#i’m glad you enjoy the fact | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miraclewoozi · 1 year ago

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no because literally though. what part of being an adult and paying taxes means ive gotta lose my ability to make a blanket fort 😖

ELECTRIC. - y.jh

your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms.

pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)

smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.

the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.

jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows.

(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)

“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”

your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.”

he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.

“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”

he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for.

in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy.

you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.

“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”

you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying.

“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”

he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter.

“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”

but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.

“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”

begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.

jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him.

he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.

“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.

“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”

“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”

he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable.

“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”

“jeonghan–”

“y/n.”

the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)

but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.

“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”

“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”

there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.

“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.

“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”

“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.

he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.

“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.

somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.

“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”

“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him.

“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you.

“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”

jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”

“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”

“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”

you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)

“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had.

every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.

oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…

“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…

“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway.

he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request.

“please stay with me.”

if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away.

“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow.

“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”

“a what?”

“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.

“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”

“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”

he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale.

“fine. you’re building it, though.”

you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.

“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.

“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”

a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable.

you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.

you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.

and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?

there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.

but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation.

with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.

you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.

a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.

“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.

“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.

you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–

“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”

“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”

“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”

“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god –

…and heaven above, the penny drops.

jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.

therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.

“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”

“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”

“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?

“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”

“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”

boom.

and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.

you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –

“okay, wait. hear me out.”

to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.

“i can help you.”

your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.

“you don’t have to–”

“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”

“hannie…”

“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”

if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.

“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”

he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.

you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.

“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs.

“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours.

“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”

you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin.

“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”

“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.

now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.

of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.

“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.

but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?

“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”

“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”

you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”

“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.

you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.

“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.

“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”

well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.

“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes.

“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”

“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for.

he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.

“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”

“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?”

and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.

“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”

to his credit, he does.

and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.

the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.

within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)

every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along?

sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.

“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”

“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”

“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.

by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.

“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies.

“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”

you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.

“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser.

what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.

“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is.

“yes to what?”

“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.

you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’.

saved for really important promises.

“to next time.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

#srb #fb : electric.#m 🚀#(pls let me know if u want a different emoji I’m just currently on a rocketline spiral ;-; xox)#thank you so much for always being here and supporting the stuff I write. I literally can’t explain how happy I get seeing your url in #my notifications 😭🫶#you’re always so sweet im so glad you enjoyed this one too :(#jeonghan who rolls out of bed because standing up is too hard but would run a marathon for pussy is in fact my favourite genre of jeonghan #my wonderful little menace. i love him 😔#pls take good care of yourself and have a lovely weekend 🥹 you mean!!! a lot!!!!!! to me!!!!!!!!

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hollandsangel · 8 months ago

Text

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,”

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song.

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second.

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous.

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter.

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense.

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course.

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer.

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction.

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second.

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,”

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt struniolo x you #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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explicit-tae · 9 months ago

Note

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!” Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking.

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog.

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to.

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming.

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely.

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him.

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had.

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him.

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions.

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands.

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you.

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes.

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.”

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch.

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed.

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip.

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him.

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become.

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching.

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more.

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you.

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips.

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave.

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue.

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious.

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted.

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching.

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely.

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content.

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly.

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed.

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held.

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start.

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure.

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend.

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you.

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #bts cheating #explicit-tae #lick back #bangtanwriters net #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #jungkook imagine #bts affair au

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sparklingchim · 2 months ago

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game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

#jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader

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fireinmoonshot · 3 months ago

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the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!

“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.

Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.

“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”

They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”

“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”

It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts.

You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.

He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.

“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.

With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”

Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.

“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.

Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”

You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”

“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.

By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder.

“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”

You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate.

“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”

Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”

“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”

He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”

“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”

From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.

“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”

You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased.

“Ty?”

He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”

“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”

Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”

The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research.

You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”

“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”

Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”

Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”

“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”

He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”

You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder.

“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot.

“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.

You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.

You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others.

“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.

It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”

Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.”

You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing.

“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.”

“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.

“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”

You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on.

It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck.

He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.

“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.

You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.

“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries.

But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.

The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you.

“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.

Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.

When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.

You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”

You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.

“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”

You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.”

“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”

Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.

Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”

You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door.

“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”

You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore.

Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”

“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.”

You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange.

“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.

Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”

You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”

You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself.

It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.

“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”

You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.

“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”

“I wasn’t flirting–”

“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”

You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”

For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide.

“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.

You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.

He frowns. “Why is that?”

You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”

As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are.

“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.

You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before.

“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.

You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain.

“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes.

You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”

Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”

“You’d do that?”

He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”

“And what you said over the radio this morning?”

“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”

Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”

You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.

“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.

Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”

You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”

“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”

#twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfic

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reidrum · 4 months ago

Text

hit me baby one more time | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: i have no explanation for this i just really want spencer to fuck me in a mini skirt. this was also fueled by me listening to baby one more time on repeat for the last week so enjoy my horny thoughts hehe

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v sex, munch!spencer, blowjobs, soft!dom!spence the loml, praise kink, spanking, suggestive dancing, kissing, afab reader, reader wears the outfit from the baby one more time mv (skirt and bra), i picture s11 spence so don’t mind the inconsistencies, idk if kirk actually wears a tie i am a star wars girlie not star trek, lowkey perv spence at the end but i would do the same tbh

summary: halloween brings spencer joy in many ways, this year he finds a new, and super fucking hot, reason to love the holiday more

wc: 3.3k

___________

spencer loved halloween. this was a known fact by many, he loved the lore behind the holiday, loved dressing up as his favorite characters, and loved playing tricks on morgan and jj around the office.

spencer also loved halloween because he gets to see you. not that he didn’t see you on a daily basis in the office or on the field catching killers, but in a state where you were carefree and didn’t have to worry about the behavior patterns of a psychopath.

in past years spencer has dressed up as different versions of the doctor (still claiming his tenth doctor costume was the best, because it was your favorite), the hobbit from lord of the rings, and nosferatu (to the dismay of morgan’s very scared reaction). you would go a more pop culture route, dressing up as characters from recent movies and shows including barbie, the scarlet witch, and wednesday adams.

he loved being able to tell you the lore of the different characters he was and he loved listening to you explaining the cultural significance and impact that barbie had on society. he could listen to you talk about literal garbage, actually, and still be hanging onto your every word.

what he loved the most, however, was your choice of costume tonight at the karaoke bar the team was out at.

for halloween this year you decided to go with a more nostalgic costume. clad in a black mini skirt, tied up white button up showing your tummy and just the right amount of cleavage to have your hot pink bra pop out, gray cardigan, knee high socks and mary janes, you were the spitting image of britney spears in the baby one more time music video. complete with the ribbon entwined pigtails.

the moment you walked in the bar, spencer knew he was utterly and absolutely fucked.

morgan knew about spencer’s infatuation with you, because, he’s morgan and spencer’s not subtle. so when he watched spencer’s mouth hang open like a beckoning for flies to land in, all he could do was pat him firmly on the back and say, “good luck, kid.”

he watched you walk over to the table the team had claimed, making your rounds at saying hi and hugging everyone. he was last, and when you reached up on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck he had no choice (lie) but to rest his hands at your hips while his thumbs brushed the bare skin of your stomach. he also had no choice (still, a lie) but to be deathly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo and perfume as you placed your head in the crook of his neck.

“hi spence! your costume looks so cool, i love how it turned out. were you able to find what you needed at that store i told you about?” you bubbled happily.

it took spencer about ten whole seconds of staring at you (and definitely not at your chest) to realize that you were asking him something and tried to quickly (embarrassingly) recover, “um, yeah no i was! she knew so much about star trek and was super helpful, she told me how much she loves seeing you in the store.”

you giggle, “i’m glad admiral kirk, she’s a sweet old thing.”

he should be ashamed at how you calling him that went straight to his crotch.

“y- you also look great, who are you supposed to be?”

“i’m britney spears! in the baby one more time music video?”, you’re met with a blank stare, “spence, we have to educate you better on the true icons of our time.” you playfully grab his forearm.

he laughs nervously at your joke and the contact and proceeds to down half his beer in one gulp. thank god garcia comes out of nowhere to gush over your outfit, “oh my god girl, you look so hot. you have to get up there and sing it, it’s only right!”

“let me get a few shots in first and then i’ll see, penny” you chuckle back.

after about two shots you were already feeling loose, whatever anxiety you had about tonight dissipated as the alcohol overtook your bloodstream. truth be told, you had a super secret mission up your sleeve.

you would be a terrible profiler if you didn’t notice the way spencer changed whenever he was in your company, and it never made you feel uncomfortable. you only craved his attention even more, and it made your crush on him run even deeper. he was kind and smart and caring. and undeniably sexy. you knew for a fact he wanted you too, and you were determined to make him do something about it tonight.

knowing spencer hasn’t seen the music video therefore not knowing why the schoolgirl outfit, it turned you on even more knowing he was going to lose his goddamn mind after you were done. the plan was already rolling in your brain as you sauntered up to the karaoke stage and got ready to put on a show.

the beginning beats of the song play and you get a couple of cheers and “let’s go, baby!” from the crowd and your team— sans spencer, who was hanging on your every move as you started swaying your hips.

“my loneliness, is killing me. and i-i-i. i must confess, i still believe, still believe.” you sing and dance the choreography to the song you know so well.

“when i’m not with you, i lose my mind.” you make direct eye contact with spencer, and are more than excited to see him locked in on you too.

you decide to kick your plan up a notch, and walk off the stage mic in hand towards the bau’s table, earning many cheers and phones capturing the moment. you play up the theatrics a little by getting emily and jj to sing along with you, morgan and rossi leaning into you as you wrapped your arms around their shoulders.

“give me a si-i-i-ign,” you’ve reached spencer, and the last step in your plan.

your finger leaves featherlight touches around his shoulders and across his collarbone as you stand behind his chair. a flat hand trails down his chest closer to the bulge in his pants, spencer’s eyes widening at the gesture. your hand reaches the final destination at the base of tie, and you pull it so he’s looking up at you directly.

“hit me baby one more time.” you finish with the biggest smirk, never breaking eye contact with spencer. the cheers and claps became louder but all you could focus on were the deep breaths he was taking to compose himself. you give him a wink as you hand the mic back to the stage guy and walk back to him to sit on his lap.

“you don’t mind, do you? all the seats are taken,” you smirk as you feel his hard on through your lace panties, “plus i really want to hear what you thought about my performance.” you finish whispering in his ear. he shudders in your hold, but the feeling of your ass weighing on the place he needs you the most, his primal instincts take over and suddenly he has a boost of confidence.

he lifts your head so his mouth is right on the crest of your ear, “how about i show you what your performance did to me?” he shifts a little and lightly thrusts up into your clothed core and you let out a small gasp. luckily the team had all but dispersed throughout the bar, getting drinks or dancing, so no one has to be privy to your conversation.

the glint in your eyes was all the confirmation he needed. you stood up slowly with his tie still wrapped around your fingers, and you pull it over your shoulder so he would trail behind you as you walked. spencer followed you like a dog getting tugged by a leash, literally, and stumbles at first when you pull him but he quickly regains his composure as you navigate through the crowds, placing his hands on your waist protectively.

you end up in front of the women’s bathroom and spencer doesn’t hesitate to push the doors open and lead you inside. it was one of those single person bathroom with no other stalls, but it was definitely one of the more nicer bathrooms you’d been in. the maroon pattern of the wall adding to the sultry vibe you’re setting, not to mention a spacious countertop for the sink and amenities.

the possibilities of what was going to happen run wild in your brain, only being pulled out of it by the sharp lock of the door and the feeling of strong hands snaking around your waist again.

you look up to meet his eyes in the mirror and watch spencer fiddle with the edge of your button up, “i don’t think i told you how much i really like your costume.”

“yeah?” you lean back in his touch, “what do you like about it?”

he moves his hands to the middle of your chest, “well, i like how soft the blouse is,” he deftly undoes the knot, “and i really like the color you got on underneath.” he lets the ends of the shirt fall to your side and slides his hands up to cup your breasts through your lace bra, massaging them gently.

you let out a half gasp-moan, “what else?”

“this skirt is really cute, fits you well.” he hums while he smooths over the front close to your core, leaning down to press love bites into your neck.

you turn around in his embrace to face him, lay your hands flat on his chest, and look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster, “want to see what’s underneath it?”

the ghost of a smirk lies on his face and he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. his hand cups your cheek closer to him while his other one grips your ass and lower back.

his tongue slots between yours as he deepens the kiss, and he reaches down to the backs of your thighs to lift you up onto the counter. your legs open up instinctively and he steps in between them letting his hand run up the plush of your thigh to the band of your panties. he toys with the lace pattern of it before he detaches his lips and pulls the skirt all the way up.

he slowly sinks to his knees, never breaking eye contact with you as he whispers, “this is definitely my favorite costume on you.” he’s face to face with your pink panty covered pussy and he lets out a groan when he notices the wet spot in the center. he tentatively traces a finger up and down your slit, gauging your reactions.

soft whimpers fall from your mouth as you let out a whiny, “spencer…”

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna take care of you.” he coos, “lift your hips.” you oblige as he gently pulls your panties down and stuffs them in his back pocket. his large hands push your legs apart, giving him better access as he tugs you closer to the edge and leans in to draw a long stripe up your core with his tongue.

you let out a high pitched moan at the contact, bracing yourself on the counter with your palms flat down. his tongue draws shapes on you and you feel his finger prodding around your hole before plunging in, driving you straight to delirium.

the sensations begin to overwhelm you and you feel the peak rising in your gut. you tangle your hands in his curls, “pl- please don’t stop.” you whimper.

he groans into your pussy and you feel the vibration sent throughout your entire body, enough to push you over the edge and let the white hot overtake you. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers or his tongue as he drags out your orgasm for as long as you’ll take it, before you’re yanking him by his hair off of your core and up to your face to kiss him dumb.

the salty taste of you lingers on his lips as you grab his face with both hands and keep him close to you. he lets out a whimper when you tug his hair again, and you smirk as you break the kiss to slide off the counter and drop to your knees. you quickly undo the clasp of his belt, the sound of his zipper going down making spencer’s heartbeat go faster.

the size of his bulge through his boxers was intimidating but it only spurred your desire to please him more. you look up at him and offer an innocent smile as you lean forward to pull back the fabric of his boxers with your teeth and let it fall back into place with a snap.

the impact caused spencer to moan out loud, and he watched with bated breath while you slowly tugged his boxers down to let his cock spring free. you let out a tiny gasp, “spencer…i never knew you were so pretty.”

his preening turns into a sharp moan as you take in the head of his length into your mouth. swirling your tongue around like a lollipop. you lay your tongue flat on the underside of his cock and slowly let it enter your throat until your nose is flush with his tummy and you’re gagging to keep him inside.

“ho-o-ly shit, fuck.” spencer groans when he looks down to see his whole length down your throat and your eyes bulging with tears at the fullness in your mouth. he wishes he had a photographic memory so he could engrave the vision of you on your knees for him in his brain forever.

you retract back and start bobbing your head on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you couldn’t easily fit in your mouth. expletives and moans fall from him every millisecond, the feeling being so irrepressible that after a minute spencer had to pry you off him so he didn’t finish in your mouth.

“what, too much?” you grin mischievously, dragging your thumb across your bottom lip to wipe the spit.

his heavy breathing is the only answer you got as he turns your body around to face the mirror, and bends you down at the waist to lean your upper body on the counter. he flips your skirt up so your ass is on display for him and draws his hand back to give your right ass cheek a big smack.

you moan out languishly and he lets out a small chuckle, “kinky, are we?”

“you’re the one who spanked me.”

he bends down to whisper in your ear, “yeah, but you liked it. i can feel you getting wetter.” his fingers return to your core to spread the new wetness onto his cock before aligning it at your entrance. he slowly pushes in, stretching you out bewitchingly. he breaks his gaze from where you connect to look back into the mirror, and god, is he so fucking glad he did.

your face is beautifully fucked out, eyes glistening with tears about to fall over, cheeks flushed, eyebrows furrowed, your arms pressed so perfectly against the sides of your chest your breasts are threatening to spill out of your bra.

“god, you look like a dream,” spencer whispers from behind as he begins thrusting into you. you moan back in response and push back on his cock to meet his thrusts. the noise of your hips meeting and him sliding in and out of you filled the bathroom.

“i’m so close, fuck, oh my god.” you whine pathetically. spencer can’t help but smugly grin in response, “already? it can’t be over that fast, hold it.”

you gasp out, “i can’t, please, i need to come.”

he wraps one arm around the front of stomach to hoist you up and uses the other hand to tug on your pigtails to lean your head back towards him, “you’ll come when i say you can. you’re my good girl, right? gonna show me how good you can be for me?” he whispers hotly in your ear.

a loud moan escapes your throat as you try to keep your composure and hold your orgasm at bay. his precise and timed thrusts doing nothing to help you, you feel yourself starting to float away, becoming so cockdrunk off of spencer you can barely keep yourself conscious.

“almost there, pretty girl. you’re doing so well, ‘m so proud of you.”

you make the mistake of looking back up at the mirror, becoming grossly entrapped by the image of spencer pounding into you from behind and his equally fucked out face tucked into your neck, “spence…baby, please.”

he whines at the pet name and finally gives in, “okay princess, you can come now.” your second orgasm of the night ravages through you, leaving nothing behind but thoughts of spencer. he continues fucking you through your peak, chasing his own release to come shortly after.

“fuck, i’m close. where d- do you want me to..?” he stutters.

“in my mouth.” you breath out.

he groans out loud, “on your knees.”

he pulls out of you and you immediately drop to your knees, not hesitating to take his length into your mouth and using both hands to pump the remaining. spencer puts a hand on the back of your head and guides you to thrust onto his cock until he lets out another stuttered groan, spurts of his release coating the inside of your mouth.

you make sure to get every last drop of him down your throat, seductively sliding your mouth off his cock with a resounding pop. you’re breathing heavily and you remain on your knees as you try to remember what fucking world you’re even in. spencer grabs you by the forearms to pull you back up to him, and gently perches you back on the counter noting you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own anyway.

spencer breathes hotly into your face, his hand coming up to caress your cheek and brush a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. his other hand remains on your waist, drawing soothing circles. you grin widely, and spencer notices and matches your smile without hesitation.

“what?” he laughs lightly.

“nothing, it’s just it looks like my plan worked.” you replied.

“and what was this plan of yours?” he grins.

“well, i just wanted you hot and bothered. i did not expect you to fuck me in a bar bathroom,” he blushes at your admission, “plus, you don’t even shake people’s hands. i definitely thought having sex in a public place, let alone the bathroom of a bar, would be so not your style.”

“i think if you keep wearing outfits like this around me,” he gestures to your disarrayed button up and bra, “you’ll be surprised at what i’d be willing to do.”

“so, is this a good time to tell you that britney has other music video outfits that are just as iconic as this one?” you gleam up at him.

his eyebrows raise in curiosity, “it certainly would be. on a totally unrelated note, i’m parked right out front.” he half jokes as he pulls you off the counter towards the door. you giggle and follow blindly behind him, when your eyes draw to the back pocket of his trousers and you notice a flash of hot pink.

“spencer! my panties, oh my god. give them back.”

he looks over his shoulder at you, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he feigns. you roll your eyes and let him have it, totally ignoring the way he shoves the panties further down his pocket out of sight.

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