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its3nvy · 10 months

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"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;)

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

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Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you.

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed.

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy.

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails.

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes.

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve.

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat.

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers.

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form.

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you.

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice.

“Whatever you want, doll.”

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin.

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body.

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch. He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this.

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock.

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you.

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away.

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb.

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest. With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william bonney #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #wear the hat ride the cowboy #save a horse ride a cowboy

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honeyhotteoks · 10 months

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always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date.

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either.

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers.

You just wish you never told Mingyu.

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid.

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure.

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you.

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it.

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth.

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought.

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you.

You do fast math, panic math.

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home.

Your stomach churns.

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you.

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain.

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this.

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots.

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call.

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing.

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride.

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box.

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone.

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,”

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?”

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?”

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop.

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys.

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops.

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,”

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,”

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,”

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming.

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first.

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress.

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care.

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless.

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately.

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse.

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill.

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air.

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather.

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way.

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?”

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,”

He blinks, “y/n,”

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,”

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality.

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you.

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,”

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position.

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?”

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know,”

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.”

Oh.

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,”

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words.

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,”

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact.

“I know,” You sigh.

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?”

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,”

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish.

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,”

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.”

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,”

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait.

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory.

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,”

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone.

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.”

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,”

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,”

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road.

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,”

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile.

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,”

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,”

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?”

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,”

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave.

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,”

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in.

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain.

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.”

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?”

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,”

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,”

“I know,” You breathe.

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?”

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,”

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,”

“I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,”

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,”

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?”

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.”

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,”

His hand tightens on yours.

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,”

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour.

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you.

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,”

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,”

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.”

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,”

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green.

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,”

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty.

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,”

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?”

“Shut up,” He sighs.

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?”

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?”

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,”

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,”

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,”

He grimaces, “Ugh,”

“Exactly,”

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,”

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal.

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?”

“You want to come up?”

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol.

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times.

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,”

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here.

“So,” He clears his throat lightly.

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride.

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding.

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s.

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go.

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,”

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands.

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps.

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,”

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,”

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,”

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,”

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom.

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself.

But then he laughs again.

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?”

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf.

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,”

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign.

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile.

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,”

He nods, “I remember,”

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,”

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,”

“Mm,” You laugh.

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee.

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise.

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’”

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,”

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,”

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,”

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little.

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,”

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,”

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?”

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,”

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you.

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,”

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back.

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,”

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,”

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.”

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,”

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,”

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee.

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question.

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods.

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash.

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,”

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply.

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning.

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it.

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him.

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least.

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,”

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,”

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,”

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has.

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours.

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?”

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird.

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?”

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in.

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,”

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you.

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,”

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,”

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw.

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants.

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss.

“God,” He shivers.

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,”

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away.

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,”

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,”

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back.

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,”

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth.

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart.

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms.

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip.

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?”

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,”

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small.

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,”

“Okay,”

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?”

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards.

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.”

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,”

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,”

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?”

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,”

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,”

“Yeah,”

“And you wanted me?”

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,”

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,”

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,”

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity.

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,”

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out.

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,”

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat.

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,”

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?”

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,”

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,”

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again.

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,”

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,”

“Baby?”

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,”

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley.

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,”

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?”

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,”

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you.

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,”

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?”

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?”

“Please,” You whisper.

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric.

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess.

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,”

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else.

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,”

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,”

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,”

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises.

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,”

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again.

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction.

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,”

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,”

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

“Can I eat you out?”

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you.

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you.

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,”

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze.

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,”

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile.

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly.

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,”

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,”

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam.

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip.

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this.

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?”

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?”

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high.

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?”

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?”

“Of course,” You kiss him back.

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast.

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,”

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,”

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?”

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,”

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?”

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,”

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,”

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,”

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,”

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth.

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,”

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,”

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue.

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you.

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,”

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,”

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts.

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap.

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,”

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,”

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder.

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit.

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,”

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure.

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,”

Everything you are is trembling in his hands.

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,”

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin.

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,”

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,”

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,”

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,”

He sighs, “This pussy,”

“Cheol,” You blush hard.

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,”

“Anything?”

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.”

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?”

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,”

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,”

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench.

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen.

You want him inside you so badly you could cry.

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his.

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder.

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs.

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,”

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,”

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,”

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?”

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder.

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?”

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance.

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand.

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,”

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls.

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper.

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,”

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,”

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,”

Your muscles clench down around his fingers.

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?”

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,”

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?”

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again.

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,”

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you.

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz.

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again.

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you.

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams.

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go.

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease.

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down.

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms.

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?”

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,”

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?”

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone.

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,”

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him.

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,”

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock.

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,”

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him.

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,”

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him.

He nods, just a little.

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,”

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers.

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this.

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,”

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?”

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,”

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs.

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel.

“y/n,” He pants tightly.

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down.

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,”

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early.

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,”

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,”

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again.

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips.

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest.

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,”

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,”

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards.

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,”

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,”

Your eyes slam shut.

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,”

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter.

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming.

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,”

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

“So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss.

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,”

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm.

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,”

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you.

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,”

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together.

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move.

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?”

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,”

“Yeah?”

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,”

You laugh against him, “Next time?”

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,”

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,”

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,”

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,”

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,”

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,”

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,”

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,”

“Good,” He sighs.

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,”

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,”

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs.

Maybe you could rally.

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,”

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,”

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing.

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed.

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine.

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads.

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,”

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest.

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake.

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention.

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,”

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,”

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,”

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,”

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,”

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups.

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,”

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,”

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?”

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest.

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,”

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog.

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel.

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,”

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks.

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,”

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,”

“You what,” You blink.

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,”

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go.

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,”

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side.

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue.

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,”

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you.

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,”

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap.

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,”

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?”

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,”

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand.

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,”

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,”

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch.

#honeyhotteoks updates #honeyhotteoks fics #seventeen ff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt ff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups #scoups fic #scoups smut #scoups ff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol fluff

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kairoot · 2 months

Text

── ࣪ ˖ ❛ 𝓜𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑢𝑝 𝓥𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠．

‧₊˚ 𝓼𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: they do the voiceover for your makeup routine 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : enha x 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff , crack 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : jokes, profanity, pet names, this was shorter than i intended, some of these are kind of inspired by some tiktoks i saw.

— ( 𝓂𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ) : pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎

✿ member’s headcanons under the cut !!

⊹ 𝓁ℎ𝑠．

asking hee to do this was a piece of cake

he agreed to it immediately

he lovesssss watching you do your makeup

so when you asked him he was like, “well.. yes!”

gonna keep it real with you, he has absolutely no idea what ANYTHING is

he just knows the things that he buys for you and that’s it

flirty mcbirdy over here, he’s barely even watching the makeup, mostly watching you

“hi guys, today i’m doing my girlfriend’s makeup voiceover.” he says into the mic, the video starting with you priming your face as you’ve already did skincare prior to starting the video.

you were next to him while he narrated your routine, holding in your giggles as he began naming the products that you were using.

“okay so now she’s uhm.. damn she’s gorgeous..” he paused for a moment, watching you through the screen as you applied the first product of your base.

you nudged him, urging him to stay on topic as your face began to warm up.

“she’s applying, uh— the— the..” he thought for a moment, the product seemed familiar but he couldn’t think of the name.

it was foundation.

“and then she’s.. wiping it all over her face.” he mumbled, still not paying attention to what you were doing but admiring you instead.

“it’s blending, hee..” you whispered, not wanting the mic to pick up your voice.

expect the comments to go insane about hee’s little flirtatious comments.

⊹ 𝓅𝑗𝑠．

ngl, he’s a bit confused as to why you asked him to do this but he says yes anyway

why does this man actually know what the products are??

quite literally does the whole voiceover better than any beauty influencer you’ve ever seen..

compliments you throughout the video

he’s literally so polite

“hello everyone, today y/n has asked me to do her voiceover, so here i am!” he says excitedly, watching you apply the first product.

“so here, she’s putting some of the foundation in her t-zone.. she has really great skin.” he explains.

you’re sat next to him, shocked at how he’s able to understand the whole routine.

“after she blends, she goes in with her.. concealer, i think.” he was right again.

as you blend that out, jay begins talking about the product that you’re using.

“yes, i pay attention to my girl’s routine.” he says, knowing everyone’s gonna wonder how he could even know all of this. you bite back a smile, his comment making your heart warm.

now the whole internet wants a boyfriend like jay.

⊹ 𝓈𝑗𝑦．

he is very eager to do it. why? because he loves you and is so down bad for you

ummm he knows NOTHINGGG about makeup 😫

another flirty one

count how many times he says he wants to kiss you or compliments your lips challenge (jake is so weak for kisses, you cannot convince me otherwise)

he’s so giggly throughout the whole thing ??

he definitely gets flustered over your beauty, esp your bareface <3

he’s lowkey your hype man even though he has no idea what he’s talking abt

“hey guys, it’s jake! today i’m gonna give you all a tutorial for y/n’s everyday makeup.” he beamed confidently. he watched you start your routine, already giggling at the small things you do throughout the first 30 seconds.

“so she’s gonna start with, um..” his giggles cutting him off. “she’s starting with the putty stuff. it kind of looks like play-doh!”

“jake!” you nudge him a bit, rolling your eyes playfully.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs. “now she’s putting on.. powder? wait, no, that’s definitely bronzer.”

“yeahh, apply that bronzer, babe!” he exclaimed.

it was powder foundation ??

“she looks so good already, wanna give her a kiss..” he said, watching you pat the product onto your skin.

⊹ 𝓅𝑠ℎ．

bro is so impatient

he can’t think of any of the name of the products that you’re using which frustrates him to the MAX

pls don’t laugh at him, he will sulk 😕

cracks jokes abt how long you take

“now she’s applying.. uhm, glitter?” he tilted his head, watching you apply highlighter to the inner corners of your eyes.

“highlighter, babe.” you corrected him, holding back your laughs.

“whatever it is, it’s very shiny. and she’s putting it on so do whatever she’s doing if you want this look.”

you snorted a bit, finding his impatience hilarious.

“watch as she puts on her favorite mascara that she made me buy her.. because she doesn’t care about my pockets or if i go broke.” he sighed.

you landed a playful smack to his shoulder, scoffing.

“anyways, she takes forever.” he huffed. “she told me she was gonna be ready in 10 minutes but 10 minutes turned into two hours, so i guess im gonna have to wait.”

please don’t ever ask him to do this again.

⊹ 𝓀𝑠𝑤．

like jay, he knows what everything is

he’s actually really excited to do this

he pays attention when you do your makeup and pays attention when he gets his makeup done so

he basically knows what everything is he just.. doesn’t know how to do it

he knows all of your favorite products

count how many times he calls you pretty challenge:

“look at how pretty she is!” he exclaims as you prime your face. “i did her skin care by the way.”

he watched as you applied your concealer, telling the viewers exactly what brand it was and what it did for your skin.

“i’m pretty sure this is her favorite product.”

“okay! next she’s gonna set with this one powder that she absolutely loves.” he giggled.

you chuckle at his excitement, not expecting him to like this as much as he did. you just knew people would want more of him narrating your routines and grwms.

“and now, she’s putting on her blush.. I love this part.” he said, mesmerized by you and your features.

“isn’t she so pretty?”

⊹ 𝓎𝑗𝑤．

he’s so confused

tbh he just yaps the whole time

you don’t know what he’s talking about, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about..

he just knows that he buys some of the stuff

he gives random facts throughout the video ??

“okay, so i’m not really sure of what she’s putting on her face right now..” he said, scratching his head slightly.

“did you guys know that dolphins name each other?”

“jungwon..?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at him confusingly.

“oh, right! sorry, now she’s applying some.. nose.. stuff?”

you mentally face palmed at his attempt to name the products, which he ended up wrong every time.

“if it wasn’t already obvious, i know none of these things, i just get whatever she tells me to buy.” jungwon giggled, watching you apply your blush.

please DO NOT let him do this ever again 😭🙏🏽

⊹ 𝓃𝑟𝑘．

bro does NOT wanna be here

he doesn’t wanna do it at all 😭

but somehow you convince him (you told him you’d buy him robux)

he guesses everything

some of it he gets right somehow

gets so triggered when you laugh at him 😭

“um, okay, she’s applying concealer.. that’s concealer, right?” he looked over at you, as the video showed you applying the product.

you looked at him, giggling.

“why are you laughing? is that not concealer?” he asked again, becoming irritated.

“yes.. just keep going, ki.” you cover up your laughs.

he rolls his eyes playfully, “anyways, now she’s putting on some powder shit.. i don’t know.”

“and she’s.. beating it on her face..? why are you punching yourself?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you shake your head, sighing at his confusion.

✿

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

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odoraful · 2 months

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

wanderer would prefer not to be stopped on his way home, especially when he's had a hard few days

content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; 'kuni' nickname; pure fluff; just wanderer lowkey being a pathetic lover boy for you; 1.9k words

a/n: nothing else to say here besides i had a lot of fun writing this !! pls enjoy clingy wanderer !!

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“Hat Guy! Do yo-”

“Nope.”

Wanderer deadpanned, not even sparing a look at the scholar who addressed him as he walked past. It was at this point where most people would give up. Students of the Akademiya found that you had to catch the snarky scholar on a good day to strike up a casual conversation with him outside of the classroom. Unfortunately, this person was tenacious enough to not even let such an outright rejection faze him. Wanderer walked faster, only for his peer to match his stride.

“Hold on!” They cried out, slightly breathless from having to speed up. “You’re really not going to let me finish what I’m saying first?”

Wanderer scoffed. “What gave you that impression? My visible irritation? Or the fact that I’m actively trying to outpace you?”

“Hey! You don’t have to be so rude…” They frowned, voice trailing off in disappointment.

Finally giving the person a side-eyed glance, he recognised them to be a fellow Vahumana scholar named Mir. Whilst Wanderer could acknowledge Mir’s intelligence, he was far too soft-hearted for how stubborn he was. At that deflated comment, Wanderer stopped dead in his tracks. Mir wobbled, skidding on his feet to stop as well.

He considered using his flying abilities to leave Mir in the dust. However, this plan was only a fleeting thought as he recalled a stern meeting he had with staff at the Akademiya. They scolded that he wasn’t allowed to use his powers to avoid interaction with his peers. Something about misconduct and lacking etiquette that Wanderer half-remembered, choosing to nod along rather than actually listen to the prattle from the professors.

“Mir.”

He perked up. Wanderer could see his self-esteem reassemble at the mere fact that his name was remembered.

“What do you want?” Wanderer seethed, each word punctuated through gritted teeth.

If Mir felt intimidated at all by Wanderer’s ire, it showed little on his face. He only brightened further, seizing his chance to speak.

“I wanted to see whether you wanted to go to a social event later tonight at Lambad’s! There’ll be free drinks and food, and it’s really just a friendly get together to boost morale. It’s meant to be for us Vahumana scholars to catch each other up on the work we’re doing, and on what’s been going on in our lives,” he rambled.

What could simply be said in a few words Mir incredibly managed to do in multiple sentences. Wanderer let out a loud sigh.

“Mir,” he began, folding his arms. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve just returned from a long and arduous trip from the desert where you’ve used all your energy up to explore ruins. Would you want to spend what little time off you have for the day going to a crowded tavern with people you only barely know?”

Mir stuttered. It was the most Wanderer had spoken to him in one go.

“W-well, that’s a good question! I guess it depends on what kind of-”

“Just answer it.”

Wanderer interrupted, dismissing Mir’s frivolous technicalities with a wave of his hand.

“Alright! Probably not! I’d just want to go home and relax.”

“And there it is,” Wanderer opened his arms wide, like a magician revealing their latest trick, “my response to your invitation.”

He turned smoothly on his heel and walked off. Mir opened his mouth to protest, but none came out. He stood there slack-jawed at his own words being used against him. Fortunately, he didn’t follow any longer.

Wanderer would probably short circuit if he bumped into anyone else right now. What he had told Mir was the truth. He was on his way home from the Akademiya just after returning from a 2 day trip in the desert. He would have enjoyed the expedition far more if his professor hadn’t dragged him out on such short notice. Most likely, she had seen that his schedule wasn’t as busy for the next few days and roped him into a project of ‘great academic importance’. Time that would have been spent doing whatever he wanted to at home had been replaced by sweltering weathers and endless scribing of ancient tomes.

Fate was a truly cruel force. Especially so when it separated him from you without warning. At the thought of his partner, he recalled how he announced his departure. He had to leave that same day, and you had already left for work, so he scrawled a note and left it on the table for you to look at when you returned.

My professor has taken me on an research expedition last minute. I’ll be back in 2 days time. I’ll make it up to you.

Kuni.

Perhaps he would come back to see the same annoyance he had when dealing with Mir on your face at such a lukewarm message.

There was an inexplicable weight in his body when he walked. A dragging emotion that humans would probably label as tiredness. He needed to get home and fast. If he did arrive to a grumpy partner, he wouldn’t mind it. You were the only person who was actually worth dealing with in his eyes.

He looked around. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, and there were only a few people mingling around the street he was on. Perfect. It was empty enough for him to not cause a spectacle. Wind kicked up around him as he swiftly launched upwards, flying high above roofs. This would certainly cut his commute time in half. Quietly, he navigated the familiar streets towards home.

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Dots of yellow emerged below from hanging lamps across the city. The residents of Sumeru were preparing for the night, whether in revelry or idleness. The latter suited you more, as you began to unwind from a day of work and waited for Wanderer to arrive. The news that he needed to leave had surprised and saddened you a little. You were looking forward to spending more time with him over these few days when he wasn’t so busy with classes. If he kept to the words he wrote on that note, however, he would somehow make it up to you.

You held onto that hope as you folded clothes to be put away in the bedroom. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice movement outside as Wanderer approached the window on the second storey. Putting his face closer to the stained glass, your figure was rendered in an orange hue as he peered in. He tapped against the window with a finger.

You jumped with a yelp, turning towards the source of the disruption.

Honestly, you would have welcomed his arrival more warmly if the sight before you wasn’t so unexpected. Now, you couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. Your boyfriend was hovering outside your bedroom window, staring at you like a rain-soaked cat waiting to be let inside.

You hurried towards the window, but didn’t reach out to open it just yet. Instead, you placed your hands on your hips, cocking your head to the side.

“We have a front door for a reason, you know.”

Even though your voice was muffled, he heard how you spoke in a sing-song manner.

“Well, I’m not at the front door now, am I?” He replied, matter-of-factly. “Mind opening up?”

Gesturing for him to step away a little, you unlatched the window and swung the glass outwards. Cool air immediately washed over your face, tickling your skin. He could hear the mild offense in your voice crystal clear now,

“I cannot believe this is how I’m being greeted after such a sudden departure-“

Your sentence cut off short as the wind got knocked out you.

Your boyfriend crashing into you mid-flight was a quick way to shut you up.

The force caused you to stumble back, falling to sit on the edge of the bed. Only then did the surprise settle in at what he was doing.

Wanderer had you in a tight hug.

Somewhat awkwardly, he was half-sitting in your lap, half-sitting on the bed. Shaking out of your stupor, you encircled your arms around his shoulders. Wanderer let his body fall limp, his feet now on solid ground. He buried his face in your neck.

“A-are you-”

“Don’t say a single word.” He said, voice low in warning. Though, the threat had little weight behind it with how he nuzzled into the hug.

Wanderer didn’t need to breathe to survive, but he had learned to inhale and exhale largely so that others wouldn’t gawk at him for his lack of breathing (he had honestly stopped doing it because of how bothersome it was to keep such a façade. However, after some convincing from Nahida about the necessity to get along with his peers, he begrudgingly adopted the habit once again). For you, it served another purpose. Clearly something or someone had riled him up earlier because his breathing had initially been huffed and short. Now, as he settled against your body, you felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, breaths slow and intentional.

“It’s only been 2 days, Kuni,” you pointed out with a soft chuckle.

His violet hair tickled your skin as he shifted his head, propping his chin up on your shoulder. Perhaps it was intentional that he kept his face out of your line of sight.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you haven’t seen me in months?”

Wanderer scoffed loudly. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

It was a shame you couldn’t see his face, for the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in embarrassment at his own clinginess would’ve given you weeks of material to poke fun at him for.

“I think you do because I haven’t the faintest idea why you’re acting like this.”

There was no way he was falling for the fake, sugary innocence in your tone. You were an unstoppable force and he an immovable object. He chose to remain silent as you continued,

“Oh well, I guess I should go and finish folding these clothes if it’s nothing important.”

Abruptly, you removed your arms from him and went to stand. However, the grasp Wanderer had around your waist meant you could barely even move. Even bending over proved to be fruitless for you.

“Those chores can wait,” he muttered, interlocking his fingers together to hold you in place.

Despite knowing that you were messing with him, a small part of him was irritated that you even considered putting such a menial task above him.

You giggled at how touchy he was being. Your boyfriend could hardly come up with a word of affection without looking like he was going to combust, but would stop at nothing at the chance to hold you. You raised a hand to pat his head, smoothing his hair down. Every grievance he had over the past 2 days melted away with each pass of your hand. Archons, he even started to feel like he went a bit too harsh on Mir.

“Don’t worry,” Wanderer could hear the smile on your face as you began gently combing his hair between your fingertips. “I missed you too.”

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#odorawrites #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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driverlando · 11 days

Text

✧.* AFTER HOURS

synopsis - I'll risk it all for you, I want you next to me

before you continue: I’ve been working on this for the past month, so pls be nice! It’s a 6k-word bad boy/biker Lando x waitress (f!reader) set in the 50s. there’s a mix of romance, tension, and some smut (minors DNI!). excited to hear your thoughts—enjoy! xx

The neon sign above the diner hums softly, its pink and blue lights flickering in the darkened night like a beacon. It’s the only thing that seems alive at this hour, casting a soft glow on the otherwise empty street. You’ve been working at this place for a while now, long enough that the rhythms of the night shift feel second nature. The jukebox in the corner has long since stopped playing, the last notes of Elvis Presley’s latest hit fading into the air. The diner is quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes in the back or the low murmur of conversation from the last remaining patrons—a couple of old men nursing their black coffees.

You glance at the clock above the door, a wave of relief washing over you as you see it’s nearly the end of your shift. All you want is to get out of this uniform, go home, and maybe catch some sleep before the morning light creeps through your curtains. The night has a chill to it, the kind that seeps into your bones, reminding you that summer is fading fast.

The bell above the door jingles, and despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. You don’t even need to look up to know who it is; you can feel his presence like a shadow that lingers just out of sight. Lando Norris. The town’s resident bad boy, the one all the girls whisper about and the one your mother warned you to stay away from. He’s trouble in every sense of the word, and yet, you find it impossible to ignore the way the air seems to crackle when he’s around.

He’s been coming in every night for the past few weeks, always showing up right before your shift ends. You’ve tried not to pay him any mind, but it’s hard when he looks at you the way he does, with that cocky smirk that makes your stomach twist and your heart race.

Tonight, he’s wearing that same leather jacket, the one that makes him look even more dangerous. His hair is tousled, damp from the cool night air, and there’s a hint of rain on his skin. He strides in like he owns the place, but his eyes are on you the moment he steps through the door.

“Hey, doll,” he greets, his voice smooth, with that hint of something playful and teasing that always makes you bite back a smile.

“Lando,” you acknowledge, keeping your tone even as you wipe down the counter one last time. “You’re here late.”

He shrugs, sliding onto the stool right in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face. “Couldn’t stay away.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words make your pulse quicken. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Just a coffee,” he says, leaning back in his seat, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. “Unless you’ve got something a little more exciting to offer.”

You pour the coffee without responding, sliding the cup across the counter to him. “This is as exciting as it gets.”

He chuckles, taking the cup and lifting it to his lips. “You say that every time, sweetheart, but I know there’s more to you than you’re letting on.”

You ignore his comment, focusing instead on finishing up your closing tasks. But you can feel his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, and it won’t be the last, but tonight it feels different. There’s an electricity in the air, something that makes your skin prickle and your heart beat just a little faster.

“Why do you keep coming here, Lando?” you ask, more to break the silence than anything else.

He sets his cup down, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Why do you think?”

You meet his gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Because you’re bored?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “No, because I like seeing you. I like the way you pretend you’re not interested.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. You’ve been doing your best to keep your distance, to keep him at arm’s length, but he has a way of getting under your skin. Still, you can’t let him know that.

“My shift’s over,” you say, avoiding his eyes as you untie your apron and hang it up behind the counter. “You should go home.”

“So should you,” he says, his tone softening. “But not alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you grab your coat from the back. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

You don’t wait for his response, don’t even look back at him as you head for the door. You’ve made it clear that you’re not interested, even if that’s not entirely true. Lando is trouble, and you’ve worked too hard to stay out of it.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, the drizzle turning into a light mist that clings to your hair and clothes. The street is quiet, the only sound the distant hum of a car engine and the soft patter of rain on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you start walking down the street.

You’re halfway down the block when you hear it—the low, unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is, but you do anyway, your heart sinking slightly as you see Lando pulling up beside you on his sleek black motorcycle. His head is tilted slightly, that ever-present smirk still on his lips as he coasts along the sidewalk at your pace.

“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice barely audible over the engine.

“No,” you reply curtly, picking up your pace. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he calls after you. “It’s a long walk home, and it’s starting to rain.”

You ignore him, determined to keep walking. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, even if he already knows. But Lando isn’t one to give up easily.

You hear the motorcycle rev slightly as he pulls ahead of you, cutting off your path. You stop abruptly, your breath catching in your throat as he swings off the bike with a fluid grace that makes your heart skip a beat. He steps in front of you, blocking your way, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“Come on, doll,” he says, his voice low and coaxing. “Let me take you home.”

You shake your head, taking a step back, but the look in his eyes holds you in place. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you want to give in, to let go of all the reasons why this is a bad idea.

“I don’t need your help,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist. His touch is warm, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. “I know you don’t need it,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost tender. “But maybe you want it.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. The rain is starting to fall heavier now, droplets clinging to his hair and sliding down his face. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something raw and unguarded that makes it impossible to look away.

“Why do you care?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist, “you’re not like the others. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You want to resist, to tell him to leave you alone, but the words get caught in your throat. You can’t deny the pull you feel toward him, the way he makes you feel alive in a way that nothing else does. And before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can remind yourself of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you say softly.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he steps back, releasing your wrist. He gestures to the bike, and you hesitate for only a second before stepping forward. The rain is coming down in earnest now, the drops heavy and cold against your skin as you approach the motorcycle.

He hands you the spare helmet, and you take it, slipping it over your head. The leather seat is slick with rain as you swing your leg over the bike, your hands instinctively gripping his jacket as you settle behind him. The engine purrs beneath you, the vibrations humming through your body as he revs it slightly.

“You ready?” he asks, turning his head slightly to glance back at you.

You nod, though he can’t see it with the helmet on. “Yeah.”

With that, he kicks the bike into gear, and you’re off, the motorcycle roaring down the empty street, the rain whipping against your face. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the leather of his jacket as the world blurs around you. The cold night air bites at your skin, but there’s a thrill in it, a sense of freedom that you’ve never felt before.

Lando takes the turns with an ease that speaks of years of experience, the bike leaning just enough to make your heart race. The town flashes by in a blur of lights and shadows, and before you know it, you’re out on the open road, the city behind you.

He doesn’t take you home. Instead, he heads out of town, the road stretching out in front of you, the rain-soaked asphalt glistening in the dim light. The fields on either side of you are dark and endless, the occasional hedgerow or tree flashing by as Lando speeds along the wet road. The sound of the engine is a steady roar in your ears, a low thrum that seems to match the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You should be worried—he hasn’t said a word about where he’s taking you, and you’ve barely known him long enough to trust him with something like this. But there’s something exhilarating about the way he handles the bike, the confidence in his every move, that makes you feel strangely safe despite the reckless speed. It’s as if, for the first time in ages, you’re letting yourself go, allowing the night and the rain and the thrill of the ride to sweep you away.

The rain falls harder now, soaking through your coat and plastering your hair to your face beneath the helmet. The chill seeps into your bones, but it’s dulled by the heat radiating from Lando’s back, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold night air. You hold on tighter, pressing yourself closer to him as the bike hurtles down the road.

Finally, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, Lando begins to slow down. The road narrows, the trees growing thicker and closer together as you turn onto a smaller lane. The headlights cut through the darkness, revealing a small, secluded motel nestled at the edge of the woods. The sign above the door is old and faded, the neon flickering weakly, but the place looks clean and well-kept.

Lando pulls the bike into the gravel car park, coming to a stop near the entrance. The engine cuts off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain on the pavement and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. He dismounts first, holding the bike steady as you slide off the seat and remove your helmet.

You stand there for a moment, your heart still racing from the ride, the rain dripping off your clothes and pooling around your feet. You look at Lando, trying to gauge his expression, but his face is shadowed, unreadable in the dim light.

“Why here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches you with those intense eyes of his, like he’s trying to figure you out. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he gestures towards the motel. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

You hesitate, every logical part of your brain screaming at you to turn around and walk away. This is dangerous—Lando is dangerous, with his easy charm and his reckless ways. You’ve worked hard to keep your life steady, predictable, and bringing him into it is like inviting chaos. But something holds you back, something that refuses to let you walk away.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that mix of mischief and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. Or maybe it’s the thrill of doing something you know you shouldn’t, the excitement of stepping outside the lines you’ve drawn for yourself. Whatever it is, it makes you follow him without another word, the two of you walking side by side towards the motel entrance.

The lobby is small and cosy, the kind of place that hasn’t changed much since it was built, probably a couple of decades ago. The man behind the counter barely glances up as Lando approaches, just slides a key across the counter with a bored expression. It’s clear he’s seen this kind of thing before—young couples looking for a place to escape for the night, away from prying eyes and small-town gossip.

You feel a flutter of nerves as Lando takes the key and leads you down a narrow hallway to one of the rooms. The door creaks slightly as he pushes it open, revealing a modest space with a double bed, a small table with a couple of chairs, and a dresser with a mirror above it. It’s not much, but it’s clean and dry, and after the cold rain outside, it feels almost inviting.

Lando steps inside first, holding the door open for you. You hesitate again, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts—about what you’re doing, what this means, what will happen next. But then you meet his eyes, and all those thoughts seem to scatter like leaves in the wind. There’s something in his gaze that’s both tender and intense, a look that makes your heart pound and your resolve crumble.

You step inside, and the door clicks shut behind you, sealing you both inside the small, warm room. The sound is final, like a decision being made, a line being crossed. Lando turns to face you, his expression unreadable as he watches you standing there, rain-soaked and shivering slightly in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the way he usually speaks.

You nod, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s true. Your heart is racing, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—fear, excitement, anticipation—all tangled together in a way that makes it hard to breathe. But you don’t want to back out now, not after everything that’s led you here.

Lando steps closer, his hands coming up to gently brush your wet hair away from your face. His touch is warm and soft, a tenderness you hadn’t expected. His eyes search yours, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, any reason to stop.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “But I want to.”

It’s the truth, or at least part of it. You’re scared, yes, but you’re also drawn to him in a way you can’t explain. There’s something about Lando that calls to the part of you that’s been buried for so long, the part that craves something more than the quiet, predictable life you’ve built for yourself.

He studies you for a moment longer, as if making sure you really mean it, then nods slightly. His hand slips down to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you further into the room. There’s a gentleness in his movements, a care that surprises you, considering his usual devil-may-care attitude.

The rain drums steadily against the window, a constant rhythm that fills the silence between you. Lando’s hand leaves yours as he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the chairs before turning his attention back to you. You feel a nervous flutter in your stomach as he steps closer, but it’s mingled with anticipation, a thrill that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. You’re hyper-aware of every movement, every touch, the way his fingers brush against your skin as he helps you out of your wet clothes. There’s an intimacy to it, a quiet care that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You stand there in just your undergarments, the cold air of the room making you shiver, but Lando’s eyes are warm as they trail over you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite name. He takes a step back, his hand reaching out to gently take yours again.

“Come here,” he murmurs, leading you towards the bed.

You follow him, your heart pounding in your chest, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. This is happening. You’re here, with him, in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, about to cross a line you’ve never crossed before. But there’s no fear, only a deep sense of rightness, like this is where you’re meant to be, in this moment, with him.

Lando sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you gently towards him until you’re standing between his knees. His hands slide up your thighs, resting on your hips as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of emotion. He’s always been confident, always in control, but now there’s a vulnerability in his gaze, a quiet question he’s asking without words.

You answer by leaning down, your hands cupping his face as you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if you’re both testing the waters. But it quickly deepens, a hunger igniting between you that has been simmering for weeks. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in the heat of the moment. His hands are everywhere, exploring your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished, like you’re something precious. It’s intense and overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Time seems to lose meaning as you lose yourselves in each other, the night stretching out as if it were infinite. The rain outside creates a soothing, rhythmic backdrop to your passion, a comforting contrast to the fire burning between you.

Lando’s kisses are insistent, devouring, yet he moves with care, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His touch, though firm, is never rough, always just right, and you melt into him, feeling like you’re discovering parts of yourself you never knew existed. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds himself back slightly, as though he’s afraid of rushing, afraid of breaking whatever fragile connection has formed between you.

Your fingers slide through his damp hair, tugging slightly, and a low groan escapes his lips. It sends a thrill through you, emboldening you to press closer, your body flush against his. He shifts, pulling you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. The sensation of being held by him, feeling his strength beneath your touch, is intoxicating.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. His breath comes in short, sharp bursts, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks up at you, eyes dark with desire but softened by something more—something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint, the words a mere whisper in the small space between you.

You nod, not trusting your voice to convey the depth of your certainty. There’s no room for doubt in your mind. Being with him, here, now, feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment. For him.

He studies your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he finds none, his expression shifts from questioning to resolute. His hands, which had been resting on your hips, slide up your back, pulling you even closer as he captures your lips again. This kiss is different, filled with the unspoken promise of what’s to come, a promise that you’re both eager to fulfil.

Without breaking the kiss, Lando shifts his weight, turning and laying you gently on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he hovers over you, his gaze never leaving yours. There’s a moment of stillness, a shared breath, and then he’s kissing you again, his hands roaming your body with a purpose that makes you shiver in anticipation.

Every touch, every caress, is like a match struck against stone, igniting a flame that consumes you both. He moves with a slow, deliberate pace, savouring each moment, each gasp and sigh that escapes your lips. It’s as if he wants to remember every second, to carve this night into his memory as something sacred.

The room is warm, the heat from your bodies chasing away the chill of the night. Your hands map out the contours of his muscles, the smooth lines of his body, as you pull him closer, wanting more of him, needing to feel him everywhere. He responds in kind, his lips trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, as if he’s worshipping every inch of you.

When he finally moves to remove the last barriers between you, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. It’s a natural progression, a culmination of everything that’s been building between you since the first time he walked into the diner and looked at you with those piercing eyes. There’s a shared understanding, an unspoken agreement that this is where you were always meant to end up—together.

The first moment of true connection is almost overwhelming in its intensity. It’s more than just physical; it’s as if every wall you’ve ever built around yourself crumbles in an instant, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, but not afraid. There’s no fear, only a deep, bone-deep sense of rightness, of finally finding the place where you belong.

Lando moves with a rhythm that’s both tender and powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you that build and build until you think you might shatter from the sheer force of it. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, a plea, and he answers with a low, guttural groan that reverberates through your entire being.

The world narrows down to the two of you, the feel of him inside you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters. Time loses all meaning as you’re swept away by the tidal wave of sensation, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, a dance as old as time itself.

When the wave finally crashes over you, it’s with a force that leaves you breathless, clinging to him as the pleasure shudders through you, leaving you trembling in its wake. He follows soon after, his body tensing, his breath hot against your skin as he finds his own release. The feeling of him coming undone with you, because of you, is almost too much to bear.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still entwined, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. The only sounds are the rain tapping lightly against the window and the soft, shared breaths filling the space between you. Lando’s weight is comforting, grounding, and you don’t want him to move, don’t want this moment to end.

He lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching yours, as if he’s looking for reassurance that you’re still here with him, that this wasn’t some fleeting dream. You offer him a small, tired smile, your fingers brushing through his sweat-dampened hair.

“That was…” he starts, but trails off, seemingly at a loss for words.

You understand, though. You feel it too—this connection, this sense of something more between you. It’s more than just a one-time thing; it’s like you’ve found something precious, something you weren’t even sure you were looking for.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “It was.”

He smiles then, a genuine smile that lights up his whole face, making him look almost boyish in his joy. It’s a smile that makes your heart skip a beat, that fills you with warmth and hope.

Lando rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so that you’re curled up against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You can feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a sense of peace.

For a while, you just lie there, basking in the afterglow, the silence between you comfortable and easy. The storm outside seems to have calmed, the rain now a gentle drizzle, almost soothing as it patters against the window.

But as the euphoria of the moment fades, reality starts to creep back in, bringing with it the questions and doubts that you’d managed to push aside in the heat of the moment. What happens now? What does this mean for you, for him, for the two of you together?

You shift slightly, tilting your head to look up at him. “Lando?”

He hums in response, his eyes closed, his face relaxed in a way you’ve rarely seen.

“What happens now?” you ask, your voice small, almost afraid to break the spell.

He opens his eyes, blinking down at you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe? But it’s quickly replaced by a look of determination, of resolve.

“Now,” he says, his voice firm but gentle, “we figure it out.”

You nod, wanting to believe him, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can. But the doubts are still there, lurking at the edges of your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask, needing to hear him say it, needing to know that this isn’t just a fleeting moment, that it means as much to him as it does to you.

He pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’m sure,” he says, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s something real. And I don’t want to lose it.”

The sincerity in his words, in his eyes, soothes the lingering doubts in your mind. You rest your head against his chest again, closing your eyes and letting his steady heartbeat calm you.

“Okay,” you whisper, a sense of peace settling over you.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, and you feel his smile against your hair.

You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, content in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside might be complicated, full of uncertainties and challenges, but in this room, in each other’s arms, there’s only warmth, safety, and the promise of something more.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the night catches up with you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep begins to pull you under. Lando’s presence is a comforting anchor, his arms around you a safe haven that you don’t want to leave. As you drift off, the last thing you’re aware of is the steady rhythm of his breathing, a lullaby that carries you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When you wake, it’s to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. For a moment, you’re disoriented, the events of the night before hazy and surreal in your sleep-fogged mind. But then you feel the warmth beside you, the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath your cheek, and everything comes rushing back.

You lift your head slightly, taking in the sight of him asleep beside you. His face is relaxed, peaceful in a way that makes him seem younger, almost boyish. The morning light softens his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his dark lashes fan out against his cheeks. He looks so different from the cocky, self-assured boy who strides into the diner every evening, his swaggering confidence replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart swelling with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. It’s strange, how quickly things have changed between you, how one night can alter the course of your life so drastically. But as you lie there, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you can’t find it in yourself to regret anything that’s happened.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him as you slip out of bed. The cool air of the room hits your bare skin, making you shiver as you pull on the discarded shirt from the night before. It smells faintly of him, a comforting scent that makes you smile as you button it up.

Quietly, you pad over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly to peer outside. The rain has stopped, leaving the world fresh and clean, the grass glistening with morning dew. The sky is a soft blue, streaked with the pink and gold of the rising sun. It’s a beautiful morning, the kind that makes everything seem possible, like the whole world is brimming with promise.

But as you stand there, the doubts start to creep back in. What happens now? The question lingers in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Last night was incredible, a perfect moment in time, but what about today? What about tomorrow? You and Lando come from such different worlds—how can this possibly work in the long run?

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him stir until his arms slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “What are you thinking about?”

You sigh, leaning back into his embrace. “Just… wondering what happens now.”

His hold tightens slightly, as if he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. “We talked about this last night, remember? We’ll figure it out.”

“I know, but…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “It’s just—everything’s so different in the daylight. Last night felt like a dream, like we were in our own little world. But now…” You trail off, unsure how to articulate the anxiety gnawing at you.

Lando is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he follows your gaze out the window. Finally, he turns you around to face him, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still here, and so are you. We can make this work.”

“But how?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “We barely know each other. What if… what if this doesn’t last? What if it all falls apart?”

He studies you for a moment, his expression serious. “Do you really believe that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work. I don’t want to lose… whatever this is.”

He sighs, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I’m scared too, if I’m honest. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. But that’s why we have to try, yeah? Because it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, makes your heart skip a beat. He’s right, of course. You know he is. You’ve spent so much time playing it safe, keeping yourself hidden away, that the idea of something real, something that could actually mean something, terrifies you. But it’s also what you’ve been longing for—someone to break through the walls you’ve built around yourself, to show you that there’s more to life than just getting by.

You take a deep breath, nodding slowly as you try to push past the fear. “Okay,” you say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

A slow, relieved smile spreads across his face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I’m not giving up on this. Not on you.”

His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, soothing the anxiety that’s been simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it won’t be easy, maybe there will be challenges you can’t even foresee yet, but standing here in his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the risk.

You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to hope. To believe that things might actually work out.

After a while, he gently nudges you towards the bed. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep,” he suggests, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

But you shake your head, smiling up at him. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” you say, feeling a strange surge of determination. “Let’s not waste it.”

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Always so practical,” he teases, though there’s a fondness in his tone that makes your heart flutter. “Alright, let’s get dressed. But I’m warning you, I’m taking you out for breakfast. Proper breakfast, not just coffee at the diner.”

The mention of the diner brings you back to reality, the thought of going back to your usual routine, of facing the world outside this room, suddenly feeling daunting. But Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes give you the courage you need to take that first step.

You both dress in comfortable silence, the weight of what’s to come hanging between you, but there’s no sense of dread, only a quiet resolve. Once you’re both ready, Lando grabs his jacket, offering you a lopsided grin as he swings it over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice light but his eyes serious.

You take a deep breath, nodding as you take his hand. “Ready.”

Together, you step out of the motel room, the morning sun casting long shadows on the gravel beneath your feet. The world outside feels different now, not quite as daunting, not quite as overwhelming. With Lando beside you, his hand warm in yours, you feel like you can face whatever comes your way.

As you walk towards the motorcycle, you glance up at him, a question forming in your mind. “So, where are we going?”

He grins, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious. “Another one of your surprises, huh? Should I be worried?”

“Nah,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Trust me, you’ll like this one.”

And strangely enough, you do trust him. Maybe that’s the most surprising thing of all—how quickly you’ve come to rely on him, to feel safe with him, even though he’s nothing like the kind of person you’d ever imagined yourself with.

But life has a funny way of surprising you, of taking you down paths you never expected. And as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle, wrapping your arms around his waist, you realise that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found exactly what you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The engine roars to life beneath you, and with a thrill of anticipation, you hold on tight as Lando pulls out of the car park and onto the open road. The wind rushes past, the world blurring around you, but you don’t feel lost anymore. You’re heading into the unknown, yes, but you’re not alone.

As you ride through the countryside, the morning sun rising higher in the sky, casting everything in a golden light, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever comes next, whatever challenges you face, you know you’ll figure it out—together.

And that, you think, might just be enough.

Lando’s voice cuts through the wind, loud enough for you to hear over the roar of the engine. “You alright back there?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on his shoulder, and smile. “I’m perfect.”

He laughs, a sound that’s full of life, full of promise, and you feel it resonate deep within you. This is just the beginning, you realise. The start of something new, something real. Something that could change everything.

As the miles stretch out before you, the road winding through the countryside, you hold on tight to Lando, to the future that’s waiting for you just beyond the horizon. It’s a future you never expected, with a boy you never imagined would mean so much to you.

But it’s yours now, and you’re ready to embrace it with open arms.

The open road lies ahead, and with Lando by your side, you’re finally ready to see where it leads.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris fluff #formula one x reader

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gothgoblinbabe · 25 days

Text

Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You

Chapter (2/2):

Logan Howlett x afab reader

A/N: I finally finished part 2 and this bitch is long as hell , I’m so sorry but I got real into it and I hope it’s as well received as the first part (thank u btw you guys are so sweet)

Warnings: smut, like really nasty gross freaky shit so minors dni, friends to lovers, swearing, unprotected sex (pls don’t do that), praise kink kind of, sub!Logan a lil’ bit and he absolutely has a pain kink, and the one bed trope yesssiirrrr

Word count: 6K (I told you she’s long asf)

Tags: @annagraceevanss

pt 1

text divider credit

You followed close behind Logan as you made your way to your shared room. When he unlocked the door and you both stepped in, you dropped your bags to one side of the bed and took a second to look around the room.

“It’s not too bad in here. Surprisingly clean,” you commented, moving some of the bedding around to check for any critters.

“Yeah. How’s your bug check going?” Logan joked, putting down his bag.

“All clear, looks fine to me,” you said, tucking the sheets back in and fixing the duvet.

You both got settled in silence for a minute before Logan spoke again, pulling articles of clothing out of his bag.

“I’m gonna take a shower, you wanna go first?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to answer the question and not dwell on the idea that he’d be naked in the next room.

“Uh, it’s - that’s fine, you can go first,” you managed to stutter out, dropping your head to your hands when he slid into the bathroom and closed the door. He had to know something was up by now with how strange you felt you acted around him, always blushing and hiding your face and giggling like a little kid.

You heard the squeak of the shower knob and the running water beating against the tiles, only making your wandering thoughts worse. There had to be something in here to do other than think about your friend naked.

Friend, right?

You huffed and stood from your spot sitting on the bed, picking up your bag from the floor and setting it where you had just been. You rifled through until you found sweatpants, underwear, socks, and…no shirt, because you’d forgotten to pack one.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, looking down at the one you were wearing now. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wear it to bed - it was just a cotton t-shirt - but you’d been wearing it all day and didn’t particularly want to sweat in it all night either.

You waited patiently for Logan to finish in the bathroom after that, sitting up against the headboard with a book in hand. You’d been so immersed in the pages in front of you and the unfamiliar but peaceful silence that you nearly jumped at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Logan stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, his still-wet hair dripping onto his shoulders and back. You knew he was very muscular, that had always been obvious, but this was the first time you’d actually seen him like that and you’d already pulled your book up to cover the quickly reddening lower half of your face.

He’d caught you looking almost immediately, your eyes scanning all the way from his broad shoulders to the start of the white towel around him. You were really terrible at being subtle at this point.

“What, like what you see, princess?” He teased, amused to see your eyes grow wide for a split second before you feigned annoyance.

“Yeah, right, you wish,” you rolled your eyes, pretending now to be completely invested in your book even though you weren’t able to read a single word since he’d walked out of the bathroom.

“Sometimes,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, his back turned to you as he picked up his clothes.

You looked up for a moment, narrowing your eyes.

“Huh?”

“Hm?”

“Did you say something?”

He thought for a second, considering whether or not this was a moment to be truthful.

“Nope.”

So, no, it wasn’t.

With that, he made his way back into the bathroom to change and was out again in minutes.

“It’s all yours,” he gestured to the bathroom, settling himself down onto one side of the bed and locking his hands behind his head. He was wearing his normal white beater and a pair of gray sweatpants with the academy’s logo printed on it somewhere. Jesus, you practically had to shut your eyes completely to look away from him. You’d never physically been that close before and it nearly drove you insane.

“Mhm,” you finally hummed in response, much too overwhelmed with that fact that he was so close and smelled so good.

You grabbed your clothes and went in, pulling the shower curtain back and turning the knob on the wall. You undressed, cleaned yourself up in the shower and stepped out, shivering from the contrast of the warm water and the cool air. You began to dress and remembered a critical detail.

Still don’t have a shirt.

You picked up your towel and tucked it around your chest, covering your bare upper half. You opened the bathroom door just a creak, enough to lean yourself out.

“Hey, Logan.”

He’d been staring at the ceiling in thought but he looked to you when you spoke, clearing his throat when he saw your bare shoulders. Your skin looked so soft and he could almost imagine what it felt like, warm up against him.

“Yeah?” He finally responded.

“Would you maybe have a shirt I could borrow for the night? I thought I packed one, but I didn't.”

“Yeah, probably,” he answered without a second thought, moving to look through his bag once again. He tossed a flannel button down in your direction and you caught it with one hand, the other holding the towel around you. When you slipped back behind the door once again, you pulled the garment over your shoulders and buttoned it, leaving you in that and a pair of pajama shorts that you could barely see peeking from the bottom hem of the shirt. You brought the collar of the shirt up to your nose, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and body wash. God, this was torture.

When you’d left the bathroom, Logan’s eyes were glued to the way the shirt fell so loosely on your smaller frame, the rolled up sleeves still long enough to reach your wrist. He caught himself smiling while he watched you move around the room to look for something.

“What?” you finally spoke, able to feel his eyes on the back of your head.

“Nothin’,” he said lowly, “just…you look cute in that. I didn’t think it would be so big on you that you're swimmin’ in it.”

You could hear the slight chuckle he’d let out after and your face felt warm. You turned away from your bag to face him, hands now full with skincare products.

“The hell do you do with all that?” Logan changed the subject, much to your relief.

“It’s my skin care routine.”

“Routine?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you just use, like, soap or something?”

The look on your face was one of horror and you returned to the bathroom and laid out all of your products. You saw Logan appear in the doorway from your view in the mirror, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What, you wanna watch?”

You didn’t mean it in any other way but he couldn’t help how much he liked the way you asked that, always teasing.

“I don’t know, you gonna put on a show?”

The back and forth between you two was fun, maybe sometimes a little mean but it had never been so flirty before.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut, silence settling between you again as he watched your every move from the doorway. He had an expression you found almost unreadable, his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his eyes looking almost tired. After the moment in the truck, you’d told yourself you would never dig in his mind again, at least for the remainder of the trip.

Still, curiosity was a monster that overtook the best of you sometimes.

You could see the visual of you, again, only this time it was from his perspective in the doorway.

He was thinking of you, but it couldn’t mean much of anything. Of course he’s thinking of you, you’re right in front of him.

It didn’t mean much of anything at all until you could see his imagination start to work itself up, able to see his hands slip underneath that flannel and grip your hips as he crowded you from behind.

You were so glad at that moment that you were scrubbing cleanser into your face with your eyes closed, unable to look Logan in the eyes while he was thinking about dragging his hands up your bare sides.

You pulled yourself out of that and focused back onto the task at hand, rinsing and drying your face. When you finally did open your eyes again, he was stood closer to the counter, inspecting all the labels on the little containers and bottles. You did your best not to look at him, afraid your face would be far too telling.

“What the hell is this gooey shit?”

You watched Logan open a jar and dip a finger in, cringing at the consistency. You sighed and grabbed it from his hands, setting it back down on the counter. Well, you had wanted to avoid looking at him, but he made that as hard as possible.

“It’s a face mask.”

He picked the jar back up again, taking a whiff of the contents. His eyebrows furrowed and he did it again, as if trying to place the scent.

“It smells like strawberries.”

“Mhm, it’s a strawberry face mask.”

You gently took it from his hands once more, this time with the intention of actually using it.

“So, you, like, leave it on or what? Rinse it?” He questioned, leaning with his back against the counter as he watched you spread the mask onto your face.

“I leave it on for fifteen minutes-ish and then rinse it,” you responded, screwing the lid back onto the container. Logan’s eyes followed the movement and stayed focused on the jar.

“Do you want some?” You smiled a little, aware of his curiosity, “I can put a lil’ bit on you. Avoiding the beard, of course.”

He shrugged in his sincere attempt to seem nonchalant, but he felt warm inside at the thought of your small hands smearing that stupid pink stuff all on his face. Really, it was just an excuse to get you to (rather innocently) touch him.

You unscrewed the cap again, looking up at him. He realized the reason for your hesitation and leaned himself down a little so you could reach his face with ease.

“Thank you,” you giggled, stomach turning a bit at how close his face was now. You started to apply the mask, his eyes focused on yours almost the entire time. Every time you’d move your hand, still, his eyes were focused on the shadow of your eyelashes or the color of your lips. It felt oddly intimate, having him lean down just for you to touch his face.

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, referring to his gaze.

“Well, yeah, actually.”

That made the both of you laugh, pink faces mirroring each others love-sick smiles.

“Alright, done,” you declared, finally setting the jar down for good.

At that, you both got a look at yourselves in the mirror and burst back into laughter. Something about your laugh was contagious, and having found the same about him, it was hard to stop once you’d start.

“Oh, I should’ve given you a headband so your hair doesn’t get in it,” You remembered when you’d finally caught your breath, “hold on.”

In less than a couple seconds you disappeared from the bathroom and came back, a headband in your grip, though Logan couldn’t actually see what it looked like. He let you slip it on his head anyway, his smile dropping to a feigned scowl when he got a look in the mirror at the cat ears that stuck up from either side.

“You don’t like it, kitty?”

You were laughing and he shook his head, taking another look at his reflection, “the things I do for you, girl…”

He kept the thing on anyway, following you to crash on the bed and watch some tv while you waited to rinse your faces. You flipped through a couple of channels and settled on some drama series just to kill time.

While you did that, Logan couldn’t rip his eyes from you every few minutes; the way the shirt fit, your bare legs, the fact that he could see now from where he sat that you weren’t wearing a bra under his shirt. It was almost too much and he found himself gnawing at his lip again.

When you’d rinsed your faces and gotten ready for bed, the time came for you both to decide how the sleeping arrangement was gonna work.

“So, maybe, like, a pillow wall?”

Your raised your eyebrows at Logan’s suggestion, the both of you stood facing the end of the bed.

“What, you think I’m gonna spoon you in your sleep?”

“I mean, with me in the same bed? I don’t think you could help yourself, bub,” he teased, feigning confidence to disguise the fact that it was probably him who would be the one to end up spooning you.

“Yeah, I’m just dying to rip your clothes off,” you said sarcastically, shaking your head and deciding to just tuck yourself in on a side and call it a night. You sighed into the mattress when you landed on it, terribly aware of how much you now really were dying to indeed rip his clothes off.

He followed suit, laying next to you and clicking the flimsy lamp on the bedside table so that you were both in the dark. You were both turned from each other, backs almost touching with how close you had to lay. You watched the tree branches from outside cast shadows on the wall in the moonlight, too lost in thought to close your eyes.

Just because Logan was thinking about you in ways that friends don’t really think about each other doesn’t mean he likes you in that way, you’d told yourself. It was not the same as an outright confession - you’d been poking around where you shouldn’t have - but it still stood at the front of your mind, nonetheless.

You pulled the comforter up to your chin, tucking it around you as much as you could. It was cold in the room, something you both only noticed the longer you’d been there. You didn’t even realize you were shivering until you heard Logan’s voice say your name softly.

“You cold?”

He was already turning himself towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Very. Is the heat broken?”

He stood up and shuffled to the knob on the wall for the temperature. Fiddling with it for a second in the low light, he sighed and situated himself back into bed.

“I think it is. It’s the highest it can go and it’s freezing in here.”

You turned your face into your pillow and groaned.

“Put on some extra clothes,” he offered his suggestion, pulling the blanket up over himself as well.

“I don’t have any, that’s why I had to borrow yours,” you reminded him, turning back to finally look at him again.

He knew it wasn’t a smart idea that had crossed his mind but Logan spoke anyway.

“C’mere,” he lifted his arms under the blanket and made room for you in front of him.

You looked at him, then the spot he wanted you to lay, and back to him again.

“Oh, so you’re the one dying to rip my clothes off, I see,” you teased and he shook his head.

“Princess, you can take it or leave it, but you know you’ll freeze,” he pointed out, a cocky smile now adorning his face.

Princess. That was new.

You studied him intently for a second before eventually giving in, situating yourself to be the little spoon as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held your back to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against you, the inhale and exhale of his lungs, the way his skin was so damn warm even in a freezing cold room.

“That better?”

His voice was inches from your ear and you couldn’t help the shiver it sent down your spine, something you prayed he would believe was from the cold. You nodded, hesitantly resting your hands and arms over his. You would’ve hated to admit it, but it was so nice to just be held again.

“Can I ask you something? And I mean, you can tell me to fuck off,” Logan spoke lowly, afraid he was trying to tip toe around land mines.

You remained quiet but nodded for him to continue, absentmindedly tracing little shapes with your fingers onto his arm.

“What happened with that Danny kid?”

You were surpised to hear his name at all, nevermind in Logan’s dismissive tone. Even the way he called him ‘kid’ seemed mildly condescending to your ex-boyfriend , acting like even saying his name was an annoyance.

“Well, I can give you the short and sweet version,” you began your response, turning your head a little to look back at him. Christ, he had definitely never been this close.

“Shoot,” he responded, loosening his grip on you a bit so he could lean back and look at you when you spoke, really look at you. There were many things to like about Logan, but his ability to give you his undivided attention as you spoke was among your favorite things about him. You hadn’t caught on, of course, that he only really did that with you.

You sighed, drawing in a long breath and trying your best to spit out the story. It wasn’t a fresh wound but every time you tried to come clean about it was like salt being rubbed in.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know,” he spoke again honestly, noticing how quickly your demeanor changed.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you began gnawing at your lower lip, “He…we went out one night with everybody, probably only a couple weeks before you came back here. It was fun, except for the moments where our waitress would come by.”

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. It was almost funny now.

Logan waited patiently for you to continue, already suspecting what you were about to tell him.

“Every time she came to the table, he wouldn’t even look at me, like I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it but Ororo told me she saw him slip a piece of paper into her apron, I guess it must have been his number.”

He could hear your voice begin to break and he held you a little tighter, reaching a hand to stroke your hair.

“He’s a dick,” he added, scowling.

“Yeah, but oh, man, does it get worse. I’m trying to call him one night when he hasn’t come back, basically blowing up his phone to be sure he’s alive, right?”

He nodded, already mesmerized with the way you told stories, no matter what about.

“About the fourth or fifth time I call, it’s finally picked up, except Danny isn’t on the other end. I recognized the waitress’s voice. I knew then, you know, what had happened but I just didn’t want to believe it, so I asked what the hell she was doing with him. I shouldn’t have asked that. She did not hold back on dirty details.”

You tried your best to joke around but your voice still felt small, shrunken by the humiliation of having your heart ripped out of you. Love was fucking embarrassing at just about every stage, but especially if it didn’t work out like you’d hoped. It could make even the wisest man an absolute fool.

“I could smash that kid’s face, you know. I’m just sayin’.”

You broke into a giggle when Logan spoke, “I know. What, you’re gonna start some fight over me? You only hate him because I hate him.”

“Nah,” he began, arms still around you and his voice almost mumbled into your hair, “I hate him ‘cause he’s annoying as shit, but mostly because of what he did to you.”

“You know,” you started, wiping away a tear that had fallen on your cheek but still keeping a joking tone, “you’re probably the nicest boyfriend I’ve ever had and you’re not even my boyfriend.”

When he didn’t respond after a second, you turned your body a bit to look at him. His arm was propped up to support his head and he was staring down at you, looking lost in thought. You both stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like minutes rather than seconds.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, looking to the wall behind him, “that was - I probably made that weird.”

You chuckled nervously but he kept his relaxed expression, smiling slightly when he heard your laugh.

“No, you didn’t,” he said lowly, moving the hand he had around you to push some of your hair from your face.

Your heart was beating as fast as it possibly could and there was no way he could have missed it.

“If I’m the nicest, you must’ve dated some shit guys,” he added with a smirk, making you laugh.

“That is true,” you admitted, “but I mean it. You’re a sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” he responded almost immediately, shaking his head.

“You are,” you insisted, “you’re a big softie.”

“Only for you.”

You waited for him to break into a laugh, tell you he was sarcastic, but he only kept his eyes to yours with what looked like an almost adoring gaze.

“For me?”

Your voice came out almost as a whisper.

“Uh-huh. I’d do anything for you, you know.”

He only broke his eyes from yours to admire your features in the light from the moon. His voice practically made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your stomach was twisting and tying itself into knots already but when he moved his hand to cup your cheek, you could’ve melted right into his touch.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Logan’s words came out almost in an exhale, like a sigh of relief. Your mouth fell open a little in surprise and you raised your eyebrows.

“Me?”

“Who else would I be talking to right now, princess?”

You laughed a little, unable to stop your wide smile when he lovingly stroked his thumb across your cheek.

“I think you’re handsome.”

It came out quick and you bit your bottom lip to stop your smile, your face probably blushed like a rose.

You’d never seen Logan smile so wide.

“Really?”

“How come you sound so surprised? You’ve probably been told that millions of times in your life,” you said honestly.

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but I always wanted to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

You were still nervous as all hell. This was going somewhere, you just weren’t sure exactly where.

Your noses were maybe inches apart, so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

“I like you. I think about you…a lot.”

The things you’d seen Logan imagining flashed in your mind, feeding a fueling fire in the pit of your stomach.

You couldn’t let anything else happen if you weren’t honest.

“Do you…do you remember way earlier this morning, i was driving and you were lookin’ at me and I kept asking why?”

He nodded and furrowed his eyebrows a bit.

“And then, earlier in the bathroom, when I was washing my face…” you continued, taking a deep breath, “I really shouldn’t have, but I - I kind of got in your head a bit, just because I was curious -“

“You read my mind?”

You expected a furious tone, for him to roll over and never be nearly as close to you again, but none of that was happening. Instead, that stupid smug smile was still on his face.

“Yeah. Look, Logan, I’m really sorry -“

“What’d you see? ‘Cause if it was nothing interesting, I don’t think you’d be telling me.”

You swallowed hard.

“Well…do you remember what you were thinking about?”

You watched him take a second to think back, gears turning. His eyes widened when he seemed to remember exactly where it was he’d let his mind wander to when he was staring at you. A smile crept onto his face and he tucked his lower lip beneath his teeth.

“Maybe. Do you wanna remind me?” he muttered.

His touch on you felt hotter than ever, like it could burn.

“Was it something like this?” He spoke again before you could answer, moving his hand just under the hem of your shirt - his shirt, really - to ghost his fingers over your hip.

You inhaled sharply at the warm touch of his hand.

“L-Logan,” you stuttered as his hand finally did grip you, not hard, but enough to make your lower stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm? What, pretty girl?”

He knew every button of yours to push at this point. He seemed determined to make you just as desperate for him as he was for you.

His hand snaked up further to your waist, then around your back to bring you even closer to him.

You were still speechless, hesitantly moving your arms to wrap around his neck.

That was all he needed to finally press his lips to yours, tangling his hands in your hair to push you even further into him. It was sweet and soft, two words not often used to describe anything with Logan. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough of you, still - like you’d disappear the second it was over.

“Wanted you since I first saw you, you know that?” He finally broke the kiss to whisper against your lips.

“Me too,” you replied honestly, “I was just scared after all that shit I had to go through. I didn’t want to have to do it all over again.”

“You won’t,” he said quickly, sweetly kissing your forehead and cheek, “I’d never do any of that to you. Any guy who could is a damn moron.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the both of you lost in the color of each other's eyes.

“I want to treat you right, princess, like you deserve,” he spoke again, moving a strand of hair from your face.

You swallowed hard. He didn’t just want your body, he wanted you.

“Yeah?” was all you could mutter out, your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, “you need someone who can take care of you like he couldn’t. I think you want me to, with the way your heart is beating like crazy.”

He had such a smug smile on his face and yours was blushed with mild embarrassment. You totally forgot he was able to pick up things like that with his heightened senses.

“Well, how are you gonna take care of me?”,there was a teasing tone in your voice, one that was already making him half-hard in his gray sweatpants. Maybe it should’ve been embarrassing, but it didn’t take much from you at all for him to feel that way.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he exhaled, combing his fingers through your hair, “can I do that, baby?”

The nicknames he was using weren’t any help to extinguish the growing feeling in your lower stomach.

You nodded, breathing fast.

“Please, Logan - “ you begged, using your arms around his neck to pull him down even closer to you and reconnect your lips.

“Like it when you beg,” he muttered in between kissing you again, “like it when you say my name like that.”

With one arm around your back to hold you close, his other arm slowly inched up the hem of your shirt, up your stomach and right to the soft flesh of the bottom of your breast.

He was going to ask if it was alright to move any further, but before he could even break away to ask, your hand was over his, nudging it further up until he had a handful of you. You moaned into the kiss, giving perfect access to Logan to slip his tongue between your lips. His toying and pinching of your nipples was enough to have you already soaked through your panties and probably your pajamas shorts, too.

“Someone’s a little eager, huh?” He muttered into your jaw as he dragged his kisses down your neck.

You only hummed in response, too lost in the feeling of him licking and sucking at your neck to think of a retort.

Both his hands came around to the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?”

You nodded, immediately sitting up to let him lift the shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

“Fuck,” he choked out at the sight of your bare chest, wasting no time as he came down to suck and lick the newly exposed skin.

“Thought about this all the time,” he mumbled against your skin, “you’re more perfect than I imagined.”

You were still blushing at his praise, sinking into the feeling of him in all your senses. The sound of his voice, the way his lips tasted, how his hands dragged along your skin in a way that covered you in goosebumps - it was better than any kind of day dream you’d had about him.

“ You - ah”, you tried to speak, cut off by the feeling of Logan gripping your thighs to gently spread them apart, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the place you wanted them the most.

He planted kisses from your chest all the way down to the waistband of your shorts, looking up at you know with his arms hooked around your thighs.

Understanding exactly why he was there, you combed your fingers through his hair on either side of his head.

“”Eat me out,” you demanded boldly, confidence only growing when you saw Logan’s surprised eyes and mischievous smile, “please.”

“Oh, so Princess likes giving orders, huh?” He replied, absolutely spurred on by the way you took control for a second. He liked pulling moans out of you but the idea of you using him for your pleasure was undeniably hot and he’d let you if you asked him.

Logan hooked his fingers through your shorts and panties, catching a glimpse at the wet spot of fabric between your legs.

“Christ, you want me that bad? You’re soaked, honey,” he cooed, his hot breath fanning your lower stomach.

“Wanted you that bad for a while, “ you panted, “jus’ want you - only you.”

“You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he was smiling with his lower lip tucked beneath his teeth, finally using his grip on your shorts and panties to pull them down and throw them somewhere in one quick motion.

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped at the feeling of your wet heat being exposed, so warm that the air almost felt cold.

“Fuck,” Logan groaned, gaping at the soaked mess between your thighs,”I’ve been dreaming about the way your pussy tastes for weeks.”

His filthy words had you arching your back and pushing your hips towards him, desperate for some kind of relief. You finally felt him plant a wet, soft kiss onto your lips, using his thumbs to open them up and lick from your hole to your clit.

That had you moaning his name, chest heaving as he continued to flick his tongue and keep you on his face with the hold he had on your thighs.

He was lapping up every part of you he could get, burying his nose into your pussy when he slid his tongue to the entrance of your body.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your grip in his hair tightening, “Fuck, fuck -“

He hummed in satisfaction, sending vibrations through you that only made you squirm even more against his face.

You almost whined when he pulled his tongue out of you, changing into a loud moan when two of his fingers replaced his tongue. He continued sucking and licking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Every time he pushed them into you again, he curled his fingers to meet the spot within you that had you tugging his hair even harder. He growled when you did that, animalistic and desperate to make you fall apart for him.

“That feel good, Princess? Fuck - “ he mumbled against your pussy between working his mouth on you, “taste so fucking good.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from his face, watching the way his head bobbed and his nose pushed into you. His hair was a mess that you pushed back to look into his eyes. There was something that turned you on about his gaze unwavering from yours while he continued to fuck you with his fingers like you’ve never felt before. He increased the speed of his movements, his eyes never leaving your face. You were unable to control the noises he pulled out of you, chanting his name like a prayer as you felt your climax building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m - I’m -“, you tried to warn him.

“I know, baby. I can feel the way you’re squeezing my fingers. Come on, sweetheart, give it to me,” he groaned, desperate to have you cum into his mouth and on his face.

Within seconds of hearing his filthy encouragement, the tension in your stomach released and you squeezed your eyes shut, seeing stars as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

Starting to come down, you became sensitive and attempted to push Logan’s head away, only for him to latch his lips onto you again.

“I - ah, Logan, ‘s too - too much,” you gasped.

“One more, sweetheart. Think you got it in you?” His chin, mouth and tip of his nose were wet and shiny with your release. He ate you like a fucking animal, in the best way possible.

A choked noise came from your throat, your eyes trained on him with your eyebrows raised. You’d never had someone even attempt to make you finish more than once.

You nodded vigorously, Logan immediately burying his face back into your sensitive pussy. It was probably seconds before the familiar euphoria hit you again, moaning and gasping his name.

“Fuck, please let me do that all the time,” he huffed, licking his lips to savor the taste of you.

You nodded, sitting up and reaching for his beater to pull him up to you. He did as you wanted, kneeling between your legs and tugging the garment over his head and tossing it. You marveled at the sculpt of his body, running your hands up his arms, his chest, and down his abs.

“You sure you want this, pretty girl?”

He asked to be sure you were comfortable, of course, but you knew the double meaning of his question. Things wouldn’t be the same after this, they never could be again.

“I need you,” you whimpered, kissing down along his jaw.

He sighed softly, reluctantly moving off the bed momentarily to strip himself of his sweatpants and boxers.

Your mouth fell open a little at the sight of him, bigger than you’ve ever seen and already leaking from the tip.

“Shit, you’re huge,” you nervously chuckled, gnawing on your lip.

He smiled, crawling on the bed again to hover over you.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he cooed, kissing down your neck again, “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’ll go slow. You tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?”

You could’ve cried at the sweet tone of his voice if the position you were in wasn’t so vulgar. You nodded in agreement and watched him line himself up with your entrance, tentatively pushing the head of his cock into you. He sighed into your neck, grunting when you hooked your legs around his waist to push him further into you.

“Does that hurt?” He asked, coming up to look at your face.

Your eyes were squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed, your mouth open to let out small gasps and whimpers, “a little, but it’s good.”

That made his hips twitch and push further, stretching you out with a fulfilling sting.

“Ah - “ you choked out a noise as he filled you completely, bottoming out. You watched his eyes fluttered close and his nostrils flared like he was trying to hold back in fear of hurting you.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, your fingers finding a place in his hair again, “you fill me so good.”

“Never could’ve guessed you had such a filthy mouth, princess,” he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I never would’ve guessed you wanted my filthy mouth,” you retorted, your teasing smile wiped off your face when his pace suddenly quickened.

“I wanted that, wanted your pussy - “ he grunted, “you feel so much better than my fucking hand.”

That made you chuckle a bit, stopping when he lightly bit the soft skin on your neck.

“God, Logan,” you moaned, raking your fingernails down his back.

He groaned loudly at the feeling, his eyes really rolling back into his head.

“Mm, never would’ve guessed you had a thing for pain either, by the way,” you murmured into his ear.

“I’d let you do just about anything to me,” he confessed, his hot breath in your ear.

You tugged his hair again, admiring the way his face contorted in pleasure every time you did.

“You like that?” You bit your lip, smiling up at him.

His face became serious, eyes never leaving yours from above you as he pounded his hips into yours.

“Don’t go talking to me like, ‘s gonna make me finish way too early,” he huffed, looking down to watch the way he pulled back and disappeared into you.

“Really?” You thought for a moment, lowering your voice and keeping your eyes on his, “Come on, baby. Cum in me. You wanna see it drip out of me? Make a fucking mess - “

Your taunting was cut off when Logan leaned back on his knees, pulling your hips up with him so they were angled to meet him on his lap. He wasted no time pounding into you, filling the room with sounds of your grunting and moaning and the slap of skin on skin.

“You want it that bad? You’re gonna get it, sweetheart,” he groaned animalistically, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

You tilted your head back, nearly drooling at the way he drilled into you at a new angle.

“ ‘m gonna cum,“ you warned again, “Logan-“

“Come on, babe, I wanna feel it - wanna feel you cum on me,” he panted, gritting his teeth in an attempt to keep himself at the devastating pace.

In a couple more strokes, he had you nearly screaming his name, legs shaking around him as you felt the euphoric feeling wash over you. The feeling of you pulsing and clenching around him was enough to send Logan over the edge, leaning forward so he could kiss you as he spilled ropes of his cum inside of you.

You both laid still for a moment, catching your breath.

“That was…,” you paused, thinking of the right word to describe what had happened, “the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Logan moved his face from the crook of your neck, a wide smile on his face. His hair was a mess and his skin was sticky with sweat.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he sighed, gently moving to pull out of you.

“Wait - “ you gripped his shoulder gently, keeping him in place, “can you…can you stay. Inside me, I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows, obliging your request and peppering kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

“Whatever you want, princess. I don’t think I mind stayin’ anyway.”

You giggled sweetly, trying your best to fix his hair. A thought popped into your mind, one you hadn’t even considered before you and Logan had gotten in bed.

“Is this - like, a one time thing? Because - “

“God, no,” he shook his head, admiring your features, “I mean, unless you wanted it to be, I guess, but -

You mirrored his actions, “No, no - I want you. Definitely sure that I want you.”

He planted a kiss to your forehead, running his fingers through your hair, “can I tell you somethin’, beautiful?”

“Anything, of course.”

“There was another room with two beds.”

text divider credit

A/N: I hope that wasn't god awful bc I'm not great at smut writing but anyway hope u enjoyed <3 my requests are open so if there's anything you have an idea for lmk!

#wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett fic #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #wolverine smut

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reidrum · 1 month

Text

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction

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cvntluver444 · 1 month

Note

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

�� summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

#ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams tlou #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfics #ellie williams x femme #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #lesbian #lesbians

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onlyangel4 · 2 months

Text

cindy lou who. cs55. op81. SMAU. final part

request: Can you do a lando x reader or Carlos x reader based on the song Cindy Lou who by Sabrina Carpenter

in which carlos moves on but you couldn't. when you do move on you realise he didn't move on as much as you thought he had

warnings: angst. cursing. five year age gap with carlos. for this i am just pretending the the hungarian gp did not have all of its issue and it was a normal win for oscar, pls let me be delusional.

part one

y/ninsta posted a story tagging alexandrasaintmleux and charlesleclerc

written: happy anniversary to my favourite couple in the entire world. thank you for looking after me when things went to shit a year ago. i will never forget the kindness you both showed me. i love you both.

y/ninsta

written: celebrating love with my favourite people tonite!

f1updates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 150,321 others

f1updates: charles and alex are throwing party to celebrate their anniversary so of course the biggest advocate for their relationship y/n y/ln is in attendance. this is y/n's first time attending a driver based event since she broke up with carlos sainz just over a year ago. carlos and rebecca are also in attendance. awkward.

view all 10,902 comments

user1: go on y/n show him what he fumbled

user2: welcome back y/n the kids missed you

user3: she is so fucking hot

landonorris posted a story

written: third wheeling at an anniversary party. i am so fucking single.

f1wags

liked by user5, user6, user7 and 128,092 others

f1wags: carlos sainz and rebecca donaldson were pictured in a heating argument out in monaco. this comes a week after the entire grid met to celebrate charles and alex. sources said the couple looked solid then but now it is a very different story. rebecca and carlos have unfollowed each other on all social media and rebecca is no longer wearing her engagement ring.

view all 2,928 comments

user6: so there starts being runours about oscar and y/n and then this happens. umm.. suspicious

user5: y/n i stg if you go back to him i will track you down and kill you myself

user7: i hope to god that our y/n keeps her composure and leaves him in the past

f1wags

liked by user8, user9, user10 and 210,921 others

f1wags: our jaws are on the floor. y/n y/ln has arrived at the hungarian gp. she arrived alone but people did see her rush over to alexandra saint mleux. no one knows what garage y/n will be in. but here at f1wags we have our fingers crossed for mclaren.

view all 721 comments

user8: i swear to god if she is here with carlos. babe it has been over a year, forget about him

user9: y/noscar nation rise

user10: the fit oh my god wag y/n is so back

y/ninsta

liked by danielricciardo, fernandoalonso, alexandrasaintmleux and 912,321 others

tagged oscarpiastri

y/ninsta: guys my boyfriend just won his first gp and i am sobbing in mclaren hospitality. i love you with all my heart osc. you have made me so fucking proud my love.

view all 19,021 comments

oscarpiastri: i love you so much. you are the best lucky charm to ever exist

y/ninsta: stop, you'll make me cry again

danielricciardo: that's my boy

y/ninsta: no mine

fernandoalo_oficial: if this one hurts you like the other one did i will kill him

y/ninsta: i'll tell him that

alexandrasaintmleux: everyone say thank you alex and charles for introducing this couple

y/ninsta: thank you darling

oscarpiastri: thank you for introducing me to my girl

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casualhedonists · 10 months

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

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