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sungbeam · 8 months ago

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nonidol!jung sungchan x f!reader

at some point beneath the glittering summer sun and along evening tides, you and sungchan tripped over the line drawn in the sand.

▷ genre, warnings. brother's best friend!au, friends-ish 2 lovers, family vacay + sungchan lol, swearing, kissing, fluff, humor, sungchan does go shirtless (it's a beach), mentions of food, mentions of alcohol; lee jeno, sohee, and anton r ur brothers! (so u have the lee last name but u "look more like ur mom"); barely proofread, also im sorry if this is boring my head has not been in the game for Months

▷ word count. 10.0k

DISCLAIMER: i DO NOT actively write for or stan riize; this is literally just a birthday present T-T so if dynamics/personalities aren't right, i literally don't know these guys 💀

a/n: happiest birthday to my beloved soulmate and wife @justalildumpling :')) i hope u like it <3

OFTEN when you came back home from work, your joints and muscles ached to the point you could barely stand, your hair felt gross on your head, and your eyes stung from dehydration and sleep deprivation. That was the toll of working closing shift at the restaurant you worked at, and had been working at, for the past several years.

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see the lights in the house still warm and bright when you got home either. Your family was a handful of night owls, not discounting yourself. They had witnessed you in this particular rat-nest dump of a state time and time again, which was why you didn't worry about looking like Death Incarnate.

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body.

Sitting on your living room couch was not a family member. Though, he might as well have been a part of it from how much you had been seeing him lately. Jung Sungchan was your older brother Jeno's best friend, but Sungchan was in your year rather than Jeno's. The two met via the high school soccer team and had been good friends since.

Years later, he was sitting on the living room couch, nearing one in the morning, his hair damp from a recent shower, T-shirt sleeves rolled up his shoulders, and his phone paused from the game he was playing. Your brain was too tired to even register the amount of muscle packed onto his arms (what the fuck—).

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He chuckled sheepishly, reaching up to ruffle his dark hair, grown out slightly.

“What are you doing here?” You blurted instead. Exhaustion meant that conventional politeness was completely defenestrated. It was one in the morning on a summer night… usually your older brother was out clubbing or drinking (not that you were any different, but you worked quite a bit more nights lately).

Sungchan's eyes danced up and down your form. “Jeno and I decided we're gonna pull an all-nighter for the road trip in—” He glanced over at his phone, “—seven hours and just knock out in the car. How was work?”

Road trip? Car ride? If you could just make it to the shower… “It was fine. Tiring,” you said with a sigh. You trudged over to the far side of the room, behind Sungchan, into the kitchen. You grabbed a cup to fill with water, then drained it down your throat just as fast as it had been filled.

With water in your body, your systems were finally coming back online. Road trip. Car ride. Your eyes widened. “Oh my god. I have to pack.”

“You haven't packed yet?” He queried, tone light and teasing as he watched the progression of your panic with amusement. “Even Jeno's packed.”

You sputtered back at him, “Quiet, you!”

Sungchan's warm laugh followed you out into the hallway and all the way to your room. You couldn't understand why your face felt so hot; you should have been too preoccupied to be embarrassed, after all.

You slammed your bedroom door shut, dragging a hand down your face. You couldn't believe Sungchan just saw your I-just-worked-for-eight-hours-in-customer-service face. Not even some of your closest friends had seen the aftermath of your night shifts at work yet.

Crazy.

It wasn't every family vacation where a plus-one was invited. Your family tried to set aside time for these trips just for the six of you, but this time was an exception. Somehow—you weren't a part of the delegations—Sungchan was invited on this summer's trip to the coast. Your mom mentioned offhandedly it was because Sungchan “was a nice boy,” or something to that effect. Your family rented out a cabin right along the beach for a week, and the lot of you were going to be stuck in the family minivan for a good eight hours together.

And if Sungchan was tagging along, that meant you were going to have to fight for the middle row seat or—

“Yn—you’re in the back with Sohee and Anton.”

You came to a screeching halt on your way out of the house, a bucket hat shielding your puffy eyes from the waking world, your duffle strapped over your shoulder. It was seven hours later—an ungodly eight in the morning. “What? Nuh-uh; I don't think so.”

Jeno stood only a few meters ahead of you by the door of the minivan, his hands primed on either side of his hips as if he was the self-proclaimed guardian of the car seating chart. “Well, I said so. Sungchan has longer legs than you—”

“Why don't you sit in the back then?” You shot back with a saccharine sweet smile. You were too tired for this shit.

Sungchan scratched the side of his head as he walked out of the house to stand by you and join the argument, his flip flops thwacking against the ground. “Uhh, I can sit in the back middle seat. It's cool, dude.”

“Sungchan's too tall for the middle seat,” your dad interjected. He took yours and Sungchan's bags to add to the trunk. “Yn's in the back. Sorry, hon.”

“Dad,” you groaned.

“You can switch with Jeno half way.”

“Dad!” Jeno squawked this time.

Your father gave a tired sigh, saying more than he would ever say aloud. “Everyone in the car. Can't you two be like Sohee and Anton? At least they're knocked out.”

“They know they'll be sent to the back without question,” you pointed out as you made your way to the minivan. As you passed by your brother, you sent him a very potent stink eye, then clambered into the back row.

Like your father had said, your younger brothers, Sohee and Anton, were already dead asleep. Their mouths hung open wide enough to catch any wayward fly with their heads angled back against their neck pillows. You snorted and snapped a photo of them to add to your collection of brotherly blackmail.

Your mom was settled into the front passenger seat already queuing up driving directions to get to the coast. From your perch in the middle, you had a clear view of her phone screen—seven hours and two minutes. Yay.

You supposed there wasn't anything too terrible about the middle seat; you were out like a light as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway.

When you woke up, it was about four hours later, and your parents were having a hushed discussion amongst themselves and Sungchan. A baseball cap had materialized on top of Sungchan's head at some point when you were asleep, and the sleeves of his T-shirt were once again rolled up to expose his muscled shoulders. Did this guy not have a tank top?

“...I like it, at least—well, I don't mind all the extra requirements, and I know it'll help me reach my ultimate end goal, so.”

Your mom let out a hum of approval. “Ah, that's good that you like it. You'll be busy as a nurse.”

Right, Sungchan was in the nursing program. Your brother wasa kinesiology major, and you were going into law. It made for quite the diverse pool in the car.

You opened your mouth in a yawn and fumbled your hand around your lap for where your earbud had fallen out of your ear, carefully so that you didn't shake off Anton's head on your shoulder. (Oh no, was he drooling?)

“Yn-ah, good morning,” your mother teased quietly.

You glanced up, eyes going wide when you realized both your mom and Sungchan were now peering back at you. “Morning,” you murmured. Your fingers enclosed around your fallen earbud to tuck it into the case left in the bag at your feet.

“Sleep well?” Sungchan piped up. There was that twinkle in his eyes, the same one from last night. It made your stomach twist in a way that was more pleasant than not.

You cleared your throat, unconsciously reaching up to adjust the placement of your bucket hat and praying you didn't look like a sewer rat. “For the most part,” you replied. “How about you?”

He shrugged. “I had a decent power nap. Your mom says you're going into law. That's really cool.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Thanks. And you're in nursing, right? That's cool, too—super admirable.”

Sungchan's mouth widened into a small grin. “Thanks. It's only our first year, but it feels like so much work already.”

“Right? Tell me about it…”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the family van pulled into the parking lot of a diner off the interstate, exactly halfway through your journey. The seven of you, weary and hungry, filed out of the vehicle and into the establishment. You and your parents slid into one booth, while your brothers and Sungchan occupied the one behind you.

There was a low-spun fan swirling above your heads, an 80s song you vaguely recognized wafting through the air at a dull decibel. Your phone was stashed away in the bag tucked into your end of the booth seat while you idly sipped on your glass of iced water.

You jolted at the feeling of something light hitting the back of your head.

A gasp from behind you.

You rolled your eyes, twisting around in your seat while picking the wadded up straw wrapper from your hair. “Who did it?” You deadpanned.

The boys table was filled with sheepish expressions, to their credit. Your younger brothers, who were sitting on the far side facing you, thrusted their fingers in each other's faces in a torrent of blame and accusation.

“Aish, never mind. I don't care who did it,” you dismissed. Your eyes caught onto Sungchan's. He sat just diagonally to your left and for some reason, his eyes on you made you feel warm.

You flicked the wrapper back; it hit Anton square in the forehead. Jeno barked out a laugh.

“Nice shot,” Sungchan nodded, extending his fist to you.

You couldn't suppress the smile from coming onto your face as you bumped his fist with yours.

Food arrived swiftly afterward, and it was demolished as quickly as it came. In the sway of a palm tree frond, the seven of you were back in the confines of the family minivan.

The remainder of the car ride carried over quickly. Though Jeno unhappily sat his ass down in your previous spot with you claiming his from before, he and your other brothers snored away five minutes in. You didn't go back to sleep despite having a full belly and less than five hours of sleep under your belt; you watched the world pass by outside the window in a blur.

Urban skylines melted into rolling emerald mountains and pastures, sank into palm trees and sandy shores that met a blue horizon as far as the eye could see.

The beach house your family rented this year was a two story cottage-type. It was small, with only one bedroom and bathroom upstairs, a bathroom downstairs, and a living room and kitchen. The rest was all beach. It was determined that you and your mom would be given the honors of the upstairs bedroom and bathroom, while all the boys piled into the living room.

Once everyone was settled in, there was little else to do but go make use of your new backyard for the next week.

“Yn! Come on, slowpoke!” Sohee shouted at you from the shoreline with cupped hands. You saw his bare back as he splashed into the waves after Anton, who was already only a speck in your vision.

Your bare feet sank into the sand, and you wiggled your toes between the warm grains. Sunshine, glorious and concentrated above the distant horizon, soaked into your skin. Ah, this was the life.

Just as you reached for the hem of your shirt to reveal your bathing suit, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Jeno and Sungchan were coming onto the beach from the front of the house, a disassembled volleyball net hanging between them.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head at the sight of Sungchan's back—

Before Jeno or any of your other brothers or Sungchan could catch you ogling, you gave yourself a nice, mental slap to the face. No more. You needed to stop this. When did you ever look at Sungchan like this?

(You could still remember when he was the gangly kid with the growth spurt trying out for the high school soccer team. He was paired with Jeno to test his potential, and the rest was history.)

Sungchan was the first to spot you as he and Jeno determined a place to set up the net. He beamed boyishly, his chin inclining toward you. “Hey, wanna play?”

Your eyes flickered to the corded necklace hanging from his collar and between his—Yn, shut the fuck up. “Sure,” you said simply, feigning nonchalance.

If he noticed your wandering eyes, he didn't comment. Instead, he nodded back at you. “Sick.”

You both turned back to your original tasks. Your hands went back to the bottom hem of your shirt to tug it up and off your body. (Maybe you weren't the only one with wandering eyes, though.)

You draped your clothes over the back porch railing and began making your way down to the shoreline. “I'm gonna take a dip and then come back up!” You said to Jeno and Sungchan.

“Oh, okay—ow!”

You didn't see nor hear what happened, but when you glanced back, Sungchan had his back turned to you as he furiously rubbed the back of his head, while Jeno smiled innocently.

Your older brother waved you along. “Carry on!” He said.

Walking backward for a couple steps, you shot him an incredulous look, then turned around to meet your little brothers in the ocean. Whatever.

You had been staring at the wooden ceiling above your head for the past forty-five minutes. Your mom's even breathing and the ocean waves rolling outside the window failed to rock you into unconsciousness. You'd figured the sunlight from this afternoon would have made you tired, or perhaps all the food you ate for dinner, but your eyes continued to stay wide open.

A quiet sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled over onto your side and gently peeled the covers off. With near silent footsteps across the oak floors, you slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The cacophony of combined snoring from all the men in the living room was comparable to the volume of the waves just outside.

You barely contained your snort of amusement. You didn't worry about waking any of them up as you crossed the living room, full of a smorgasbord of limbs and bodies draped across the large couch sectional and blankets on the floor.

The back door was left unlatched when you reached its threshold. Outside, moonlight dappled across the calm sea like a sprinkling of diamonds. You slowly pried the door open, freezing.

You and Sungchan made eye contact from across the back porch. He was perched on the top step, nursing a bottle of beer in his hand. A loose breeze wafted through the strands of his hair.

“Sorry,” you whispered, moving to retreat back into the house.

“Oh, no—please.” He patted the empty space next to him on the porch step.

You blinked, at odds. He was clearly out here for a reason and you'd figured he wanted some space, but if he was inviting you, then…

You closed the back door behind you and settled beside him, with a comfortable amount of negative space between your bodies. You folded your arms over the tops of your knees and stared out at the midnight horizon. It smelled of salt and sea spray, and the light wind was a refreshing crispiness against the humid evening air.

“Couldn't sleep?” He murmured, glancing over at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He hummed in response.

“I'm not surprised,” you said. The corners of your lips curled upward. “I wouldn't be able to sleep amongst my brothers either. Their snoring could wake a bear.”

Sungchan sputtered out a laugh as his eyes crinkled upward and he pressed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. “I wasn't gonna say it, but…”

You shared a grin with him. “I will happily say it for you, dude.”

His eyes were stunning in this lighting. The moonlight hit his irises at an angle that made them shimmer like a shade of molten copper. He licked his lips, and you saw his eyes dart from your eyes, down a few inches, then further down to the beer bottle in his hands.

“Oh, uh,” he stammered, tipping the bottle nose in your direction, “want some? I thought the alcohol would help me sleep, but it's not looking awfully promising.”

For a split second, your heart leapt at the thought—your mouth pressed against the place his mouth had been, tasting the place he'd drunk from.

You dashed the thought from your mind. It couldn't have been so significant as your brain was making it out to be. You were probably just sleep deprived.

“Thanks,” you said while reaching across the gap to accept it from him. Judging by the weight, it was just about half full, and you took a light swig.

A drop of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your lips, and you swiped it with the pad of your thumb, sticking the finger into your mouth to suck it off. You passed the bottle back over to him, catching his eyes not looking at yours.

(The organ in your chest was no longer in your chest. Was it normal for your heart to make a home in your throat instead? Why did he look at you like that?)

“Any reason for not being able to sleep?” You asked him to break the silence. “I mean, besides the symphony my brothers and dad are conducting, of course.”

His eyes shuddered, as if breaking out of a trance. “Oh, uhm—nothing in particular, I guess. Maybe it's just from all the excitement. I think it's usually hard for me to sleep in new places.”

You bobbed your head in understanding. “No, I get that. It takes me a little to get used to new environments, too. I don't know how I would have survived if I was living in the dorms at uni and not at home.” The university you attended was a decent commute from your house, so living on campus was never something you gave much thought to. The idea of living independently appealed to you sometimes, but in general, you didn't have a ton of qualms against your circumstances now.

“For sure,” Sungchan whistled lowly. He contemplated the opening of his beer bottle, then took a gentle sip of its contents. “Have you made a lot of friends? I feel like it's a lot harder than people make it seem.”

You passed him a curious glance this time. “Some, but it's definitely not as easy as high school. You haven't made a lot of friends?”

“The soccer team, mainly,” he chuckled. “The occasional ally in my classes.”

You let out a bright laugh that made his smile widen. “'Ally?’” You parroted. “What a fun word to call classmates.”

“It's true!” He insisted, chuckling. “Some of these professors are evil, man. Competitive grades? Not a chance,” He scoffed. “We're all in this together, even if the curve is against us.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud, but the rolling waves likely covered your noise plenty. Your family were deep sleepers.

“I just figured that you meet lots of people,” you offered when your mirth died down to a giggle. You toed a pile of sand sitting on the last step of the porch. “Your socials are pretty active,” you said, “but I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover.”

“I could say the same about you, Miss Party Girl,” he smirked. “When are you gonna drag me to a rave?”

Heat raced up to your cheeks. “I've only been to one,” you said, rolling your eyes. He'd seen that post? First, the post-work daze, and now, the turnt raver? “I haven't gone to a party in a few weeks 'cause of finals anyway.”

Now that you thought about it, you'd been so busy as of late, you couldn't even count the amount of outings you'd declined on your two hands.

“Trust me, I get it.” He raised his hands in an act of surrender, his knees angling toward you. The negative space was suddenly a lot less negative.

Another tip of his beer bottle; it swapped hands once, twice more. The liquid dribbled smooth down your throat just as Sungchan knocked the rest back. The empty glass made a dull thunk sound as it hit the wooden porch to Sungchan's right.

“So what I'm getting,” you drawled, mimicking his position by angling your knees toward his. You felt your legs brush—the stimulus sent a jolt down your nerves that warned of addiction and tasted like the forbidden. “Is that you've never been to a rave before?”

Sungchan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe I have.”

You mocked his shrug. “Maybe you have.”

“Or maybe it's just that I haven't gone with you yet.”

Even the waves seemed to quiet for a second. Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, and you tied down the nervous laugh ready to bubble out of your mouth. You bit your lip and found yourself nodding. “We'd paint the town red, Jung Sungchan,” you murmured.

There it was again—that flicker of his gaze to some place you both knew crossed a line. It was the beer, was what you were telling yourself. It was the beer.

Seagulls surfed the ever-blue sky. Eternal summer could be thought of as a filter of golden, glittery gauze across one's already rose-colored glasses. But summer, truly, was the shade of Jung Sungchan's tank top peeling off his body as he sprinted down the sandbank after your brother, Anton.

You watched the fabric whip around in the salt breeze before settling into a heap where his footprint melted into the mineral grains. You were giving Sohee the sunscreen spritz-down up on the covered porch, while Jeno barreled down the bank after his friend and brother.

From behind you came the scratch of the back door sliding open. You and Sohee peered back to where your mom poked her head out.

She just barely caught her sunglasses in time as they slipped off her head. “Hey, your dad and I are heading out. Watch each other, okay?”

“Got it!” You and Sohee chirped.

One more nod from your mom, and then she was gone. Your parents were going to take a date into town, just the two of them. That left you and the boys here with the surf and sand—definitely not a terrible compromise. If you wanted, you could probably have the whole house to yourself, anyway. These guys could entertain themselves.

“Yn! Sohee!”

Jeno arced one arm up into the sky to beckon you down to the sea, only to get dragged underwater by his two comrades. You and Sohee harked out twin laughs as you watched Jeno fight for his life with limbs flailing and foam flying into the sky.

You patted Sohee's shoulder as you set the can of sunscreen onto the porch step. “Alrighty, you're good to go, bro.”

“Thanks—race you down!”

“Hey!” Your laughter echoed as you bolted down the sand after him to join the fun.

As your feet dug into the wet embankment, your palms made purchase against Sohee's shoulders to shove him into the water. A yelp leapt into the air, and you turned away to avoid getting hit in the face with the consequence of your prank.

“I'm so gonna get you for that!” Sohee spat water out of his mouth, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips.

“No, you're not, actually!”

You bolted—well, stomped, your way through the knee-deep water, furiously trying to get away from karma. Water yanked down on your limbs in a forceful coax to give into your punishment, but you were determined.

You could hear your brothers’ hollers of encouragement: “Get her, Sohee!” and “RUN, YN, RUN!”

Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you pushed your legs harder.

“I got her!” Wait, was that Sungchan?—

You suddenly felt a pair of hands on either side of your waist—you swore as your legs came out of the water and your world twisted.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You squawked, squirming wildly in Sungchan's arms as he scooped you into his hold like a bride. (NO. NOT LIKE A BRIDE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A BRIDE?—) One arm cradled your back and the other under your knees, and he laughed—he chuckled—as you attempted to flip yourself out of his grasp.

“You're not getting out of this, party girl,” he said close to your ear.

For a heartbeat, you lost your breath at the rasp behind his words and the grin on his face. But a heartbeat was all he needed.

There was free fall, and then all sound muffled as cold water engulfed your body. You plugged your nose and screwed your eyes shut. You felt your ass hit the sand at the bottom in slow motion, before the air in your lungs began to lift you back up to the surface of the water.

You broke out with a gasp, hair flipping back as you furiously swiped your hands down your face to get the water out of your eyes. They stung like a bitch, but you could feel the rush of blood in your ears; it was thrilling.

A hand in your vision enclosed around yours.

“You asshole!” You scowled up at Sungchan from where you knelt, though it was half-hearted.

He beamed back at you boyishly with damp hair hanging in his eyes and water running down the crevices of his stomach like a goddamn system of canals. “You're a good sport, Yn.”

“I'm really not.”

You had the distinct pleasure of seeing the smile slip off his face before you used his grip on you to yank him into the water. You swallowed a good half pint of saltwater, but the revenge couldn't have been sweeter.

When Sungchan's head broke the surface, it was followed by a dog-like shake of his head. You laughed to turn away from the spray of water; Sungchan delighted at the sound.

Amusement still lingered on your lips as your eyes snagged on the piece of seaweed that made its home on his head. You didn't think twice about it before leaning closer to reach it.

You stepped forward, and—oh boy, was that a mistake.

You had a front row seat view of a droplet of water slipping down the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the cliff of his chin. You wrestled down a swallow, and pulled the seaweed off his head, flinging it into the water.

“You had, uhm, a little…”

“Right, thanks—”

You both flinched apart as a man-made wave of water crashed into your sides. “AMBUSH!” Your three brothers declared, springing up out of the water and parading a full-blown attack with all weapons firing.

You and Sungchan were swift to launch your own counterattack.

Merriment filled the summer air as much as saltwater embedded into your skin and eyes and mouth. You almost made the mistake of thinking your racing heart was just from the determination to beat your brothers, and not from the guy on your side of the war. The heat was getting to you and the sun was getting to him.

It was about an hour later that you found yourself lazing upon the slick and smooth plane of a surfboard. The ocean rocked you gently from beneath the board; it had been surprisingly calm all of today.

At some point, you and the boys established a truce in the Great Water War, mainly because your brothers were hungry and there was a big, juicy watermelon just begging to be cut open and devoured in the house.

Suffice to say, you let your brothers figure it out.

Your consciousness faded into the foreground of your mind as a distant sound of splashing neared. You peaked one eye open, lifting the rim of the hat up to see who dared to encroach upon your isle.

You could recognize Sungchan's mop of hair from a mile away, at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing, but why did it have to be either?

He cropped up right beside you, pushing back his hair to keep the water out of his eyes. “Hi.”

A smile curled onto your lips, teasing. “Hi. Good swim?”

“Good nap?”

“As good as one can be on the open ocean,” you said, shifting the hat up so you could see him better, but keeping your face shaded. “I don't know how dolphins sleep with half their brain on.”

Sungchan's brows rocketed toward his hairline. “They sleep with half their brain on? Crazy.”

“I know. I can't even stay awake with half my brain on.”

You and he shared a laugh, and he set a palm on the board next to your body. “Aw, no,” he assured. “If you've got less than half a brain on at all times, then I've got one brain cell.”

“Joke's on you, half my brain is half a brain cell.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. Cute. “Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but that's not how brain cells work.”

You nearly fell off the board. “Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, do tell.”

“I'm not about to talk about neurons on my vacation.”

You challenged him with a look. “Overruled, counselor. Answer the question.”

His mouth fell open in a stunned daze, and his reaction made you break face for a moment to laugh. He blinked. “I have to be really honest with you…” Sungchan carded a hand through his hair, then pressed his knuckles to his mouth. “That was really hot.”

Was it suddenly five degrees warmer out here?

If blood rushing in your ears was akin to the sound of waves crashing, there must have been one hell of a tsunami in your veins right now.

You sputtered a laugh. “You need to get out of the sun—”

“I'm sorry I said that aloud,” he grimaced sheepishly.

“Nurse? Nurse!—” You feigned raising your head up to look around for an imaginary nurse in the middle of the ocean. “Oh, right. You are the nurse.”

He groaned, tilting his head back and playfully punching your shoulder. “You're so—”

“Hot?”

You howled at the sight of his cheekbones blooming the color of ripe watermelon. “I'm kidding; I'm teasing!”

He sighed, smiling despite the pain etched onto his gorgeous features. “Never living that down, am I?”

You shifted your position to laying on your stomach now, your arms folded beneath your chin. Sungchan carefully turned the surfboard so the tip faced him, and you were trapped in his gaze, head-on. “It was cute,” you consoled.

“So you think I'm cute?” He cocked a brow.

“And you think I'm hot.”

He flicked water at you. “Aaand, there it is!”

You laughed again, delighted at the red lingering on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

A beat passed for a second. Something settled between the two of you, a thing you couldn't yet put a name on, but it had been there since last night. Or maybe it had been there longer, festering in the negative space between you until said space could become something of a memory.

You weren't sure why he was here—why he'd swum out here to meet you when his best friend was back at the beach house, gorging on watermelon and getting his ass handed to him in Mario Kart by his siblings; why he all of a sudden occupied a part of your mind like the tide creeping up the embankment at four in the afternoon. At first, he was far enough for you to settle into a false sense of security; until all of a sudden, there he was, the foamy waves lapping at your feet and his smile the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes.

His tongue swiped over his lips and he cleared his throat. “So, uh, watermelon?” That was his original reason for coming out here. (He did volunteer, after all.)

You perked up. “Right, sure. Watermelon.”

“Great.” He broke into a smile, but the corners of it were softer, fonder. You could get used to the look of it.

There was this saying—the elephant in the room—but here in the cabin living room, it was definitely more of a blue whale. Just completely out of the water, weighing about thirteen tons, the size of twelve school buses… yeah, that sounded about right.

“GO FISH!” Anton flung his finger across the circle at Jeno with the glee of a kid on Christmas morning. “Suck it!”

Your mom sent an express glare his way. “Anton.”

Your youngest shrunk down sheepishly. “Sorry, eomma.”

The seven of you were settled in the living space this fine evening with a deck of cards. Your parents were on the couches watching the movie on screen and the game before them, while you, your brothers, and Sungchan huddled around the coffee table playing said game. Sunsoaked and weary, it only took one hearty and filling dinner to perk the lot of you right back up like a field of sunflowers.

“This is a stupid game,” Jeno sulked as he examined his hand of cards.

“You only say that because you're losing,” you pointed out. “Anyways, Jeno, can I have that three?”

Jeno cut you a glare as the rest of the table rolled into fits of laughter. Your smile was cheeky, reaching out to snatch the three Jeno revealed he had during his turn.

“That's cold,” Sohee snorted.

Your eyes darted over to Sungchan opposite you. His eyes were glimmering. “Yeah, I didn't know you had so much ruthlessness in you, Yn.”

“Why do you think she's going into law?” Jeno grunted. Though one card less, it meant that he had one less pair in his finished pile. At this rate, you might win and end up with the most pairs.

“Guys, it's literally just how you play the game.” You nodded over at Sohee. “Sohee, do you have a jack?”

Your younger brother handed it over without ceremony. “Unfortunately.”

“Anton, do you have an ace?”

He shook his head. “Go fish, noona.”

“See?” You said to the rest of the table, but your eyes went to Sungchan's. “The nature of the game.”

They let you off the hook because you didn't plunder everyone of their cards this round. It continued on with Sohee, then Anton, before landing on Sungchan.

He made a show of considering his cards, a furrow between his brows. He glanced up at you over the rim of his hand and gestured with a curl of his fingers. “I'd like that ace, Yn.”

“Oooh,” Anton giggled.

Jeno grinned as you extended the ace across the table to Sungchan. “Karma.”

“Thank you—” his fingers grazed against yours as he plucked the card from your grasp, “—very much.”

You pressed your lips into a small smile, nose wrinkling up at him. You had a few cards left to rid yourself of.

Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up from the couch to bring his empty bowl to the sink. “By the way, are you kids still going into town tomorrow?”

The five of you exchanged brief eye contact with one another. “Yep.”

The idea had come up during dinner after your parents came back. They'd mentioned a variety of activities and little shops to visit that might be fun for you to see, including a hand churned ice cream shop and a port side arcade building. It would just be the five of you going, while your parents would walk down to the beach trails about a mile from the cabin to go hiking.

In the morning, you and everyone else in the house took your time getting up and ready for the day. Breakfast was taken together at the table before you split off into your separate parties.

Jeno took the wheel with Sungchan riding shotgun, and you sat in the middle row with Sohee, while Anton occupied the back. You rolled down your window to rest your chin on the fold of your elbow, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you watched the scenery pass by.

Right in front of you, Sungchan also had his window rolled down with his arm propped on the lowered sill. He chatted animatedly with Jeno about whatever game he and all three of your brothers were playing this morning, but you could feel his gaze go to his side view mirror more than once.

The ride was an easy, breezy one.

The main town center bustled with locals and visitors alike in the late morning. Jeno found free parking about a block away, and the five of you walked over as one big group.

“Ice cream first!” Anton declared with one arm raised toward the sky.

“I concur,” you chimed in. You lifted your sunglasses up slightly so you could read the town directory easier. “Seems like we're close by.”

Anton nodded in approval. “Onwards, then.”

You and your youngest brother led the way. The idea of ice cream made your mouth water, especially since you could already feel a bead of sweat dribble down your spine. Why was it so goddamn hot?

The shop was a cute, little building with a pink and white striped awning and a large window in the front that gave visitors a front row view into the ice cream churning experience. You snorted as Anton pressed his nose up against the glass, a wide grin splitting his face.

“You're scaring the workers, dude,” you jested, tugging your brother along.

Anton scrunched his nose up at you. “You scare me every morning.”

“Just because you're a wimp when I put toner pads on—hey! Do you want ice cream or not?” You cackled as he attempted to flick you square in the forehead.

Jeno groaned. “Guys, can we please act normal for once?” He asked as he swung the door open for everyone.

Sungchan beat you to the punchline, slapping his friend on the back while he ducked inside. “That's rich coming from you, man.”

“Hey!”

The squabble was swiftly swept out of your mind when you stepped foot into the shop. You were nearly knocked over from the potency of the sugary waffle cone scent that occupied the room. At the sight of tubs upon tubs of frozen treats kept within the display case, your entire face lit up, eyes going glassy with wonder. “Oh no, too many to choose from,” you gasped, cupping the lower half of your face.

Sungchan chuckled beside you as he crossed his arms and assessed the dozen options before you. “I didn't know you were such an ice cream fanatic, party girl,” he mused. He glanced over at you with a fond sort of gleam in his eye.

“Don't even get her started,” Sohee groaned. “She and Anton have a sweet tooth to rival Willy Wonka.”

Anton flagged down one of the workers, having already found his targets to try. He was in here for less than two minutes and was already rattling off the entire menu to the poor girl behind the counter.

“Tiramisu sounds really good,” you muttered. Your eyes moved slowly from tub to tub. Another gasp flew from your lips, and you clasped a hand on Sungchan's shoulder. “Wait—but strawberry shortcake—hhhhh.” You wrinkled your brows together, lips pressed into a taut line.

This was not good.

“You could always get a double scoop,” Sungchan suggested.

You bobbed your head. “That's true, but I'm just worried I won't be able to finish, y'know.”

“Well, maybe I'll get one of the flavors you want and we can split.” His shrug was all too casual.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, biting his lip through a smile.

The organ in your chest gave a hop, skip, and a leap. You weren't sure if it was at the thought of it all working out alright or if it was because of Sungchan's generous gesture. You were telling yourself it was the former, but you could be persuaded it was the latter if given a light shove in that direction.

When everyone's scoops were paid for, you fell into a loose formation to stroll around town while you finished your treats.

You and Sungchan were glued to each other's sides out of necessity since you were sharing flavors. Jeno walked on his other side, however, lapping at his cotton candy blue scoop seated upon a throne of waffle cone. The two youngest walked in front, leading you all to wherever they wished to go.

The town itself was rather quaint when you finally soaked it in. It seemed like the kind of place everyone knew everyone, and if you were new or only visiting, the locals were just as friendly and welcoming. The town center was stocked with anything a resident might need—a small grocer down the street, clothing stores and restaurants lining the boulevard, a newspaper stand at the corner, a laundromat, a hardware store, and more places you were certain you wouldn't be able to see in just one walk.

As you scooped a bite out of some of the last bits of tiramisu in Sungchan's cup, Jeno was summoned up to his brothers who were debating over which way they should turn next. You and Sungchan lingered behind to finish off the ice cream in your respective cups.

Just as you slurped up the melted shortcake ice cream at the bottom of yours, your eyes caught onto a storefront behind Sungchan. It was decked out in cliché boho-chic, with braided nets, shells, and sand dollars in the window and over the door frame. The souvenir shop seemed to embody the quintessential tourist trap, and you didn't mind falling into it.

“—guys, we're gonna go to the arcade now!” Jeno said, beckoning you and Sungchan over. They must have decided on a route then.

You made your decision. “You guys can go ahead! I'm gonna pop into this place for a second. I promised I'd get my friend Minjeong something.” Minjeong was one of the few close friends you made at university, and though you didn't promise to her face you'd get her something, you were determined to get her a little trinket as a token of your affection.

“You're gonna go alone?”

You blinked. “Yeah, I'll just meet you guys at the arcade.”

Sohee piped up, “But mom said buddy system.” Okay, you should probably honor that, but it wasn't as if the four of you always followed that rule.

“I'll go with you.”

All eyes went to Sungchan who tossed his empty cup and spoon into the nearby trash can. He gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. “I wanted to get my mom something anyway.”

You tilted your head to the side curiously as Jeno narrowed his eyes at Sungchan, like they were communicating telepathically. Odd.

In fact, you didn't really know what to think about being alone with Sungchan. There was a difference between coincidentally ending up on the porch together or conversing in the ocean away from everyone else, to purposefully breaking off from the group to spend time with each other.

Then again, he said he was getting something for his mom. That gave a different implication to him volunteering to accompany you. The goal was capitalism, not something forbidden.

Maybe you were thinking about this too much.

“Okay, fine,” Jeno relented. “We'll meet you at the arcade, but don't take too long or we'll leave without you.”

“Aye-aye,” you teased, raising a hand to wave goodbye to your brothers. “C'mon, Sungchan.”

You dumped your empty ice cream cup and spoon into the trash before slipping inside the souvenir shop with Sungchan following right after you. You lifted your sunglasses up on top of your head, skin prickling with gooseflesh from the draft of air conditioning wafting overhead. A soft-toned acoustic played in the background, accompanied by the cheery greeting of a staff member from behind the register.

You and Sungchan lifted your hands in warm reply, then disappeared into the aisles to explore.

Your fingers grazed along the racks of clothes branded with the beach town's name and minimalist artwork; your eyes roamed over the ships displayed in bottles on the walls, the not-for-sale surfboard hung for decor. Like many souvenir shops, there were several turning displays that boasted rows upon rows of themed keychains with specific names engraved into them.

“I will never find my name amongst these,” Sungchan mused quietly from beside you as the two of you rifled through the surfboards and seashells and sharks. “And yet, I look for the S names all the time.”

“Valid,” you nodded. “Sometimes I can't find my name either, but it's the hope that gets you.”

“And fails you,” he pointed out.

“Touché.”

Near the keychain displays stood a tower of hats and head accessories galore. There were crocheted bonnets, straw hats, ball caps, and even headbands. Your expression glittered as you plucked up a headband with twin sunflowers on the top like a pair of antennas.

After hanging your shades on your shirt color, you donned the headpiece, twirling around to show Sungchan. “Thoughts?” You asked, failing to sweep your grin away.

Sungchan beamed back at you. “Oh, you're too cute.”

You ignored the heat creeping up the back of your neck to reach for another headband—this time, one topped with red crab claws. Sungchan graciously bowed his head for you to crown him with the piece.

“Fabulous,” you declared with your hands on your hips.

He peered into the small mirror to the side of the hat rack. “You think?”

“Of course.” So much so, that you pulled out your phone to snap a picture. You tilted your head toward his to fit both of your faces and headbands in the frame.

Sungchan peered over your shoulder to take a glimpse at the photos. His tongue was jammed into his cheek, and you could feel his breath along the shell of your ear. “Send me those?”

“I'd need your number first.”

He grinned boyishly, roughing a hand through his hair before taking your phone from you. “You don't even have to ask.”

As he saved his contact information into your phone, you attempted to calm the giddy butterflies in your stomach by peering back into the mirror at the headband on your head. You squished the plush sunflower heads with your fingers, humming thoughtfully. “I low-key wanna buy this.”

He glanced up from your phone before handing it back to you. “If you buy that one, I'll buy this one,” he replied, pointing up at the crab claws on his head.

“You're such an enabler,” you jested. A beat passed. “Okay, but only if you get it with me.”

“That is what I said,” he chuckled, eyebrows arched.

The remainder of the time you and Sungchan spent in the shop was mainly to figure out what you would purchase for Minjeong and what Sungchan would buy for his mom. (Mainly, implying that there was still room for shenanigans.) It took a little more than half an hour, but you both emerged from the souvenir shop with a gift bag each, containing your headbands and the baubles bought.

The arcade was only about a ten minute's walk from your location, so you and Sungchan took your sweet time getting there. As the two of you walked—the backs of your hands grazing against one another, shoulders bumping—you nearly forgot that Sungchan was your brother's good friend. Jeno had never made it a point that you and his friends should never mix, and you knew he could care less about your love life, but this was different. (Was it?) It felt like something that shouldn't happen, and yet, why were you starting to want it so badly?

The outside of the arcade was a cream colored building, much like the others in town, but with large posters on the outside beckoning guests to come in and try their hand. Your brothers texted you to let you know they were in a game of laser tag right now, so that gave you and Sungchan a little more time to yourselves within the arcade.

“I have an idea!” Sungchan grabbed your free hand and hauled you off toward something in the distance.

The feeling of your fingers slotting with his had more than just your steps skipping. “Hey, man—you and your long legs need to chill!” You hollered at him through a laugh.

He sent you a look over his shoulder before stopping at one corner of the arcade. With jazz hands, he presented his marvelous idea. “Ta-da!”

Before you was an all-time classic: Dance Dance Revolution.

Your eyes widened just as your smile did. “It's like you read my mind,” you marveled.

The machine was just like the movies with a multicolored screen of bright blues and purples, a platform with two sets of arrows in the floor, and two arched rails at the back for each player to hold onto as they danced the night away.

Sungchan marched up onto the platform and fished a wadded up paper bill out from his wallet. “Have you played before?”

When the machine devoured his money, the screen leapt to life and blasted its opening music to announce that somebody was willing to step up to the challenge.

You set your gift bag down at the foot of the platform and climbed up to join him. “I've only seen it done before, but I've always wanted to try it.”

You and he locked eyes, and you were sure the twinkle in his was a reflection of just how excited you were.

“Well, today is your lucky day, party girl,” he chirped. “Let's see what you've got.”

It didn't take long for you to figure out that “what you've got” was a lot less than whatever Sungchan had.

You grappled onto the railing behind you tightly as you stomped your feet against the coordinating arrows that flashed on-screen. How long had it been since that fateful first round? Ten minutes? Two days? It was all mashing together.

“This is unfair; you have longer limbs,” you groaned after missing a few arrows in a row. Why were you so out of breath?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Sungchan's head. It was almost comical how serious you were both taking this game. “I have practice,” he corrected cheekily.

“Same difference!”

“A master never blames his tools.”

You huffed. “Bullshit.”

At this point, your losses were becoming ridiculous. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

For a sequence you knew you were going to miss, you leaned over and pinched his side. Sungchan jolted—it did the trick, and he missed the steps. His head whipped over to you, an impish gleam in his irises.

“Oh ho ho… you wanna play that game?”

You placed your hand on your hip as the round ended. “If I'm gonna lose, might as well go out with a bang.”

His tongue swiped over his lip. “You're on.”

The next round commenced, and adrenaline spiked through you like a spear, more powerful than before. You knew to expect Sungchan's revenge, but you struck first.

A poke at his side resulted in a tickle at your waist. You returned his parry with a blind poke at his stomach.

Anticipating his response, you spotted his arm incoming out of your periphery and moved to step out of his reach. Instead of solid platform, however, your breath hitched at the feeling of half your sandal slipping off the edge.

Sungchan's eyes went wide and his arm instead curled around your waist and hauled you to him. “Shit,” he muttered, “are you okay? Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

Your palms had landed on his chest, your heart rate slowing but not fast enough. All of the excitement in your veins was likely more so from the game itself, and not from almost falling off the platform… and perhaps, another part of it was you realizing just how close you and Sungchan were now.

You nodded. “Yeah, I'm completely fine; don't even worry about it. And it wasn't your fault—I miscalculated my step and I started it anyway.”

He pressed his lips together. “Still.”

“Nice catch, by the way,” you said quietly.

You saw his eyes leave your gaze, and this time, you followed in his movements. He ducked his head, almost shyly. “I guess so,” he chuckled. “I'm glad I caught you.”

If anything, your heartbeat was gaining speed again. The hand pressed into your waist was a little more addicting than you would have liked, and his mouth was closer than you thought it had been.

In the neon glow of the Dance Dance Revolution screen, you and Sungchan leaned toward one another with one aim, and one aim only.

“Hey guys!”

You leapt off the dance platform at the same time that Sungchan zipped to his side, gripping the railing with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.

You pressed a hand against your palpitating heart and turned to find all three of your brothers bounding over to where you and Sungchan were.

“Oh my god,” Anton gasped, “is that DDR?”

It seemed that Anton and Sohee were more focused on the game than yours and Sungchan's compromising position. But Jeno… you noted the suspicious narrowing of his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest…

You swore you and Sungchan swallowed at the same time.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jeno drawled.

“Nope!”

You and Sungchan looked at each other at your simultaneous answer. Great. That definitely wasn't even more conspicuous or anything.

Jeno pressed his lips together. “Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Well, Mom and Dad texted and asked for us to meet them at the house, so we've gotta go.” He lifted the screen of his phone up for you to see. Dear god, you hadn't even realized they'd texted the group chat.

You cleared your throat. “Right.”

You picked up your gift bag, and your younger brothers immediately flanked you on either side to gush about the game of laser tag they had just partaken in. Though you nodded and engaged in their conversation, your mind was elsewhere.

Plus, it was hard not to be hyper aware of the fact that Sungchan was now alone to face Jeno somewhere behind you. You were not looking forward to the car ride back.

There were always some, unspoken fine lines that should not be crossed—at least, purposefully. In retrospect, you knew Jeno didn't care about who you chose to spend your time with, as long as they treated you right. In the same vein, you didn't care much about what he thought when it came to your own decisions, and yet, you found yourself caring a little more because this was one of his friends. Not yours.

But feelings were feelings… and you were slowly coming to terms with yours.

It was like déjà vu when you crept down the stairs in the dead of night for the second time this vacation. You simply could not bear staring at that wooden ceiling any longer with your mind reeling from this afternoon's events.

The living room was yet again a cacophony of light snoring, and you crossed the room toward the back door once more.

You paused again, the sight of Sungchan's back a familiar one. Instead of sitting on the porch steps, though, he leaned against the railing, gazing out at the dark waves. It was yet another calm night out on the embankment, but the moon tonight was hidden away behind a few wisps of cirrus clouds.

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you greeted softly, gently closing the door behind you so you could join him at the railing. It was funny how you both were on the same wavelength. Fate had a funny way of encouraging you.

You and he hadn't properly spoken since the arcade, and Jeno hadn't said a word about it to you either. Dinner had gone on normally enough, so you were unsure of where this all stood.

“I wanted,” Sungchan began, “to talk to you about something.”

You glanced over at him and found his eyes already on you. “Sure, of course.”

He straightened, gesturing to the sandy beach beyond. “Walk with me?”

You nodded and followed him down the porch steps. Your feet met the cool grains of sand, and a sense of calm seeped into your bones from the bottom up.

A hand outstretched in your vision, uncertain. You clasped your hand in his palm, and the pair of you began to walk. You couldn't recall whether you began to adore the feeling of your hand wrapped up in his earlier or just now.

“So…” you trailed off.

“So,” he picked up. “About earlier today. I wanted to, uhm, make sure we were on the same page about something.”

He stopped you both when you were a good distance from the house, where the waves slipped along the sand louder than the snores.

“I had a really fun time with you today,” he said.

You nodded your head in earnest. “I had a great time with you, too.”

He smiled then, hand letting go of yours to drag over his face. “I'm—I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, and you were sure he was trying to hide his growing giddiness.

You reached over and gently pried his hands away from his face. “Did Jeno talk to you about today? Did he say anything?” Before he could reply, you added, “Because I know he means well, but who I choose to spend my time with is my decision. If he can't handle us together, then he'll have to learn to suck it up.”

“He did say something to me about it,” Sungchan admitted, “but it was just to make sure I wasn't playing around.” With his hands locked in yours, he gave your palms a reassuring squeeze. “And Yn, I'd like to take you out sometime—properly. No playing around.”

No more toeing the line in the sand.

Your heart rattled violently in your chest. “I'd really like that.”

His expression melted into something tender, like the dark swirls of molten chocolate in the scoop of tiramisu ice cream. His thumb grazed over the back of your hand. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible over the soft laps of the waves, “good.”

He considered you for a moment longer, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “I also—I did intend on kissing you earlier today, and I probably should have prefaced it, but—mmmh!”

You looped your arms around his neck and pulled his mouth over to yours. He sank into your hold with a content hum, his hands slipping around your waist to tug you closer to him. You'd never really thought about what kissing Jung Sungchan would be like, but you knew that your imagination couldn't have been better than this.

When you broke apart with your foreheads pressed against each other and sharing breathing air, you let out a small laugh. The sound coaxed a warm chuckle out of your counterpart.

“Sorry,” you breathed against his lips, “I probably should have asked first.”

He smiled against you. “You can apologize by kissing me again.”

He most certainly didn't have to tell you twice.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! (idek if that was good, im off my Game and off my Rocker dkfnrj)

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rosenclaws · 4 months ago

Note

Hi again lol 👋

Here's the leopold idea I had:

The reader is a shy baker who lives next door to Stuart. Her and Stuart are friends, and sometimes she'll bring meals/baked goods over to make sure he's eating (she's soft like that). She also has a cat, Appa, who likes to visit Stuart. When Stuart takes Leo home, they get introduced to each other due to her cat coming over and finding Leo instead.

Leo and the reader build a friendship, and she introduces him to all the different cuisines/baked goods the 21st century has to offer. Over time, they start to develop feelings for each other but won't say anything to the other because they don't think the other likes them in that way. Stuart, our awkward wing man, informs Leo that the reader definitely likes them due to how much time they spent with them and may have overheard a conversation that the reader has with a friend about him.

They admit their feelings in a fluffy way and throw in a kiss and maybe like a timeskip into the future where they're married, and they're telling their kids how they met and all that fluffy goodness.

I'll leave the ending up to you. I was running out of creative juice on how to end it, lol.

Made With Love || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, fluff, a little messing with the Kate & Leopold canon, me making shit up about Leopolds past, leopold is a girl dad

a/n: I love this request and it actually ended up being longer than I thought haha. I have also crafted this total backstory to Leopold's childhood and parents in my head so now that's gonna be a running theme in my leo fics i think. Anyways I hope you like it!! Also i made some little divider in canva in like 3 seconds im sorry its not very original sdfalkj

wc: 2.9k

The sun shines through your balcony windows as another day begins, well for you the day had began at 4am. Preparing dough for the large order of baked goods you had to deliver today. It's a very small business, one that you run from your apartment but you love it.

"Good morning Appa, finally decided to wake up huh?" You wipe your hands on your apron and scratch his head softly. He stretches happily before heading towards the window. Appa is a very spoiled cat so you have no worries of him running off. He often travels to your neighbors, seeing if they're free to give him even more attention.

"Okay pretty simple order today." You check your list over before giving yourself a little time to rest.

A loud yowl makes you jump as you hurry towards the window. That's definitely Appa and you've never heard him make a sound like that. Peeking out the window you see him standing outside of Stuarts window, back arched and ears flat as he hisses.

"Appa what has gotten into you!" You climb over and pick him up.

"Sorry Stuart I have no..." When you look into the window it's not Stuart you see. A strange man is on the couch looking disheveled and confused and wearing really strange clothing.

"You're not Stuart." You hold your cat closer, debating if you should run and call the cops or not.

"I'm afraid not, he'll be back in just a moment." You slowly inch back towards your apartment.

"Um, okay. Who are you? Exactly?"

"Leopold. Do you know the man that lives here?" He gets up and walks towards you making you take a step back. Appa jumps out of your arms and scampers back to your apartment. The door opens and you spot Stuart and Bart.

"Stuart! What the hell did you do!?" You shout. Leopold stops in his tracks when he notices the nervousness in your voice.

"Dammit!" Stuart hurries over to the window.

"Now is not a good time, I'll explain later." He abruptly slams the window in your face.

You slam your fist against the window but the blinds go down, locking you out. You knew Stuart has had some, interesting ideas before. He's shown you but you never believed they could actually do anything. Just a work of science fiction.

Climbing back into your apartment you check on your baked goods. Taking a few sheets of cookies out of the oven you decide to grab a few and put them on a plate. Stuart could never resist your homemade chocolate chip cookies.

"Stuart! Let me in! I have cookies." You hear shuffling behind the door before it swings open.

"Not fair." He opens the door to let you in and you smile happily.

"So, who is he?" Stuart explains as much as he can. That he traveled back in time to 1876 and accidently brought back his great great great grandfather Leopold and now he has to get him back or else he'll disappear.

"You're kidding right? This is some elaborate prank?" Stuart shakes his head as he takes a bit of a cookie.

"I swear on my life." Your eyes drift to Leopold who was currently looking through some magazine.

A look of utter bewilderment on his face. He throws the magazine down and lets his head fall into his hands. To him this must be a nightmare. Not that you fully believed Stuart but you were willing to entertain the idea. You take the plate of cookies and place them in front of him.

"You want one?" He lifts his head to see you standing there. You actually start to feel bad. He looked stressed, upset, and genuinely lost.

"What is this?" He reaches out and turns it around in his hands.

"Have you never seen a chocolate chip cookie?" You ask with a laugh, though it quickly dies down as you realize he hasn't.

"Try it, it's good." He hesitates but takes a bite.

"This is marvelous. Did you make these?" He stands up abruptly, startling you just a bit.

"Yeah, have you really never had this before?' You ask in disbelief. Leopold finishes the cookie quickly, savoring every bite as the flavor takes over his taste buds.

"Never, I've had shortbread before but never something this rich and delicious." He compliments. You're slightly taken back, yes people like your baked goods but they aren't usually this forward about it. Or this charming

"Oh it's nothing, I make these all the time."

"Nonsense, the work of a baker is like art. Crafting such succulent breads and goods with your own hands is no easy task." The way he speaks is enchanting, maybe it's the accent but you've never met a man so well spoken before. Maybe he really was from the past.

"I can show you how I make them, if you want." You offer.

"It would be my honor."

“Hey wait a second,” Stuart interrupts.

“You said the next chance to get him home is Monday right? Well thats a week away so we have time. Bye Stuart!” You grab Leopold’s wrist and take him back to your apartment. He’s met with the smell of fresh bread as he steps foot into your place. It’s comforting, reminds him of his childhood.

“I have a couple orders that are getting picked up today, so can you help me roll out some dough?” You don’t hesitate to put him to work as you prepare the pie filling for your order. Leopold takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves. You hand him five separate balls of dough for the five pies.

“You mentioned orders, do you run a bakery?” He questions as he watches you weigh ingredients.

“Not quite, I wouldn’t really call this a bakery. More of a small business.”

“A businesswoman?” You raise an eyebrow and stop mixing.

“What? Hard to believe?” You tease.

“Not at all. I find it very fitting.” You hum in response, finishing up the filling for the order. You turn on some music to fill the air and time goes by quickly. Leopold is a great help, the pies getting into the oven ahead of schedule.

"Now we wait." You say with a sigh as you stretch your arms above your head.

Appa jumps onto the counter and rubs his head against your side. He stares at Leopold for a moment before cautiously sniffing his hand. Leopold reaches and pets Appa's head, scratching his chin and smiling when Appa starts to purr happily.

"So, tell me Leopold, how did you get here from the past?" He sighs and leans against the counter.

"I haven't the faintest idea. One moment I'm about to announce my engagement and the next I'm falling off a bridge and waking up here." He looks around, staring out the window to look at what is supposedly New York.

"Engagement?" You say shocked, I mean he's a good looking guy so it's not too shocking but that's quite the information to dump. His face shifts to a look of annoyance.

"My uncle had decided that it was time to get married. We were running out of money and marrying a wealthy American was..."

"A means to an end?" You finish for him.

He nods, he smiles but there's sadness in his eyes. You couldn't imagine what it must be like for him. Having to marry for money instead of real love. Without think you start to play with your necklace.

"That's a beautiful necklace. May I?" He reaches out but waits for your okay. You nod silently and he gently holds the stone in his hands.

"It was my grandmothers, real diamond so she claimed." You joke, real diamond or not it belonged to her and you loved it.

"My mother had a ring like this. A beautiful ruby at the center." He gently places it back down against your skin. You suddenly become incredibly aware of how close he is. Your timer rings out through the apartment making you take a step back. You clear your throat and move to check on your pies.

"Tell me more, about your life before you came here." You ask, wanting to know everything about this man. He's like a magnet that you can't help but move towards.

"It's a long story." He says gently. You glance at the clock and shrug your shoulders.

"We've got time."

The week passes by too fast. Way too fast. Leopold was over almost every day. Helping you with your orders and telling you wonderful stories.

He was a natural in the kitchen with you. For that he gave credit to his mother. His mother wasn't born royal, working in an orchard for her family. She was a wonderful cook according to Leopold. His father was the one with royal blood, like Leopold he was meant to marry for power, for status but he didn't. He fell in love with Leopold's mother, love at first sight. Soulmates that were destined to be together. Their love story is what made love so hard for Leopold. Love is a leap, that's what he said. Yet there has been no one worth jumping for.

You understood, there hasn't been anyone like that for you either. Well, not until Leopold showed up. You used to scoff at the idea of love. It feels impossible to find love these days, no matter what you tried there never was this spark. So you stopped caring for now, focusing on your business instead.

Then Leopold fell into your life and ruined it all. You want to tell him, to kiss him, to save him from a loveless marriage but the deadline looms over you like a cloud and the fact that he's told you he's never been in love suppress any real chance of you saying something. So you decide to enjoy your time with him now, hoping its enough to last you a life time.

Sunday night comes too quickly. He has to leave tomorrow. Leopold stares out at the city he's gotten to know. The lights are on in your apartment but he can't bring himself to go over. He has to say goodbye but he doesn't know how. He hears the window open behind him.

"She's home. I can hear her through the walls." Stuart nudges Leopold's shoulder. He glances over but stays put.

"I...If go now, I don't think I would leave. I love her." He looks down at his hands.

"She loves you too. I know it. I've never seen her light up around someone like she does with you." Stuart rests a hand on his shoulder in an attempt at comfort him.

"I'm sorry, I wish things were different." The light in your apartment goes out and he feels his heart clench.

It's too late. He sighs and heads back inside, laying on Stuarts couch as he stares at the celling. At least he's gotten the chance to know what love is.

Even if it's a fleeting moment, he knows.

You knock on the door, a plate of fresh cookies in your hand. You want Leopold to have them one last time. You wait and wait but no one comes.

A pit forms in your stomach as you leave the cookies at the doorstep. You hurry through your apartment to the window. Your heart stops as you see a letter with your name on it sitting on your window sill.

Hello my love,

I apologize for not seeing you in person before I have to leave. The truth is I am a coward. I knew that if I had said goodbye, if I had seen your face that I would not have had the strength to leave. Though I return to my time, I must tell you that my heart is yours. It will always be yours. I love you.

Yours truly,

Leopold.

You wipe the tears that are forming in your eyes with the back of your hand. He can't be gone. He can't just leave like that. You love him. You love him so much. You fold the letter and tuck it in your back pocket.

"Appa!" You grab your cat and run out the door.

This is stupid, this is so stupid. You race down the street towards the Brooklyn bridge as fast as your legs could carry you. Appa clings to your shoulder as you weave through the people.

"Stuart!" You shout as you spot him across the street. He looks at you confused as you run through traffic, dodging cars to get to him.

"Is he gone? Is it too late?" You ask desperately.

"I...what?" Stuart asks in disbelief.

"Is it too late to go back?" Are you really going to do this? Go back in time to be with him? This is crazy, absolutely crazy. But Leopold told you that love was a leap and for once you want to jump.

"Are you sure about this?" Stuart asks as you both race towards the bridge.

"Yes, for once in my life I am sure." You stop on the edge of the bridge.

"I just have to jump right?" You hold Appa tightly as you peer over the side.

"Don't look down, it's going to be okay." You take one last look back.

"Thank you Stuart, Thank you." You give him a hug before take a deep breath and jumping off the side.

You feel the wind rushing past your face, you're falling and falling. Until you're not. Everything seems to stop. As you open your eyes you see cobblestone streets and people dressed in old clothing.

"We made it!" You look around for any sign of where to find Leopold.

Racing down the streets towards his home, he told you about it once. Pointed it out, he was shocked it was still there. You sneak your way past some people dressed in fancy clothes. Head's turning your direction as you stick out amongst the crowd. Your breath stops as you see him steps above the crowd.

"Sorry, excuse me." You push past a crowd of people to get his attention.

"Leopold!" His eyes dart around the room, searching for your voice. Perhaps it's a trick of the mind.

"Leo!" You push to the front, not caring that everyone is staring at you.

You're here, you found him. A look of pure shock on his face as he steps down. For a moment he doesn't think you're real. How could you be? You set Appa down and walk towards him.

"How could you leave me without saying goodbye?" You take the letter and shove it against his chest. He stands there, still stunned by your presence.

"I love you Leopold, I love you." He leans in and kisses you passionately.

One hand cupping your head and the other resting at your waist as he pulls you as close as he can get you. Your arms wrap around his neck, his nose brushes against your cheek.

"I love you." He says breathlessly. Without hesitating he gets down on one knee, taking his mothers ring from his pocket.

"Will you marry me?" You don't wait a second before saying yes. He slips the ring on and pulls you into another kiss. Nothing else mattered as you held Leopold in your arms.

You were home.

"Tell it again!" Your oldest daughter pleads. She puts on her best puppy dog eyes. You laugh and brush the hair out of her face.

"Yes please!" The younger one joins in the begging.

"You've already heard it a million times." You say but they don't care.

"But it's such a good story. You're like a princess!"

"Actually, she's a duchess." Leopold says as he walks through the door. Your girls jump from your lap straight into Leopold's arms.

"How are my darling girls today?" They start to babble on about their day and you watch happily. Appa sits on the window sill, lazily sleeping in the sun.

"Alright go wash up for dinner." He gently sets them down and watches as they go running. You stand up and kiss him gently.

"How was the bakery today?" You ask as Leopold wraps you in a warm hug. He smells like bread.

"Busy as usual." When you got married it's safe to say his uncle was not amused.

So the two of you left and much to Leopold's dismay you sold your necklace. He tried to get you to keep it but you were set on it. With the money you opened up a small bakery. You tried not to mess too much with the past but somethings slipped through as your bakery became the biggest hit in New York. Now you live a nice life. Two kids and a loving husband. What more could you ask for?

"The girls say we're soulmates," You hum happily. Leopold kisses you again, and again, and once more for good measure.

"We are my love,"

"Through space and time." You add.

Looking back maybe it was crazy that you left everything behind so quickly. To leave everything you knew to be with him. But you loved him. It felt like there was this string pulling the two of you closer and closer, through all of time. You built a life with him. There's no regrets, no worries. Just Leopold.

He was yours and nothing else mattered.

#hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten

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sweetlittlefawntears · 3 months ago

Text

♡ my, my girl ♡

au : divider by chilumitos ! sorry i haven’t posted in a while i’ve been so tired n not motivated at allllll but im here haha i wanted to do more brothers best friend ellie ahhhhh i hope u all enjoy n sorry this isn’t that good like i said im feelin v unmotivated haha ;; i know i said yes to requests but i literally cannot do them rn please please bear with me

cw : DONT LIKE DONT READ !! virgin!fem reader x brothers best friend ellie williams , ellie is a bit of a perv , ellie dosent know how to convey her feelings so sometimes she’s mean (lol she’s a loser) , oral (reader receiving), NOT PROOFREAD DONT COME FOR ME ITS ONE AM. that’s it i think ?

wc : 1.8k

౨ৎ your brother had a best friend named ellie for as long as you could remember. she was gorgeous, with emerald green eyes that shone beautifully in the sun, and short auburn hair that looked so soft and cute as it fell around her face and ears.

౨ৎ you walked downstairs from your room, tired from studying and being holed up in your room all day. as you walked downstairs, you saw ellie and your brother sitting together in the kitchen, talking. you usually didn’t pay them any mind, but ellie kept staring at you. you hadn’t realized she would be downstairs, and were caught off guard when you realized she was standing in the middle of your kitchen.

౨ৎ as you walked downstairs, you moved to grab a glass from the cabinet behind ellie, but she didn’t budge. “can you move, please?” you say, exasperated. “look who finally came out of her cave!” ellie said, teasing you. you rolled your eyes as ellie finally stepped out of the way so you could get your glass. you walked over to the fridge, and ellie liked the way she could see your legs and thighs. you weren’t wearing much, just some small shorts and a white tank top, since you didn’t think anyone would be over at your house today. you also weren’t wearing a bra, because why would you do that in your own room? well, it was a bad idea, because ellie could see the entire outline of your body under the tight clothes you were wearing.

౨ৎ “damn, you showin’ off or something?” she says as you sip water from your glass. you glance at your brother, who is too obsessed with his phone to notice anything. “huh?” he says, looking up from his phone, oblivious. “cmon, let’s go watch something” he motions to the living room. ellie follows him, not paying any other glance to you.

౨ৎ later that night, you hear ellie and your brother fighting, no doubt over some stupid video game, or who won the fight they had just gotten into. you walk around your room, bored, but not wanting to go talk to your brother, because that meant seeing ellie.

౨ৎ you eventually decide to just take a shower and call it a night. you gather your things, grab a towel, and head to the bathroom when you see ellie standing right outside your bathroom door. you grab onto the towel you’re holding, and try not to act angry. “did you need something?” you say. “going somewhere?” ellie says in return. “i’m about to take a shower…?” you point to the fluffy white towel in your arms. ellie looks away, and grabs the back of her neck, rubbing it. “fuck, ellie, don’t imagine her naked…” she thinks to herself as she looks at you. “i was just gonna ask if you…wanted to watch a movie with us, but i guess- you uh…” she stutters.

౨ৎ “are you feeling okay?” you asks not used to seeing ellie like this. usually she was making some snide remark at you or pushing you around, trying to get you mad or riled up. she loved it when you were angry, it was so cute, like a little tiger. “i’m fine. are you?” ellie says, deflecting. “right. i’m gonna take that shower now.” you say, opening the door to the bathroom.

౨ৎ after your shower, you get out and walk into your bedroom, slipping on a cute pajama set, a small light gray baby tee and little gray shorts. it was your favorite. you were about to flop down on your bed and tuck yourself in to read your favorite book when you heard a slight knocking at your door.

౨ৎ you got up, a little annoyed that someone had interrupted your relaxing alone time, walked over to the door and opened it ready to tell whoever it was to go away when you saw ellie standing there. it was strange; she had never come up to your room like this before…

౨ৎ “hey. can we talk?” ellie said, and without waiting for your permission she stepped into your room. “nice room.” she commented, looking around. “what is it?” you asked timidly, seeing her walk around and pick up small trinkets and photos on your dresser.

౨ৎ “well…” she said, putting down a picture of you and your brother and turning to take a step closer to you. “we havent always gotten along, but..i never realize that youve gotten so..” she trailed off, wondering how to not sound creepy (which she totally was) talking about how much different you looked. how much more beautiful you looked lately…

౨ৎ “gotten so…what?” you say, honestly curious about where she was taking this. “cmon, you know. you…look good.” ellie said, eyeing you up and down slightly. “and you’re saying this, why?” you ask, slightly bratty since you felt it was your right, after all, she was so rude to you all the time, and never missed a chance to tease you. “cmon, puppy, youre cute. you know what i mean.”

౨ৎ and there it was. that stupid nickname she had given you. “puppy” might have sounded sweet, but ellie only teased you when you were younger for being naive, hence the nickname. but that was in the past, the nickname seemed so different now, almost loving.

౨ৎ she stepped closer to you, reaching out to touch your arms. “cmon, i see the way you look at me now too. i like you, ok?” she said, a little sternly, as if she was trying to convince you to even be in the same room as her. “ellie, this is-“ but she cut you off before you could continue by cupping your face and kissing you.

౨ৎ “are you okay?” ellie said, pulling back to see your flustered face. you took a minute to get used to the feeling of her actually wanting to touch you, to be near you, but once you had gotten over that, all you wanted was to feel her lips on yours. you were nervous, you’d only been kissed a few times and you could tell ellie wanted to do a bit more than just that.

౨ৎ you were pressed against the wall next to your bed, whimpering under her. “needy, huh?” she said, pressed her right knee between your legs. “i like patient girls, y’know.” as she grinded against you, giving you the friction you so desperately craved, you couldnt help but moan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushed your lips, silently asking to be let in. of course you spread those pretty lips of yours to let her taste every inch of your mouth, faint sounds coming from both of you as you kissed filling room with a sinful air of lust and heat.

౨ৎ eventually you two make your way over to your own bed, sitting in ellies lap with your back pressed against her chest, ellie comfortingly shushing you and reassuring you that she would take good care of you. “shh, bun, s’okay. ive gotcha.” she said soothingly as she pulled down the little gray shorts you were wearing and tossing them to the side of your bed.

౨ৎ as her hand trailed down, further towards your panties, slipping under the soft cotton, she felt the wetness of your cunt under her slender fingers. “this your first time…?” she asked, rubbing gentle circles around your clit. “well- thats…” you trail off. “none of my business?” she finishes your sentence for you. “s’okay if it is, bun.” she says as she continues to circle your pearl, drawing out whimpers from you.

౨ৎ ellie puts her hand over your mouth. “sorry bun, s’much as i like hearing those pretty sounds, you dont want your brother to know about this, do you?” she was right, like always. you shook your head slightly, almost unable to comprehend anything except the way her soft fingers felt touching you. “so, so wet for me…” she says among other praises.

౨ৎ “you think you’re ready bun?” she says, sliding her fingers towards your sweet entrance. “mhm…” you said, almost shaking with anticipation, holding onto her forearm, her other hand still gently covering your mouth. as she slides two fingers inside you, you grip onto her thigh as she continues to slowly push her fingers in and out of you. “so good, bun. just like that.” she said as you moaned softly each time she pulled out of you.

౨ৎ “you look so cute like this..i wish i couldve seen it earlier.” ellie said, smiling to herself at the proud moment of being able to be the first one to have you like this. “taking my fingers so well, huh?” she said, not even expecting a reply as you were already too fucked out to think for yourself.

౨ৎ “you can cum whenever you want, bun.” she said. usually she wouldve made you beg for it, or been a little mean, but there was something about how sweet and pure you looked taking her fingers, sitting between her legs on your own bed committing such a sinful act that enticed her so much she couldnt wait to feel you lose yourself and cum all over her fingers.

౨ৎ as you whimpered softly under her, she moved the hand over your mouth to softly stroke your thigh. “s’okay, just be quiet…” she said as she comforted you, still pushing those damn fingers in and out of you. it didnt take long after that for you to cum, trying to hold back your moans, and of course she praised you the whole way through.

౨ৎ “aw, you just look so so cute like this…” she said, looking at your face, slightly flushed and sweaty from the way she had made you feel. without missing a beat she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, and, since she was ellie, bringing them to her mouth to lick them clean.

౨ৎ as you layed on her, breathing still heavy, she got up and guided you to the bathroom, cleaning you gently and whispering sweet nothings and apologies for you being overly sensitive. the coldness of the bathroom and the warmth of her body and hands on you, and the way ellie helped you step into a fresh pair of panties felt so loving to you.

౨ৎ as you laid next to her in your bed, she softly stroked your hair, watching you as you fell asleep, kissing your cheek and cuddling you from behind. she hoped you would still feel good about this in the morning.

౨ৎ it was definitely safe to say that your first time being with ellie was exactly the way it was supposed to happen.

HAIII thank you for reading im literally so fucking tired and this is so so so shitty i swear on my life i hate this but i really reallllyyy wanted to post for you all :( im sorry for not getting to requests i will try my best but like i said ive been so so sooo unmotivated, anyways ENOUGH PITY PARTYING hopefully someone will enjoy this AHHHH

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #fluff #the last of us #smut #tlou #tlou2

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aurorawhisperz · 2 years ago

Text

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

#ethan landry scream #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x reader #scream fanfiction #scream fluff #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #scream angst #scream

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hwaslayer · 8 months ago

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favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol

a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!

Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.

Nope, that shit was all real.

And he hates it.

He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.

But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.

The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.

That didn't happen.

So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.

Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:

you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe

yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.

It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.

Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.

It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.

He couldn't help it.

Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,

But, nope.

It doesn't.

Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.

"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."

"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"

"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"

"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"

"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."

"We can share, there's more than enough—"

"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?

He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.

"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine."

"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."

"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:

"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.

In silence. With weird tension.

You hate it.

You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.

You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.

"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.

"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.

This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.

"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.

"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"The living room."

"Let me come with you."

"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?

He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.

None of this was your fault.

He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.

"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.

"Mhm."

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.

"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.

"I guess. Just exhausted lately."

"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.

"Fuck."

"What?"'

"I've been such a dick to her tonight."

"What'd you do?"

"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.

"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.

"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."

"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."

"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.

God dammit, Yunho.

"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.

"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.

"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."

"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.

"You should've just told me, babe."

"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.

"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."

"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."

"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"I know."

"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."

"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Are we okay?" He nods.

"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.

So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.

Your chin.

Your neck.

Back up to your lips.

He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.

It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.

He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.

Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #yunho fluff #jeong yunho fluff #hwaslayer: project make you love me

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writingsonsaturn · 1 month ago

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the tortured poets department

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

🪐: first spencer fic, and its angst, perfecto!

wc - 497

content warning: angst, spencer is mean, break-up, no happy ending lol, not proofread

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“You left your typewriter at my apartment” You said into the phone, “who uses typewriters these days” You finished with a laugh. “I find typewriters quite interesting actually” Spencer said with a factual tone causing you to roll your eyes.

Spencer had been over for the last couple of nights, his migraines were bad so you offered to give him a safe place to rest his body, giving you the responsibility to go to the store, make dinner, clean, basically do everything you knew he shouldn’t be doing.

“I’ll come by and pick it up after work, is that okay?” Spencer’s voice sounded flatter than it usually is, your heart picked up a beat or two. “Yeah, totally okay Spence” doing your best to mask the scared feeling rising up your throat, “are you doing okay?” you asked Spencer, “im fine” he replied, but you weren’t convinced.

Later that day he stopped by just as he said he would, but something was off about him. His eyes were sunken down deeper into their sockets, he looked almost grey, and his face supported a frown, which was something you hated seeing on him. It didn’t suit him.

You went up to try and hug his frame but he quickly denied your attempt, putting a hand out in front of him. “Okay, Spencer, what is going on with you?” you asked with a strain.

“Nothing, we just need to talk.”

“Don’t do this” your voice broke, you knew all too well what the phrase entailed, hoping, praying, pleading that your gut was wrong and your anxieties were fooling you.

“This isn’t working anymore, Y/n” Spencer finally spit out, confirming everything you never wanted to hear.

Your heart broke with every syllable he spoke, “Why? Huh? You at least owe me an explanation” you scoffed, anger overtaking the despair that you felt only moments prior.

“I don’t love you anymore”

Every word felt like a dagger to the heart, repeatedly swinging up then falling right back down.

Your body feels numb, the weight of the situation hurting your shoulders as you carry the tension, “So that’s it?” you wondered, looking at him with eyes that said everything you weren’t able to.

“Yeah” he responded coldly, looking at everything in the room but you, he refused to meet your eyes.

You wanted him gone, anything you felt for Spencer drifted away, it was as if a switch had been turned off, the only thing left of the two of you was the shadow imprinted on your heart that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to get rid of.

“Tell me one thing, before you go” you more so stated, instead of questioning.

“What?”

“Who else is gonna hold you like me” the question hung in the air for what felt like a century.

“I don’t know” he answered, head hanging low.

“Nobody.”

You shoved the typewriter into his hands, forcing him out the door and slamming it shut.

“No-fucking-body”

#reader insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #angst #breakup #the 'taylor swift' series

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 10 months ago

Text

Earned It

requested?: no genre: established relationship, smut, office AU pairings: choi seungcheol x afab!reader, kim mingyu x platonic!reader (not mentioned that much) warning(s): smut, daddy kink, thigh riding, not proof read, slight mention of cheol pushing reader underneath his desk, rough smut, unprotected sex (stay safe), spanking, hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything;) summary: 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭'𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 word count: 2.1k a/n: hi guys, im back, just decided to write a small smut for seungcheol, i got kinda carried away with this one lol, enjoy! remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! -Cilla

you were about to go out with mingyu on a night out, but before you went, you wanted to say goodbye to cheol. he was working, which was barely a surprise for you anymore. he was always working late, he barely ever had time for you anymore. he spent more time yelling at his colleagues on the phone then he ever did with you, barely even have time to speak to you. you walked into his office, your hips swaying with each step you took.

you were wearing a short red dress, barely passing your mid thigh. it hugged your hips and curves perfectly, showing off your flawless body. there was a split spaghetti strap, showing cleavage but not too much, and almost an open back, but again, not too much. your heels had red bottoms, painted all black. you and mingyu were going to go clubbing, so your outfit made sense, or at least to you. in colour, it was a gorgeous wine red, cheol’s favourite colour, small ripples in the fabric. as you walked, it rode slightly upwards, sitting just beneath your ass. the fabric was gorgeous and smooth, giving it a more sophisticated look, but still as slutty as you needed it to be, to be eye catching enough to make cheol jealous.

you knocked on his door before stepping in, almost soundlessly

“hi cheol,” you smiled at the man in front of you innocently. he took in your form, making sure his eyes kissed every inch of your body before they landed on your cleavage point. “i’m gonna head out now, i should be back later, I dunno when,” you shrug shamelessly, turning around to walk out of the office.

“woah, woah, woah. where do you think you’re going dressed like that, princess?” he drawled, staring at your ass as you turned away from him

“you don’t like it?” you spun back around, a frown splayed across your face.

there was barely anyone left in the office now, but people were still working. your plan was working as far as you were concerned.

“like it?” cheol took a step out from behind the desk that was, just about, covering his lower half, showing you his hardened length stretching his briefs, “oh no, princess i love it” he grinned, grabbing your bare elbows and caressing them slightly.

“really?” you spoke sweetly, batting your eyelashes at his comment

“yes, really. i would just like to know where the fuck you are going dressed like the needy little whore you are” he almost growled, moving his hands up your arms and back down again, grabbing your hips to pull you flush against him, making sure you feel his hardened dick.

you tried to rub your thighs together to get at least a bit of friction to relieve the growing need in between your legs, he smirked as he felt you move against his leg.

“fuck, keep moving against me like that and i might have to bend you over my desk and show you how much of a dirty little slut you’re being, rubbing up against me like this? what would mingyu say if you were a little late? do you think he would care all that much if i fucked you right here in my office?” cheol husked in your ear, you whimpered in response.

he smirked as he picked you up, wrapping his arms around your thighs. he sat back comfortably in his big office chair, sitting you down so one leg was either side of his right thigh, he held your hips, squeezing the warm soft flesh.

“you are gonna sit right here and rub your pretty little pussy against my thigh until you cum over and over again and your begging me to stop baby” he ordered, you nodded in response. cheol harshly grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him “words, princess, use your words” he cooed

“okay daddy, i’ll be good, I swear” you beg, rocking your hips against his thigh, moaning and throwing your head back at the delicious feeling of his thigh against your dripping core. your panties were now soaked from the way you had been so aroused earlier on.

cheol places a hand over your mouth in order to keep your moans muffled and quiet, after all, you couldn’t afford anyone walking in and seeing you two like this. cheol moved your dress further up your ass, stopping it just above your hips and where your sides dipped in. he reached his hand down to your pussy and moved your panties to the side, so that now your bare clit was rubbing harshly against his briefs, giving you the best amount of pleasure.

you swayed your hips against his thigh, grasping at his shoulders and letting your nails dig into them through the fabric of his rolled up sleeves. it turned you on to see your boyfriend like this, his veiny arms digging into your hips, guiding your movements against him. then, you got an idea, you wanted to pleasure him too, so you moved your right hand down to between his legs to palm his length through his pants, keeping on with your movements.

“fuck, honey, that’s right, make daddy feel so good” he groans out, throwing his head back to rest on his chair.

the moan you let out would have been painfully loud if you didn’t have cheol’s hand covering your mouth as tightly as he was. you were seeing stars as you felt yourself come nearer and nearer you high.

“fuck, daddy, gonna cum” you whimpered out through his hand

“good girl, so am i, gonna cum with me? yeah?” he groaned. he sounded sinful but angelic at the same time.

you let everything go as you came, your nails digging harshly into cheol’s shoulders. He held you as you shook, slowly coming down from your high.

suddenly, you both heard someone come near the office, the person’s footsteps becoming louder as they neared the door. cheol quickly moved you into a standing position and shoved you down onto the floor, you know he didn’t mean to be harsh. you were now curled underneath his desk as the person knocked at the door. cheol’s chair wasn’t that far away.

you could reach your hand out to his lap without the other person being able to see as they spoke about work, so that’s what you did. you wanted to tease cheol, besides, he looked so hot talking to someone about his work. he always did when he was talking to you about all of the shitty things that happened at his work that day.

you palmed him through his briefs again, feeling him grow hard once again. he glanced down at you, giving you a small warning look before looking back up to continue the conversation with his colleague.

not long later, his colleague left, and you could tell that cheol was close to coming again. he closed his eyes and let out a small breath. grabbing your hand and stilling your movements with it. he gently pulled you from underneath the desk and up to a standing position, he came up with you, towering over your smaller figure.

“did i not tell you to be good? hm?” he cooes

“i’m sorry daddy, i really am” you beg

“just wait until i fuck you dumb like the little slut you are honey, turn around” he ordered, you did as he said, turning around so that your ass was facing him. you felt him press flush up against your ass, his hardened dick pressing into the soft flesh. “such an obedient girl when you want to be, take your panties off” again, you do as he says, he nods “good fucking girl, see, its not that hard to be good is it now?” he husks in your ear, you shake your head.

his hand grabs your chin roughly.

“what did i say about using your words honey, use them” he growls

“i’m sorry daddy, i can be good, i promise” you whimper, he lets go of your chin

“that’s what i thought, good girl, next time i wont be so nice about it. now bend over so i can see that pretty little pussy of yours”

“yes daddy” you say, doing as he says and bending yourself over, placing your upper half on the desk you were just underneath, giving a handjob to your sexy boyfriend

“such a good fucking girl” he groans, you yelp as a harsh slap lands itself on your ass

you feel another and another until he eventually stops, smiling down at you and pulling down his pants. he pumps himself a few times before pressing his hardened tip to your entrance, precum and the cum from not long ago sticking to his large dick.

he teases you as he pushes himself into you agonizingly slowly, but eventually he was fully inside of you. before you knew it, his tie was off, and he was shoving his fingers in your mouth to open it. he tied the tie around the back of your head, it was in your mouth, acting like a gag.

you moaned as you felt him start to move, pulling almost entirely out of you before slamming right the way back into you harshly. he snapped his hips faster and faster as he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them above your head, taking you from the behind.

“i bet you fucking like this don’t you, you slut? having daddy take you from the behind as punishment for your actions, being so needy that you couldn’t wait a few more hours for me to fuck you dumb like the little whore you are. so fucking needy huh?” he drawls out into your ear, you moan out in response, too fucked out to respond “aw, look at my poor baby, too fucked out to respond to a simple question daddy asks you, huh?” you nod in response “yeah? well maybe i’ll just have to fuck you harder so you can’t respond to anyone for the rest of the night, yeah? how do you think everyone would feel about that? my girl being too fucked out by her own boyfriend to answer a question they ask her huh?” he starts pounding into you faster and a lot more harder, making sure his massive cock hits the spot deep inside of you that makes you feel pure ecstasy and see a ton of stars clouding your vision. he holds your wrists above your head with one of his hands, while the other grabbed a handful of your hair and snapping your head back harshly, you moaned out loudly in response, making cheol grin widely.

the only sound that could be heard bouncing off of the office walls was skin against skin and your wetness taking his cock perfectly, fitting him snug inside of you as you clenched around his dick.

“look at you, taking my dick so fucking well, huh? maybe we should do this more often, what do you think?”

“yes daddy, please, gonna cum” you whined out pathetically, your voice being muffled slightly by the tie.

“you can cum since you’ve been such a good girl and taken daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are” he groans out, throwing his head back.

you cum harder than before, your pussy clenching around cheol’s dick, your body spasming from the intensity of your orgasm. he came not long after, pulling out and replacing his dick with his fingers to push his warm seed back inside of you.

“here’s what you’re gonna do” he pulls you up and turns you around so that you are now sat on top of his desk, “you, are gonna go out with mingyu, with my cum buried inside of you, and if you manage to keep all of it inside of you, i’ll reward you later. sound good?” he says as he unties the tie from your mouth and pulls your panties back up, pulling your dress down to cover yourself. he had already gotten himself redressed.

“yes daddy” you mutter under your breath, he smiles and lifts your chin up to look at him

“good, now go and doll yourself up again, and have fun. i’ll send you some money, okay?” he pecks your nose

“you don’t have to-“ you try to protest

“i want to, princess, now go” he pecks your lips before getting you to stand up.

you make your way over to the door, but just as you leave, you feel a playful slap on your ass again

“cheol!” you almost screech

“i couldn’t help myself” he shrugs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders “ass looks so good in that dress” he shoves his face into your neck

“i know” you smile cheekily

“damn princess, your ego is bigger than my dick” he brings his head back up to look you in the eyes

“well now it just got even bigger” you smrik

“so did my dick” he says sincerely

“choi seuncheol!”

#fanfictions #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seventeen #kpop #smut

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sordidmusings · 1 year ago

Text

Switching Up Roles - Part 2/2 (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: gif relevant cuz this mf gets his hand privileges revoked 💀 I have finally finished it QuQ getting Buggy to admit his sub desires to you for anon is here! I really hope it is what you wanted and that you enjoy 🤍 there's lots of filth but there's also a lot of them being sweet dorks together and painfully in love because I couldn't help myself whoops

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns), NSFW my dude, very sub side of switch!Buggy, face sitting, oral (both receiving), light restraining, praise, degradation, edging, p in v, creampie, brat taming im p sure (Buggy doesn't mean to be a brat, petulance is just in his soul), takes a little to get to the sex but then it just keeps happening lol

Enjoy turning the clown into even more of a hot mess 🤡

Part 1

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy is, for once, at the door to your shared room, kicking off his shoes for the night, right when the last colors of sunset begin to fade and no later. His hat is pulled off and thrown with little care for where it lands and his gloves are yanked off and flung away. He stomps over to where you sit on the bed with heavy feet, plops you fully onto the bed with a complaining grunt, and flops his full weight on top of you with spread limbs. You would be chastising him right now, but all the air left your lungs when he belly-flopped you into the mattress. A few forceful breaths re-inflate your lungs, but by the time you have your words prepared, Buggy is finished with his prolonged and dramatic sigh, and he greets you with a “heya, sweetcheeks” that barely makes it out of the comforter engulfing his face.

Gods, you love this silly little man.

“Hello, lovebug,” you reply with a fond giggle. “I’d ask how you’re doing but the dramatic entrance told me everything.”

Another complaining grunt is his response.

“Sounds about right. How about this?” You shimmy yourself a touch so you can fully move your arms and slither them under his coat. Your fingers touch his sides before sweeping in and trailing next to his spine all the way up his back. You dig them in just enough to create resistance then you drag them all the way back down to the small of his back. You feel his shiver in your own body and bask in his happy sigh. “How about you let me take care of you tonight? You really need to spend some time relaxing before your body falls to pieces that won’t listen to you anymore. I don’t wanna have to put you together like a figurine again; you don’t come with assembly instructions.”

Something that sounds like “needing a waxing” vibrates into the mattress.

“You’re gonna have to repeat that one, Bubs.”

With a huff to let you know what an absurd effort you’re making him go through, Buggy turns his head to lay with his mouth next to your ear. “I said ‘sleep is relaxing’, dumbass.”

You easily ignore his toothless insult. You begin massaging the muscles under your hands on his lower back to ease him up some more. “Well, yeah, and that’s why I want to help you sleep like the dead.”

Ever a man with his mind frolicking in the gutter, Buggy gets some new found pep. He breaks out the rough whisper he knows you love to say, “And how do you plan on doing that, sweet treat?”

You turn to him and inch in close enough to speak against his lips, “Why waste time telling you when I can show you?”

Buggy’s pressing his lips to yours before you finish the final word. The kiss is full of ease with its slow rhythm and syrupy movements. You pull back to tease his lips with a brush of your own and take a moment to savor breathing the same air. Buggy won’t let you stop for long; his impatience for your touch always becomes all consuming after he gets that first taste. He’s still gaining more energy back and using it to put more strength into his movements. He props himself up on one elbow and his opposite hand slides over to palm the base of your skull. His thumb brushes the sensitive skin behind one ear and his fingers easily reach to the other, leaving you completely at his control. He gently sucks your bottom lip before giving it a hungry nip, and it comes back to you that you’re supposed to be leading this night somewhere.

When you go to pull away, Buggy’s hand keeps you exactly where he wants you. He responds to your attempted escape by teasing his tongue between your lips. This man clearly knows how weak you are for him, because you couldn’t keep yourself from deepening the kiss if you tried. Why would you ever deny yourself these moments where you could taste each other’s want on the smooth slide of tingling tongues? Wait. No. Focus.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he breathes out in response to another attempt to pull back, this one weaker. “Don’t you wanna be my good little slut?” You let out a high-pitched moan into his mouth at that, internally cursing him for being so hot. “I need my cock-hungry pretty baby to make me feel good. Didn’t you want to be my cocksleeve? My little toy to fuck whenever and however I want?”

Yes, yes you did. You loathe your past self for giving him that ammunition to use against you right now. Without meaning to, you spread your legs fully, making space for his hips to shimmy flush to your center. He rewards you with firm grinds of the thick bulge straining against his pants. His movements are unhurried, letting you focus on every moment and the way his cock drags on your heat, reminding you of every time it had you drunk on pleasure before. The promise it gives you is mouthwatering. You realize that you may have miscalculated. You had thought his brain would be too fried from the week to use your soft spots against you, but here he is, getting you wet and pliant with one deep kiss and some choice words. What a bastard.

You try pulling away again and are met with the same result. Fine then.

Buggy squawks and flinches back when you pinch his side. He splits at the waist to keep his lower half on you and floats his upper body out of your attack range. The look he gives you is absolutely seething, but you would not be moved. You remain unimpressed.

“I did pull back multiple times. What if I had to sneeze and you made me headbutt you?” you reason, knowing it was too obvious that you were enjoying yourself to pretend otherwise. The way your legs are still happily hooked around his hips would be all the argument he needs against you.

“You always do those little prep inhales and reel back like you’re getting an exorcism. Would’ve given me plenty of time to get out of the line of fire,” Buggy grouses, crossing his arms to give you his most petulant pout.

You make an exaggerated gasp and distort your voice to sound tearful when you say, “I thought you loved me for my dramatic sneezes! Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“Every. single. day,” he deadpans.

“And here I was,” you begin, shoving his legs off and standing from the bed, “Ready to play doting housewife for you and undress you with kisses and massages and love!” You turn your back to him to really sell the soap opera scene. Using the word “love” may have been a little bit underhanded; you both have been skittering around saying your first “I love you”s, only daring to use the weighted word indirectly. Even so, it was always easy to see how hearing the word from your lips would make him forget everything else and seek another hit of it from you.

“Aw come on, baby,” he draws out, already switching from pouting brat to placating lover. “We can still do that right?”

There is a lot of frantic rustling behind you. You peek at him over your shoulder, only allowing yourself to turn enough to see him in the corner of your eye. He is popped back together and is sitting up on his knees. He had skooched himself to the edge of the bed right behind you, where he is now giving you his best puppy dog face. You’re able to hold out just long enough for him to start wondering if your anger was all play before you spin around and chirp, “Only if you make a deal with me!”

Buggy flings himself back out on the bed and groans, “Fiiiiiiiiine.”

“It’s one you’ll like, I promise,” you soothe. You ease Buggy to sit up at the edge of the bed, laughing at the way he’d sway too far into whichever direction you pulled him, staying just one step removed from going dead weight. Once he’s settled into his spot, you take a moment to examine him. It doesn’t go unnoticed to you that his back is hunched forward under the weight of his exhaustion. Though his eyes are playful, they also hold dark bags, which peek out around his makeup. Your heart aches for him. Even when he is overworked and needing sleep, he’s taking the time to goof around with you and listen to your requests. You’d make sure he had the best sleep of his life tonight. You’d get him all clean and cozy and ready for bed and then you’d make him cum so hard that his brain blue screens. Truly a proper recipe for a good night’s rest.

“How’d you take off your gloves at the door but not your coat?” you ask, pushing said coat off his strong shoulders. He helps you by pulling out his arms. While your eyes admire any new skin exposed to you, Buggy keeps his eyes on your face.

“Can’t feel you through the gloves,” he explains. Oh, wow, that’s actually really sweet- “You ever try to enjoy tits and ass through fabric? Doesn’t work as well.”

You puff out an exasperated laugh. Yep, there’s your Buggy.

Before you move on to take off his scarf, you brush your fingertips along his neck and jaw to enjoy the warmth of his skin and the scratch of his stubble. Once the cloth is gone, you begin using your lips instead. He reaches out to hold your hips in a practiced welcome when you settle into his lap. Anywhere your kissing moves, Buggy opens himself up to your touch. You nose his jaw up for his head to fall back and kiss your way along his pulse. Your hand comes up to support the other side of his neck, your thumb admiring the shape of his adams apple. Your other hand hooks into his shirt’s collar and pulls it aside for more access. By the time you follow his collarbone to his shoulder, your kisses are open-mouthed, sucking and licking at his skin. When you move back over to the base of his neck, you feel his throat bob from a heavy swallow then vibrate under your thumb with his pleased hum.

Eager kisses lead you up to his ear, which you greet with a nip. Pulling back, you blow cool air on him to light up the damp trail you left behind. While your lips explore him, his hands explore you. They had started at your hips and are now massaging indulgently at your chest. Like everything else, the motion is not rushed, which perfectly compliments the teasing way he thumbs your nipples through your shirt.

After a sweet kiss to his temple, you undo his bandana, exposing his beautiful blue hair. You guide his head down to rest against your sternum so you can more easily take out the pins and ties keeping his hair in place. Buggy hums in pleasure from the relief in his scalp once his waves of long hair all fall free. You help soothe it further by massaging your fingers from the nape of his neck, around to temples, up to crown, and back down again. You always love when you can play with his hair; it’s become covetously soft in your care and you’ve become addicted to the faint smell of shampoo topped with ocean spray that came from it.

Buggy’s hands move from your chest so he can wrap you in a loose hug. He mindlessly massages your lower back and ass while you tend to him. The break from your kissing lets him regain enough thought to ask, “You gonna let me know about the terms I’ve agreed to or am I supposed to start guessing?”

You give him a sweet giggle and kiss the top of his head. While moving on to unclasp his many belts, you reply, “If you insist then I guess I’ll tell you.” Even his shirt has belts, what is this? Yeah, they look nice, but each one is one more step between you and getting him naked. “What you’re gonna do-” you don’t miss his shiver at the sternness in your tone “-is lay there and enjoy what I give you.” You soften up just a touch. “I’m here to make you feel better. I need you to trust that.”

“Of course I do,” he says, almost offended. He earns a kiss with the ease and earnestness of his response.

Finally, all the belts are undone and his shirt is opened. Buggy pops his arms off so you can easily push it off of him without the rest of his body moving an inch. He reassembles while your hands work on touching every new stretch of skin. You’d never tire of feeling his abs twitch under your touch or tracing the contours of his body. You get bolder, scratching pink lines through the light texture of his blue chest hair. It matches his stubble in a handsome blue, slightly darker than the hair on his head.

With a grip on his hair, you ease Buggy’s head off of your chest. He moans at the pull of it on his tender scalp and hopes you think it's from discomfort. The way you turn your hand so it pulls firmer, earning more sounds, lets him know he’s not fooling you. He finds that he doesn’t care when he sees the appraising look you’re giving him.

Now that he’s sat up, you get back to work on marking him up. There’s a gentle, tingling scratch of hair against the skin of your face while you work him over. Buggy is slowly and surely falling apart between your dominating hand and worshiping lips. Where before he felt the need to muster the energy to meet you for pleasure, he is now surrendering to let you control when and how he feels it. He lets himself lean into your grip and keeps himself relaxed, only moving his hips in mindless grinds. Having this man offer you free access to himself is winding you up quickly. You needed to get this moving along. You could take all the time you wanted soon. After smearing a few more kisses across his chest, you get up to work on getting him out of his pants.

“Come on, Bugs, let’s get you out of the rest of those clothes,” you coo, moving back to stand in front of him.

“You want me naked~” Buggy taunts in a singsong voice like a schoolyard bully, giving you the cheekiest grin. He holds out his arms (making grabby hands of course) for you to pull him up. With a sturdy heave, you get the sleepy clown back on his feet.

“You’ve found me out,” you whisper in fake shame. “Whatever will I do?”

“Well, toots, you can buy my silence with kisses,” he offers.

After giving many quick kisses all over his face, many with exaggerated “mwah!”s to get more giggles out of him, you move on to his pants. Buggy stays quiet and pliant while you undid them and pull them down to his ankles, following them down to the floor. You are happy to see that familiar bulge more clearly while he’s just in his boxers. You kiss along his length through them, making it twitch eagerly. His hand comes to rest on your head, letting you know how much he wants you to stay there. You look up at him, making eye contact, before pulling back and pulling his boxers down to join his pants. You think it’s cute the way his breath still catches from seeing you like this. It’s also cute the way his hands move to your shoulders to help him balance while you take off his pants and boxers then pull each sock off of his feet.

Buggy settles himself to recline on the pillows at the head of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head. He eats up the way your eyes scrape over every inch of his spread out body. It isn’t lost on him the way your eyes always gravitate towards the prize laying heavy on his stomach, highlighted by a deep blue happy trail and trimmed curls. “Your turn, sweet cheeks,” he prompts.

“Not so fast,” you say, turning away from him and going to grab some items on the dresser. You turn back holding out a cloth and bowl of water to answer Buggy’s raised brow. He is not happy with your answer.

“Come ooooon,” he complains. “Aren’t you used to the makeup by now?”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious,” you respond, gesturing to the marks he’s left on your face and chest. “But our skin will be happier without it and you’ll feel better sleeping clean and without a whole stage show’s paint on your pillow.”

“But I want you on me now,” he growls. Okay that greedy tone almost won you over, but you could use his weak spots too.

“I also..” you had wanted to only play shy but found that the feeling became genuine. “I also want to see you bare faced tonight.” Buggy narrows his eyes so you continue. “Don’t get me wrong, the makeup is sexy - like obviously, you’ve seen how I get - but you’re handsome without it too. And sometimes all I wanna see is you.”

He relents easily, trying to hide the blush that burns up his cheeks and down his neck. You reward him by making very quick progress of getting him fresh faced and cleaning the smears off of your own face and body, before moving onto your clothes.

You’d like to say that you were sexy in the way that you stripped yourself, but the reality is that you were quick and unchoreographed in your rush to get back to Buggy. He’d never complain though; there’s already plenty of your mouth watering strip teases filed away in his mind. There was also a rush in knowing how quickly you want to touch him again. And in the way the rush has your tits and ass jiggling.

Buggy reaches out to welcome you back into his lap, but is blindsided when you move to grab and spread his ankles instead. The way you crawl in between his legs is slow and maddening. Where’s that impatience that had you tearing off your clothes? Buggy can’t lie, he does love the way you’re kissing up his legs and the way it lets him savor how your body moves and curves. His worn body and thumping heart are addicted to the way you’re touching him. The problem is that he’s having trouble thinking of anything beyond the way his cock throbs angrily at the lack of attention.

The whispers, nips, and kisses that you layer on his thighs stay just on the right side of ticklish. Buggy’s hands follow your movements, brushing into your hair and tugging gently whenever you find a particularly sensitive spot. You keep at it until his thighs are twitching and jumping to your touch and he’s lost control of the pace of his breath. It’s only then that you begin teasing his cock with soft lips and cold blown air. You mix in firm, sedate licks to keep hinting at the relief your mouth could bring.

Buggy detaches his hands and begins to trail them down your sides. He’s hoping that playing you with his fingers would urge you along. Beyond that, he needs to feel how slick and warm you are and get his mind ready for the feeling that would soon slide over his aching cock by sinking his fingers into your plush grip. You quickly stop his plot by plopping your hips flush to the bed so that he can get no further than groping your ass.

“Ah ah ah, I didn’t say you could touch me yet,” you reprimand. Buggy whines back at you and you nip his upper inner thigh. “Hands,” you command, holding your own out. Even with his protests, he detaches his hands and floats them to your own. You link your fingers together with his then shove his hands down into the mattress, leaning your weight on them.

With him disarmed, you focus back to winding him up. Taking his head into your mouth, you begin swirling your tongue. Buggy manages to keep his hips from pushing more of him into you, but they shake with the effort. You turn your head to the side and begin massaging his head into the inside of your cheek, careful to keep your teeth off of him. He bites out curses and looks down at you to burn the image of your cheek bulging from his cock into his mind forever. He begins to let his hips lead the movements pressing out your cheek, so you pull him back out of your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Buggy pleads. He needs to keep feeling you or he’s sure he’ll go insane.

“I didn’t hear you say please,” you snark at him. He starts chanting the word for you in hopes to fix his mistake and earn your mouth back, but you’re already decided on the matter. Instead of sucking on him again, you simply nose around his hips and crotch to tease him, using what you could with your hands occupied restraining him. You found you enjoyed it; he smells strongly of clean skin and sex and the new method of touching him lets your brain notice new details to cherish. “It’s too late, silly clown,” you taunt.

When he can take no more, Buggy detaches an arm and bends it around the back of your neck. He pulls you into him by the crook of his elbow and growls out, “more”. You glare up at him before quickly taking him back into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, grinding his head there while sucking harshly and gripping his balls.

Buggy yelps out an apology, the sensation way too much to process so suddenly. His arm flies back to him and you ease your grip on him. You soothe him with a few gentle bobs of your head before popping off and leaving a kiss to the soft skin on the underside of his cock. That sharp hit to his nerves chased by the tender touch fogs up his mind.

“I’ll do what you want, please tell me what you want,” he begs.

“What I want-” you’re crawling your way back up his body, “-is for you to be honest with me. Tell me what you’ve been hiding this whole time.”

Buggy’s face scrunches in genuine confusion. “I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“You sure?” you press. You lean towards his lips, which gently part in anticipation of a kiss. The moment before your lips brush, when you feel his stuttered breath, you change course and ghost your lips across his jaw to his ear. “But it would make me so happy if you just told me,” you whisper. “You usually make me feel so good.” You can feel him listening intently. “You don’t want to be good for me?” He stills completely. “Don’t you want to be my good little toy?” His whole body shivers beneath you. You kiss and suck your way down his neck and he leans his head away to give you as much access as possible. “Just say it baby and I’ll make you feel good.”

If you weren’t so busy buried in his neck, you would see the breathtaking mix of apprehension and need flaring in his bright eyes while he debates how to answer you.

“I want you to use me. I-” he trails off and looks away, losing his nerve.

You begin gently petting his hair and placing kisses on the side of his face. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He looks back at you and his shining eyes and furrowed brow plead for the promise that you’re telling the truth. You give him a firm kiss on the lips, which he eagerly returns with a small suckle to your bottom lip. You pull back to check in, looking into his eyes, before encouraging him again. “Keep going, lovely. I wanna hear it.”

Buggy tenses once more before he seems to let his resistance break and fall out of every muscle, leaving him limp and prone amongst the pillows and sheets. “I want to be your toy - I want you to take charge and do what you want to me. I want.. I want to follow your orders.”

The kiss you gift him is ravenous, and he fills with relief. “You’re so good to me, baby,” you praise, and that relief triples.

You reassuringly squeeze his captive hands and lead your way back down his body with your lips. The transition helps relax him and loosens his mind again. As you get back to your sweet torture, he keeps reaching downward not remembering that his hands aren't there then whining when he doesn’t reach your head. You switch his hands to being clamped between your knees so you can scratch your nails down his thighs, using just enough pressure to leave long pink trails. Taking it further, you move your mouth away from his dick to work across his v-line. Buggy gets more fussy at the lack of attention on his cock, squirming and whimpering below you.

Mouth still busy on his soft skin, you use one hand to palm over his balls to the underside of his dick and curl your hand closed around him, one finger at a time. You angle his cock upright, enjoying the feeling of his precum beginning to trail down across your fingers. Your mouth changed course back closer to him, emptying his mind of any thoughts but “yes, yes, yes-”. He blanks out completely when your blazing hot tongue drags across his balls during a squeeze and a pump of his dick. The relief is short lived when your grip loosens and stills and your mouth leaves him completely. His head snaps down to see why you stopped and he sees that you’re already giving him a malicious smirk. Your eyes stay on his when you pucker your lips to blow on his aching tip. His head snaps back sharply, the movement exaggerated by his hair.

“You’re going so sloooow,” Buggy complains, frustrated. “I thought you were gonna take care of me.” He sounds impressively sulky.

“If you’re not happy with my services,” you start in a measured tone, moving forward until you are nose to nose, “then you can take care of yourself.” His face pales. You look down at his dick in your hand thoughtfully before saying, “Better yet I can just steal your cock and run off to the showers to take care of myself.”

“No!” Buggy wants it to come out like an order but it is definitely an anxious plea.

“Oh, so you’re telling me I can’t?” He shrinks even more under your glare, making you feel powerful.

“Just stay in here, pleeeease, need to see you feel good,” Buggy begs, voice small. “Don’t even need to cum, just need you.”

You aren’t supposed to give in unless on your own time, but knowing that he’s only thinking of your pleasure is making you weak.

“I thought you wanted to be my good little toy and good toys don’t whine and make demands. They are happy with what they’re given if their owners give them anything at all.” He whimpers. “Right now you’re more of a fucking brat.”

“Noooooo,” his broken complaint sounded delicious, but the look on his face was nearing too close to real distress.

“No?” You mock. You look down at him with a condescending pout. Your eyes bore into his, needing to notice every little detail of his next reaction. “Oh, baby, if you’re not a brat then you’re just a pussy-hungry slut.”

Buggy shuts his eyes and moans loudly at your words. The sound of his own voice calling you a cock-hungry slut many times over echoes from his memories. He didn’t think having his own insults turned on him would feel so invigorating. It’s clear to you that that is much more what he wants to be for you. Your slut; not your brat. How sweet. When all his layers are peeled back he only wants to please.

“That’s okay you sick little thing. You just can’t help it, can you?” He shakes his head with those gorgeous, shining eyes pleading at you. “If you’re so hungry, I guess I gotta feed you so you can shut. up.”

Before his mind even realizes that you began moving, you flip around and sit directly on his face. Your strong thighs are clamping his arms down to his sides, leaving his hands to be snatched up in your own again. You’ve positioned yourself so his mouth is at your clit and his nose is teasing your entrance. He gives a thick inhale and presses his tongue out to lap at you with a satisfied moan.

“Much better,” you groan, completely self-satisfied.

You waste no time before you begin rocking your hips. The room fills with the sloppy sounds of him licking and sucking at you, overly enthusiastic about having your pussy in his face.

“Now stick out that tongue for me,” you order, giving him his only warning before you drop much of your weight down to get the best pressure of his tongue, nose, and chin against you. The sensation has you clenching against the surface of his nose, getting it wet. You switch between a few long grinds from cupid’s bow to chin and making sharp circles of your clit on his tongue.

Buggy barely gets any time to fully breathe and he loves it. His head has become a murky swirl of your addicting taste and smell and the lovely sounds of you moaning for him. It sends pleasure prickling through him, making him burn with need, but he’s sure he’d stay on this painful precipice forever if it meant you kept using him to feel good. Buggy’s moans are becoming slurred whines as he gets drunk off your pussy. He was trying so hard to be perfect for you. He would stiffen his tongue to grind back into you or curl the end up for you to use on your clit. He’s ignoring his nerves at having his nose be an active participant, because he feels the way you follow its pressure. His hands are clamped on yours, floating in front of you to give you better leverage to move. He’s done good to not pull either of them away and give his leaking cock the relief it desperately needs. He deserves a reward.

You bring his hands in to place them on your breasts, where they need no direction to start working you. The warm, grounding pressure of them kneading your breasts is broken up by little circles, pinches, and pulls to your nipples that send tingles to your spine and straight down to your clit. Once they’re settled on you, you curl forward to place your head back in front of his red, twitching dick. You put your elbows down by Buggy’s sides and take advantage of the fact that he’s too lost between your legs to notice where you’ve put your face.

Buggy arches and yelps when you blow strong, cold air on his head and tease your fingertips along his Apollo's belt. His utter excitement at your attention shows in his bucking hips and pressing face. His whole body is buzzing with the thought, “I did good!”

“Your mouth is fucking good, perfect for an eager slut” you praise. Buggy keens loudly into you, sending strong vibrations through your pussy. “I’ll have to steal your head as my seat more often.” You flick your tongue on his frenulum, earning a strong twitch. “I’ll hunt you down any time I need to cum and force you down under me,” you promise in a husky voice.

Finally, you slide him into your mouth and moan at the familiar taste and weight and heat. He’s as sensitive as you’ve ever seen him, hips and cock jerking. You tease a hand down to cup his balls and feel them pull tight while his dick starts a familiar pulse, his voice going wild in your ears. Oh?

“Not so fast, stupid doll,” you warn, moving your hand to make a tight ring around the base of his cock. “Thought you could just cum without getting me off first?”

Buggy tries to get out apologies but his mouth is too busy buried in your pussy.

“I’m touching you as a reward. Don’t get greedy,” you scold. Then you’re putting him back in your mouth and he’s sobbing under your cunt. You couldn’t do anything more than light sucking and trailing your hands on him before you’d have to pull back and keep him from cumming. Each time, he’d try to apologize and each time he would look and sound more and more pathetic. By the time you feel the pressure of your own orgasm pulsing throughout your hips, he’s shaking like a leaf.

The crackling complaint Buggy let out when you pulled yourself off of his face was heartbroken. His fingers slipped and pulled as they made their way from your breasts down to your hips, where they weakly tried to pull you back down on him.

“Shhh sweet boy,” you soothed, placing your hands reassuringly over his, “I’m just gonna use your cock now, gotta give that pretty face a break.”

That quickly distracts him from the loss of your touch, if his urgent pleas and raised hips are anything to go by. You get down to his hips and lean forward slightly, gripping firmly onto each of his warm thighs for stability. You admire the lines that twist over them as his muscles move and react to you. Feeling a little bit sadistic, you grip them hard enough to bruise and hover just close enough to his cock so that he feels the heat of you there but only the ghost of your touch.

“Please touch me,” he begs. “So close, need to feel you-”

Buggy continues to babble and you continue to hover, delighting in the way his dick would sometimes jump up to tap your entrance, electrifying both of you. He squirms under the strength and weight of your grasp on his thighs, trying to chase you with his hips. Suddenly, he splits his legs off above your grip and is finally able to grind fully into you, gliding smoothly through the thick mix of slick, spit, and precum between you. An absurdly hot groan rushes out of him, starting as all exhale before morphing into a loud tone supported by a rumble in his chest. Your mind blanks with your own gasping moan before you recenter yourself and let your dead weight drop on him, shoving his hips deeply down into the mattress.

You had angled your hips to save your clit from all pressure but the tap of his balls when they bounced up from the impact, but Buggy was given no such mercy. The first hit between your weight and the bed presses his cock near painfully between the two of you, but he can’t deny the way the feeling sent prickles across his every nerve and the relief after it let up has him baring his teeth in his bid to not cum. Instead of nice grinds, you simply oscillate your weight around your hips to keep giving him too much stimulation but not the right kind.

“Am I not doing good enough for you?” you ask, voice carrying a warning that he better answer properly.

“N-no I love it, I was just-”

“Just what?” you interrupt, hand moving from bruising his thigh to cup his balls, adding to the threat in your tone.

“Couldn’t think! S-sorry, I’m sorry -hhhanh- ” Buggy keeps his apologies streaming because he can’t stop disobeying you - he can’t help making tight little movements of his hips against you to feel more of you.

“Having trouble being the one fucked stupid, little whore?” you goad. “Don’t like being so pussy-whipped you can’t think like a person anymore?”

“I love it,” he moans, fiercer than you expected. “Need it -hahh- need you, I’m yours, need to be yours.”

Fuck, you need to get him inside you; you were too close to cumming empty from hearing him talk like that. You keep the hand on his balls, starting to fondle them, and use the other to line him up with your entrance. You can already feel bliss curling in your toes as his fat head presses at you, but Buggy does the last thing you expect - he pulls back.

“No!” his voice breaks and you whip around, scared that something was wrong. He’s staring at you with wide, wet eyes. “Turn around, please, please, wanna see you.” You relaxed knowing he wasn’t hurt or scared or uncomfortable. He begins to have trouble looking at you, turning his head away shyly and letting some of his hair sweep over to shield his face. “Want you to look at me.”

You’re getting whiplash after being thrown from panic to overwhelmed with affection so quickly. You move slowly and smoothly when you turn yourself around and slink your body down over him. You rest on your elbows and slowly lower your hips back down to him, this time grinding his head against your clit generously. Buggy’s head spins between the fire you’re tending in him and the loving way you hold his face and brush away his hair.

“You sure you can take it, honey?” you ask softly. “You can’t even look at me right now.”

“I can!” he asserts, needing to prove himself to you. He turns his face to yours and flicks his gaze to your eyes and away a few times before he’s able to lock eyes with you. You pet his face and continue your smooth grinding, taking the time to look at him like he wants you to. Buggy’s face is the most beautiful shade of pathetic you’d ever seen; shimmering tear tracks highlight skin that is pink and flushed and damp with sweat. The color of his cheeks brings out the ruby color of his nose and you can’t resist brushing your own nose against it. He tries to flinch back but you follow him. When he turns his face away, you lure him back to you with sweet kisses. When he faces you again, you intensify the stable grinding you’ve kept up to nudge him a little closer to the edge once again.

“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent and honest. Your eyes are looking right into his, seeing him in a way that has him feeling worshiped. Loving fingers map out the structure of his cheekbones and jaw, moving on to chart his lips. They kiss at your fingertips sweetly. “I have the prettiest toy on the seas. Better than any other treasure.”

He perks up at that, giving you a moan and bucking hips.

“You wanna be my treasure?” you ask, getting an immediate, breathy “yes” from him.

“Well I love every bit of my treasures, from their gems to their dents,” you tell him. “After they’ve caught my eye with their beauty, the only thing they need to do to stay my treasures is let me care for every piece of them.” You brush your noses together again, staring at him pointedly. “Can you do that for me?”

There’s real conflict in Buggy’s eyes and you slow your hips to let him think. After a few long breaths, his whole body tenses and he nudges his nose back into yours in a hesitant eskimo kiss.

You turn your head and crash your lips on his in a consuming kiss full of teeth and tongue and praises. You’re bursting with your pride and love from his show of trust and he’s lost in the flood of your acceptance. Your hips are insistent again and, without breaking the kiss, you reach down and, at last, guide his cock into you.

Buggy cranes his head back again, so you switch to sucking and biting his neck. You can’t taste or feel enough of him, he’s not close enough. Even when he’s deep enough to lick at your cervix you need more of him. Even though he’s wedged you open enough for you to feel the pressure of it in your hips. Even though he’s crammed between your legs, ringing in your ears, sinking under your nails, sitting on your tongue, filling your breath - none of it is enough, so you keep taking more from him.

Though his hands have found their way onto your hips countless times, this grip felt foreign. Normally they’d hold firm and sure and guide you to move just how he needs you to. Right now, his grip is somehow tighter even though it’s all pawing and clawing. He has no control on how you fuck him, he’s just desperately trying to hold on for the ride and grasp more you - he’d do absolutely anything if it meant he’d get a single bit closer to you - to knowing nothing in this world other than every inch, every sound, every feeling that you have to offer. And then he’d beg for even more.

“Talk to me, treasure, tell me how you feel,” you urge.

“I -mngh!- I-I feel-” Buggy gasps out. It’s clear he’s trying to listen to you but that pretty little head of his is scrambled. He keeps his foggy eyes on you in an attempt to focus, despite how much they want to roll back behind fluttering lids. He pants and moans a few more times before licking his lips and trying again. “-’s good, so good, s-so -uungh- s’gooooood -hahh-”

“That’s my good man, my perfect treasure, my sweet love,” you coo somewhere between a whisper and a moan. The way he’s stretching you open, rubbing at you with his hot cockhead is fraying your control. The freedom to call him “love” sends flutters through your chest. Buggy is just as desperate for the claim, each time he hears the word a keening whine answers it.

“Please, please, need you to cum,” he pants. “Can’t -hhah- c-can’t-”

“You can and you will.” The command leaves no room for argument.

You’re getting so close, feeling the promise of your release in the tingle of your fingers, the heat searing through your trembling thighs, and the tight gripping in your body all the way from your throat to your pussy. The feelings pulse stronger with each clap of your hips to Buggy, each time his thick cock shoves you open and lights up every buzzing nerve that it rubs through your walls.

“Fuck, love, you can cum.” He feels your lips form the words against his racing pulse. It’s hard to keep track of what you’re saying through the white out in your head and the heat licking through your entire body. Your words rush out desperately, trying to get your scattered thoughts to him through a heavy tongue and a lack of air. “You’re so, so good, feel so good, gonna cum so fucking hard, love it so much, fuck, love how you make me feel so good-”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you-” he gasps out on loop as his hips stutter and his cock jumps, filling you up. His pathetic thanks and the feeling of him releasing into you send you over the edge and everything burns so good. Your body involuntarily bucks and trembles on him for a few seconds where you have no say. You find yourself caving into him under the weight of your clenching muscles. Every clench of your cunt around him feels long and gripping and lets your swollen walls feel him with a little more detail. You make small, slow circles of your hips to wring out his climax, which seems never ending. Rush after rush of hot cum fills you until it’s spilling back into his lap, but his hands still encourage your movements and his body still shakes and trembles and he still babbles praises into your shoulder. Even when the aftershocks are settling to fewer and further between, he lets out a pathetic whine any time you stop moving in an attempt to give him some respite. After indulging him in another minute of overstimulation, you slowly lift off of him, receiving an upset groan. You hush him with trailing hands and sweet kisses, which he happily returns.

When his breathing is finally steady, you take a moment to check him over. His face is so relaxed he actually looks knocked out, but he does hum in response to your light squeeze on his shoulder. Buggy’s lashes have always been beautiful, but they look especially nice sending shadows across his cheek bones. His hair is a wild mess around him, and it feels silky between your fingers when you detangle it. His broad chest is still moving a bit fast with his breath, but each rise is a bit larger and longer. You admire the way his breathing moves the red spots and pink streaks decorating him, especially enjoying their contrast to his blue chest hair. His throat bobbing on a heavy swallow points your attention back upwards, and you admire the way his dark stubble makes his jaw even sharper. A little higher, you notice how red and swollen his lips are and how shining tear tracks dry across his face. You’d never seen him so fucked out. It looks gorgeous on him.

Since Buggy is calm and settling, it’s time to get up and clean you both up a bit. This time he communicates his displeasure at your absence with a petulant grunt. You turn back with a raised brow to sass him but break out in laughter instead when you see he couldn't even muster the energy to turn his head toward you. You don’t think this man has even opened his eyes since before he came.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m just getting a towel to clean up.”

A begrudging grunt.

Good enough.

After quickly taking care of yourself, you reappear with a warm, damp towel. The moment Buggy feels your weight back on the bed, he musters all of his remaining strength and pulls you on top of him. You giggle while he grumbles something into your shoulder.

“One more time, Bugs.”

He sighs like you are the most unreasonable person he has ever met, and you laugh at the deja vu you’re feeling. His lips move up to your ear and you hum happily at the tingles his breath leaves behind. “You took too long.”

You roll your eyes. “Sorry, your highness. Just trying to make sure we don’t wake up sticky in a puddle. Now come on, it’s your turn.”

On the third attempt to pull back, he finally lets you go (with yet another grumble) and you set to work on wiping him down. You begin with his face, enjoying the hum he lets out at the light warmth in the soft cloth, and move down to his neck. You spend a little bit of extra time on his shoulders and chest, massaging between swipes of the towel. He obnoxiously flings each arm at you when you are ready for them, just to hear you laugh another time. He enjoys the emptiness of his head while you move to his calves and work your way up. On his thighs and stomach, you sprinkle sweet kisses that leave his heart feeling gooey. He falls in love with you all over again when you blow a raspberry on his side to rouse him once he gets too close to dozing off.

He thinks he is all out of aftershocks until he is savoring the last few when you finish cleaning him up. You leave a loving kiss on the sensitive skin just inside his hip bone, before standing up, again to a groan. Buggy was always touchy after sex (and honestly touchy in general; you’re surprised he doesn’t demand you to hold a detached hand at all hours) but this is something else. It has you thinking of how much you crave his affirming touch whenever he is pushy or rough with you during sex. You’re both lucky that you find his pouting endlessly endearing. Grabbing the blankets that had fallen from the foot of the bed, you finally make your way back to him.

“Took you long enough.” Buggy’s words are bratty, but his tone is sweet and starstruck. He’s making sure to enjoy the last bit of seeing you clearly before you turn off the light.

“Fine - next time I’ll throw you a towel and go find a clean hammock for myself,” you tease. “That should be much quicker.” You plop onto the bed next to Buggy, jostling him, and you fluff the blankets out over the two of you.

“Noooooooooo,” he whines. “You’d leave me to fend for myself like that? I’d die.” Even with the dark, the way you two move to intertwine is coordinated and sure, played out many times before.

“I’m pretty sure there’s cryptid in your bloodline; you should do just fine with survival,” you laugh, snuggling deeper into him. As always, a deep inhale of him (saltwater, spices, leather, smoke, musk) has you immersed in your safe space. “Aren’t you the self-proclaimed untamable man, oh great Captain Buggy?”

“I’ve been domesticated-” you guffaw “-and it’s all your fault so you need to take some responsibility for your actions.”

You settle your laughter and look to meet his gaze. By now your eyes have adjusted just enough for you to see the moonlight from the porthole reflecting in his eyes. The unguarded affection you spot in them stalls your breath.

“Okay.” The word promises much more than he had asked. The meaning seems to reach him, because he holds you just that much closer and plants a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

The brushing of the waves on the thick wooden sides of the ship guides your breath to deepen. The creaking of wooden boards and distant thunking of feet on the deck comfort you with their familiarity. Buggy is just barely hanging onto consciousness, trying to keep his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin. The last things your mind holds onto are the warmth seeping from Buggy’s body, the gentleness of those calloused fingertips, and the sleepy slur of his tender mumble.

“Goodnight, my brightest star.”

#buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #opla buggy #one piece #thirst hours #my writing #buggy smut #buggy x y/n #one piece smut #gn reader #afab reader #x reader

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