fingers inside of you again and again, petting and petting and petting at the most sensitive part inside of you. At the same time, he circles your clit with his thumb—you could almost pass out with how good it feels, how hot you are in this room, rain beating on your roof, his mouth on yours and receiving every single moan and breath you put out.

The only thing absent is a crackling fire and a bottle of wine to fit the mood, but you can’t really complain.

“Happy?” he asks, smiling.

“Joost,” you choke out, eyebrows furrowing as you gaze at him, then close your eyes, touching your forehead to his, clutching his bicep, the challenge to yourself not to say his name all but forgotten.

“Yeah, baby?” Joost grins—in the pursuit of his craft, your boyfriend has turned evil.

“I feel like…” you start, face screwed in pleasure, words stolen from you by his curling fingers, confused at this feeling inside of you you’ve never felt before. “I just feel…”

“What is it, baby?” Joost teases, fucking into you, devilish. “Can you tell me? Can you use your words, like I’ve been asking you to?”

“I’m gonna…”

Burning hot and building up and up and up inside of you, in your stomach, in your chest, your tired thighs tensing the knot in your stomach tightens and tightens and tightens until it snaps, hard and fast; you don’t even realize the curses and almost chanting of his name tumbling out of your mouth as you look down and see—

Clear liquid runs down from your pussy, down your ass as you groan out, a punched out moan tumbling from your lips. The wet squelch around his still moving fingers even louder now—oh my god? There’s wetness beneath you now, a small laugh of disbelief coming from Joost as you gush all over his fingers and hand and writhe with your powerful climax, the bed under you wet, the comforter wet, everything wet, and all because of Joost.

You whine and he nods, smiling at you. “Schatje…I didn’t think it would work…”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, half laughing and half embarrassed at the mess you’ve made, panting and completely out of breath. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?! Mijn schat, that’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, I think.” He takes his fingers out of you with a sound that makes you cringe, and holds his hand in the air, fingertips dripping with your wetness, shiny and slick. You had no idea you could even do that, let alone feel whatever white hot pleasure was ripping through you while you did, and you laugh at his amazement with your hands over your mouth.

“We’ll have to change the sheets again,” you pout once you realize—you just changed them yesterday before he got here, and the other set of sheets is dirty. Ughhhhh.

“I’ll wash the other sheets—I would change them a million times over if it meant you doing that again.”

“We’ll run out of sheets before that happens, Joost.” He hates changing the sheets, but he’s so desperate for it, obviously.

“I’ll make new ones,” Joost says proudly, then kisses you. “Please don’t worry about the bed. I’ll take care of it, and to be honest, I would like you to mess it up even more.” Kiss on your lips. Your worries have melted away with it. “You were so good to me, yet I still didn’t get my song. Tell me, why is that, mijn schat? You want me to torture you for longer?” he says softly, kissing you on the lips.

“It’s not torture,” you breathe out and Joost laughs. “I said your name, what more do you want from me?”

“It’s not torture? Is that right?” he asks, and you nod, coming up to kiss him again, “I want to be inside you, lieverd, that’s what I want.”

Only now do you notice that he’s hard again—the same hand he used to finger you wrapped around his cock, your wetness his lubrication alongside the precum drooling from his tip. “That’s what you’ll get, then,” you say, sweet and smiling and so ready for it even after Joost has had his way with you for what feels like hours now.

It’s your wetness that’s darkened Joost’s arm hair and the hair on his stomach; your wetness facilitating his sharp sighs as he pleasures himself to the sight of you, the thought of you, the sound of you.

Beaming, Joost turns away to the side. “If it isn’t obvious to you, the audience,” he says into the microphone in a silly voice. “This is the first time I’ve made her squirt, and she still wants me so bad!! What the fuck!! I am sooo so lucky!!! What amazing sight, wow. Shoutout lieverd, for real!!” Your laugh is sure to be captured in the background, your small “Shoutout Joosti!” too. Joost turns back to you—”My one in a trillion, baby,” a kiss to your lips, your body being laid on the damp sheets again and your legs opening in response.

“mijn_schatje_loml_voor_altijd_TANTUPLSDONOTLISTEN.mp3” has been running for 1 hour, 33 minutes, 8 seconds, 3 milliseconds—feels like so much longer. Joost lies between your legs again on his stomach, his cheek on your thigh, his calves in the air swinging and happy and him batting his eyelashes at you “innocently.” “Dickhead,” you laugh, knowing he wants to put his tongue on you again, and he laughs too.

“Your favourite one, though, right?”

“Yes, my favourite one.” You roll your eyes at his giggles but smile nonetheless at him. “I want you inside me, Joosti, don’t make me wait, please.”

Joost holds up a finger—“One criticism—”

“Already?!” you exclaim. “What is it?”

Joost gets up off of you and goes to the dresser to the side of your bed. You tilt your head in confusion—there isn’t much in there he could need for the rest of this, but he seems to be determined. “I think it’s the cutest thing when you call me Joosti and I never want you to stop doing that,” he starts, rummaging through the drawer. “But I think for the sake of the song, or your part in it, it would be better if you just said ‘Joost.’ Can you do that?”

“I can do that, Joost,” you tease, your perfectionist musician of a boyfriend coming out in full force.

“Good, good, schat. Now can you say it while I’m using this on you?”

Joost turns around holding…Ole Reliable, the name you both call a taupe vibrating wand that was your best friend before you two started dating, is your best friend when he’s gone for longer than a month or two and your fingers aren’t enough when you two are FaceTiming…to Joost’s absolute displeasure. When he’s home, it hides in your underwear drawer—but trust, he knows where it is.

“Be serious, Joost,” you laugh in disbelief. There’s no way that Ole Reliable will be part of this with how much lighthearted vitriol Joost has treated it in the past, calling it his “mortal enemy,” his “biggest competition.” This isn’t real.

“It takes you like, 3 hours to cum after I’ve made you cum so many times, this will help,” he shrugs, and he’s right. You’re so overstimulated at this point that he’d have to fuck you for longer to get you over the edge, but the vibrator is a bit overkill—it’s powerful, and you’ve made your own legs shake with it countless times, with or without Joost.

“I think I’ll end up…squirting—ew, I hate that word—even more if you use it.”

“It’s not so bad of a word, mijn schat. And either way—bed is already dirty. Why not go all out so we don’t have to clean up again?”

Joost makes a good point, and you know he’ll want to see more of your newfound ability later on—minimizing the cleanup later sounds good, so you lie back, open your legs, run your fingers through your wet folds as his eyes widen at your eagerness. “Let’s go all out,” you giggle and he flops on top of you, exclaiming, “Yayyyyy!!!”

It’s slow, the way he hooks your legs over his thighs, long presses the button of the vibrator, presses it again once so it turns on completely, and then recoils in surprise when he presses the largest button again and again. “Whaaattt the fuck, I didn’t know there were so many patterns in it. That is crazy. You use this?! What is ‘thumping feature.’ There are so many buttons. What…” Joost looks at it in wonder, the vibrations sure to be going through his entire forearm—that thing is strong, and you know it.

“There are only 2 buttons, Joost.”

“That is a lot to me.”

Cycling it back to the lowest, most tame setting, he places the head on your clit, gentle; you hiss at the waves coming through you, even at the lowest rate it could possibly go. “Do you like that, baby?” he asks, voice low, other hand coming down to slip a finger in your pussy. “You look like you love it.”

Nodding, Joost takes your hand and wraps it around the handle of the wand, and you hold it against yourself as he jerks his cock between your legs, enveloping the warm head of it in your entrance. It slips in so nice—you’ve been ready for it for hours now, you'd be surprised if it didn’t just slide in. Your eyes roll back, the back of your head hitting the wire frame of your bed, the vibrations coursing through you and his big cock parting your slit.

“Oh, fuckkk, schat,” Joost moans as he sinks into your soaking wet pussy. “So fucking wet, baby, you feel so good.”

Breathless, you nod, as Joost glides right in; he’s thick, but you're so wet. Three orgasms and counting for you, it’s so easy now. Angling the vibrator, you move it so you can see it all—how messy it is when he pulls his hips back to adjust how he’s thrusting into you, his pubes and happy trail wet with your juices, the hair on his thighs wet as well. What a mess you’ve made.

“Oh my god—“ he says, rolling his neck back in pleasure once he finally bottoms out inside of you, the wand pressed against his pelvis just as much as it’s pressed against yours. Joost bites his lip, shaking his head. Not so much of a mortal enemy, after all, is it? “How do I compete with this thing…”

“This thing could never be you, Joost,” you breathe, and it’s true. So tired, so happy, you’re a little emotional about it for some reason.

How he holds you so warm and safe and tight, always, never a question on if he wants and loves you—he always does and always will. In bed together like this, sheltered from the rain in your home together, your cats scratching at the door and a whole life ahead of you; on the train giggling with each other about the middle-aged and elderly side-eyeing his barking and boisterous laughter; in club bathrooms and snow covered curbs and swimming pools in your backyard and the couch downstairs.

The rest of the world should be envious about what you have, who you hold. Joost, this house, that audio recording, and you, forever.

“Hehe!” Joost leans over to the microphone and gloats into it, “Me—1! Vibrator—zeroooo! Hahahahah!”

You laugh—and this, forever. You could never trade this in.

Pulling Joost in, you kiss him sweet and slow, little thrusts of him inside of you as he moans into your mouth incessantly, every breath of his a whimper, it must feel so good—buried balls deep in your pussy, vibrator against your clit and pressed against the few centimeters of shaft that can’t fit in you when he begins thrusting inside of you sloppily, the hollow clap of his hips against you filthy as you moan out his name against the humming backdrop of the toy you're using together.

Every nerve in your body winds itself tight around the coil in your stomach as he fucks into you, a smooth and steady rhythm that makes you lose yourself, trying to wrap yourself around him, wanting to devour him whole, wanting to make it so it’s just you and him and no one else in the world, no one outside these walls, no one else. With Joost breathing into your mouth, his sweaty bangs tickling your forehead, the taste of his tongue on yours—there might as well be no one on this earth except you and him.

“I can't do it, Joost, it’s too much,” you whine as he keeps driving into you—god, you want it so badly, but three and a half orgasms later and you’re entirely spent, letting him do all the work as you moan loudly, no control over yourself or your body. The vibrator is pressed flush against your clit and gets you to the precipice faster than you’d like right now.

“You can do it, baby,” he coos, and you know there’s no way to get out of this. Either way, you wouldn’t want to, legs wrapped around him, the buzzing of the vibrator such music to your ears, the feeling of his cock driving into you and Joost, a warm and heavy and perfect weight atop you. As you claw at his shoulders, his back, he holds you open with his strong hands, your squirming no match for his strength with every deep seat of his cock inside of you. “I know you can, you can do it.”

When he says it, you believe it; you have to bite and suck at his neck in order to focus on keeping it together long enough for him to cum, apologizing to Lola in your head at your treatment of her, how she’ll be blooming purple and red by the time the sun rises tomorrow. Joost ruts into you, pressing the vibrator hard to your clit and it’s so…it’s so much, the mattress squeaks with how spirited his hips are against you, loud slaps of skin against skin and your name, his name, intertwined on this wavelength, on this track for everyone to hear.

“Joost…fuck, Joost!” you cry out again and again, tears coming to your eyes with how hard and fast your orgasm rips through you, repeating Joost’s name like a prayer, an oath, gushing around him and too fucked out to kiss back properly when he licks into your mouth, grounding you back to this bed even as you sob out in pleasure, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at how amazing he’s making you feel. “I love you,” you breathe, blissed and fucked out tears streaming down your cheeks at how good it feels, all open and airy.

“Why are you all sappy, baby? ‘Cause I’m fucking you so well?” Joost teases, pressing wet kisses to your tear stained cheeks, your mouth bitten red with his nips, his kisses all throughout this.

“Yes, I love you, Joost,” you sniffle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer even if it means the vibrator gets pushed even harder against your aching clit.

He laughs, continuing his feverish thrusting as he finally gives you the kiss you want. “I love you too, mijn hart.”

You don’t notice him fumbling around on the side table as he kisses you, bringing the wired earphone from the nightstand back to your ear, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Do you hear that, mijn schat?” The feedback, his voice, doubled and almost echoing as you hear it in real life and it plays out in your ears, delayed. You have to try and dampen the rest of your senses to focus on what you’re hearing. The slopping of his hips against your ass, the low pitched vibrations of the wand, his voice.

Joost’s voice that distracts you until you’re snapped out of it by him pulling out, stroking his cock and panting heavily, cheeks and chest and neck pink with exertion, skin shining with sweat. “What are you doing?” you mumble.

“You’ve already done so much, schat,” Joost breathes, and you shake your head, looking up at him through wet eyelashes.

“Finish what we started, I want it all.”

Obediently, Joost nods, inching himself back inside you again; it sounds so wet in your ears, the microphone capturing every gritty detail, every squelch of yours and his.

“Schat, I wanna…fuck, I wanna cum inside you so bad,” he whines, erratic thrusting with every word, losing it again, losing the practiced, methodical musician that you know so well. Even with his whining, his voice is deep, needy, chanting your name like you moaned his. “Wanna…fuck, I wanna fuck it in you ‘til it takes, I want everyone to hear it, see it, know you’re mine…mine, mine, mine…”

“Yeah, baby?” you smile, his cheek laid against your tits as he grinds against you, then goes back for long, deep strokes inside of you. Joost groans so loud against your skin, spit and sweat on the softness of your breasts; so overwhelmed, he takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks, nipping at you through his own orgasm, stuttering his hips into your pussy.

Warm ribbons of Joost’s cum paint your insides and fill you up so well, your moans finally joining his as he comes down from his high, moaning and sobbing out your name, lieverd, schat, collapsing on your chest and heaving for his breath again as you catch yours once more, satisfied with your recording together.

“That a good enough song for you, Joost?” you smile, eyes already closing with the bliss of such a good recording session together.

“Dutch Grammy worthy, mijn meisje,” Joost breathes, and you laugh as he reaches to the side and shuts his laptop, ending your recording. “How about another recording session later?”

—

A month later and you’re carrying a paper bag of takeout from a few blocks down, earphones blasting a new demo from Joost and Tantu, using the spare key under Tantu’s doormat to get into his apartment from the cold. You set down the bag on the counter of his tiny kitchen, place the key back under the doormat, get three bowls together to split the takeout between, get utensils and glasses of water and what have you before you enter the bedroom studio.

The takeout fights you tooth and nail; cheap food spilling everywhere, oil and sauce and vegetables on the counter and the rims of the bowls that you have to wipe up with the one (1. ONE!) paper towel left on the roll in the kitchen. Is this what happens when Ruby isn’t in town and they’re in album mode? You figure it must.

You manage to wrestle it all together precariously, using every square centimeter of the one paper towel you have in your arsenal before picking up all three bowls—two of them nestled in your left arm, one of them held in your right hand.

The door to the bedroom is closed shut—your arms are full, and you spend a few moments fussing about how to get in without having to go back into the kitchen and set down the food, but you hear Tantu and Joost’s muffled voices through the door.

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have skipped ahead—“

“You should've never played it, Tantu!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have kept it on your desktop for anyone to see! With my name on it!”

You tilt your head in confusion, and then knock on the door with your foot; in an instant, Tantu opens it for you, and you hear, loud and clear: “I wanna fuck it in you ‘til it takes, I w—” before Joost slams the laptop shut and says, “Baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I—”

2 fics in a few weeks!! lfg!!! i hope you enjoyed!! <3 thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) they keep me writing!! askbox anon on hereeee - juno

#joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost smut #joost x you #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfiction #joost fanfic #joost klein x you #juno's fics #juno’s writing #juno’s smut #normal au

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saiyanprincessswanie · 2 months ago

Text

Birthday Wish

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2440

Summary: Bucky’s birthday wish is to finally have you all to himself.

Warnings: Pure Smut, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral (M & F).

A/N: @avengers-assemble-bingo for James Buchanan Barnes - 108th Birthday. The squares filled are “Confetti” & "Balloons." (card #4B 024)

A/N 2: Thank you to my betas @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @nekoannie-chan Thank you to @fictional-affairs for the header. Thank you to @whimsicalrogers for the divider

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site. It has been stolen if you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics 🚫🚫

If there was one thing Bucky enjoyed now in life, it was his birthday. He celebrated it with his close friends every year as it brought a sense of happiness to his day. The room was filled with balloons and Sam was shooting confetti canisters in the air just to annoy Buck. The cake came out and everyone sang the birthday song to him.

“Blow out the candles and make a wish.” You chimed in.

Bucky only wanted one thing for his birthday and that was you. Bucky was watching you from across the table laughing with Nat. God what he wouldn’t give to finally get you under him in his bed. You had teased him earlier that if he wished for it then it may come true.

Testing the waters Bucky looked at you smirking and blew the candles out. He watched as you bit your bottom lip and fluttered your eyelashes at him. Yeah, he knew you wanted it as well.

Both you and Bucky have been friends for years now. You started dating each other months ago as you both had so much in common. You both wanted to wait to sleep with the other but now the wait was unbearable. You swore if he didn’t make his move tonight you were going to.

The party continued for a couple of hours when Steve and Sam approached Bucky.

“Your wonderful woman over there, jerk, has been sending you signals all night.” Steve chuckled as he patted Bucky’s shoulder.

Sam chimed in, “So go get your girl and leave.”

Bucky looked from his friends then to you. You were wearing a cute blue dress that came just above your knees. Bucky could see you rubbing your legs together.

“Yeah I’m going to head out, see you later.”

Nat and you were talking about your night ahead of you. Nat was giving you tips in case you needed it. But once you both saw Bucky heading your way you knew what was to come.

“Hey, doll. Are you ready to go?” Bucky asked.

Taking the last swig of your drink you nodded your head at him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You replied.

Bucky’s flesh hand reached for yours and you held him as you left together.

You headed outside and started to walk together towards Bucky’s house which wasn’t far from Steve’s.

“So what did you wish for Buck?” You asked. You looked at him with innocent eyes.

Bucky turned to you and smiled. “I can’t tell you that doll or it might not come true.

The thoughts that ran through your mind sent chills down your spine. This man was going to ruin you for all others. Not that you wanted any other man. Bucky was perfect for you. He was always a gentleman with the kindest heart when around you. He was also protective of you and made sure you were as safe as can be. Tonight though was going to be something special. You both have been patiently waiting for the other to be ready and clearly, tonight was going to be it.

You reached his house and Bucky led the way up the stairs. He unlocked the door and had you follow him in. He closed the door and locked it then tossed his keys on the counter. Before you knew it he was standing in front of you gazing into your eyes.

“You know if you’re not ready we don’t have to do this. We can just cuddle and watch TV. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way.” Bucky held your hands, rubbing the backs of them with both thumbs as he tried to soothe you.

Shaking your head you squeezed his fingers. “No, I don’t want to wait another minute. I want this Buck, that’s if you’ll have me.”

Bucky shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it on a chair. You kicked off your heels as he undid his boots. Leaving them both in front of the door he led you to his bedroom. His room was spacious with a large bed in the room. You’ve been in here before to cuddle and make out but nothing further than that. Bucky led you to the bed and you both sat down.

“I’m gonna be honest, I'm a little nervous. It’s been decades since I… you know, I’ve done anything like this.”

“Well it’s been years for me too Bucky so why don’t we start slow.” You suggested as he nodded his head at you.

You stood from the bed and turned your back to him so he could unzip your dress. Taking your cue he unzipped the dress slowly. When he finished you let the dress pool at your feet leaving you in just your matching light blue lacy bra and panties. Turning around you nervously put your hands next to your sides and gazed at Bucky whose mouth was open in shock of your beauty.

“Like what you see?” Your cheeks warmed from how Bucky was staring at you.

Bucky was just staring back at you. He was taking in your beauty and how soft you looked. How was he supposed to not hurt you with his strength? “God you are beautiful.”

He stood as well and peeled his black shirt off his body. It was your turn to stare at him as he pushed his black pants to the floor leaving him in just his boxer briefs and dog tags. He kicked his pants off to the side and both of you stood in silence taking one another in. Bucky’s vibranium hand lightly caressed your cheek showing you he would be gentle with you.

You sighed into his hand and closed your eyes feeling his hand go from your cheek to your shoulder. You opened your eyes and were met with his blue eyes. There was longing in them and you decided you needed to be the one to break the ice. Gently your hands caressed his muscular body and you could hear his breath hitch. You lightly pushed him toward the bed and he complied. Once he sat on the bed you straddled his lap and kissed him. The kiss was slow as tongues caressed one another. You let out a small moan and Bucky deepened the kiss. His hands both warm and cold caressed your back and made their way to the back of your bra where he opened it gently. The bra was then cast aside leaving you half naked before him.

Bucky gently lifted you and turned you both around so your back hit the bed. His mouth started trailing kisses down the side of your neck and sucked just below your ear causing you to groan a little. His mouth descended from your neck and kissed over your breasts. He licks around your nipple and sucks on it gently while his vibranium fingers play with the other one. His left-hand rolls your nipple gently while he sucks on the other one making your breath speed up. Then he switches to the other breast to give it the same treatment and his right hand plays with your right nipple.

You can feel your panties becoming soaked just from him playing with your breasts. His cock is centered over your mound and you roll your hips to get some friction from him. Grinding into him causes Bucky to moan as he rolls his hips into you. His lips find yours and you both are making out again while continuing to dry hump each other. After a couple of minutes, Bucky stops.

“If we keep this up I’ll be cumming before we even start.” He breathlessly says.

You nod your head trying to catch your breath. That’s when Bucky starts kissing his way down your body. Every soft kiss is driving you wild and all you want to do is sink your teeth into him. But you let him continue until he gets to your panties.

“God, you're soaked.” He pulls your panties down your legs and throws them over his shoulder. “I need to have a taste of you.”

You part your legs wide to allow him access to you. “Please Bucky I need you,” you beg him.

“Don’t worry doll, I will take care of you.”

Bucky throws your legs over each shoulder and pulls you as close to his mouth as he can. His eyes lock with yours as he licks a long stripe through your pussy and kisses your clit. Every flick of his tongue through your petals, every suckle of his lips on your clit has you moaning in pleasure.

“Ohmygod Bucky!”

Your hands find their purchase in Bucky’s hair as he continues to eat you out like a man starved. He moves his right hand up to where his mouth is and briefly pulls away. He inserts not one but two thick fingers inside of you and curls them just right which has you so close to coming. Bucky feels your walls tighten around his fingers as his vibranium thumb finds your clit and begins to rub it in tight circles.

That’s all you need before you cum hard for Bucky. Your toes curl as your arousal coats his hand and wrist. He works you through your orgasm and you shake from overstimulation. Bucky pulls away slowly and kisses your pussy one more time before he crawls up your body to kiss you on your lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue and hum your approval. You kiss for a few minutes before you finally push on his chest. “Now it’s my time to taste you, Sergeant.” You grab his dog tags giving him one last kiss before you both switch positions.

Bucky lays on his back as you kneel before him. He lifts his hips as you pull his boxer briefs down his thick thighs and you throw them off the bed. You slowly make your descent down his body and gently grab his hard thick cock. You pump him up and down several times gauging his reaction. Bucky bites his bottom lip and nods his head at you encouraging you to take control.

You lean down and lick some of the precum that is leaking down his shaft. Swirling your tongue around the tip a few times you finally take him down your throat. Taking him deep causes a groan of your name to leave his lips as you bob your head up and down his cock. His flesh hand grabs your hair and he fucks up into your throat causing you to gag around him.

“Fuck, doll, that’s it.”

You both work together in tandem bringing Bucky closer and closer to his release. When your hand goes to fondle his balls that's what tips Bucky over causing him to cum deep in your throat with a loud groan. You swallow every last drop.

You pull off with a pop and you hear Bucky groan again. Crawling up his body you lay next to him for a minute. Bucky rolls to his side facing you and smiles.

“That was incredible, doll. But I hate to break it to you…” He looks down at his cock and your eyes follow his. Bucky is already hard.

“Oh my. You’re already ready?” You asked, shocked by how hard he already is.

Bucky chuckles, “I’m ready whenever you are, no rush. It’s just I haven’t had sex in so long and I’m desperate to be inside your pussy.”

You lay on your back and spread your legs for him. “If you want it, take it. It’s all yours. But Bucky, don’t hold back.”

Bucky was on you in a heartbeat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Smiling at him you respond, “You could never hurt me Bucky. Now please fuck me.”

That’s all he needed to hear as he grabs his cock and rubs it through your wet pussy a few times. Making sure he is completely covered in your arousal Bucky places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes into you.

Both of you release a moan and groan from the sensation. His cock is stretching you out with every inch he pushes inside you. Your legs wrap around his waist and your heels press into his lower back until he is fully inside you.

Bucky pulls out slowly and pushes back in. In and out, the rhythm is slow and steady. He is afraid of hurting you and takes his time. He kisses your neck just below your ear making you whimper from the sensation of his beard lightly tickling you.

You whine every time he bottoms out inside you. But you just need more of him.

“Bucky, I need you to go harder. Please, I need it.”

He looks up into your eyes and understands. His pace starts to pick up as he thrusts harder and faster into your tight pussy. This is what you needed and you cried out his name.

“Bucky!”

God, it feels good as he pounds into you over and over again. One hand is holding onto his bicep while the other hand is holding onto his dog tags that were swinging in your face. You hold on for dear life as he takes you apart.

Quickly he sneaks his right hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. With a hard thrust you are cumming hard around his cock and your body tenses up, your walls are so tight Bucky cums deep inside you with a shout of your name as he rides out his high with a few more thrusts.

Bucky comes to a stop and looks down at you. You're a beautiful sight as you lay there underneath him and look blissed out. He leans down to kiss you on your lips before he slowly pulls out of you.

He sneaks out of bed and goes to clean himself up quickly. Then he brings back a towel and cleans you up. Discarding the towel in his hamper he crawls back into bed and pulls your body close to his.

Bucky rubs soothing circles on your back and you hum out in contentment.

“This has to be the best birthday gift I have had in forever. Thank you for this gift.” Bucky whispers against your hair.

You look up at him and smile. “I’m happy I could give myself to you so intimately. I can’t wait to do this again with you. You made me feel so loved.”

“I’m glad you feel that way ‘cause I’m so in love with you doll.”

“I love you too, Bucky. More than you will ever know. Happy birthday Buck.”

Taglist

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tobesolnelyx · 3 days ago

Note

shauna overstimulating g!p reader until she feels bad and finally gives in giving the header head until she’s crying from the pleasure

NSFW - MDNI

Shauna’s mission tonight is simple: to tease you to death. And you’re almost certain she decided that long before she invited you over for a sleepover.

First, she walks around in those ridiculously tight shorts that hug her thighs just right. You catch yourself staring and she shoots a sharp glance over her shoulder while adjusting the waistband.

“What?” she asks, all innocent. But she knows exactly what.

“Nothing,” you mumble, grabbing a pillow from her bed to hide the hard-on already straining in your boxers. Goddamn it. From that alone? “Everything’s fine.”

She shrugs with a small, knowing smile. Of course she knows what she’s doing.

“Can we…uh,” you stammer, cheeks burning — and not just from the stuffy heat in her attic room. You’re already embarrassed by how quickly you got hard. “Watch the movie? Finally?”

You’re not sure how you’ll survive if she decides to sit closer.

Her hair is still damp from a shower, her loose shirt clinging in places that makes you feel feral — her nipples, visibly hard beneath the fabric, silently begging to be sucked until they’re red and puffy.

And her ass? It moves like sin itself every time she walks across the room.

Naturally, she’s not about to make this easy for you. She grabs the pillow you’re using to cover your throbbing cock, tossing it aside like it’s nothing. You go crimson, silently begging the universe not to let you ruin your sweatpants right here.

Then, she settles right between your legs. Like she’s done a million times before. Only this time, her ass brushes right against your aching cock. It’s torture.

You don’t say a word. Just let out a soft, involuntary whimper.

If Shauna hears it, she doesn’t comment. She just shifts her hips — more deliberately this time — grinding against you like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

And she does.

You last 20 minutes. Twenty whole minutes of her pressing against your dick, pretending nothing’s happening while your brain short-circuits with every movement.

Finally, you lean close, voice barely a murmur in her ear. “Shauna…”

You flinch as you notice the wet spot spreading through the fabric of your sweats — pre-cum soaking through.

“Hmm?” she hums, glancing back at you. You nearly lose it then and there.

“I need—” You swallow hard, hips twitching up against her. You know she can feel the slick spot where you’ve been leaking onto her lower back. You groan — half from frustration, half from overwhelming need.

She knows. Of course she does. But she’s not going to make it easy.

“God, you’re so fucking needy,” she sighs with a grin that betrays how much she’s enjoying this.

Then she shifts, turns around, and straddles your lap, her ass pressing directly onto your dick. You groan, grabbing her hips, silently begging her to grind on it.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she kisses down your neck, your jaw, casually — as if you’re not throbbing underneath her, seconds away from losing your mind. The pressure in your boxers is almost unbearable now.

“That hard already?” she teases, feigning surprise. “Christ, you’re a desperate little thing, huh?” Her hand tilts your chin up.

“Shauna, can you…?” you try, but she presses two fingers into your mouth without warning.

You let out a low, broken moan, hips bucking. The wet stain grows larger.

“No.” Her voice is sweet, almost tender. Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging gently. You whimper again, dangerously close to kicking your feet like a frustrated child.

“Suck,” she commands — and you do. God, you do. You’re good at it, even if you’re the one in desperate need of being sucked off.

“You can take it,” she whispers. “I know you can.”

“Please—” you mumble around her fingers, voice thick and shaking.

She doesn’t relent. Just smears your spit across your lips and chin like she owns you. Cause maybe she does.

Then, finally — finally — she grinds. Just once. Just enough to make you gasp.

“C’mon,” she grins against your ear. “Don’t be so pathetic, baby.”

Your head falls back with a strangled cry, and of course, she stops again. No follow-through. She wants to break you — and she’s doing a damn good job.

You grab her hips again, desperate, but she swats your hands away.

“No,” she says. “We’re not doing this tonight.”

The stain on your pants is massive now. It looks like you’ve already come. You haven’t. God, you wish you had.

You whine again, this time loud and hopeless. You’re so close to pulling your cock out and jerking off right in front of her. On her. Maybe on those damn nipples.

And then… she licks it. Her tongue drags along the wet fabric of your sweatpants, tasting everything you’ve leaked so far.

You nearly sob.

She shifts again — between your legs now — and your breath catches as she pulls down your pants and boxers in one smooth motion. Even that slight stimulation makes you squirm and moan like it’s your first time.

“Please,” you cry, your voice high and raw. Your cock pulses, leaks, twitches. You’re not sure if you’re aching more from the need or from the sensitivity.

Shauna looks up at you — and something softens in her eyes. She sees the desperation, the way your whole body trembles. Something in her melts.

She grabs your cock suddenly, and the shock of it nearly makes you scream. Your hips shoot up, back arches — and then she takes you into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact.

You fist your hands in her hair, holding on like you’ll die if you let go. Her lips wrap around the head of your cock, tongue swirling, and it takes her only a few motions of her head, a few sloppy pumps of her hand—

And you cum. Hard. Embarrassingly fast.

You shake. Cry. Moan so loudly it surprises even you. It’s overwhelming — sudden, sharp.

You feel her swallowing around you, greedy and slow, and it just makes it worse — or better. You don’t even know anymore.

You’re still sobbing when your hips finally fall limp, your back slumping into the bed. Her mouth releases you with a soft pop.

Shauna props herself on one elbow and kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers, voice full of affection. “You’re just so fun to tease.”

Then she holds you — arms wrapped around your trembling body, lips brushing your temple. She whispers sweet nothings into your ear until your breathing slows, until the tears stop and the ache inside you fades into the warmth of her embrace.

#my writing #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x female reader #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets

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babyangelsky · 4 months ago

Text

BL Boys I Wanted Carnally in 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

Remember this game? I'm bringing it back!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LET'S LOOK AT BEAUTIFUL MEN

♡ Fort Thitipong as Mahasamut (Love Sea)

I wrote a whole post about how badly I wanted to eat this man with a spoon and how stupidly fucking attractive he is because I could not keep it to myself. I WANT TO EAT EVERY LAST BEEFY GOLDEN INCH OF HIM AND THEN I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!

♡ Furuya Robin as Takashi (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

I see Hiro. I understand Hiro. If this man made this face at me, I would also go have a really good shower.

♡ Ngern Anupart as Arthit (Fourever You)

THEY MADE HIM A FOOTBALL PLAYER AND COVERED HIM IN TATTOOS I NEED PART 2 LIKE I NEED AIR *SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

♡ Great Sapol as Yoryak (Wandee Goodday)

He's my blog header and blog title for a reason. Putting this beautiful giant ass man in bunny ears and a tail was a gift *specifically* for me. A gift for which I am eternally grateful, bless you thank you P'Golf.

♡ Mark Sorntast as Pie (Battle of the Writers)

I would like to once again thank the cameraman for this very slow pan up Mark's body and I would also like to thank whoever decided that Pie should strip for Ozone because they really blessed us all.

♡ Top Piyawat as Namping/Sian (Every You, Every Me)

I want them both in very different ways which, once again, all the credit in the world to Top both for Looking Like That and for having the skill to portray these two characters so differently.

♡ Pond Ponlawit as Hill (Fourever You)

I don't ever not want Pond carnally when he is on my screen. He was also great and attractive as Third in Century of Love but he didn't get enough screen time and also they didn't show him to us like this:

♡ Joong Archen as Fadel (The Heart Killers)

Style's just like me fr because I would absolutely RUIN my life for this man. I would ruin several lives for this man. I'd beg, borrow, and steal for this man.

♡ Frank Thanatsaran as Atom (The Rebound)

Atom is too sweet and too good and too damn fine not to have gotten his happy ending. I would do so right by him. He'd get a happy ending and then some.

♡ Nagumo Shoma as Arashi (Love in the Air Koi)

No one has ever been more perfectly cast in anything ever than this man. Shoma was made to be the Japanese version of Payu. The daddy dom energy just drips off of him. AND THAT SHOT OF HIS BACK? STILL NOT OVER IT.

♡ Big Thanakorn as God (Monster Next Door)

He's just so unfair. The sweetest, greenest flag of a man ever and built like a goddamn tree it's NOT FAIR!

♡ Lin Chia Yo as Johnathan (See Your Love)

Peace and love to Xin Jia he's just a baby gangster trying his best but I would NEVER let Johnathan leave that bed whether I remembered how we got there or not. NEVER.

♡ Sailub Hemmawich as Oab (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The long pretty eyelashes and the fuck me eyes and that body I just--ONE CHANCE JUST GIVE ME ONE CHANCE OAB PLEASE

♡ Yin Anan as Jack (Jack & Joker)

HE HAS A NECKLACE OF MOLES AROUND HIS NECK! HE HAS A MOLE JUST BENEATH HIS SHOULDER BLADE! DO YOU GET IT DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

♡ Jaonine Jiraphat as Latte (Knock Knock Boys)

Of course he's on this list. Do you know how many of his gym thirst traps I've posted on this blog since this show aired? I would like to personally and very sincerely thank whoever styled Jaonine in this show.

♡ Max Kornthas as Tai (Two Worlds)

I'd get distracted too if he was looking at me like this while I drew him. Doesn't matter which version of him it was, I would let him do anything to me and if it was the scarface version, I could fix him.

♡ Poom Phuripan as Joe (My Stand-In)

The way I would give Joe anything he wanted just to see that beautiful face smiling up at me. Congrats to Ming for being rich and everything but he could never treat Joe as right as I could. I would babygirlify that man to within an inch of his life just like he deserves.

♡ Honorable Mentions ♡

I am going to break my own rules a little bit because this is my list and I can so I'm going to include:

Kevin Chang as Ever4 (Eternal Butler)

Like I know the show just started and thus doesn't meet my criteria but I can't NOT include our new favorite daddy dom robot butler because...

...reasons. If I do a list like this for next year, best believe he's gonna be on it again.

Nike Nitidon as In (180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us)

This breaks my rules even more but I watched this show for the first time like a week ago and it immediately landed itself on my list of favorite BLs ever because everything about it is like heroin to me and I NEED this man to be in another BL so desperately like you don't understand giVE HIM BACK TO ME.

#babyangelsky's 2024 wrap up #love sea #love is better the second time around #fourever you #every you every me #wandee goodday #monster next door #love in the air koi #knock knock boys #two worlds the series #jack and joker #this love doesn't have long beans #see your love #my stand in #the rebound the series #the heart killers #battle of the writers #eternal butler #180 degree longitude passes through us

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onlyangel4 · 5 months ago

Text

onlyangel4 1k event - P3. gr63. ab23. SMAU.

trope: soft launch

pairing: alex albon x george russell x reader

faceclaim: maia mitchell

1k event

alexalbon posted a story tagging georgerussell

written: catching up with this one

georgerussell posted a story tagging alexalbon

written: drinks with al before heading off for the triple header

y/ninsta posted a story

written: first fit of the weekend, so ready to support pookie

f1wags

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 73,348 others

f1wags: for his first time since joining f1 george has been accompanied while entering the paddock. actress y/n y/ln was pictured entering the vegas paddock with him ready for media day

view all 5,284 comments

user1: alex albon found screaming crying and throwing up

user2: i bet alex is gutted

user3: my dreams of alex x george have been ruined

user4: everyone talking about alex when we really need to discus how gorgeous y/n is

user5: fr, well done mister george russell

mercedesupdates

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 23,283 others

mercedesupdates: guys george and y/n are the cutest couple ever, george was asked about her in press today and he answered, "yes we have been dating for over a year and i thought vegas would be the perfect place to show her off to the rest of the world, she is the best and i'm sure the fans are going to love her almost as much as i do"

view all 3,292 comments

user6: did anyone see the way alex was smiling so much when george was talking about y/n he is so happy for george it is so cute

user7: george is smitten

user8: they are so fucking cute, it makes me feel sick

georgerussell posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: p1 in qualifying today all because i have my lucky charm

y/ninsta posted a story

written: race day baby

f1updates posted a story

written: alex albon has been forced to dnf after issues with the car

williamsupdates posted a story

written: y/n ran to go and comfort alex albon after his dnf, i wonder if george knows how close they are

f1wags posted a story

written: y/n and george celebrating his win

georgerussell

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, y/ninsta and 1,293,283 others

tagged: alexalbon. y/ninsta.

georgerussell: convinced that winning was influenced by having my two favourite people by my side this weekend.

view all 198,283 comments

alexalbon: i think that was all your skill, we are so proud of you

y/ninsta: what he said

y/ninsta: think i need to come to more race weekends

alexalbon: please give me some of that race luck my love

landonorris: you three have broken my twitter

y/ninsta: ipad kid

user9: oh my god this is the hard launch of the century

user10: this is so insane

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aajjks · 1 year ago

Text

Silent Cries (m)

synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way

Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.

warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.

note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY!

Header credit: @callingholly ❤️

***NOT EDITED***

You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.

The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.

You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.

But why Fate is never really on your side?

Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.

You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?

now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.

The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.

You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.

If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.

And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.

You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.

Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.

And even though you have made your decision,

Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.

But- it’s almost time.

He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.

You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.

As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.

You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..

You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.

This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.

Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.

Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.

You inhale a deep breath.

Time to do this.

“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.

He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.

You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.

“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.

You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.

“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.

What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.

“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.

“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.

So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.

“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.

If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.

You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.

You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.

His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.

“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.

“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.

“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.

“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.

“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”

“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response.

But all you get is silence.

When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?

Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.

His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.

It was about time he suffered.

“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.

“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.

You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.

Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.

But meanwhile…

He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.

Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.

Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.

Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.

Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.

He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.

Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.

He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.

A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?

“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.

You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?

“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.

“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.

Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.

It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.

As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.

“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.

“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.

“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?

“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.

“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”

Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?

You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.

He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.

There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.

Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.

He will fix that.

A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.

“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.

You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.

“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”

Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.

He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.

“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.

There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.

No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.

You will have to decide the baby’s fate.

It all depends on you now.

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hiloedits · 2 years ago

Text

— nikolai sokolov headers

like or reblog if you use/save.

#book header #book headers #legacy of gods header #legacy of gods headers #god of wrath header #god of wrath headers #god of ruin header #god of ruin headers #nikolai sokolov #nikolai sokolov header #nikolai sokolov headers

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goldsainz · 1 year ago

Text

❝ ALL I NEED IS YOU ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . lewis hamilton x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. request . . . “could you do slut! for Lewis? and maybe a combination of angst and fluff?”

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . fans hate you for dating their favourite driver, but it all might just be worth it for once.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . I’M BACK WITH THE FICS!! i’m not quite sure why i had a creative drought, but i’m glad i’m out of it🙏 alsooo, hope you guys liked the new theme bc i brainstormed for hours about it and i’m actually really liking it

liked by ynfan1, lewisfan1 and 85,326 others

f1gossip Once again, Y/N Y/L/N is back in the paddock! The unofficial but official girlfriend of Lewis Hamilton has now been present for all of the triple-header and fans have noticed! Now, many aren’t happy that their beloved F1 Superstar is entangled with the model because of her dating tendencies. Will she be at the Las Vegas Grand Prix? Let us know your thoughts! 👀

view all 1,279 comments

lewisfan2 need her far far away from my man

lewisfan3 sick and tired of seeing her appear on my screen🙄

ynfan2 don’t know who this lewis guy is but i’m loving all the y/n content we’re getting!!!

⤷ lewisfan4 and thank god you know nothing of the sport. we don’t want any of her fans ruining it.

lewisfan5 unpopular opinion: i actually like her and lewis together🤷‍♀️

ynfan3 i hope she continues dating lewis just to piss you guys off

ynfan4 SHE LOOKS SO GOOOOOOD

lewisfan6 🤮🤮🤮

lewisfan7 bye not her taking a photo in front of his car

⤷ ynfan5 she’s his gf? why wouldn’t she do that?

⤷ lewisfan7 it’s giving attention wh0re

⤷ ynfan5 or (and hear me out) she’s just a supportive gf!!

lewishamilton and yourusername posted an instagram story!

liked by lewishamilton, rosalia.vt and 2,018,376 others

yourusername brasil, eu te amo

view all 30,275 comments

ynfan21 mother is mothering

lewisfan21 STAY AWAY FROM HIM! GET A JOB!

ynfan22 they’re actually so cute

adrianalima Bonitos! 💜

liked by yourusername and 65,274others

lewisfan22 girl, that caption is not for brasil😭

lewisfan23 sick and tired of her appearing in my feed

lewisfan24 can’t wait until lewis leave you!!!!!!

user21 since when are they dating?

⤷ ynfan23 it’s really unclear, but everyone points to this year’s silverstone gp when she went as a mercedes guest!

⤷ user21 and people are still hating on her???

⤷ ynfan23 yeah lmao

lewisfan25 mama y papa

lewisfan26 crazy how just a couple mints ago she was supposedly dating tom brady and now she’s “in love” with lewis… such a slut

⤷ ynfan24 you literally don’t know her. stop insulting people you don’t know.

ynfan25 mourning the loss of my wife rn 💔

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,537,104 others

yourusername it’s raw, it’s real and it’s here!

this interview is extensive, but interviewer was so polite and just the perfect person to be interviewed by, to have my voice told by.

my vogue article will be yours too on the 22nd of november.

comments are turned off

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 2,075,138 others

lewishamilton FIA Gala, 2023

view all 31,127 comments

yourusername an honour to be by your side 💜

⤷ lewishamilton The honour is all mine 💜

lewisfan41 THIS SHIT IS SO CUTE OML

lewisfan42 did not expect the hard launch, sir hamilton

roscoelovescoco I love’s my mum’s

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 201,849 others

ynfan41 my heart literally flew out of my chest when i saw that they were together at the gala

mercedesamgf1 Our second Mercedes royal couple 👑

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 174,052 others

lewisfan43 bro you didn’t take the prize home😭

⤷ lewisfan44 he already has the biggest prize with him

⤷ ynfan42 lewis fans got poetic all of a sudden

⤷ ynfan43 lewis fans stopped hating on y/n all of a sudden*

lewifan45 if he’s happy, i’m happy

sebastianvettel Congratulations! Finally the secret is out 😁

⤷ lewishamilton Thank you 🙌

ynfan44 need them both desperately!!!!!

ynfan45 i just know wag pages are having a field day

translations:

— brasil, eu te amo — brazil, i love you — bonitos — beauties

-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @goldenalbon @ravisinghs-wife @racingtrail @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpato @lecsainz @kkeels

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23fallencomets · 10 months ago

Text

chapter four!

this took a while ngl and it’s a bit longer than usual but that’s because there’s a sliver of plot. enjoy reading and i’ll try to figure out when the next update will be 💞💞

[twitter]

user39: anyway do you guys remember the blackout of 2023

user40: babes i can NAWT do this rn

user41: the year-long blackout of logan sargeant

user42: wait what

user43: logan was being hella mistreated by his first agency that we genuinely had no way of knowing anything about him

user43: we knew he was okay when he briefly showed up in a reel Fred had posted towards the end of the year

user42: logan sued and won his case against the agency and we try not to bring it up

[instagram]

logansargeant made a new post

!los angeles

liked by oscarpiastri, olliebearman and 125,490 more

logansargeant: back to the city i go

oscarpiastri: all the way across the country again

logansargeant: win in spain and i’ll attend the triple header

oscarpiastri: deal

user42: bro!??

olliebearman: pls take me with you

kimi.antonelli: aren’t you supposed to be asleep??

olliebearman: aren’t you??

user44: oh my god it’s loscar all over again

arthur_leclerc: can’t believe you didn’t want me to go with you

logansargeant: you have testing in italy

charles leclerc: is this why you were looking for flights to la???

arthur_leclerc: logan’s la apartment is really nice 😞

[twitter]

logansargeantoffical made a new tweet!

user45: alright who are we fighting this week

user46: is it because of what that bitchass company is saying

user47: his old model agency?? didn’t he sue them or something??

user48: yeah, he sued them mid-2023 and won in december of the same year

user49: logan i beg you to go batshit crazy pls pls pls

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

[twitter]

logansargeant made a new tweet!

logan snorts, only liam can grate oscar’s nerves like that. he’s thinking of a reply, wondering how far he can push his pr training. he doesn’t get to in the end, a message from his rep causing his heart to drop. the messages are half congratulatory and half concerned, but he’s more focused on the image.

logan turns his phone off, sliding it across the table and sighing. was he excited for the event? sure, he loves being able to support his community, even if he’s not openly out, his support has never been quiet.

the last thing he needed though, the very last thing on top of a mountain of responsibilities, was a blind item about him. the last one nearly ruined him and the very new and fresh relationship he had been in. despite things turning out okay, logan wasn’t and everything seems to come back to the stupid fucking account that nearly killed him.

his phone goes off, a one-two buzz before the continuous buzz of a call. he debates letting it ring before deciding against it and grabbing his phone.

the smiling picture of oscar gets him to answer it, holding the phone up to his ear.

“are you coming?” is the first thing oscar says, voice still thick with sleep. something tugs at logan, fondness, contentment and the ever-consuming knowledge that he’s horribly in love with his best friend.

“you made pole didn’t you.” logan says back, keeping his eyes on the laptop in front of him. it had gone dim while he contemplated his existence, the email he was in the middle of replying to ignored in favor to talk to oscar.

“mhm, don’t accept lawson’s offer.”

logan laughs, “lawson. you’re ridiculous, piastri.”

he can almost see oscar roll his eyes, “he’s lawson until he apologizes.”

“did you have to threaten him.”

oscar scoffs, “it wasn’t a threat, lolo, it was a promise.”

logan taps the touchbar of his laptop, saving the email reply before navigating his way to mark webber’s email address, cc’ing oscar on it.

“there’s a blind item about me.” he says quietly, “again.”

the call goes silent and logan knows that any residual sleep oscar had has been wiped. there’s rustling on the other side, the ping of oscar receiving the email does nothing to calm logan’s perpetual anxiety.

“god, like the last one wasn’t enough.” oscar snarks, “nearly six months of court visits and questionings and fuck-all investigations.”

2023 wasn’t a good year, half of it being because of Emmeris, the agency logan worked under. the nearly murderous hours, managers and employees that treated their guests like dolls, something to break down and mold to their liking. the other half was about the blind item, that logan was dating an indy driver, a childhood friend of his. the thing was that he was, the relationship itself last three more months before logan called it off. kyle called it dumb, but logan knew it would only be a matter of when it could follow him onto track.

“it’s about us,” logan adds on, “you’re the only one of our friends on the grid, liam and fred don’t count because they are reserve drivers.”

he can hear the cogs in oscar’s mind turn, always trying to be one step ahead, to navigate himself out of a car crash. the car crash in this situation being logan, again.

“let them think what they want.” oscar said, “we can talk about it when you get here, and we can face it together, just like we did last year.”

“with or without liam?”

oscar laughs, “without him this time, please, i do not want him hanging all over you again.”

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

logansargeant made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, liamlawson30 and 289,678 more

logansargeant: home

oscarpiastri: watch me win

logansargeant: literally sitting in the mclaren garage as i type this

liamlawson: when did you even take these???

logansargeant: said ‘cheese’ and you said to give you a minute and then you pulled out the guitar

arthurleclerc: i think you just hate me

logansargeant: always 💞

arthurleclerc: hope your fantasy team loses

logansargeant: you’ll wish ill on your brother

charles_leclerc: im on your fantasy team??

logansargeant: it’s ferrari

user50: so glad that logan has a support system

frederikvestiofficial: where’s my pic

logansargeant: in my heart (he kept throwing pillows at me)

[twitter]

#logan sargeant #f1 #williams racing #ls2 #model!logan sargeant #oscar piastri #liam lawson #frederik vesti #ollie bearman #andrea kimi antonelli #throwing the whole gang here #this took forever #praying for at least q2 #williams racing when i get my hands on you #f1 rpf smau #the loscar is no longer becoming vague #loscar WILL thrive #kyle kirkwood mention #creatures in heaven smau

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silver-the-pendejo · 11 days ago

Text

F1 Obssesed Reader :D

Reader x Linked Universe (mostly platonic and shennanigans) Yes, I made it heacanon's :D Reader is gender neutral No warnings except the FIA Words: 1874

You grew up watching Formula 1 religiously—blame your parents. They raised you on race weekends like it was gospel. While other kids watched cartoons, you were memorizing constructors’ standings and crying over tire compounds.

Your first words were probably “box box.” Your idea of bonding? Screaming at the TV over strategy failures with your parents. Now, you’re emotionally compromised whenever Ferrari gambles on hards.

Your loyalty to teams shifts based on your favorite driver, no questions asked. It’s not a betrayal; it’s just the natural flow of loyalty to drivers, not teams. “DRS is not cheating, you coward, it’s strategy!” You’ll die on that hill. Anyone who thinks DRS is cheating is absolutely wrong, and you’re ready to go toe-to-toe with them Don’t talk to you about Stroll or Lawson. If you hear their names in a conversation, you’ll go from calm and collected to unhinged in less than 5 seconds. Your temper flares, and the chaos unfolds. And don't even think about defending them. The conversation is over as soon as those names are mentioned. Somehow, you managed to build a full F1 car in Hyrule, using a mix of Sheikah tech and monster parts. It’s faster than anything anyone has seen before, and it doesn’t even look like it should be able to move as fast as it does. It’s loud, it’s terrifying, and half the Chain is terrified of it. "What did you even make? A monster?" Legend asks, more than a little shaken. You’re absolutely that person who can’t stop talking about F1 at any given moment. The Chain might be trying to make sense of your world, but you’re absolutely ranting about Leclerc’s tire management strategy one second, and the next minute, you’re throwing out statistics from Brazil 2022 like it’s your Bible. Everyone else might stare blankly, but you’re committed to the cause. "Okay, so... Max's pit stops were... chef’s kiss."

Arriving at hyrule

The first thing you ask upon landing in Hyrule—while still in shock and half-dazed from being ripped out of your world—is: “Wait—where’s the nearest Wi-Fi? The race starts in two hours.” The words come out like a reflex. There's no hesitation, no thinking through it. Is the end of a triple header, and you’re already panicking about missing it. A blond with heavy armor, who stands near you, blinks in confusion, clearly not understanding your urgency. “What starts?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. You, already in full-on panic mode, voice cracking from the stress, explain in an almost frantic tone: “THE. RACE. THE GRAND PRIX. I NEED TO SEE IF FERRARI SCREWS UP STRATEGY AGAIN—OR IF WE GET MORE THAN 2 DNF.” You’re frantically scanning the sky, the land, every corner for anything that might give you access to anything that might even remotely resemble a way to watch the race. The panic settles in, as your eyes flicker to the unfamiliar surroundings. A group of men surround you, most of them with sword’s on them, some weird as fuck ruins and nothing that looks even remotely like a screen or a signal tower. And then the horror hits. “Oh god, there is no Wi-Fi here, is it?”

You, on the verge of tears, completely losing it at the absurdity of the situation, shake your head in disbelief. “HOW CAN THIS WORLD EXIST WITHOUT WI-FI? WITHOUT RACE COVERAGE? HOW CAN I WATCH MY BOYS RACE?!” Your brain is racing faster than an F1 car with the DRS on. You start pacing, tugging at your hair as the reality sets in: you might actually miss the race of your life. (Every race is the race of your life so you are exagerating a bit) The group of men just stares, slightly stepping away from you.

Race weekends are back

After weeks—weeks—of being with the Chain, adapting to a medieval world with zero Wi-Fi and even less understanding of modern technology, you’d nearly given up. You’d mourned every missed Grand Prix like a funeral, cried into Twilight’s shoulder over Ferrari’s probable strategy disasters, and screamed into the sky with such emotional fury that even Legend considered sending a prayer to Hylia on your behalf.

But then… salvation.

💡 The breakthrough came when Wild, bored and probably half-feral, wandered back to camp one evening with a ruined piece of Sheikah tech.

“I found this near the Zonai ruins. Think you can do anything with it?” You, already halfway into a rant about how Red Bull had to be sandbagging again, paused—snatched the relic like it was holy—and immediately got to work.

What followed was weeks of chaotic tinkering. You begged Four for help with the circuitry. You bribed Warriors into finding monster parts to enhance the range. You threatened Wild with no cuddle privileges unless he fetched more ancient screws.

And finally—finally—after your hands were blistered and your nerves shot, it happened.

The crystal blue flicker of a bootleg screen powered by Sheikah energy.

Static.

A signal.

And then—

The lights went out.Five red lights.And GO GO GO—

You screamed. The guys panicked.Twilight drew his sword. Wind fell off a tree branch. Wild dropped a plate.

Legend, deadpan: “What fresh demon is this?”

You were crying.

“I’M WATCHING THE RACE! I’M BACK, BABY!”

Wind

Thinks F1 is the coolest thing ever.

Constantly asks you to explain the rules, the overtakes, the tire strategies. He’s obsessed. He doesn’t always get it, but damn it, he’s trying.

You let him watch a replay once. Now he’s emotionally invested in every driver you support.

“Wait—WHY are they putting hards on?! Did Ferrari do the stupid again?!”

Fully joins in on your rants. He’s the ultimate hype man. Absolute chaos duo.

Time

Is constantly confused, but so supportive in the “I-don’t-know-what-this-means-but-I’ll-pretend-I-care” dad way.

“So… this driver… he’s fast?”

Nods politely when you go off on tire strategies, but he zones out after 30 seconds.

Thinks DRS is some form of ancient dark magic. You almost cried explaining it to him.

Confiscated your Sheikah stone once when you tried to stream a race during a meting with Lullaby

Legend

Hates how much he loves watching you rant about F1.

“You care this much about people driving in circles?”

Purposely mispronounces driver names just to get under your skin.

“Ler-clerk?”

“It’s Leclerc, you absolute walnut—”

But, deep down, he’s keeping track of the races just so he can fight you with actual race facts.

Will never admit he’s invested. But, oh, he is.

Twilight

Doesn’t fully understand F1, but he loves how passionate you are about it.

He listens to you ramble about constructors and tire degradation like you’re reciting an ancient prophecy.

“Ferrari did what?” he’ll say with a wicked grin, just to get you going again.

Sits next to you during replays. You scream, he nods.

You once cried during a driver radio message, and without a second thought, he handed you his pelt.

“I don’t understand it… but I’m here.”

Sky

Tried to understand DRS using bird metaphors. It did not help.

“Wait… the wings… open? Is it safe? It doesn’t sound safe—”

Always looks mildly horrified when you’re yelling at the screen. He’s concerned about your blood pressure, honestly.

Once tried to stop you from watching a race while you were sick. You nearly bit him.

Brings you tea and sits quietly next to you on race days, just in case you need someone to hold your hand when Ferrari inevitably disappoints you.

Warriors

Loves the drama. Does not care about the technical stuff.

“Wait, there’s sabotage? Political tension? Broken hearts and break walls?”

Treats every race like a soap opera.

“So this Charles guy—you love him, but he breaks your heart weekly?”

Gasps dramatically when someone retires from the race. Over-the-top reactions every single time.

Made you a jersey (after you explained what it was) with his own fake team name on it. It says “Team Handsome.”

Wild

Thinks the races are fun, but he’s here for the adrenaline rush.

You talk about “traction” and he’s nodding while doing donuts in your Sheikah kart in the backyard.

Doesn’t really understand your loyalty shifting between team's, but he respects it.

“So… we hate Red Bull this week? Cool. Noted.”

Got emotionally attached to a rookie driver once and now asks about them every race.

Hyrule

Tried so hard to understand it for you, but quickly gave up. Instead, he just brings you snacks.

Thinks the tire colors are for fun.

“Why are the soft ones red? Are they angrier?”

Watches you stress and yells “GO GO GO!” with absolutely no clue who’s racing.

Brings you a blanket when you scream at the Sheikah tablet because you’re cold and mad at Ferrari’s strategy.

Four

Once you explained “DRS is not cheating,” he immediately somehow built you a wooden model of an F1 car to demonstrate airflow.

Now he’s obsessed with F1, but from a mechanics standpoint.

He constantly asks you for more data, graphs, stats. Has a whole journal dedicated to qualifying times.

You: “Why are you like this?”

Him: “I just want to understand why your blood boils when someone pits too late.”

Once rebuilt the suspension system on your Sheikah car just to see if it would help with tire degradation. He’s in it for the science.

Bonus (a.k.a. Unhinged Quotes)

“If I had a dollar for every time F1 broke my heart, I’d have enough money to buy Sauber and fix the team myself.”

“FERRARI STRATEGY IS RUN BY MICE. MICE I TELL YOU. THEY PUT HIM ON HARD TYRES WHEN THE TRACK WAS LITERALLY MELTING.”

“This is what Lewis meant when he said ‘Still we rise.’ I’m rising. And I’m speeding.”

“I once bit a kid who said Mazepin was better than Mick. I regret nothing.”

“Fuck Lance Stroll. That man drives like he’s trying not to spill his iced coffee.”

"I have seen Deku Scrubs with more pace. I have seen CUCCOS with better spatial awareness."

“If Ferrari just listened to their own drivers, maybe they wouldn’t finish P6 every time.”

“Every week I think Charles is going to win and every week he gets violated by a tire call.”

“Why are the only people with a working brain in the Mercedes garage the coffee machine and Toto?”

“TWILIGHT, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND—CHECO DEFENDED FOR HIS LIFE IN ABU DHABI. HE’S A WALL. HE’S A SAINT. HE’S A DAMN MEXICAN MINOTAUR.”

“My kink is pit stops under 2 seconds. If you don’t get it, you’re weak.”

“I will never forgive the FIA for how they handled Abu Dhabi 2021. If they had just given me 5 minutes with the rulebook, we wouldn’t have had half the controversy.”

“I swear, if Ferrari gets another ‘strategic’ pit stop call during the race, I’m throwing my tablet out the window. Call it a ‘technical DNF’ on my part.”

“Ferrari’s strategy is like playing poker... but with no cards. No chips. And also, they’re blindfolded.”

“If the FIA had a brain cell, it would get lost in the parking lot.”

“If I had a penny for every time the FIA messed up a race, I’d own a private jet and buy out the sport. Then, I’d fire half the stewards.”

"If I were Checo, I’d have swerved into Max just a little. Just a smidge. A friendly little love tap… at 300 km/h."

“MAX VERSTAPPEN�� REFUSED TO GIVE CHECO P6… AND FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT, MAXIMILIAN? A CHILI CHEESEBURGER?”

“Max won’t give Checo DRS but he WILL look at him like he’s the last Red Bull can in the fridge. Be so for real.”

I drop this here and go bullshit my way out of class, also ALMOST END OF SEMSETEEER RAAAAH. Also yes, this is because im gonna be put in withdrawal since not race next weekend Ok i dissapear to finish my projects and to droll over my food As always inbox is open, and yes person that is there waiting rn u are next :D LU Masterlist

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #x reader #f1 au #Linked Universe X Formula 1 #crack fic #headcanons

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