#i'm making this post because i was just in the car looking out the window | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theragethatisdesire · 2 years ago

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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.”

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin.

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it.

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch.

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren yaeger x you #eren yeager smut #aot fanfiction #eren jaeger fic #eren jaeger fanfiction

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

passion for fashion | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem it girl!reader

she's everything and he's just ken (in a red bull shirt)

MASTERLIST | TIPS | MY SMALL BUSINESS

vogue

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 490,233 others

tagged: yourusername

vogue: it's the start of the f1 season, you know what that means... y/n y/ln fashion season is in session

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user1: @yourusername make sure you're windows are bolted shut tongiht... you're on my rob list

user2: and mine PLEASE SPARE ME SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES

user3: her and lewis hamilton are the only real ones in that paddock

user4: the way they're still besties despite what went down in 2021 >>>

lewishamilton: me and y/n 🤝 making the paddock our runway

yourusername: someone has to make it interesting around here

lewishamilton: see @maxverstappen1 even y/n is bored of you winning everything...

maxverstappen1: womp womp

lewishamilton: womp womp ???? have some decorum

maxverstappen1: jokes on you i don't know what that means

user5: i wish i looked that good candidly

user6: at what point do we stage an intervention for max's wardrobe

user7: babe if the girlfriend effect still hasn't hit then it's terminal

user8: especially when your girlfriend is Y/N Y/LN

maxverstappen1: i'd do anything for her <3

yourusername: even wear something other than red bull merch?

maxverstappen1: let's not get too far ahead of ourselves

user9: i love them your honour

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,445 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: max verstappen wins, water is wet

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user11: water is wet and i will be drowning myself in it tonight

user12: me after hearing the dutch national anthem one too many times

landonorris: tell him he has too many already and he should let his best friend have a go

yourusername: he said that's not possible because i don't know how to drive an f1 car

landonorris: nuh uh you can't be his best friend and his girlfriend that's not fair

maxverstappen1: welp, idk what to tell you buddy

landonorris: i feel BETRAYED

yourusername: i'm sorry i'm just that loveable lando... i see how it is

landonorris: HOW HAVE I BECOME THE VILLAIN?

user13: max terrorises them on the grid and in the paddock they maximise their joint slay to terrorise everyone in a two mile radius

user14: they slay so much i can't even be angry at it

danielricciardo: so that's why i was kicked out of the elevator

yourusername: you weren't kicked out it was your floor?

danielricciardo: why did i not make the post? I THOUGHT I MEANT MORE TO YOU

maxverstappen1: just because we both had teenage crushes on you doesn't make you special. you'd have to fight seb and jenson for real special treatment

yourusername: throw fernando and kimi in there as well.

danielricciardo: i was confident in my fighting chances, but i'll leave nando and kimi to it

maxverstappen1: pussy

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME

yourusername: idk how we got here but don't talk to my boyf that way daniel 😔

danielricciardo: i'm blocking both of you

user15: i am so baffled

user16: IT couple for real

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,448 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: clocked in for my shift as the trophy husband to the prettiest girl in the world

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user17: max verstappen why is there a whisper meme in your photo dump

user18: his ass acting like he wasn't at one of the most prestigious galas in the world

charles_leclerc: YOU got an invite and that's the best you could do

maxverstappen1: you better take that back right now y/n dressed me tonight and i look SEXY and COOL

yourusername: charles :( he looks very handsome

charles_leclerc: my bad y/n i wasn't aware that was your pick

yourusername: SAY HE'S HANDSOME CHARLES

charles_leclerc: ??? no

yourusername: wow. you really aren't a girls girl charles. i am disappointed

maxverstappen1: does our history mean nothing charles? i have no issue recreating the inchident at the next race

charles_leclerc: FINE. you look very handsome max

yourusername: more passion please

charles_leclerc: you look very handsome max!

yourusername: more! give the lestappen girlies some crumbs to feed on

charles_leclerc: YOU LOOK VERY HANDSOME

maxverstappen1: thank you 😊

user19: ignoring what ever the fuck that was ... MAX IN A SUIT WHAT THE FUCK MAX IN A SUIT

user20: y/n y/ln the woman you are

user21: so how can we implement this willingness to wear a suit into his paddock fashion

lewishamilton: you might have to waterboard him

charles_leclerc: i volunteer as tribute !

yourusername: 🤨

maxverstappen1: 🤨

f1paddockfashion

liked by user24, user25 and 11,029 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & yourusername

f1paddockfashion: max verstappen in non-red bull attire? MAX VERSTAPPEN IN NON-RED BULL ATTIRE? also y/n slaying as per.

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user24: this is - i don't know how to feel

user25: maybe the real max verstappen in non red-bull attire was the friends we made along the way

user26: i am CELEBRATING but ladies do remember it's still alpha tauri 😭😭😭

user27: please let us have this while we can

user28: it's not plastered with sponsors so we'll take it

user29: idk about you guys but i think this means y/n should be knighted for her services

user30: i actually think prying the red bull merch out of max's hands might be the hardest thing in the world

user31: call me crazy but those jeans look kinda baggy 😳

user32: omg they definitely are

user33: death to the skinny jeans? fuck it first child named after y/n

user34: can we maybe get y/n in charge of max's merch cause the shit he sells should be considered criminal

user35: for real we need babe in the board room asap

user36: fuck it get her in the red bull board room as well

user37: go all the way and get her with the f1 execs

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,506,339 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i love him even if all he wears is red bull

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user39: so ... who made the inchident shirt?

charles_leclerc: and how do i get one?

maxverstappen1: i got it made and considering you DON'T think i'm handsome you can go fuck yourself :)

charles_leclerc: GASP. that is my face you have to make me one

maxverstappen1: boooooo no i don't

charles_leclerc: can i copyright my face? i'm sending you a cease and desist

maxverstappen1: fine. but you will never look as hot as y/n in it

charles_leclerc: so you can call me ugly? @yourusername ???

yourusername: it was a compliment to me so soz

user40: the way she's fashion's IT girl and she still loves him even though his whole wardrobe should be burned

user41: real love

maxverstappen1: i love you. i wear my red bull merch to give you the runway

yourusername: sureeeee ... i love you too xx

maxverstappen1: let me live 😭😭😭

yourusername: the girls are dragging your name babe i need them to know HOW SEXY YOU ARE

maxverstappen1: i don't care how sexy they find me, as long as you love me that's all i need

yourusername: you're SO FUCKING CUTE I LOVE YOU

maxverstappen1: I LOVE YOU TOO

user42: can they chill? some people on here are lonely

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,033,461 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: my closet looks like this, so her's can look like this :)

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user43: max verstappen i misunderstood you. i was unfamiliar with your game.

user44: he's the standard now i fear

user45: a man who wears the same three outfits so you can have the whole walk-in for your collection >>

yourusername: thank you babe. you are god's strongest soldier

maxverstappen1: i AM. that room is scary. there's too much that i don't understand. so many shoes, so many straps i can't navigate it

yourusername: that's okay baby. there's your red bull draw and that's all you need

maxverstappen1: no the people don't understand. i went in there once and i swear i ended up in narnia

yourusername: you passed out with the AC on the highest level and jimmy and sassy sat on you. you were not in narnia

maxverstappen1: oh. well...

user46: this is the closet y/n deserves the rest of that house is defo a mojo dojo casa house

user47: fighting all the trophies, helmets and framed race suits with her narnia closet

lilymunhe: may i request a trip to the narnia closet x

yourusername: omg yes! come over next time you and alex are in monaco - the boys can entertain themselves

alexalbon: what if i want a closet tour as well?

maxverstappen1: don't do it alex you'll never find your way back out

alexalbon: (i was going to strategically leave a pair of albon athletics shoes in there)

yourusername: alex i already own a pair i bought them release day!

alexalbon: OMG ... one instagram pic so my sales can go platinum?

maxverstappen1: don't try and pimp my gf out

alexalbon: ???

yourusername: max 😭 and sure alex!

fin.

note: thank you for reading soz for the long waits between posts a girl has been BUSY but i hope you've all enjoyed! happy galentines day or palentines day to all that celebrate and thanks for 4.7k!! xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen social media au

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colorlessjay · 8 days ago

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Same anon here but also it would be Funny for Cas to blow out the lightbulbs in the bunker when they kiss for the first time and there's Distant Sam Yelling

"Back to the Future" AU BONUS ART

I always imagined their first kiss would be softer

Something done in private between the two of them, chaste and maybe even shy from both parties. For Dean because this is his first relationship with a man (Angel. Celestial wave length). For Cas because he's still unsure about how to handle such intense human emotions and Dean's softer behavior towards him

So their first kiss? I don't imagine sparks flying

No. I imagine a few shy pecks, goofy smiles, and soft laughs as they (mostly Dean) realizes how silly it must look for two men in their 40s (thousands of years old) to be kissing and giggling like shy teenagers in the privacy the bunker kitchen

The sparks happen when Dean decides to surprise his boyfriend

Teem Free Will 3.0 are at the beach for that well deserved vacation. Sam and Eileen are having an (unfair) chicken fight in the water with Donna and Clair, The rest of the wayward sisters are having a competitive volleyball match (That's getting very intense) while Castiel is standing off to the side with Jody, talking and observing their band of misfits.

Dean brought a grill and beer cooler and is making a hefty meal for everyone, all the while Jack is having way too much fun with the Polaroid he bought from the near by gift shop, documenting their official first 'day off'

It's in the middle of the day when Dean suddenly calls for Cas to come over, Jack hovering close by, Polaroid held up excitedly

"Do you need me to get more beer?" Castiel asks as he finds himself at Dean's side

"Nope. Just needed this" And without much fanfare, Dean wraps his arm around Cas's shoulders and brings him close to a smushed kissed on the cheek

This is the first time Dean has ever done such a bold display of public affection, and the sudden show of love makes Castiel's grace sing

It sang so loudly that the lens and flash of Jack's camera explodes along with several beer bottles around them. The fire in the grill bursts high, the volleyball pops midair, and thunder claps through the clear blue sky, joining the noise of car alarms going off in the parking lot

Cas was sure the gift shop windows and lights might've been destroyed too

"... A little dramatic for a cheek kiss, but I'm flattered"

The little stunt becomes a running joke for years, even after marriage. Dean was all too happy to remind Cas of the day

Though, despite the humiliation, Cas is glad Jack managed to capture the moment

And that moment Cas looks fondly at whenever he happens to look into Dean's wallet

--------------

Sorry for not having posted in a while! I just opened Artistree for the first time and didn't expect to get commissions so quickly haha

#destiel #castiel #supernatural #dean winchester #deancas #spn fanart #castiel fanart #dean x castiel #spn #destielbttfau

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avelera · 2 months ago

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Okay so I recently got low-key obsessed with Jayvik and I’ve been liking your posts about them (top tier analysis btw). Anyway I’m curious about your opinions on a couple of things:

If Jayce’s love language is physical touch, what do you think Viktor’s love language is?

What do you think the Anomaly actually is? My headcanon is that it’s caused by all the paradoxes/timelines that Mad Wizard Viktor keeps making, but idk why it would only be under the Hexgates.

Hmm, when taking into account that the love languages thing is basically horoscopes for real people, but they may have informed how the characters were written, I'd say:

1 ) I completely agree that Jayce's love language is physical touch. That much is obvious.

Viktor's love language is Quality Time - that would explain why he starts getting irritated and hurt with Jayce near the end of S1 and why he's so moved and touched by them solving equations and spending time together pre-time skip. Actually, so much of Viktor's attitude towards Jayce is explained by him seeing Quality Time as a love language it's actually making me a bit dizzy, I need to think about this a lot more because I think this might have cracked something for me...

2 ) Hoooo boy, I actually have an answer for what the Anomaly is in my mind, but it's a lot less character driven and a more metaphysics driven because I was feral about Arcane S1 before I had anyone else to talk to about it online and I've spent a lot of time thinking about Hextech and Shimmer. OK, here goes:

Hextech is an axiomatic (lawful) channeling of forces of nature, namely magic. However, magic to stay pure and reliable requires an anarchic (chaotic) AND the axiomatic (lawful) balancing act for each use of its power if it's to stay "pure" and reliable. Otherwise, you invite chaos in. Namely, the Anomaly.

In addition, every use of magic/the Arcane puts off a certain amount of "car exhaust" for every use, this allows it from a Doylist perspective to be a climate change metaphor but it does go deeper than that and follows its own magical rules. If you look closely, overuse of Hextech always puts off smoke. Early uses don't do so as much, though. In my opinion, each puff of that "smoke" adds to a potential Anomaly.

Now if you're good at magic, and skilled with it, say if you're good mage, as seen with The Mage / Viktor in 1.02, you make a point of scooping up up all the exhaust from any use of rune magic and pouring it back into the spell.

Look at how the mage scoops up all the exhaust coming out of the spell here and weaves it back into the spell!

Hextech doesn't bother to do that! Because Jayce doesn't fundamentally understand that advanced level of magic! He just keeps calling on its energy without dealing with the output of smoke/chaos/Anomaly fumes so it's just hanging in the air.

By the way, all the smoke in Arcane is hand animated so to my eyes, all smoke actually matters. I'm actually a little bummed that S2 didn't go deeper into explaining the smoke that comes off of some uses of the Arcane but not others but I'm assuming they'll delve more into in future shows because The Arcane Is Awake Now, thanks to my brilliant science boy dipshits.

The cleanest, clearest use of Hextech we ever see is the first time the science boys use it to float:

I draw a few conclusions from this:

1 ) The first hit is always free - first time you use magic, magic is happy to help you out! It will do the thing you ask! No consequences!

2 ) Magic gets more and more angry the more times you use it. Actually, by the time we get to Vi using the Atlas Gauntlets repeatedly in S2, there's a little puff of smoke every. time. she uses. them.

3 ) Magic requires some balance. Breaking a window before it let the boys float? Cool, that's balance. But if you just have it doing the same constructive motion over and over, like sending out airships, but you don't let it break some things too? It gets annoyed.

4 ) If it doesn't get applied in a balanced way, magic/the Arcane gets mad. Ekko compared the Arcane's frustration to a sigh. That smoke? Is the sigh. Again, first time you use Hextech, magic which is at least semi-sentient, is MORE than happy to help! The more you keep demanding repeated axiomatic actions, the more it sighs in anger.

Then we get to the crux of your question: what is the Anomaly?

The Anomaly built up at the base of a tower stuffed full with polished, axiomatic, reinforced Hexgems that do one constructive task over and over and over again all day, every day: safely send ships from one place to another.

The Anomaly builds up from the frustration of not allowing magic to be free. Jayce is an axiomatic thinker, he sees magic as a tool, not as a force of nature, so he's been channeling it super precisely and not scooping up all that extra exhaust and channeling it back into the magic and that means it builds up this... pearl of an Anomaly which is all this wild magic with tons of chaotic potential that can do basically anything, including time and dimensional travel but it's gonna be super weird about it.

Soooo... thanks for giving me the chance to yell about Hextech, hope that was sort of what you had in mind!

#arcane #arcane meta #jayce talis #hextech #jayvik

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em1989ts · 5 months ago

Text

𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 1.7k

part one. part two. part three. main masterlist.

summary: after discovering your husband cheated on you with his brother's wife, you run off to a different timeline using the subway, only to find a deli crowded with a familiar face.

author's note: this is my first fic that i'm actually posting lol, if anyone sees this i'll be totally shocked

“Just leave me alone, Five.”

You were speed walking down the steps into what looked like an abandoned subway, desperately trying to avoid the man you thought you knew, who was currently right on your tail.

“Not until you talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded, swiftly trying to catch up.

“There’s nothing to discuss, Five,” you said in a cold manner.

You just couldn’t speak to him. Not after what just happened in the living room with him and Diego. After what was just brought to light.

You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

Why would you hear him out? Why would he believe he had a right to explain himself? How could he? A marriage of over half a century, down the drain. And for what?

Seven years with her.

Lila.

His brother’s wife. The mother of his brother’s children. The child of the couple he assassinated.

It made no sense.

You angrily sped up and quickly got onto the train that was stopped at the station. It’s white light making you more stressed than you already were.

The doors shut in his face. Just a couple more seconds and he would’ve been on this train. You would’ve been stuck having to hear him try and save face until the next stop.

Sometimes the universe lets you win.

But why not this time.

You stared at him through the window of the subway car doors. He looked at you pleadingly. You looked at him disappointedly.

Who was he, because he sure as hell wasn’t the Five you had known since you were thirteen years old. Stuck in the apocalypse with nothing but ashes and him.

You had thought it was fate. You and him were meant to be stuck together, meant to be there for each other. Even after everything that’s happened. Apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse.

The subway started to move. You stayed standing, staring at him with daggers in your eyes until he was out of sight. He didn’t chase after the car, he knew it was pointless. He knew he’d never get you back. He didn’t deserve you.

Once the outside of the train was completely dark and all you could see was your own reflection in the window, you turned and took a seat. Hands in your lap, looked straight ahead, drained.

What were you supposed to do now? Where would you go?

Maybe this train would take you to a universe with a Five that could never dream of betraying you the way your own did.

The lights shone over you as you were deep in thought. You had no idea where this train would take you, when it would take you.

Suddenly, the car slowed to a gradual stop and the doors opened. You wanted to stay on, maybe pass by hundreds of stops until you actually got off the train but you heard footsteps passing by the station.

Something in the back of your mind told you to get off at this stop, that you would find something important.

You stood and slipped through the doors. As soon as you turned your head to scan your surroundings, that’s when you saw him.

How could he have gotten here before you?

Five was casually walking towards a set of stairs when he saw you and stopped in his tracks.

You glared and felt a flame arise in you as you stomped over to him.

“I told you to leave me alone, Five. What the hell are you doing here?” you pointed an angry, accusatory finger in his face but he just grabbed your hand and gently held it in his.

You were confused, he seemed different. Less guilty. More sentimental.

Your anger faltered as he stared into your eyes with an admiration you were already starting to miss.

“y/n,” he said sincerely, “it’s been so long.”

Of course he wasn’t your Five. You had just jumped onto a multi-dimensional subway for Christ’s sake.

“Come on, follow me,” he said as guided you towards a stairwell.

As you descended and turned a corner, warm glowing lights filled your sight. A warming, comforting sense of nostalgia flooded your senses. You looked up and read the lights on the sign, Max’s Delicatessen, as the Five you stumbled across led you inside. The sound of a familiar vintage tune filled your ears.

Immediately, you felt all eyes travel to your frame. Every single pupil in this room belonged to a Five. The man you never wanted to see again. Each one of them looked at you with a shocked and astounded expression.

The Five still holding your hand paid no attention and directed you into a booth seat.

As you sat down, you took in your surroundings. The Fives behind the counter preparing food, the Fives taking orders, the Five delivering food, the Fives whispering at tables.

There were so many of them, what was this place?

The Five sitting across from you looks in your eyes with a knowing look.

“It’s not often we get one of you around here.”

You shake out of your confused thoughts and reply, “And what exactly is this place?”

Before you can get a reply, a waiter Five comes up to the table and places two mugs of coffee in front of you and Five. Before he leaves, he places a couple cups of creamer and packets of sugar next to your mug.

Without answering your question, the Five in front of you smiles and says, “We keep those in the kitchen and not on the tables since it’s really rare to see you.”

You give him an annoyed look.

“Can you explain to me what’s going on?”

“Right,” he sat up a little straighter and took a sip of his coffee. “You hopped on a subway that took you to an alternate timeline. That timeline just so happens to hold a place where us Fives come after we’ve stopped trying to fix the problem.” He largely gestured to the room full of alternate versions of your husband. Ex husband.

You stared at him for a few seconds, your brain rattled with questions, before you spoke.

“Stopped trying? You mean trying to save the world?”

“Stopped trying to fix the broken timeline,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“The broken timeline?” you repeated in confusion.

“There’s only supposed to be one, and I’ll bet you can guess who shattered the original timeline.”

Before you could reply, you heard a bell as another Five yelled out, “We did.”

Five made a disapproving yet knowing face as he called back, “Why you always gotta wreck shit, Brisket Five?”

Brisket Five shrugged at him then winked at you before returning back to his work.

“Okay . .” you started, trying to come up with the right questions, “So, our existence is the cause of the broken timeline. Is that why there’s constantly an apocalypse?”

“Precisely,” Five responds, before gesturing to the framed pictures on the wall. “By the way, check out the artwork. All the different ways we made our universe go kaboom.”

You stare at the photographs on the wall, noticing both familiar doomsday and entirely unique ones. Once your eyes reach a certain point along the wall you notice some framed images of you. Different photos of you and Five, living your lives together throughout the timelines.

The Five across from you notices your curious glimpse.

“I mentioned we don’t often see you around here,” he explains. “It’s because it’s rare that you survive your timeline.”

You quickly turned back to him in response to his statement. You don’t survive? How many of the Fives in this room have lost their y/n? Has the Five in front of you lost his?

“What do you mean?”

“You and I will always meet, in every timeline throughout the universe. It just seems that fate doesn’t always take our side,” he says solemnly as he looks down at his mug.

A Five piped up from the booth behind you, “My y/n was killed by the Swedes back in Dallas.”

Another from a couple tables away said, “Mine died in the apocalypse, but we had a good thirty years together.”

The Five in front of you looked up at you and said, “In my timeline, the Handler shot you and you died in my arms. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

He gave you such a genuine look. Like he’s felt shame and guilt for so long, his apology was heartbreaking. How could these Fives care so much about you, while your Five forgot all about you.

“It’s okay,” you looked at him truthfully and took his hand in your, “I’m sure none of your y/ns would ever blame you for their fate, but they would for giving up. They’d want you to keep going, stay strong and do what it takes to save your family and the world. That’s what they loved most about you.”

You felt bad placing blame on him but you didn’t understand how the man who has spent his whole life prioritizing the safety of his family and overcoming countless obstacles and stopping at nothing to save his family could just give up. Sure it was tiring, but that was the life the two of you lived, together.

He smiled at you so lovingly it crumbled your heart.

“Y/n, the doomsdays will never stop coming. The only way to end this constant cycle of saving and destroying the world is if our family ceases to exist.”

Your heart slowed its beating as you stared at your interlocked hands, contemplating.

You hated to admit it but he made sense. Whenever your family is all together, everything goes to shit. People always die and the world will always end.

Before you could respond, you heard the door swing open and a tense tone fell over the deli.

The Five across from you held your hands a bit tighter as he glanced up at the Five that had rushed in.

Your Five.

☕︎

part two. part three.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #brisket five #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves headcanons #brisket five x reader #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreaves x reader #number five #number five fanart #five hargreeves angst #number five x reader #tua fandom #tua five #five hargreeves x you

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harrysfolklore · 4 months ago

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omg! little bitch headcanon after a long time hehe - it’s reyes’s birthday this week so i was imagining piastri sis being with the sainz family celebrating it and she’s the one taking the family photograph and reyes tells her to join in on the photo because she’s family too ☺️☺️☺️

i said that i would post a little bitch blurb if carlos had a podium finish and he did soooo here it is! i hope you like it READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The private jet touches down in Madrid, the setting sun painting the sky in vibrant hues. You stretch in your plush leather seat, feeling the familiar ache of a long-haul flight.

"Rise and shine, little bitch," you tease, poking Carlos who's still dozing beside you.

He cracks open one eye, a smirk playing on his lips. "Such a charming way to wake me up, Piastri," he retorts, voice husky from sleep. "I should leave you at the airport."

"You wouldn't dare," you laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Carlos hums appreciatively, deepening the kiss before pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe not, but I might make you sleep on the couch, cariño."

As you make your way through the VIP customs area, Carlos' hand finds its way to the small of your back, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"Cold, hermosa?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

You elbow him playfully. "Behave yourself, Sainz. We're in public."

This isn't just another trip to Spain - it's the first time you'll be staying at Carlos' house in Madrid, spending time with his parents celebrating his mother's birthday and meeting his sisters. The significance of this step in your relationship isn't lost on either of you.

Carlos leads you to his waiting car, he insists on taking your luggage despite your protests. "You've had a long flight," he says, easily lifting your suitcase into the trunk. "Let me take care of you."

As Carlos pulls into the driveway of his house, you feel a mix of nerves and anticipation. He turns to you after cutting the engine, his brown eyes soft in the dim light. "Ready to see your home away from home?"

You nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. "More than ready."

As Carlos unlocks the front door, you hear the scrabbling of paws on hardwood floor.

"Piñon!" Carlos calls out as he pushes the door open. A ball of fluffy fur comes bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.

You crouch down, laughing as Piñon jumps up to lick your face. "Hello, handsome boy! Oh, it's so nice to meet you!" You ruffle his fur, delighting in his excited yips. "You're much cuter than your dad, aren't you?"

"Hey!" Carlos protests, but his eyes are soft as he watches you interact with his dog.

After giving Piñon some attention, Carlos takes your hand to lead you on a tour of the house. In the kitchen, you can't resist teasing him.

"I'm surprised you even know what this room is for, Sainz," you quip, gesturing at the state-of-the-art appliances.

Carlos crowds you against the counter, his body pressed against yours. "I know exactly what it's for, mi amor," he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive. "Want me to show you?"

You push him away with a laugh, trying to ignore the heat blooming in your cheeks. "Later, you menace. Finish the tour first."

The apartment is spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of Madrid's skyline. Carlos leads you through each room, pointing out little details and sharing anecdotes.

You notice several framed photos on the shelves - Carlos with his family, with his teammates, and to your surprise, a few of you and him together. Your heart swells at the sight.

"And this," he says, pushing open a door, "is our bedroom."

Your heart skips a beat at the casual use of 'our'. The room is dominated by a large, comfortable-looking bed, and more of those amazing windows.

Carlos wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "What do you think?" he murmurs.

You lean back into him, sighing contentedly. "It's perfect. I love it."

"Mm," Carlos hums, his lips finding your temple, "I love you."

You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. The intensity you find there makes your breath catch. "I love you too," you whisper.

Carlos's eyes darken as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. You respond eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest to tangle in his hair.

"We should probably get some sleep," Carlos murmurs against your lips, even as his hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer.

"Probably," you agree, already working on the buttons of his shirt. "But I'm not very tired. Are you?"

Suddenly, Piñon barks from downstairs, breaking the moment. You both laugh, a little breathless.

"I should probably take him for a walk," Carlos says, pressing one last kiss to your lips.

"Don't take too long," you call after him as he heads downstairs. "I might get into bed without you."

The next morning, you wake to the sound of Carlos humming in the shower. You stretch lazily, a smile playing on your lips as memories of last night flood your mind.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Carlos says, emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. "Ready for the big day?"

You groan, pulling the covers over your head. "Do we have to go? Can't we just stay in bed all day?"

Carlos chuckles, tugging the blanket away. "Tempting as that is, mi amor, I'm pretty sure my mother would hunt us down if we missed her birthday party."

"Fine, but only because I like Reyes more than I like you."

"Ouch," Carlos clutches his chest in mock pain. "You wound me, Piastri. And here I was, about to offer to join you in the shower."

You laugh, swatting him with a pillow as you head to the bathroom. "Behave yourself, Sainz. We can't be late to your mother's party."

An hour later, you're standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down your outfit for the hundredth time. Carlos comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Stop worrying."

You meet his eyes in the mirror. "I can't help it. What if your sisters don't like me?"

Carlos turns you to face him, his hands cupping your face. "They're going to love you, cariño. Just like I do." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, maybe not exactly like I do. That would be weird."

You can't help but laugh, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. "You're such an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot," he grins, leaning in for a kiss.

The drive to Carlos's parents' house is filled with Carlos telling you stories of past birthday celebrations. As you pull up to the house, however, your nerves return full force.

"Ready, mi amor?" Carlos squeezes your hand.

"As I'll ever be. Let's do this, little bitch."

The door swings open before you even reach it, revealing a beaming Reyes. "Carlos! YN! Come in, come in!" She pulls you both into a warm embrace.

"Feliz cumpleaños, Mama," Carlos says, kissing her cheek.

"Happy birthday, Reyes," you add, handing her a beautifully wrapped gift. "Thank you for having me."

"Nonsense, cariño," Reyes waves off your thanks. "You're family now."

Carlos Sr. appears behind his wife, clapping his son on the back before turning to you with a warm smile. "YN, lovely to see you again. How's that brother of yours? Giving our Carlos a run for his money on the track?"

You laugh, falling easily into the familiar banter. "Oh, you know Oscar. He's doing his best to keep up with your son, but it's a losing battle. Though he'd never admit it."

"Please," Carlos snorts, "Little Piastri could only dream of keeping up with me."

"Is that so?" you raise an eyebrow. "Remind me again, who beat who in the last race?"

As you and Carlos enter the living room, you spot two women sitting on the couch, engaged in quiet conversation. They look up as you approach, and you immediately recognize them as Carlos' sisters from the family photos you've seen.

Blanca, the older one, rises first with a warm smile. "You must be YN," she says, stepping forward to greet you with a gentle hug. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Welcome to the family madhouse," Ana follows, her smile equally warm.

You return their smiles, feeling some of your nervousness dissipate. "It's great to meet you both. I've heard so much about you."

"All good things, I hope," Blanca says, shooting a playful glance at Carlos.

"Of course," Carlos replies, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I only told her about the times you weren't being complete pains in my-"

"Carlos!" Reyes's voice carries from the kitchen, cutting him off mid-sentence.

You all laugh, and the tension in the room eases further.

"So, YN," Blanca says as you all settle into the living room, "I was just telling Ana about this amazing spa resort I discovered. I was thinking it might be fun for us to take a girls' trip there sometime - you, me, Ana, and Mama. What do you think?"

Before you can respond, Carlos interjects, "Hey, why are you trying to steal my girlfriend already? She just got here!"

"Relax, hermanito," Blanca rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "We're not going to whisk her away forever. Just long enough to share all your embarrassing childhood stories."

"Speaking of embarrassing stories," Ana chimes in, a mischievous glint in her eye, "has Carlos ever told you about the time he tried to impress a girl at school by saying he could drive a real F1 car?"

Carlos groans, burying his face in his hands. "Ana, no..."

"Ana, yes," you say, leaning forward eagerly. "Please, do tell."

Ana grins, clearly enjoying her brother's discomfort. "Well, he was about 14, and there was this girl he had a massive crush on. So, he tells her that Papa lets him drive the car all the time. Of course, she doesn't believe him, so he offers to show her."

"Oh no," you mutter, already seeing where this is going.

"Oh yes," Ana continues. "He sneaks her into the garage where Papa keeps one of his old cars. Tries to climb in, but he's too short to reach the pedals properly. Ends up falling face-first into the cockpit, gets stuck, and Papa has to come rescue him."

You burst out laughing, picturing a young Carlos in such a predicament. "Please tell me there are photos."

"There's video," Blanca says with a smirk.

"I hate all of you." Carlos groans again.

You pat his knee consolingly, still chuckling. "Aw, don't worry, babe. I'm sure you were very suave while stuck upside down in an F1 car."

"The girl never spoke to him again," Ana adds, causing another round of laughter.

"Alright, alright," Carlos says, trying to sound stern but failing to hide his own amusement. "That's enough embarrassing stories about me. Don't you have some photo albums to bore YN with or something?"

"Photo albums!" Blanca exclaims. "What a great idea, Carlos. I'm sure your girlfriend would love to see your awkward phase."

As Blanca goes to fetch the albums, you lean into Carlos, whispering, "You know, that girls' trip doesn't sound so bad. I might learn even more interesting things about you."

Carlos shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret introducing you to my sisters?"

"Probably because you are," you kiss his cheek, "But you love me anyway."

"That I do," he murmurs, pulling you closer as Blanca returns with a stack of photo albums.

As the evening wears on, Reyes announces it's time for cake. The family gathers around the dining table, where a beautiful cake adorned with candles takes center stage.

"Alright, everyone," Carlos Sr. calls out. "On three. Una, dos, tres!"

The room erupts into a somewhat off-key rendition of "Cumpleaños Feliz," with Carlos deliberately singing out of tune next to your ear. You elbow him in the ribs, trying to stifle your laughter.

As the song ends and Reyes blows out her candles, she turns to Carlos Sr. with a smile. "Cariño, why don't you get the camera? We should take a family photo."

Your heart swells at being included in this intimate family moment, but you also feel a twinge of uncertainty. As everyone starts to gather, you quietly slip out of the room, giving the family their moment.

You're examining some family photos on the wall when you hear Reyes's voice from the other room. "Carlos, ¿dónde está tu novia? Where is your girlfriend?"

A moment later, Carlos appears in the doorway. "Hey, what are you doing out here? We're waiting for you."

"Oh, do you want me to take the picture for you?" you ask.

Carlos's expression softens. He crosses the room, taking your hands in his. "Mi amor, you're part of this family now. That means you're in the photos, not taking them."

"But-" you start to protest, but Carlos cuts you off with a gentle kiss.

"No buts," he murmurs against your lips. "Come on, Piastri. Time to make it official."

He leads you back to the dining room, where the rest of the family is waiting. Reyes beams when she sees you. "There you are, cariño! Come, stand next to Carlos."

"I thought maybe I should take the picture..." you begin, but Reyes cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

"No, no, querida. You join in too. You're family now."

"Oh, but I couldn't—" you begin.

"Of course you can," Carlos Sr. insists, while Ana and Blanca nod in agreement.

"Yeah, come on, Piastri" Blanca teases, "You're not getting out of this one."

Carlos appears at your side, slipping an arm around your waist. "Come on, mi amor. You heard Mama. You're one of us now."

Feeling overwhelmed by emotion, you allow Carlos to guide you into the group. As you stand there, surrounded by the Sainz family, you're struck by a profound sense of belonging.

"Everyone ready?" Reyes asks, setting the timer on the camera.

As the flash goes off, capturing the moment, you realize that's exactly what you've become – part of this wonderful, loving family. And as Carlos presses a kiss to your temple, whispering "Te amo" in your ear, you know you wouldn't have it any other way.

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rin-may-1103 · 6 months ago

Text

Just a Bite (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.

glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)

Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.

well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.

flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;

Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.

"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."

Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.

the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.

what the fuck.

"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."

closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.

holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)

"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.

staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.

A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."

"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.

somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.

and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.

No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???

you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!

The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.

Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.

"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.

blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.

Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.

"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.

"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.

"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.

Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?

The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.

Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.

Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?

Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?

Eating the rich.

Or in this case; their food.

and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dc x dp #dpxdc #bruce wayne #jason #cass #damian #tim #just a bite Au #part two #misunderstandings #found family #angst #danny is a little shit

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biteyoubiteme · 4 months ago

Text

mango flavored.

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: yeonjun and you work at rival companies and he’s always looking for a way to prove you wrong.

warnings: 🔞!!! yeonjun and reader pick on each other, rivals to lovers, mentions of fingering, unprotected sex, pull out method used, choking (f!rec), handjob, mirror sex, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.1k

an: posting early because I can't keep anything in my drafts thats done and if I look at it too much I wont like it. also this one kinda got away from me it was supposed to be hate sex but I don't think it really turned out like that lol so sorry about that and also more rivals to lover and not enemies to lovers ;-; forgive me pls feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here! [dumdum m.list]

It had only been a summer since you had last seen yeonjun and you would have been better if it had been longer. Even just thinking of the last event the two of you had attended together made your blood boil. both of you sneering at each other waiting for your cars, “I mean the numbers aren't looking too hot for you, down two percent in just the last quarter,”

you had rolled your eyes arms crossed as you cursed the valet for being so slow, “well some of us don’t fudge the numbers to make our company look good,”

his scoff was stone cold, “If you think- no I'm not even going to tolerate that accusation,” his hands shoved deep into his pockets, jaw tight.

“Then don’t start with me,” you had fallen into silence, both of you having fought all night. Every time you tried to rub elbows with another firm, Yeonjun was right at your side trying to wedge himself into the conversation, to steal anyone away who was willing to talk to you.

This late after the event you couldn’t think of anything better than going home as soon as possible and yet your car still wasn’t here; Neither was his.

“I'm so sorry for the inconvenience but it seems there is a problem with one of our cars,” the valet states, their hands folded apologetically in front of them, “we only have the one left unless you’re willing to wait forty minutes. We did check the routes and both of you seem to live on the same street and if you’re willing-“

“no,” you start at the same time yeonjun says, “That’s fine,”

“I don’t think I’d be able to survive a car ride with you, you’d take up all the air,” the valet looked mildly uncomfortable as yeonjun and you stared each other down.

“well if you’re willing to wait then by all means don’t let me stop you,”

"I am not waiting,” you would call someone before you let yeonjun watch you stand here in his rearview mirror feeling like he won the night.

“Well I’m not waiting so suck it up,” you huff a humorless laugh at the way he waves you away. “we will take the car it's fine,”

“We will compensate you both for the inconvenience we are so so sorry,” the valet apologizes wanting to be done with the situation.

“it’s okay we’re friends,” his cocky grin adds to your annoyance.

“the day i’m friends with you is the day you’re sucking up to me after my company absorbs yours,”

“Please we both know it will be the other way around,”

you don’t even try to fight back, you're too tired from the day ready to get the ride over with so that you can cozy up in your apartment and think about anything else besides yeonjun. For the short car ride you could play nice. You didn’t even say anything when he was quick to get Into the car first. Both of your companies always rented out the same car place after events that had drinking involved. The sleek blacked-out suvs provided layers of privacy from the outside in. The divider separating the front and back seat when closed made the back seat seem like you were truly secluded, important calls could be made without the driver hearing so long as you made sure the window was closed. The driver wasn’t able to see into the back unless it was open. It wasn’t an ideal place to be seated next to someone you didn’t like.

“The pavilion is first for drop off. Does that work for you two?” the driver asks both of you nodding as he closes the divider leaving the two of you in complete silence.

“When did you move into the pavilion? If I had known we were neighbors I would have sent a basket of something,"Yeonjun asks, sitting back and getting comfortable for the drive, his legs spread knee knocking yours.

“Only a month ago so if you’re still handing out gifts i’d like you to keep it so I’m not indebted to you in any way,”

“I’ve seen the penthouse layout the place is huge you couldn’t possibly be sharing that whole space alone,”

“if that is some way of asking me if I have a partner-“

he cuts you off. “I was asking if you were going home to anyone or your vibrator because someone or something needs to work out the tension the stick up your ass gave you,”

“you’re a fucking dick,” you roll your eyes

“I’m just saying only uptight people don’t get laid maybe that’s your problem, you haven’t gotten off,”

“If you’re suggesting it be you to do it I’d rather go with the vibrator. i’m sure all the girls who find themselves in your bed fake it only because they don’t want to bruise your ego,”

he laughs, “If you think I can’t get a girl off-“

“I would bet money, pretty boys like you don’t work too hard in the bedroom besides maybe a little nipple play but that’s only if you’re a boob guy,”

“I’ll prove it,”

Now you’re laughing, hand over your mouth to try and catch the sound but it keeps bubbling up, “What?”

“I’ll prove it,” he repeats, shrugging like it’s nothing at all.

“Okay prove it then,” and he was digging in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He pushed open the divider and told the driver to do a couple laps around the street leaving him a few bills before shutting the two of you back into your bubble.

You’ve never confessed to anyone what happened in the back of that car. Not even when you were a few drinks in with your friends and they giggled about their best orgasms. You kept your mouth shut and prayed you would never stumble across yeonjun again.

It was hard to admit he was right. Even just thinking about the way he looked as you got out of the backseat, that grin so devilish before he licked your wetness clean from his fingers. You had egged him on and now you found it impossible to cum without thinking about the way he completely shattered your world. His breathy voice pressed right to your ear, “I want to hear you, I want to know just how good I’m making you feel,” how when you moaned he praised you, every “good girl,” adding to the build-up to your climax. Only now can you look back and hate on the moment because that was exactly what it was; a moment you desperately wanted to forget. No man, not even yeonjun deserved to have that moment hanging over your head.

It was only the next day when someone in your company brought up his name and you hated how you felt yourself ache in remembrance. How even a week later you tried to sleep with someone else and they failed miserably to get you anywhere close to what yeonjun made you feel. At least not until you started to imagine it was him on top of you. Just that confession itself was enough to make you believe he ruined your life. It was always a good day when you could successfully push away that night from your memory. Then it was nighttime and flickers of that car ride flashed in your mind. Even your own hand down the front of your shorts couldn’t satisfy the craving.

Anyone else and it would have been fine even if they were all you could think about but with yeonjun, he was the only competition you had at any other company in your field or at least a competitor that actually made your job worth the effort. If he wasn't there to beat there wasn't much to the day-to-day monotony. If anything it was annoying that he one upped you in something where the playing field was so uneven, if you wanted to match the score you would have to return the orgasm and speak about the fact that he had won in the first place. But you wouldn't be the one to bring it up even if the thought of sucking him off made your mouth water.

For the past few events your companies have participated in you've missed meeting each other at least face on. Any across the room glances were quickly avoided; neither of you looking out for the other. Even this late into the night with so many people already leaving you've yet to stumble across yeonjun. The event hall was loosely filled with people waiting for cars instead of making their way outside to wait, the early fall breeze already setting in. Everyone you've needed to impress tonight is gone giving you the excuse to sit at the bar without worrying people hovering.

Stirring your drink you watch the way the ice clinks against the glass, the faint music covering up the sound of yeonjun sitting down on the leather stool next to yours.

“Are you avoiding me?” the question just on the edge of teasing. You don’t even have to look up to know he’s smirking.

“no,” but even if the one word comes out confident, your pulse is hammering.

“hum, you know for a second my feelings were a little hurt but then I thought about how embarrassed you must feel,”

you finally turn to look at him, his suit tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck, hair uncut since the last time you saw him this close. “Embarrassed? In all the updated stats I've widened the margins between us. you should be embarrassed,”

“my mind has just been so preoccupied thinking about how embarrassing it would be to cum in under three minutes,”

all the blood rushes to your face, not because it’s anything to be embarrassed about but because it’s brought the image right back to you. Your nails digging into his forearm, knees trying to press together as you came. His lips right against your ear, that breathy, ‘look at that,’ still haunts your dreams. and it wasn't only once, he kept going, the heel of his palm pressed right against your clit, ‘too easy I'm sure I could get two more out of you,’

it’s like he can see right into your mind, follow the scene like a script he had memorized. “Just like I said that night, I hate you,” you toss your drink back, not even bothering to push in your seat when you stand.

“Nooo, don't go now,” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. He’s matching you step for step making sure not to leave you alone.

“my cars out front,” you lie not caring that you can see the exit and clearly empty parking lot.

“Perfect I needed a ride and you look like the perfect one to do it,”

you can’t help but laugh, stopping in your tracks making him bump into you, “as if I would put in that much effort to please you,”

“I'd just let you use me,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, “I'm sure you would get a kick out of that,”

“if you want to sleep with me you'd have to do all the work but if you thought I came ‘embarrassingly’ quick,” you roll your eyes “I'd hate to think about how long you would last,”

“If I want to sleep with you? So it’s my choice?” his brows raised lips teasing a small grin.

“I don’t think it would go well,” you’re stalling trying to think of every reason why it was a bad idea to sleep with him. If he had already ruined sex for you without trying if he did put in the effort you’re sure you would never be able to look back. You wanted him, needed him, and yet he was the worst possible option in terms of survival. You would never get over him.

“I can last, I can even prove it,” your eyes go to his lips, watching the way his tongue peeks out to wet them.

“We shouldn’t,”

“I didn’t ask if we should I offered to prove you wrong or if you’re lucky prove you right then you could hold it over me,”

he wanted you desperately to say yes, knew he shouldn’t, and still couldn’t help himself. His memories of that night did little to satisfy him anymore, he needed the real thing. Every night since he could hear the way you whimpered, craved to feel you clenching his fingers again.

“Fine, prove it,” and you don’t think he actually will, not here at least but he’s grabbing your hand leading you to the furthest bathroom in the building.

You hardly have time to process what's happening between the twist of the lock and his mouth on yours. "We shouldn't be doing this," you mutter breathlessly between kisses.

“then tell me to stop, tell me to leave you alone," but his words meant nothing to you as your hands worked on his belt. His lips trailing down your jaw, teeth scratching down your neck.

The restroom is a single stall with little space for two to move around much, and the mirror and sink are right in front of the door. You can see yourself in the reflection pressed against the door, yeonjun sloppily kissing over your pulse. When you slip your hand into his pants, fisting his hardening cock. His moan is pressed right against your collarbone, his hand pressed right next to your head using the door to steady himself. You can feel precum starting to bead up and you swipe it up with your thumb. You give a few loose tugs watching the way he reacts, his lashes fluttering as you circle your fingers over his tip.

“Now look at that, you really do know how to be quiet. Who knew this was all it took,” you tease free hand reaching up to pull on his tie. His head dips until his nose is brushing yours, mouth open in a silent gasp.

His free hand slips right past your waistband, slim fingers finding your clit with ease. Your hand tightens on his tie and he gives a throaty chuckle at your gasp, your brows coming together as you try not to make any more sounds.

“no, I told you last time I wanted to hear you, I need to hear you,” his precise circles on your clit give him exactly what he wants, and you’re unable to keep your whimpers to yourself. He is no better off with his hips bucking forward into your hand, every little noise of his caught on your lips. If you kept up the pace you were at he definitely wouldn't last long, every brush over his sensitive tip was making his knees want to fold.

yeonjun had dreamed about his fingers slipping through your slick again, tasting you, even watching you slam the door as you left; his laugh mixing in with your flustered i hate you. he went through every event fighting the images of that night. But tonight was enough to break him with you dressed in the same skirt you wore then, the fabric smoothed down right over your ass. He wasn’t strong enough to turn away.

Pulling his hand away from the door he reached down to stop your movements needing a fighting chance to last.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock, do you think you can take it?” and you’re nodding following him to the sink.

The two of you in the mirror look disheveled, lips slightly swollen from the kissing. “I’m kinda glad we don’t work together because I don’t know how I would get work done sitting across from someone this distracting,” his hand slides down the back of your thigh before he lifts your leg. with one hand bracing yourself on the countertop your other goes to the back of your knee to keep it in place while he pushes your panties to the side.

yeonjun wastes no time in running the head of his cock through your folds, taking the time to slap his tip on your clit making you jerk back against him. “if you don’t-“ but you’re cut off by the stretch of taking him in even an inch, your words caught in your throat as he watches your reaction in the mirror.

“hum? What was that?” he asks with a cocky grin looking right back at you, his hands wrapping around your waist, as he pushes all the way in.

The angle has him pressed deep inside you, far enough to make your thighs shake. your head falls forward as he starts to thrust, hips knocking against yours pushing you further to the countertop. “fuck- you feel so good,”

The praise makes you clench around him, his moan echoing in the small space. He pulls out almost all the way before snapping his hips back against you the force sends you down to your elbow.

yeonjun wants to see your face, needs to see the way you come undone for him again. Taking one of his hands he loosely wraps it around your throat guiding you back up to lean against his chest. “Look at us, look at the way you’re taking my cock, don’t we look good together?” his mouth is right next to your ear as he asks, his fingers tightening enough to feel every vibration from your moans.

“Are you going to cum for me? I wanna feel it,” the hand on your hip goes to your clit helping the build up of your climax. You can’t even form words to reply before you’re falling over the edge.

yeonjun has to slow his pace as you cum, your gummy walls sucking him in as he helps you ride out your high. He has to drop his hand from around your throat when he pulls out giving the last few tugs on his cock before he spills hot streams of cum on the back of your skirt.

“I think I won,” he smiles, watching you stand up straight catching each other's gaze in the mirror after you’ve come down for your highs.

Although you know he’s right you roll your eyes turning your hip so that he can see the mess he’s made. “this was one of my good skirts,”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, hand coming back up to your neck and tugging your mouth to his kissing you sweetly like he hadn’t just rearranged your organs. “just bill me for the dry cleaning, and next time i’ll just make sure I get you nice and full so you won’t complain,”

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun smut #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #txt x reader #txt smut #txt fanfic #txt #kpop smut #soobin #huening kai #beomgyu #taehyun #kinktober

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svndaysaweek · 1 year ago

Text

You Don’t Even Know My Name, Do You? — {Feat. Minji}

3.1k words

A/N: Hi! It’s me, back in 6 months! I had the idea for this one since last summer, but never really made it a fic. But now I post it…! It’s a rushed fic, no editing, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors or typos. Thank you @praeluxius for help and advice in making the conversation better and more natural! Thanks for 1.6k followers and most importantly 1k notes for ‘Niche’!!! Enjoy reading this and luv you all…!

******

Subways late at night are dangerous, and you can’t deny it’s because of you. Drunken bodies swaying along the rail, left and right, back and forth, grasping up on their wasted balance not to embarrass themselves by falling on the floor. Less than an hour left from waving away the day, you can tell where others in the train came from—bars, karaokes, or anywhere with entertainment and alcohol. Returning home after having some fun to wrap up the day and live the following day. Victims of society, some say, but that’s what all people are. We work, get paid. Victims don’t get to enjoy themselves, do they? But to be honest, you’re not the one to care for them, the victims, when you’re one of the victimizers.

You’re standing next to the door, the best position to scan the people in and out, empirically certified by yourself. There are quite a few people in the car—only a few seats available and half of the people chose to spare the seats empty. You’re holding onto a steel bar and slightly leaning your weight on it, eyeing thoroughly for your prey. But there’s no one yet to suit your taste, no one looking good and wealthy.

The mechanical female voice informs the next stop and a few dozens of seconds later the train halts for another group of people to be added to your menu.

“Alright, alright! I’m not that stupid to let someone just, like, snatch my purse away, huh?”

You hear a girl talking to her phone, laughing like she just heard the dumbest advice ever. A crop top for her defined belly to be open, relatively baggy jeans hinting the sculpted curve of her hips and full-blown outlines of legs. Within a second that girl has made everyone in the car latch their eyes on her doing nothing.

“What the fuck? I didn’t drink that much tonight I swear, and fuck, even an alcoholic won’t forget his own name,”

The girl, however, certainly looks drunk, sounds drunk, and acts drunk. Her eyes barely stay open, her tongue hardly makes her words clear. You can even smell how much she poured down her throat. It’s becoming more and more fit for your ideal condition.

Her talk goes on for a few more minutes then she puts her phone in her handbag and looks into the dark, mirror-like window. Her blinks become lazier and slower by the second, alcohol weighing her eyelids, but she does her best to stay up. She looks around to shake off the fatigue and meets your eyes, which have been on her since the moment she walked in. Three seconds is enough to make her look away in shyness, but it isn’t enough for her to examine you as her eyes lock with yours again.

She lets her eyes travel down your body to your toes slowly through(in) the window, alcohol erasing the fact that the subway is public. You pretend to neglect as she keeps eyeing you, head to toe several times, and the next stop the stumbly girl is forced to stand next to you by the crowd gushing in. Unavoidable contacts add leads to your eyes awkwardly meeting, which draws out mirrored smiles from each.

“Sorr-oh!”

A slight rattle of the train almost tackles her down but your arms are there to hold her from meeting the floor.

"Careful, you almost hit your head, could have ended up like our friend over there." You nod and gesture at old man asleep at the other end of the carriage

"He looks peaceful though."

"You think you can stand up by yourself now?"

"Of Course! I'm not even that drunk."

"The last time my friend said that, he ended up face down in a bush." As soon as you’re done talking she stumbles again to her embarrassment. And of course you keep her standing.

"So you didn't catch him?"

"He's not as cute as you." She laughs and blushes, palm on her mouth and the tone a bit too high for a laughter in a subway.

“Where do you live?” Change of topic, and you’re surprised that it’s her asking you, not the other way around as it used to be.

“Two stops before the terminus.” She checks where the train currently is, and stares at the map for a few dozen seconds as if her brain is still soaked with drinks, before looking back at you and pointing to the map.

“I’m getting off two stops later,” She blushes again, this time there’s even an awkward smile on her face. As if trying to say something shameful.

“And…” Her fidgety fingers dig into the arm of your shirt and her eyes are fixed on your shoes to never climb up. “And?” You repeat her, grin on your face because of her being so bashful and how overt her real intention is.

“And my name’s Minji by the way. Kim Minji.” It's trickery. A decoy. You almost burst into laughter but keep it down to a debonair ‘mhmm’ instead, hoping to bail Minji out of her own struggle to let the real words out.

And her phone rings. “No, not yet. Only two stops left. No, I don’t sound slurry at all, thanks. Oh my god, Hanni. I said I’m not that drunk! Yeah, I met a guy and maybe he’s taking me to my place-oh my god.” A brief moment of soberness washes through her body but her face is even rosier than ever. Over her phone you hear a woman shouting ‘hey’s and her name, but soon Minji hangs up. The train halts, and she just rushes between the crowd to get off out of shame but you catch her arm.

“Hey, it’s the wrong station.” She can’t look at your smirking face even facing you, face still red and fumbles the hem of her top. “Sorry for that… That was a total mistake.”

“It’s okay,” Minji raises her head, looks at you. “You’re drunk like hell, and you were going to say that anyways.” She's left speechless for a moment, then she opens her mouth to say something but frowns ignorantly.

“Why are you laughing? I was so embarrassed!” She's overtly trying to act cute and it's so working on you. With drunken red cheeks, slurry, lethargic pronunciation and on top of everything, her mesmerizing face. Even your most prior purpose is being threatened to melt by her exhilarating cuteness.

“It’s nothing.” But your lips just can’t hide your smile, and there is more than one reason; Minji’s being so clingy, which is what usually happens when alcohol infiltrates people’s brains, and it is an aid for you as always. And when the announcement informs you of the next stop, her babyish grumbles are gone and shyness permeates again.

“So… Are you going to take me to my place…?” You hold out our arms and guide the groggy girl out of the train. “After you.” Minji can’t subdue the chuckles from the dizzy liquor, how sensible you are, at least in her opinion, and the fact that you two are going to stay the night together in her place.

On the other hand, for you the reasons are somewhat different; it’s because tonight you made it, will see some pennies in your pocket and will be able to keep your stomach filled for a few more days. And she’s completely blind for that, giggling so innocently like what she’d do with her lover.

It must be her first time flirting with a guy. She can’t just follow anybody she likes. It’s dangerous. She can’t just trust anybody because he’s amiable. There could be a vice in his mind, transgressions at the tips of his fingers. Somebody should warn her about this, you think. How paradoxical. Maybe you won’t be doing this for long. But that’s something to worry about later.

All these thoughts pass through your mind in less than a second, and when you look back at her you see the green, innocent girl fluttered with excitement. “Lead the way please.” And she does.

******

“This is my place, it might be a little bit messy but-“ Minji opens the door and you close. “It’s okay. No one cares.” She sounds like the soberness has returned, but when you catch her ridiculously stumbling changing her shoes into slippers, ask if she’s okay, and she answers back that she’s alright, you just find yourself tentative about what’s in your mind.

“Are we going to kiss?” You know it’s a tipsy whim. You know she might not know what she’s doing. But it’s her asking you, not the opposite, she has no one to blame but herself, and you also know that she won’t. So you give it a go.

Her lips feel soft. You kiss her lips in a gingerly manner, eyes closed to focus all your senses to your lips. It feels like forever, but it’s obviously provisional so you do your best to find the perfect angle of your head, the right position of your hands, and the exact moment for your tongue to engage. A brief detach and then smoothly latch onto again, and a several times more, and in no time you two are completely submerged in the sensation, in the atmosphere and the feeling.

You open her lips with your tongue, and the key works so well you don’t even have to put any more effort to meet hers; she’s been waiting for it. When you taste her mouth, the alcoholic air hits your gustation and the olfactory sense—Jesus, how many glasses did she empty?—and you swallow it down to your body. Her tongue jockeys in your mouth, on your palate, around your tongue, everywhere it can reach. She’s so needy that when you try to withdraw for some air her arms lock you up and pull you in for a longer liplock.

But that doesn’t last long, before Minji herself pulls back to breathe.

“Minji,” Gasping, you call her name. She doesn’t respond. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom. It’s tidied up well unlike what she warned you about, but you don’t have any time to be infatuated with how neat her bedroom is, when her hasty tongue knocks on your lips to open up.

She really can’t hold it back as she redoubles the whirl inside your mouth. At this point you’re a bit shocked at how aggressive she has become—or, she might’ve been like this from the very start—but god, what a joy to reciprocate. But this desire is not a genital one, rather more like a sheer indulgence of the feeling itself as if it’s her first time.

“Minji, no one’s chasing you. You don’t have to rush.” Hands on her shoulders you say, in an assuring tone, to the panting girl in front of you. Regardless she dives in yet again, this time her hands dragging her jeans down, totally ignoring what you said. She doesn’t feel sorry, but neither do you when you can in fact enjoy what’s going to unfold.

You find it kinda cute to see that talkative girl in the subway all silent and busy with her hands with heavy breaths. It’s as if you have unbound her from the straitjacket—or the alcohol did—and her actual self inside was in need of some rabid lovemaking. No denial that she’s getting what she wants.

It’s hammy but a pleasure to watch. Her hands move to your top and hastily take it off of you, a sigh when it blocks the kiss. You’re overwhelmed as you take your pants yourself but Minji pulls it down to your ankles. Stepping out of them you push her onto her bed and crawl up to be parallel with her, eyes to eyes. When your erect cock brushes on her tummy she squints her eyes with a flinch. Her nerves are so worked up, whether it be from the intoxication she’s been in for hours or the anticipation. Or both.

“Minji, are you alright?” Her face is so red, her breaths are shallow and her teeth keep on biting her own fist. She just nods, eyes still filled with unrest; in fact you can’t tell if it’s concern or anticipation, but either way it’s your job to relax her.

And putting her hand off of her mouth and replacing it with your lips is what you come up with as a solution. As if you want to absorb the turmoil out of her. When your tongues meet and intertwine her hands climb up to the back of your head and pull you deeper into the trance. Time passes like that. Minji’s so lost in the sensation, and when you lightly put your hand on her breasts she moans into your mouth. The size is just unblemished for you to leisurely fondle, so you keep doing that until she detaches from the kiss, asks you to take her top off with a coo.

“You look so beautiful. Just relax, Minji.” She bites on your under lip when your hand softly squeezes her breast and plays with her nipple. The pain is an approval you’d gratefully take.

You slide down to her neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and finally to her crotch, peppering everywhere on your way with pecks and licks and making it glisten. And oh, her pussy lips are already glistening—dripping, soaking wet—with her own water, nectar so dense with desire. You glimpse at her and she nods desperately, underside of her lips bitten hard, as if when you latch your tongue on her sex it’ll bleed.

And when you do she yelps, sharp yet gutty, with her back involuntarily arching upward. “Ah, please…!” Is what follows her scream when you flick your tongue on her sensitive nub. You cherish her response and repeat it, eyeing her facial expressions and enjoying every furrow of her brows, every grasp on your hair and every squish of her thighs on your ears. It doesn’t take a while to reach the point where she loses control of herself. Where she loses her mind and cums with a scream. Your skull gets crushed between Minji’s fleshy thighs and your tongue drowns in her juices gushing into your mouth. It’s too saccharine, too flashy, beyond what you expected from her.

“You’re so good at that… I’ve never squirted like that before.” Minji looks spent. Chest heaving up and down quickly, eyes almost teary and her tongue barely pronouncing correctly. You climb up again and lock lips with her, letting her taste her own liquid.

“Nngh…” You coat your cock with her prevailing girlcum, scrub it on her entrance a few times and slowly, slowly enter her first with only the head. That summons the clingy girl into her again as her arms lock around your neck and she screams into your shoulder. It’s enrapturing to feel the head of your cock slowly discover deeper parts of her, to hear her material moans permeating into your bones.

“God, you feel amazing!” Is what she says when you are halfway inside her. You withdraw a little bit, and put in even more, to make your entire cock disappear inside her. Her arms almost choke you when she hugs you tighter and shouts ‘yes’s and ‘oh my god’s right next to your ear.

“Minji, I’m going to move. I’m going to fuck you.” You groan. It’s finally the time to unleash everything in you, all too stacked up from the agonizing foreplays. “Yes, fuck me. Make me cum please-oh my god it feels so good!” You’re not going slow at all. The smacking sound is music to your ears, and her moans melt your brain. So you go brainless. Hitting the right spot and making her cry every time. It's soft no more, and Minji finds it crazy. Her arms can't settle down but intermittently darts about on the bed.

“Minji, fuck…” You doubt that she can hear you in the room full of her orgasmic yelps and moans. “Fuck, I love it! So deep inside me, don't stop…!” Her legs flutter, eyes roll back and fingers dig into your arms helplessly when she cums on your cock hard. “God, I can't… I can't-” The girl shyly asking for a kiss is now gone, beautifully degraded to a girl enjoying, loving and getting overtaken by the pleasure teeming into her.

Overstimulated, Minji wriggles as if the sensations are throttling her. A few minutes you were caring about her more than you, but now your priorities are reset; you’re reminded of your purpose here, it's not for her sake, it's for you. And regardless of her condition you just push in, harder and deeper than each thrust, to the finish line. Her torso is turned red and at some point she's looking into your eyes, those subtle muscles beckoning for you to go for it, to cum.

“Minji, I'm cumming…! Fuck!” You splatter your seed all over her tummy and tits. The icing on the cake, an eye candy you're never going to be tired looking at.

“It was… Incredible.” Minji has a satisfied smile on her face. “Good to know you enjoyed it.” You nestle on the bed next to her, rearranging the wet strands of her hair out of her face.

******

Minji is asleep. Like nothing happened a few minutes ago. Like you're not in the bed with her. That's not an unexpected thing for you. You dress up, wipe your cum off her body. She's so pretty when sleeping, you think to yourself.

But right after that you take her purse; there are a few bucks and a credit card. And in the dressing table you find some fancy jewelry boxes.

It's bad, immoral. It's what you do for a living. Can't say you feel proud but not much of a guilt in your mind either. Maybe a little though. But only for this time. You actually liked Minji. Not that much, but you felt something different. Maybe you two can run into each other someday. And maybe you're hoping that happens, even though you know it won't help you in any ways. You can't explain it but there's something in your mind about what happened tonight.

But you carry on, find a pen and a post-it, write something down and stick it on her empty purse on the nightstand.

‘You don't even know my name, do you?’

******

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #minji smut #newjeans smut

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void-wolfie · 5 months ago

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I Can't Live Without You

summary: you and Jenna get into a fight, you get into a car crash before you can make amends [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

tw: swearing, arguments, drinking, a car crash (i'm probably missing something so let me know if i need to add anything)

words: 2.33k

a/n: one of my longest posts yet, sorry it took me so long to get to this request and even longer to post it. anyway, enjoy the angst :)

You stood there, frozen in place, watching the pair through the windows of the coffee shop. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them.

His hand was up her thigh, shoulders brushing with every passing word, her smile brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky. But that’s not what held your attention. No. The thing that held your attention the most, was the kiss.

You had no right to be jealous, it’s not like you were dating her. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You liked Jenna, you really did… maybe even loved her… And you thought, or at least hoped, maybe she liked you back. But the scene in front of you told a very different story.

The couple sat towards the back of the café in a small corner booth, just against the windows. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if you weren’t about to head into the shop yourself. And yet, there they were. Hidden away like two lovers on a secret rendezvous.

You backed away, back in the direction you came from. You had plans for today, but those could wait. Right now, you needed to get away… anywhere far away from that.

Jenna saw you. She saw you turn and walk off in the other direction. There was something about the way you stormed off that caught her attention, it put a knot in her stomach.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

You wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice if they saw you. You hated crying; it made you feel weak.

You patted down your pockets, looking for your car keys. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find them, and it took even less to unlock the car door.

“What’s wrong?”

Of course… You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.

You didn’t want to talk to her, not after what you just saw.

“Not now, Jenna. Please.”

You didn’t turn around, keeping yourself facing towards the car. You didn’t want to see her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to see you like this.

Jenna was taken aback. You told her everything. When something was wrong, you’d always go to her first. And now you were pushing her away? She couldn’t understand it.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under Jenna’s feet as she got closer. You didn’t move though, you refused to let her see you like this.

“Seriously, Jenna, I’m not in the mood.” You tried again to get her to go away. But her footsteps didn’t falter or change course… Nope, Jenna was going to give you a piece of her mind, whether you liked it or not.

You wiped your eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You didn’t want her to notice what a mess you were… Not like it would matter though, Jenna noticed everything.

Her footsteps stopped next to you. You could feel her eyes boring into you, her concern practically radiating off her. You didn’t budge though. You couldn’t. It almost seemed like the closer she got the faster your tears fell.

“Hey, talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, maybe I can help…”

Fuck… You hated the world. You hated yourself, you hated that boy, you hated everything. Everything but her… How do you even tell your best friend, the girl you’re in love with, that the reason your entire world is falling apart is because of her? She was your everything, and she destroyed you.

But worst of all, she didn’t even know it.

You still had your eyes closed, praying that by some miracle she would go away.

She reached out to hold your hand, anything to try and comfort you. But you pulled away.

Jenna tried to ignore the pain in her chest as you pulled away, the feeling of your fingertips slipping past hers was almost foreign. She knew you were hurting, but it didn’t make the ache in her own heart go away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to tell her it was all just a big misunderstanding, that you were fine. But you couldn’t. Instead, more tears fell.

Jenna would never be yours. Never anything more than a friend… The longer the two of you stood there the more the realization crushed you.

“No, Jenna. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out soft, muffled by the air caught in your throat and the weight of the world slowly suffocating you.

“Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” She was getting frustrated now, evident by the tension in her voice and her rising volume.

“Because I can’t!” You snapped, “Because for fucking once, you’re the only person I can’t tell!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s not your fucking problem!”

The second the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You didn’t mean it.

You never thought you could see someone’s heart break. You always thought that was the stuff of movies and shows. And yet, that’s exactly what you saw looking at Jenna. You saw her heart shatter. You could see the tears welling in her eyes, her hands looked like they were shaking, and her face twisted in anger and hurt. She seemed…

broken.

“Sorry I even bothered then.”

You didn’t even have time to interject before she turned on her heel and stormed off. And even if you did, you weren’t sure you would’ve said anything anyway. What do you say to fix a broken heart? What do you say when your own heart is crumbling to pieces?

You finally got into your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat.

You took a second to breathe and digest whatever the hell just happened.

You ruined it. You just ruined the only relationship that ever mattered to you…

fuck.

You slammed your hand against the steering wheel. You did it again and again and again, beating the crap out of the poor thing. You kept going till your hand was purple and blue and all the anger had finally faded away. All that remained was your shattered soul and bruised hand.

You’d give anything to take back what just happened…

You stumbled out of the bar door, your eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch-black sky after sitting under the tavern lights for so long.

After your fight with Jenna you decided to turn to the best distraction you could think of; crawling into the bottom of a bottle. All things considered; you’ve been worse off. You weren’t seeing double yet and you hadn’t fallen on your face. Both of which were good things considering how much you had to drink.

You fumbled for your keys, dropping them as you pulled them from your pocket. You bent over to pick them up, your stomach churning as you did so. You heaved, silently begging your body not to barf. It churned again. You nearly lost it, but the feeling seemed to pass as quickly as it appeared.

You looked down at the keys in your hand, quickly shoving them back into your pocket. If the way you nearly puked two seconds ago told you anything it was that you were too drunk to drive home.

You pulled out your phone, trying to think of someone who’d be willing to drive you home this late at night. You clicked the first contact you could think of.

You listened to the dial tone. Once, twice, three rings. Then to voicemail. You didn’t bother leaving a message, instead hanging up. It was crazy to think she’d pick up anyway.

You clicked a different contact, your brother. Once again, it rang only to go to voicemail. You tried your sister, but once again, no answer.

You looked over at your car, contemplating just how drunk you were. Your house wasn't that far away, maybe you could drive?

No. It wasn't worth the risk. You only lived a few blocks away, you could walk. You weren’t gonna be one of those idiots on the news who got a hundred years in prison for killing someone because they drove home drunk.

You headed towards the street, making sure to keep on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to stumble into the road like some drunk idiot, even if there weren’t any cars around. You decided to put on some soft music while you walked, the quiet beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind you could hear the rumble of a car. It was getting close and fast… definitely too fast to be safe. You turned behind you to try and get a look at the car, only to be met with bright headlights right in your eyes. It almost seemed like they were swerving but it was too hard to tell.

“Hello?” Jenna answered the phone with a sigh.

She’d been halfway through pouring herself yet another glass of white wine when her phone started to ring. She was just going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. Eventually, she decided to pick it up and tell whoever it was to call back tomorrow.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight from earlier. In fact, it was all she could think about all day. And the more she thought about it the more her chest ached. And the more her chest ached, the more wine she found herself pouring.

“Jenna! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?” It was her mom; she seemed worried, frantic even. She wasn’t sure why she was so worked up, but it couldn’t have been good.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause. A moment of silence. The tension that seeped into the air sent chills down Jenna’s spine.

“Mom?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Now she was even more confused. Did something happen? “You’re scaring me, Mom. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun. I was worried, I thought you might’ve been with her when it happened and- ”

“With who? What happened?”

“Oh,” she could hear her mom’s voice cracking from the other side of the phone, it only made her more worried, “Sweetheart… There was an accident, a bad one.” Her mom didn’t need to say your name, Jenna already knew exactly who she was talking about.

Her mom kept rambling, but she was hardly listening. Jenna made out some words; drunk driver, life support, critical condition… but all she could think about was you.

“What hospital?” Jenna interrupted. She loved her mom, but the conversation at hand was far from her mind. She needed to see you, she needed to know you were going to be okay. You had to be okay… she wasn’t sure what she would even do if you weren’t.

“The hospital just off of thirteenth street-”

“What floor?”

“The ICU-”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t care how many stoplights she had to run or what laws she had to break. She’d be there in fifteen minutes, damn the consequences.

Before her mom could get another word in, Jenna hung up the phone.

True to her word it only took her fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, a feat which should’ve been nearly impossible given how far away she lived.

Jenna ran up to the nurse’s station, frantic and out of breath, “Where’s-”

Before she could finish her question alarms started blaring. Rapid beeping shot out from the computers, lights began flashing outside one of the rooms, everyone jumped out of their seats. All Jenna could comprehend from the chaos was ‘Code Blue’ and ‘Room 143’.

She watched the nurses rush down the hall towards the flashing lights, she noted doctors and other nurses rushing towards the same room as well. One of the nurses closed the blinds while another closed the door to keep the family from watching from the hall.

It took a few seconds before she realized she recognized the family. She noted your brother, looking pale and emotionless. Your mother, tears streaming down her eyes and holding onto your sister, who was crying herself, for dear life.

The alarms, your family, the term ‘Code Blue’… the realization of what was happening hit Jenna like a freight train.

“No…” Jenna didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t. “No… No, no, no, no -”

Her legs were carrying her before she even realized what she was doing, her body acting off instinct.

She nearly tripped as a pair of arms latched onto her, holding her back from storming into the room. She tried pushing the arms off, her sights still set on the door in front of her, but it was pointless. Whoever had her wasn’t letting go.

Tears clouded her vision, but she could hear the doctors inside your room clearly; demanding voices talking about drugs and techniques, the sound of the defibrillator going, different nurses and doctors all talking over one another.

She needed you to be okay. You had to be okay.

Then, just as quickly as it all started, everything went quiet.

Jenna’s pleading had stopped, lost to her hoarse voice and sobbing cries. The doctors had all gone quiet, there was no more talk of treatments or drugs. The familiar tones of the defibrillator had stopped, no more sounds from charging or discharging. All that remained were the normal sounds of a busy hospital.

The loudest sound of all though, was the one sound that was missing. Your hospital monitor had gone silent, most likely turned off by one of the doctors or nurses. No alarms, no ticks or beeps, just cold steady silence.

“Time of death, twenty-three fifty-seven.”

Jenna heard one of the doctors say it, almost as clear as day. She never thought one little sentence could hurt her so bad, and yet, having her heart ripped from her chest would’ve been less painful.

You were gone.

Not just gone…

Dead.

#void-wolfie #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega

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itsmiyamore · 8 months ago

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— drunk (in the front of your car)

"With you I’m drunk in the back of the car" — Cruel Summer, Taylor Swift Part of the drunk (on you) miniseries

a/n: posting in celebration of The Dumpster Battle movie filling me up with life again and also my birthday coming up this week! Updated taglist form here <3

Sakusa Kiyoomi regrets every decision he's made that has led him up to this point.

He knew better than to get wasted at his team’s night out—he always was a lightweight; so how was he here now, trying to not put too much weight against you as you try to walk him to your car?

Maybe it's the alcohol hitting his system that's making him lightheaded, or maybe it's the scent of your shampoo. He gets the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck and maybe stay there forever. Yeah, that would be nice, he thinks.

Then he gets the urge to throw up, and the next thing he feels is your warm hand rubbing his back as he pukes into a trash can. He hates the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth, scrunching up his face, momentarily forgetting the situation he’s in.

"Hey, Sakusa," you gently say, startling Sakusa back into his senses. His skin tingles where your hand still rests. "Sakusa?"

He looks up at you, and he's suddenly hyper-aware of how he probably looks like absolute dogshit right now. He doesn't really care though.

(He does.)

He must've murmured a response because you smile at him—god, you have absolutely no right to be doing this to him—and you say, "Are you feeling better?"

Keep talking, he wants to tell you. You're beautiful. I think I'm in love with you. But he just mutters, "Yeah I'm good."

He goes red when he stumbles a bit, the soft giggle that slips past your lips only deepening the shade. You help him into your car, then you lean over him and god, Sakusa thinks, he wants to kiss you so badly.

You're only buckling his seatbelt, but you’re too close and it’s too much, and then you're looking up at him and saying something, but he can't hear you over the thundering of his heart. He wonders if you can hear it; surely you can, because he's shaking as he looks into your concerned eyes. He glances down and sees your tongue quickly swipe over your bottom lip and that's it, he thinks.

You pull away before he can muster the courage to lean in.

His headache is back when the radio comes on full blast as you start the car, followed by your flustered apology. He tries not to stare out the window at the bright city lights, but it's hard when on his other side is the one person he can't handle being alone with.

Not sober, at least.

(Nor drunk.)

At the next red light, you turn, reaching for something in the back. You twist back to the front, handing Sakusa a water bottle. He glances at it skeptically and you grin.

"It’s unopened, I just bought the pack earlier today."

He nods, thanking you, and as the car starts moving, you glance at him again, still grinning as your eyes meet.

He almost chokes on his water.

He doesn't even notice when the rain starts. Absent-mindedly, he watches a drop of water trickle down the window, then another, and another. Before long, the rain makes a thick gray curtain over the city; a loud crack of thunder startles Sakusa out of his reverie.

That, and the soft string of curses that slip out of your mouth.

He watches you as you mutter to yourself, not registering the fact that the turns you're making aren't the way to his apartment. You park somewhere, and you smile sheepishly at him, saying, "Hey, since it's raining pretty heavily right now, I hope you don't mind, but I brought you to my place. It was a lot closer."

And maybe it's the thoughts from earlier still swimming in Sakusa's mind, or maybe it's the way he can't say no to you that he somehow manages to say, "I'll be okay for the night."

(No he won’t.)

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ramp-it-up · 1 month ago

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Peach, Part I

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky, not for love, but because it's the right thing to do. You are a struggling dance teacher in Atlanta. And what is the quickest way for a dancer to make money in the A? When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: Okay. I can explain. Yes, I got carried away with this one too, but have you met me? It's what I do. I feel like we're gonna get a little more angsty with these two, but the payoff might be good. Idk, I just hope that you like it!

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and comes a couple of months before the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part is coming by the end of the week! ☺️

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, angst, financial difficulties, cute tiny dancers, familial feelings, feelings about besties being in love (third wheel?), Steve the businessman, shady people, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, a lil bit of voyuerism (involving dancing) exotic dance life; pole dancing, wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

———

Late October

Steve Rogers was frustrated.

His best friend Bucky had recently fallen in love, and instantly Steve’s life became an urgent race to divest their Art business of illegal ties so that Bucky could begin his life with her.

Together with Sam and Natasha, Bucky and Steve ran an art import business in New York which was extremely lucrative.

Except that it wasn’t really.

“Just wait until I see you tonight, Frumoasă….”

Steve glanced over at his bestie, who was turned away and whispering into the phone with a giant grin on his face. Steve shook his head and looked out of the window of the car that Nico was driving uptown to a meeting. He rolled his eyes.

More phone sex with Bucky and his girl. Great.

“Behave. Or I will make you…”

Steve cleared his throat as he listened to the suggestive chatter and shifted in his seat. Bucky and his girl were burning hot.

All of the time.

It seemed impossible.

“I love you too, Frumoasă.”

Steve needed what Bucky had in his life. At first he thought he was jealous. His best friend had an extremely desirable woman who made him drop the player lifestyle the instant he saw her. It took Steve a minute, but he realized he wasn’t jealous of either Bucky or his girl; Steve was jealous of the feeling.

When Bucky ended the call, Steve tried to continue the conversation they were having.

“Everything good?”

Bucky smirked, a look on his face that Steve hadn’t seen before his best friend met the love of his life just weeks earlier. It was an amazing transformation.

“Everything is great.”

Then Bucky frowned.

“Except this timeline. We need to get clean, Steve. Faster. We’re going to have to travel a little more before the end of the year.”

The blond raked his hand over his face.

“Bucky, I get it. Believe me I do. But we’ve already tripled the rate of divestiture. Are we to quadruple it? Is it really worth the money we’ll lose?”

“I don’t think you get it at all, Steve. But you will one day. “

Bucky gave Steve a look that made him roll his eyes again.

“I’ll take the losses, Steve. You and Sam and Nat will get the agreed upon cut.”

Bucky gazed out of the window.

“Billionaires shouldn’t exist anyway.”

Steve sighed.

“We all agreed to speed up, and we all agreed to an equal split of the profits. And losses.”

The two men shared a knowing look. Steve assented.

“Okay, Buck. Let’s get Sam and Nat on the phone; I just want it all to be square. You know they want this just as much as you and I do.”

Bucky smiled at his friend, the oldest he had in the world.

—--

Early November

You smiled at little Amina, who was trying her best on her pliés. Although she was only four years old she had a determination like no other. Her little tongue was poked out and there was a scowl on her adorable little face.

You came over and smooth her brow and took her tiny chin in your hand.

“Relax, Mina. If you’re not having any fun, it’s not worth it. Don’t force it, sweetie.”

Amina smiled back at you and began to giggle, relaxing into the poses.

“See there! It’s better already!”

You widened your smile and spoke to the entire class of 12 little 4-6 year olds. They were adorable in their uniform black leotards and pink tights.

“Remember dancers, hard work and lots of fun, that’s our motto. And one, two, three….”

Amina’s mom, Michelle, came up to you after class.

“Here’s what I have Ms. YLN.”

She deposited half of what monthly tuition was into your hand and held it for a beat. Her eyes were watery but she had a brave smile on as she glanced over at Amina giggling with her classmates. Then, she lowered her voice.

“I’m afraid this will have to be her last class. I just can’t come up with the funds… She loves it so much… We’ll miss seeing you every week.”

Your heart shredded. You made a knee jerk decision.

“It doesn’t have to be her last class. I will send you the paperwork for the scholarship. I’ll see you both next week.”

You smiled and gave both her and Amina a hug as she skipped over to you.

“Thank you, Ms. YLN. So much!”

You smiled and nodded as they left the dance studio that you rented for your weekly classes. The tuition you collected barely allowed you to pay the rent, much less compensate you for your time and preparation.

But you were determined to help these little ones with their dreams. And to see your own to fruition.

—--

“You can’t keep letting these people put dance classes on layaway, Cousin.”

Heat bloomed in your chest. Your favorite cousin, who had everything she ever wanted, whenever she wanted, growing up was joking about layaway. Even now, she had an insanely hot, wealthy guy eating her up. Literally.

“Okay, you know what…”

“Calm down. I will finance little Amina Rickard’s monthly tuition before you cuss me out. You know I love you. And you knew sending me that picture of her was gonna work. Making my ovaries explode.”

You smiled, almost choked up.This was your cousin’s second scholarship student and your family’s 8th overall. You were really blessed, even though things hadn’t come easy for you.

“I think the guy who is trying to breed you all over the place is making your ovaries explode, but okay.”

“Y/N, YLN! I am a demure, respectable–”

“You’re a whore for that man and we both know it.”

“Girl, you ain’t lyingggg! Shit, he’s calling me now…”

“Go get that nut video.”

Your cousin laughed at you.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, and thanks, Sistercuz.”

“Bye Sweetie. Have a good night.”

Easy for her to say.

—---

The jet was delayed in New York because of snow and Steve was late getting started. After he landed and was sat in Atlanta traffic, he was reminded that he wanted to be in and out of the city, preferably in two days, and on to Kansas City as soon as possible.

Atlanta could be a fun time, with many many beautiful women, but he was on demon time. He needed to get rid of the criminal enterprises in the company. Quickly.

The holdings in Atlanta consisted of a handful of exotic dancing establishments. And the strip clubs in Atlanta were known to be dens of considerable iniquity. He was sure it would be easy to make a decision to offload the five clubs in the area.

On the second day, Steve had quickly turned a profit on the first four clubs, borderline dives with mid-level girls. The drugs and prostitution levels were off the charts and there were plenty of shady characters who wanted a chance at those businesses.

He’d saved ‘the best for last,’ a supposedly upscale club called Regine in midtown.

It was supposed to be a classy place, so Steve decided to just drop in to check it out before making a decision. He arrived a little over an hour before opening, stepping into the kitchen from the back alley where he parked his rental car.

“Hey, yo! You the new bartender? I told you to be here at 2, not 2:45.”

The salutation came from a huge guy with a large belly and lots of teeth. He’d be scary to anyone else. This must be Sully. Steve recognized him from the file. He decided to play along, glad that he’d dressed down in a flannel and jeans.

“Yeah, well. Traffic.”

Steve thought it best to say as little as possible. That way he would get the most information.

��Shit, you don’t have to tell me. I have to drive here from Alpharetta every day. The 400 is hell every morning.”

“We need someone with some experience. Someone willing to be paid in cash tips, nothing on the books. You look like you’d prefer that.”

Steve stared Sully down, not debunking the myths the latter was making up in his mind. Sully kept talking.

“Also may need to do some security. We get into some… situations up in here.”

Sully took in Steve’s stature and unwavering stare.

“A man of few words I see, Looks like you’ll do. Can you start tonight?”

Steve couldn’t believe this joker, hiring someone off the street.

“Sure.”

This place was not looking like a keeper, Steve thought as he followed Sully for a tour. In daylight, it was passable; in the dark with the right lighting, he was sure it looked swank. Sully told him how to water down the liquor and where the firearms were kept. When his 30 minute orientation was over, Sully left Steve to set up the bar on his own.

“Cory just called in, but Mike will be in later. You should make a lot of tips, our girls are top notch.

Steve just nodded, his hands on his hips as he calculated how much Sully must be skimming off the liquor alone as the latter walked away. Sully came back to the bar and asked a pertinent question.

“Oh yeah. What's ya name?”

“Grant Stevens.”

A little white lie would never hurt anyone, especially if this situation got sticky.

“Aight. Nice to meet you Grant. Tips are not the only perks of this job, if you know what I mean.”

Steve shuddered as Sully lumbered away. He wanted no parts of perks.

—-

A couple of hours later, the girls started arriving, most of them greeting Steve with a polite hello, some skipping it with a grimace, some in their phones, and one, you, listening to music and vibing out. You were different than the weary women who’d passed by ahead of you.

Steve was struck at the serene look on your face as you entered the establishment, braids in a bun on top of your head, eyes closed and your mouth pursed as you hummed and bopped your head to the music, bag slung across your back.

Your skin was dewey, free of make up and those lips, well those lips were what made him do a double take. Your neck was graceful and the cropped hoodie you were wearing did not do a thing to hide your full curves, smooth skin, round tits, long legs, and all that ass. Steve’s palms began to itch.

Steve was convinced that the strip of stomach showing between your hoodie and your sweats was more alluring than any stripper outfit could be, because at the sight of it he broke out in a sweat. Your body was calling him to touch, but he didn’t even know who you were.

He was about to find out however.

Steve stepped to the edge of the bar, ready to give a greeting, but you just bopped on by, oblivious and making your way to the dressing room. It bruised his ego, but the sting was soothed by the sight of you walking away. He stood there for a full minute in shock, but then he shook his head and went behind the bar to drink some water.

“Get it together old man,” Steve grumbled to himself as he tried to cool down. He set about talking to the employees in the kitchen to get more intel on this establishment. The sooner he had enough info, the sooner he could put this one to bed and get away from distractions.

Like you.

—--

“Did you see the new bartender? Just put him on stage, I’ll climb him like the pole.”

"Dat azzz tho."

“Right? And did you see those eyes, those lips? Pretty fly for a…”

You frowned at the chatter around you. You really had to pay more attention to your surroundings. You didn’t notice any new bartender. But knowing these ladies’ taste in romantic partners, you’d bet he was overrated.

You sighed and put your earbuds back in; there was no time for nonsense. You had to warm up properly to protect your instrument: your body.

You looked down at your watch and saw that the doors would open in 45 minutes. You had 20 minutes to go and warm up and still have time to get changed. You sat down to trade your Jordans for your stilettos and make your way out to the pole.

—-

When Steve walked back to the bar from the kitchen, there you were on stage under the lights in a crop top and short shorts.

Again, you were oblivious to him.

Steve, on the other hand, was undone.

Your skin glowed everywhere,and he noticed that you didn’t seem to have augmented anatomy, not that there was anything wrong with that. He just knew that if he had a handful of that ass, it would be real. He stepped behind the bar to watch you, a convenient barrier between you and Steve’s stiffening cock.

As he watched, you moved slowly, the motion elegant and mesmerizing in the six-inch heels you were wearing which elongated your beautiful legs.

Lost in your own world under the lights, you looked ethereal, a goddess.

You approached the pole and held on with one hand, walking around and around it seductively, hopping a few times in the heels, making your ass shake with the impact. It was hypnotizing, watching your strong arms and legs, especially those legs, grip the pole as you worked your body around it.

Then, you let your hands slide down the pole, causing you to bend over and showcase your luscious ass and thighs. Steve imagined that they tasted delicious.

Next, you straightened up and walked around until the pole was nestled in between your asscheeks, widened your legs and undulated on it. Never in Steve’s life had he wanted to be an inanimate object until now.

When you turned around and body rolled on the pole was when Steve had to grip the bar. And when you slowly twirled down to the floor and went spread eagle, beautiful legs in the air, was when he felt like vaulting over the marble bar to get to you.

You rolled over onto your knees and started undulating, then started crawling toward the end of the stage closest to him.

Steve knew the exact moment you noticed him.

You froze, looking like a startled feline. Squinting, you moved your hand over your eyes so you could see beyond the lights, then pulled out your earbuds and got to your feet effortlessly.

—--

You thought you were alone with your music and your fantasy of dance that got you in the headspace to strip for strangers. You didn’t notice anyone out in the club until you were almost done with your warm up routine, when, as you looked up from the floor you saw a large figure behind the bar.

You froze, a moment of something like fear, but more like a thrill, passing through you.

As your eyes adjusted to the area beyond the lights, you saw a tall, muscular body and longish hair. This must be the new bartender. You got up and approached him, trying to analyze your feelings about the situation before you addressed the man.

As you got closer, your temperature seemed to rise. Must’ve been the workout.

His warm denim blue eyes were gorgeous and that dark blond hair and reddish beard were thick and lustrous. Although the beard was a bit wild and wooly, there was no hiding the pink, full lips under that straight, masculine nose.

His body was lithe, but muscular, and you sensed his power. You bet he could pick you up and hold you upside down as that beard scratched the inside of your thighs to lick your…

Wait. Where did that thought come from?

You were objectifying your new co-worker.

That would never, never do. You vowed to be professional.

—-

Steve straightened up as you came near. The look on your face was hard to read. Whatever it was you were feeling, Steve felt like an intruder.

Even though he had the deed to this building in his bag.

“Hi.”

It was all he could think of to say as you stood before him because his mind was empty. With you up close, the only thing he could do was stare. Your scent was like a drug and your eyes were…everything. He gazed into them, a myriad of colors that were holding him captive.

Then that mouth started moving.

“Hello. You the new barback?”

“What?”

Steve leaned closer, pretending he couldn’t hear you, just to get nearer. It wasn’t entirely game; he was quite distracted by you.

The side of your mouth curled up in a sardonic smile and a sudden, funny feeling spread throughout his stomach. He gave you a side grin in response to your side eye.

“Are… you… new… here?”

“Yes, I am working in the bar. I’m Steve…ns. Grant Stevens.”

You extended your hand to him.

“Nice to meet you Grant. I’m Peach.”

“Peach?”

The word gave Steve visions. He stared at your lips, thought of your ass, imagined your juices dripping down his chin.

“Yes,” You smirked. “Peach.”

Steve was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Since you’re new here and probably haven’t gotten paid yet, I won’t charge you for the private dance.”

Steve’s mind was moving slowly. Like he was drugged.

“That’s a stage name, right?”

Peach. It had to be a stage name. Yet it suited you so perfectly. Suddenly he wanted a taste test.

Steve licked his lips and your eyes followed his movement as you proceeded to not answer him. He unconsciously started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and gave you his full smile.

You grew even warmer, from the friction of course, and blinked at him as if you were facing sunlight as you pulled your hand from his.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry for eavesdropping? Spying? Watching you dance without you knowing? Don’t know what to call it. But beg your pardon.”

—--

“Don’t beg.”

‘Dont beg here,’ is what you wanted to say.

You don’t know why the vision of this man on his knees for you flashed in your mind. Maybe it was his velvet baritone, or maybe it was the feel of his rough hand on yours that got you all bothered, as if his smile hadn’t already made you wet.

He was tall, a good head taller than you, even in your heels, and a looming presence. In a good way. You wanted to be enveloped by him. But you didn’t even know him.

You had to get it together, but the scent of his cologne was making your mouth water to taste him. You were weak for this man.

You hated this feeling, didn’t have time for it, yet you weren’t ready to end the conversation just yet.

“I mean, I felt some kinda way when I first saw you here, but hell, I don’t own this place. And neither do you.”

For some reason, Grant’s face did a thing. A weird frowny sad thing, but you barrelled ahead.

“You’re a worker, just like me, and you were just getting your work station ready, just like me. Solidarity, man.”

“Yeah. Solidarity.”

Grant cleared his throat.

“Great moves up there.”

—---

You grinned, blinding him this time. Steve’s discomfort that his ‘little white lie’ was spreading to you dissipated when you smiled at him.

He just knew that your smile could heal any ailment, if he were allowed regular doses of it for the rest of his life.

“Thanks, friend. They make me a lot of money three nights a week.”

You pushed off the bar and started walking back to the locker room as Steve chuckled at your immediate friend zoning.

“And if you like that, stick around for the show.”

You threw a look over your shoulder that made him want to follow you anywhere.

As he watched you leave again, Steve Rogers knew that he needed a little more time to figure this place out.

—----

Steve was concluding that Regine wasn’t the worst, but nothing extraordinary. The women in makeup and costume looked good and the tips were flowing; he could see how this was a money maker.

He had his suspicions about Sully, but he still had little evidence about the quality of the place. He needed to see all of the dancers.

Steve wanted to see you dance. For research purposes.

He was busy at the bar all night, so much so that Sully had to come by and made four money drops. This place made much more profit than was being reported, that much was clear as Steve’s eyes followed Sully back to his office with the cash.

He was about to follow him when you brushed by him, ensconced all in white.

“Excuse me. Gotta get to the stage, Comrade.”

Your wink distracted him from the fact that you were wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and boots.

Wait.

Were those spurs?

Mesmerized, Steve leaned on the bar to watch your show.

The stage went dark while the guitars started. There were whistles and stomps from the floor, cries of Yesss! Peach! Go Peach! Ride me Cowgirl, and Pour some liquor on me honey tooooo! reverberated in the room.

These were grown men and women.

And by the time the first line of the song played, “This ain’t Texas…”, the crowd was in a frenzy and in the palm of your hand.

Steve suddenly understood the customer’s enthusiasm.

The way you moved on the stage, your props, the way your body captivated everyone in the place was astounding.

You were brilliant.

You were what made Regine extra ordinary.

—---

You were bone tired by the time 3 am rolled around and the club closed after two full sets. You’d made $700 dollars in tips, not bad for a Tuesday, considering that you didn’t do any private dances. You were yawning as you passed the bar and Steve stopped you to say goodnight.

“Hey Peach. You were fantastic tonight.”

He shook his head.

“It was the first time I’ve seen that prop used on a dance club stage…”

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he replayed the image of you spinning on the pole with the stick of the hobby horse between your legs.

You spared the handsome blond an appreciative glance and a tired laugh.

“Thanks, Grant. I try to be original. Hope you did well tonight.”

“I did pretty good.”

Steve smiled as he would if $500 dollars excited him.

“Hey, one of the customers at the bar told me to give you this. Said he was shy?”

You looked at him warily as you took the envelope. Inside was $1000.

“Holy Shit!”

You looked up and covered your mouth, your girlish piety endearing to Steve, who chuckled at you.

“There’s a stack in here.”

“Whoa! Cool.”

Steve tried to look as if he didn’t know there were exactly 10 hundred dollar bills that he’d put in there.

“Guy must really like you. Could it be a regular? A special friend? An ex perhaps?”

Steve was not being very subtle, but he didn’t have much time. You were smirking at him in that way again.

“My regulars are regular shmegular degular, and cannot afford to tip me one thousand dollars. Must be a high roller rolling through the A.”

You smiled, but decided you needed to be tough. You straightened and gave the most menacing glare you could manage.

Steve thought you were adorable.

“I don’t know who would have done this. I don’t have any special friends or exes in this city. I’m all work. NO play. In any way. Especially at work.”

You hoped your hard look worked. Grant was certainly watching your mouth as you spoke, so he must have caught what you meant, right? When his eyes flicked up to yours, your knees got weak so you decided you should go.

“‘Night, Grant.”

You turned and walked out of Regine, a certain warmth in your chest. Must the $1700 in your bag. Or the chicken wings. Nothing to do with the beautiful man you knew was watching until you got into your car.

Steve made sure that you drove off safely, and then followed you home as he thought about how efficiently you’d curved him.

Once you went into your apartment, Steve called Bucky and told him that he needed a little more time on this enterprise.

This one was a peach.

-----

Okay. I hope that you liked it! Let me know by reblogging please!

Part II

#knock you down au #knock you down fic #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x dancer!reader #steve rogers x curvy reader #steve rogers x stripper!reader #mob boss! steve rogers #bucky barnes #mob boss! bucky barnes #chris evans #chris evans imagine

227 notes · View notes

luvyeni · 7 months ago

Text

ROADTRIP ,, 한지성 이필릭스

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee felix x han jisung x fem!reader wc. 5k+

genre. smut, b2l, poly relationship

𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs ... threesomes, heavy mxm themes, dry humping, soooo much sexual tension, car sex?, voyeurism, unprotected sex, oral sex ( m. receiving ),

nia's notes. been a minute since i posted a long one and since its the theme is fitting.

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ masterlist! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

although you desperately needed this vacation; you hated packing for it.

“why do i need 3 different bikinis?” you threw the bottom's into your suitcase; felix on the other side of the phone. “because we'll be there for three days, dummy.” you scoffed. “yes three, but i won't be in a bikini the entire weekend; why not two?” you asked. “well one for the beach; two for the pool— wait, why do i need two for the pool?”

“yn i don't know; jisung was the one to say you needed five— no i don't care she is asking too many questions, if you're gonna be a pervert don't invite me in it, say you want her in a bikini all weekend and go.” you laughed at your two best friends. “yn he wants to see you in a bikini all weekend.”

“i-i never said- why do you both do this to me? the boy whined. “i just asked how many bikinis do girls normally bring on vacation? five was just a random number.” he tried to explain himself. “sungie no need to defend yourself so much if you don't mean it, you must really want to see me in a bikini.” you heard him sigh. “im gonna crash this car.”

the three of you met during your first years of university; all of you fresh out of highschool, unaware of what you wanted to do; taking comfort in each other's company, spending the next three years glued to each other, spending weekends and holidays together; studying together, sleeping over each other's apartment everything.

a month before; during the finals, it took a lot out of all of you, so you came up with the idea of going on a summer road trip, staying in an airbnb, and just having fun together.

“we're outside, hurry up , I want to make it to the airbnb as soon as possible, it's still early we can order dinner.” felix said. “okay I'm coming now, let me just grab my hair brush.” you said. “I'll be down there soon.” you hung up the phone.

jisung sat in the back seat, felix using the passenger seat for his snacks for the trip there, watching you exit the door of your building. “jisung watching her like that makes you seem like a creep.” jisung rolled his eyes. “don't act like you don't look at her the same way, don't act like you didn't come to her call at 4am when her air conditioning broke.” the boy responed. “sure did” the boy confessed proudly. “ you don't know how to fix an air conditioner felix.” felix turned back to the boy. “she didn't have a shirt on.” jisung said, you opened the door. “i didn't really care about the air conditioner.”

“what?” you stood there while felix got out to put your suitcase into the car. “who didn't have a shirt on?” you asked. “you.” felix got back into the car. “would you get in the car, letting all the cold air out.” felix said; you ran to the other side of the car, getting into the back next to jisung. “hi.” you smiled at the flustered boy. “h-hi.” he looked out the window to mask his red face. “now when didn't I have a shirt on?”

fellix pulled off; beginning your three day journey. “i’m so excited.” you squealed excitedly. “i needed this, school kicked my ass this semester.” felix nodded, the GPS giving him the directions. “i want to go lay on the beach all day, the whole weekend.” jisung groaned next to you. “that's a lot.” you rolled your eyes. “of course you think so sungie, you hate being outside, period.” you chuckled, tapping his face. “i’m surprised we were able to drag you out of the apartment for this.”

“and miss you in a bikini?” felix commented from the front. “not a chance, you know how much material that is for our sungie that is?” that comment would have offended you; creeped you out if it were any other guys, but you guys always talked to each other like this, flirty banter and touches; but it never escalated— well except that time you and felix drunkenly made out at a house party. “s-shut up.” the boy stuttered out. “don't worry, I didn't bring five , but i bought three i'm sure you'll love.”

the ride was calm after that, felix focusing on driving, occasionally cursing at the drivers; jisung to your right, his earphones in as he took in the scenery. you scrolled mindlessly on your phone, boredom taking over you, you began to fidget— jisung took notice of this. “are you okay?” jisung asked, taking his headphones off. “i'm fine.” you smiled. “are you comfortable?”

“my legs are a little cold.” he watched you rub your bare thighs to keep them warm, he always liked your thighs, the plushness, he would often daydream about how they would feel if he laid his head on them, or squeezed them in his hands— or how they would squeeze around his head while he ate you out. “i-i can tell lix to turn down the aircon,” he said, gulping; trying to free himself from those thoughts. “no it's fine, i have a blanket i can use in my bag, but it's in the back.” he quickly turned around, grabbing the bag. “this?” you nodded, he handed you the pink fluffy blanket. “thank you sungie.” you threw the blanket over your lap. “here.” you scooted over, covering his lap with the blanket. “now we're both warm.”

that was his problem, he was too warm, and being under this blanket did nothing to stop his mind from running wild; which made his body heat up more. now you weren't dumb, you could feel his presence on you, every time you moved your legs he would look at your thighs then you, before turning back out the window— you thought it was cute, he was cute.

he was back to looking out of the window, when he felt your head on his shoulders. “turn the radio up.” you told felix, he did, telling you not so much so he could hear. “thank you lixie.” he could feel the heat from your breath on his neck. “i love this song.” he froze, feeling your hand on his knee. “you like this song sungie?” he nodded, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. “i-its okay.”

he was fucked. he could feel his pants tightening around his lower region, rubbing his knee, all the way up to his lower thigh. “y-y/n.” he whispered, you squeezed his thigh, he grabbed your hand. “n-not here.” He said. “why not?” you whispered in his ear, not really helping his situation. “he's not watching one is watching.” you managed to get out of his hold— there wasn't much of a hold, he barely was putting in any effort to ‘restrain you.’ “he can't hear us.” he felt the wetness of your lips on his neck. “and you know want this.”

your hand finally reached where you wanted, he looked down at you, desperation all in his eyes. “you're so hard.” you gasped; “what did you think about all the bikinis you get to see me in?” you palmed him lightly. “i bought them just for you.” he bit his lip, trying not to moan. “or was it my thighs.” you teased. “you haven't kept your eyes off them since i got into the car.” he felt you unbutton his pants, your hands making its way into them, running your hands along his clothed cock. “you're so big.” you pulled his underwear down. “poor thing you're leaking.”

he turned his head as a way to conceal his moans; you took his heavy cock into your hand, slowly stroking it. “fu-fuck.” he hissed as you ran your fingers along his tip. “i wish i could see it.” you said. “i bet it's really pretty.” you squeezed him, stroking faster; he threw his head back, making you stop as felix turned back. “ji?” his head tilted to the side, looking into the rearview mirror. “you good?”

he could barely answer, your hand still on his cock. “ye-yeah.” he stuttered. “my legs are just a bit tired.” he e said, the blonde haired boy turned to you. “y/n?” You hummed. “i'm fine.” he nodded. “we should be there soon.” he turned back around, both of you letting out a sigh.

you turned your attention back to the boy. “you gotta be quiet.” you kissed his cheek, keeping up your movements. “don't want him to hear you cumming all over yourself right?” you said. “you're gonna cum aren't you?’” he nodded. “then cum for me.” you commanded , he lowered his head, letting out a sigh as he came all over your hands. “fuck.”

you pulled your hands out of his pants; his mess dripping from your hands, his mess getting on the blanket. “do you feel better?” he nodded, his cheeks flushed. “you look so cute when you're cumming.” you wiped your hand on the blanket. “so cute.”

just like that you were back to doing whatever you were doing, jisung tucked himself back into his pants , looking around making sure no one saw what you were doing; putting his headphones back on; staring out of the window, you rested your head on his shoulder, innocently this time, closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep; so unaware that felkx knew what you were doing under that blanket, the look in his friend face as you kissed him, stroking his cock, making hard as a rock.

“we're here.” felix pulled into the house driveway. felix got out of the driver's seat. “jisung wake her up.” he grabbed his extra snack before grabbing his bags. “wh-what?” the boy stuttered. “um, because she's laying on you.” he scoffed. “why else would i ask you?” was the last thing he said walking up the driveway, jisung swore he saw a smirk on the boy's face.

“y-y/n.” He tapped you. “yn we're here.” you moved around, eyes fluttering open. “we made it to the house.” you sat up, stretching. “finally.” you said tiredly. “i need to stretch my legs; and unpack before dinner” you said, “you might want to go now, before felix tries to get the better room.” you got out of the car, he got a good look at your ass as you walked up the driveway.

he quickly packed up everything, still holding on to the blanket; opening the door, walking up the driveway as well. “you here finally.” felix said with a smug smile. “you got a good look at her ass?” he folded his arms. “i wasn't looking at her ass.” jisung tried to defend himself. “who are you telling me or yourself?” he walked away from the boy. “close the door on your way in.”

jisung made his way into the house, taking his shoes off, felix standing at the kitchen island unloading the alcohol and snacks you'd need for the week. “this house is nice.” he said , noticing your absence. “what? looking for yn?” felix chuckled putting away the things. “i was just wonder- she's in the bathroom if you'd like to join her.” he turned towards the boy, looking around the room, noticing his menacing smirk. “is it finally clicking?” he said. “i thought it would at least be a day before it happened, but not in the back of the car with me in it.”

jisung wanted to crawl into a hole and die as they teased him. “did you really think i didn't hear you moaning?” felix stepped forward. “jisung i’ve heard you moaning countless of times.” he said, caging the boy against the counter. “i know what you look like when you're cumming, remember?” felixs eyes wandered to his lips, smirking; backing up letting the boy breathe. “don't worry, i won't tell her I know.” felix said, “or what we've done.” jisung nodded. “but if all bets are off like we promised,” he said. “best believe i'm getting something out this week.” he winked. “doesn't matter who either.” was the last thing he said before walking to his room.

after you all unpacked, you joined each other in the living room where felix had chinese food waiting for you both; you talked about what you were going to do; shopping and spending the day at the beach. “and there's a hot tub.” felix said. “really?” you asked. “lets get in.” you jumped up. “i’m gonna go change.” they watched you run up the steps. “you coming?” felix asked jisung, standing up. “to the hot tub?” the boy was stressed, of course he wanted to, but seeing you both in a bathing suit may send him into a coma. “duh; if you are, hurry up and get dressed.” the boy followed behind you.

you made your way back down the steps, outside to the back of the house where the hot tub and pool where felix was heating the water up. “is it ready?” he turned to you, his mouth dropped open, the dark blue bikini stuck to your body— well what little of the fabric there was did. “what if you just take it off, there's no point of it?” felix smirked. “might as well give our jisungie a full peek.”

“you love to blame him, but i think it's you.” you said smugly, walking past him, his eyes traveling down to your ass, getting into the warm water, sighing. “maybe it's you who wants a full peek.” you tilted your head to the side, he chuckled, climbing inside with you , the water coming up to his waist. “please.” he made his way next to you “if i wanted to, i would just.” he stood in front of you, his arm coming to your back, finding the string. “fe-felix.” he smirked. “take it off myself.”

you heard a cough, you both pulled away. “jisung, you made it.” you smiled. “y-yeah, i was having a hard time finding my shorts.” he said. “get in.” you invited , he slowly got into the pool, sitting on the other side , completely different from you and felix; you were practically sitting on the boy's lap. “why are you sitting so far ji?” you grabbed the glasses sitting on the edge, filling the two cups with the alcohol, handing one to felix. “i got you a beer sung , I know you don't like strong alcohol.”

“look at her so caring.” felix teased. “she can be caring when she wants to can't she ji?” felix asked. “always taking care of you right?” jisung looked past you right at him, where he was smirking. “i like taking care of him.” you said, he took a sip of his beer. “you like when i take care of you sung don't you?” he could feel himself getting hard. “ye-yeah.” he stuttered out. “oh like she did in the car?” jisungs eyes widened. “please if im gonna sit here and watch you eye fuck each other im gonna say something, and it's not like she didn't know i saw.”

“i did, i just didn't care.” you shrugged. “why are you jealous?” you now turned to felix. “wishing it was you i was touching?” you floated back over to the boy. “making you cum?” the air had definitely shifted between the three of you. “or are you jealous that i was the one to make sungie cum and not you?” you knew what those two had, it just wasn't your business. “i could make you both cum right now easily baby, i'm not jealous in anyway.”

jisung didn't say anything, just watching as you both got closer and closer to each other , until felix closed the gap; kissing you, his hands traveling down to your ass, squeezing it. jisung couldn't believe his eyes, watching you both make out in front of him, his cock could though, it twitched with excitement.

your hands tangled up in felix hair as he pressed you against the hot tub, tugging at it. “fuck.” he sighed, pulling away; pressing against your neck. “lix.” you moaned, both of your bodies, grinding against each other. “wh-what about sung.” you finally acknowledged the boy in front— felix smirked, pulling away, lips covered in your gloss. “he's free to join if he wants.” the boy turned back to you. “he better make up his mind now, before i take you right here in front of him.”

“um.” the older boy gulped, he so badly wanted to get in between you both, but he was scared. “not tonight.” he said. “im really tired.” he said. “the door is always open.” felix was quick to drag you out of the hot tub. “good night sung.” you smiled. “fuck come on, i’m fucking hard.”

“oh fuck!” jisung couldn't get rid of his hard on, especially when he could hear both of you moaning on the other side of the wall. “fuck deeper lix.” his hands traveled down to his pants, palming his erection. “fuck, you're so fucking tight.” he pulled his pants down , his cock springing , he hissed as the air conditioned room hit his leaking tip.

he wrapped his hands around his base , moving his hands up and down, listening to both of you going at it , it didn't matter who voice he heard , all he could do was imagine what you two looked like; how high pitched your voice got when you were close, how deep felixs got when you tightened around him, letting you know how he was gonna cum.

before he knew it, cum was spurting from his tip , cumming all over his chest and hands. “sh-shit.” he cursed as his hand got all dirty, but he kept going, stroking himself over and over until he could hear both of you cumming, he followed right behind you. “fu-fuck i can't.” he whined , pulling his hand away from his sore cock, he heavily breathed , soft cock sitting on his stomach, covered in his release.

he got out of bed , his post nut clarity hitting him as he cleaned himself up with a towel, climbing back to bed, the sound of you both still going at it as he drifted off to sleep.

he got up the next morning, the house was still quiet— getting up stretching; rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. he did his business, brushing his teeth before making his way back to the bathroom, felix standing there made him jump. “i heard you, you know?” he asked.

“we both did.” jisung looked down at the ground. “if you felt uncomfortable you should've said— i wasn't uncomfortable.” he said. “i wanted to join.” he confessed. “so why didn't you?”

“i was scared,” he said. “of what, she literally jerked you off in front of me.” he said. “i-i know , but this is different.” he said. “i just don't know what to do with both of you.” he said. “you just need guidance.” he said , inching closer to the boy. “let us do that.” he took the boys hand. “i-is she good?” felix smirked. “so fucking good.” he bit his lip. “you’ll fucking cum as soon as you feel how tight she is.”

“is she the only one you're desperate to see naked?” the blonde haired boy pouted. “not me?” he now had the boy pressed against the wall. “you don't miss how i feel against you.” felix could feel the boy's cock hardening. “i guess you do.” jisungs hips moved involuntarily, felix cursed; ready to go again. “w-we can't do this out here.” jisung stuttered. “why not?” felix hummed , grabbing the boys waist to steady him as they rubbed against each other. “you're about to cum, i can feel your cock twitching.”

the boy was right, he did know his body like back of his hands. “fu-fuck lix.” he cursed. “I'm gonna cum.” he whined. “then cum for me, no one is stopping you.” felix grabbed the boys face, kissing him hold him up as they both came. “fu-fuck lix I can't.” the blonde stop, wiping the drool from the elders face. “still sore from last night?” he smirked. “fucked yourself to sleep.” jisung whined. “stop.” felix laughed. “let's get cleaned up before she wakes up, you know she likes coffee and breakfast before her day really starts.”

“let's go to the beach today.” you finally had woken up, coffee and breakfast waiting for you curiosity of felix. “i want to get out of the house.” you said, jisung could see all of the marks felix left on you, all the way down to your exposed chest. “sure we can, it's why we're here.” felix sat down next to you. “ji you coming?” he nodded, smiling. “yeah.” you clapped. “great, let's eat and get dressed so we can go.”

after breakfast you all went to your respective room, doing whatever; getting dressed when it was time , making your way to the car. “you gonna sit in the front with me, or you're sit in that back and make our sungie feel good again?” you rolled your eyes, turning to jisung. “i’ll leave him be for now.” you climbed into the front seat.

the drive down to the beach was nice; the air felt good, jisung and felix looking at you and how beautiful you were. felix knew, he knew his feelings the day he kissed you at that party; jisung on the other hand , his hit him like a brick, and he didn't know what to do.

“she really is something.” they both watched you tan from the water. “yeah she is.” felix said. “so we both have feelings for her.” jisung said. “and she clearly likes us both.” felix saw you sit up , looking at them smiling, waving them over. “and us?” the freckled boy asked. “do you like us?” he pointed in between them. “i-i do.” he said. “i really do, i like you both.” felix smiled, grabbed a hold of the boys hand. “well then it's settled.”

you saw them walking up to your towel; hand and hand as they sat down. “and what is this?” you said, smirking. “what was said when i wasn't ear shot?” you asked. “the same thing i told you last night.” felix smirked. “well you know after you regained conscience.”

truth is, after last night, felix did confess to you; and his feelings for jisung. it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders , hearing him say that; holding that in by yourself took a toll on you, constantly fighting with your feelings for both the boys. “and?” you looked at both of them. “fortunately for you, you’ll never have to use that useless ass vibrator you keep in your top drawer.”

hearing that he felt the same made your heart swell; never did you think you'd be here today. “let's go back to airbnb.”

the sat in the back with jisung on the way back; you held his hand, leaving little kisses on his fingers. “she can be pretty loving when she isn't horny.” felix said from the front. “well that doesn't mean im not horny, im just really happy.” you said, kissing his cheeks, watching them turn red. “really happy.”

the three of you made it to your airbnb, taking your shoes off outside. “i need a shower.” you said, feeling the sand everywhere already. “join me?” you held your hands out. “both of you.”

you thanked the gods, the people who owned the house had a walk in shower, big enough to fit all three of you. “i fucking hate sand.” you ran the water, getting rid of your clothing, the boys staring at you, making you stop. “are you both gonna just stand there or are you gonna stand there and be perverts?” you climbed into the shower, the boys undressing, getting into the water. “fuck that's hot!”

“you're gonna have to get used it if we're gonna be showering more frequently.” your purred, felix seeing the look in your eyes, forming a plan in his head. “baby why don't you give our sungie some love.” he ordered. “he's a bit nervous about this whole thing.” you pouted, turning to the boy. “don't be nervous.” you whispered in his ear. “we'll take good care of you.” your hands raked down his chest, he moaned as your manicured hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “i promise.”

your hand moved up and down, running your thumb along his tip. “fu-fuck please.” he whined, giving himself to you completely. “feels good baby?” you kissed his neck. “so-so good.” he threw his head back against the shower. “get on your knees.” felix said. “get him off like you did me yesterday.” felix cursed, stroking his cock slowly as he watched sink down to your knees , taking the older boy into your mouth. “oh my god.”

you bobbed your head up and down. “pretty you can do better, take him deeper.” your hands squeezed his thighs as you took him fully into your mouth. “oh fuck , im gonna cum if you keep doing that.” he groaned, you gagged around his length, making his legs shake. “fuck fuck fuck.” his hips tangled up in your hair , pushing you down on his cock, holding it until he came. “fuck im sorry.” he said as you pulled away. “i got carried away.”

“don't worry she likes it, look at her face.” felix got tired of watching, grabbing your hair much like jisung did. “told you, look at her drooling over my cock.” he tapped his tip on you lips. “open.” he commanded. “good girl.” he pushed your head down. “just like that.” he sighed. “love this mouth already.” he held it still as he abused your throat. “fuck.”

felix pulled jisung into a passionate kiss, his other hand grabbing a hold of the boys cock, which was even harder than before. “so fucking hard.” he groaned. “fuck does that feel good?” jisung nodded. “so-so good.” he whimpered. “i-im not -shit- I'm not gonna last.” he felt the sensation building in his stomach. “fuck me too, I'm gonna cum.” felix pulled out of your mouth, stroking himself and jisung. “open your mouth.” he let jisung go. “fuck I'm cumming.” felix groaned , cumming. “fuck!” he cursed , his release hitting your cheeks and lips.

“come on sung , cum for her look how bad she wants it.” the blonde hair boy encouraged the boy who stroked his cock, he looked down at you, your face covered in cum, lips swollen; the boy's cock twitched in his hand as he released himself all over your face.

giving up on the shower , the three of you stepped out ,hands all over each other's as you made a way to the bedroom, the bed getting wet from your bodies as you climbed on top of jisung. “you ready?” he nodded, you slowly sunk down on him. “fuck he's so big.” you moaned out, as you fully took him in. “don't move yet.” felix got behind you, holding your waist. “think you can take us both?”

you nodded, moving your ass against him; this made jisung moan. “easy.” felix said. “don't make him cum before i get inside you.” his hissed as he pressed the tip of his cock against your already filled cunt. “fuck, baby it's okay.” he slowly bullied his cock inside you. “goddamn.” he sighed , you we holding yourself up planting your hands right besides jisungs head, as felix filled your cunt, both the boys inside you now. “wa-wait fuck.” jisung whined.

he could feel it all, the tightening from your cunt, the twitching from felixs dick— it was all too much. “shit if you don't move, im gonna cum.” he said , sweat rolling down his forehead. “told you she was tight, you ready baby?” you nodded. “please move.” all three of you began to move, han bucking his hips up, as you moved your hips up and down, felix controlling how fast you went. “fuck let's speed this up.”

he gripped your waist as he began to fuck into much rougher, all three of you moaning out. “fuck i can feel both of you.” his voice was deep and dripping with lust. “fuck sung your cock keeps twitching -shit- you gonna cum?” the boy below, nodded. “fuck sungie.” you whined, “please cum inside me.”

that's all he needed before he was cumming; your legs shaking as you followed him , cumming; a white ring forming around their cocks. “sh-shit.” felix pulled out, stroking himself, his release sprouting from his cock, hitting your ass and jisungs thighs. “fuuuuck.” he finished himself.

the three of you laid down in felix; fully showered and dressed, your legs tangled up with each other. “so now what” jisung was the first one to speak. “do we just go home after this and never speak of it, or do we actually give this a try?” he asked. “how do we explain this to people?”

it was silent before you spoke up. “We don't explain it, it's none of their business.” you said. “i like you both, i want to be with you both.”

“yeah but people will talk.” felix scoffed. “let them talk , we all like each other and we aren't hurting everyone.”

hearing you both, jisung felt comfortable; knowing you both would protect him. “don't worry ji we both got you.” he smiled. “now what should we do tomorrow.” you asked. “i know what we should do.” felix smirked against your skin. “we aren't staying in the house the entire trip and having sex , I want to go shopping.”

jisung smiled listening to you both go back and forth. “we can easily do both.” he spoke up. “see now that he can have you whenever, he's gonna let his perv flag fly.” felix said , your head resting on his forearm as he ran his fingers through jisungs hair. “st-stop calling me a perv.” he said. “did you give her back the black panties you stole?" you shot up in shock.

“i thought i lost those, i swore i was going crazy !”

©️LUVYENI

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