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honeyhotteoks · 1 year ago

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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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serosblunt · 4 months ago

Text

Kiribaku x Reader: Miss You

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Kiribaku x (Gender-neutral) reader

Warnings: Snippets of spicier content, pre-NSFW, 18+

Description: Bakugo's out of town on a mission, Ejiriou decides to text him late at night.

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12:46am

The numbers stared at Eijiro, taunting him with every blink. It felt like there was never enough space in your enormous king-sized bed, but somehow, now that there wasn't an angry blonde on the other side of the mattress, it felt remarkably empty.

You were long since asleep, curled up and drooling on his chest before 11:30pm - despite your adamant denial that you 'do not drool'. You were tucked up against his side, Dynamight plushie firmly secured under your chin.

The sturdy hero thought it was the purest thing he'd ever seen, and it gave him a reason to text Katsuki so late. He knew under normal circumstances, the blond would kill him for being awake.

He doubted Kats would even be awake himself, but if he wasn't, at least he'd see Ejiro's text in the morning.

So he snapped a quick photo of the two of you, cringing at the brightness of the flash.

~ Red 🪨

Think someone's missing you

The responding message came through in seconds.

~ Blasty 💥

Can't believe we still have that stupid thing.

*image saved*

True enough, the limited edition plush had more than a few scorch marks on it. Evidence of Katsuki's previously attempted 'hits' on the doll.

Ejiro smiled to himself fondly.

~ Red 🪨

I think we'd both prefer it if it was the real Dynamight

~ Blasty 💥

Obviously.

Which in Bakugo language translated to 'Yeah, me too.'

You stirred slightly under your boyfriend's hold, and the red head made a mental note to type more quietly.

~ Red 🪨

How much longer do they think the assignment will take?

~ Blasty 💥

Fuckers keep giving me different answers. Hard to tell. If it’s not done by Friday I’m coming home anyway.

Ejirou knew he very likely would.

~ Blasty 💥

It’s late. Go to sleep, shitty hair.

~ Red 🪨

Can’t sleep. Miss you

~ Blasty 💥

Miss you too, E, and the Gremlin.

He meant you. The nickname stuck after the first time you all slept over together and Katsuki discovered your 'unsavoury' sleeping habits; snoring and latching onto people.

~ Red 🪨

This time it was Kirishima kissing your head gently, your face smooshed even further into his pec with the change in angle. He knew it was risky to use flash, but he was praying you’d stay asleep.

Wish you were here x

~ Blasty 💥

*image saved*

Why’s Friday so fucking far away?

The typing bubble filled the empty silence for a few seconds before disappearing. Riot held back a chuckle, he was tell Katsuki was wrestling with admitting defeat his feelings.

You guys are cute.

~ Red 🪨

Naww thanks babe, you’re not so bad yourself ;)

~ Blasty 💥

Don’t start shit, Ejiro. It's too late.

The red head felt suddenly cocky.

~ Red 🪨

That a challenge?

~ Blasty 💥

Warning you, E.

The red head considered his options for less than half a second before rolling away ever so slightly so he could send his partner a more…scandalous photo.

Pointing the camera towards his chest, Ejirou made sure to get his pec in frame once more, only slightly hardened this time, knowing how much the explosive hero loved them- even if he would rather die before admitting to that.

A cheeky smile showed off his sharp teeth and tongue that hung teasingly out from between them.

He winced at the flash once more, but decided his mission was worth it. Satisfied with himself, he pressed the send button as you stirred beside him.

~ Red 🪨

“E…what’re y’doing?” You mumbled.

“Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. I was just texting Kats.”

“With flash on?” You grumbled, clearly unhappy with the hero beside you.

“I’m, ah….helping him out?”

“Oh. Can I see?”

~ Blasty 💥

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ham1lton · 6 months ago

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MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #formula one smau #formula one #george russell x reader

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chrisevansonly · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there is a new little norris in town, and lando is absolutely smitten

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of childbirth, fluffy dad lando!

𝐚/𝐧: once again i’m sorry for taking so long and for this being shitty and small, i hope you enjoy regardless lol <3

🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸🧸

The house was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was suits playing softy on the tv, Lando had run out to grab a few things for dinner, of course picking up some home cooked meals for the two of you to enjoy over the next few weeks.

Sleeping soundly on your chest was 3 day old baby Poppy Norris, all 6 pounds of her, swaddled up in a quadrant blanket, a gift from Ria a few weeks ago, more of a gag of course but the blanket itself was so fuzzy: perfect for the newborn baby girl.

Your hands held her gently to your chest as you were propped up in the corner of the couch, last night Lando had done the night shift with Poppy which had allowed you to get an entire nights sleep, something you were so grateful for.

The birth experience for you had been pretty straight forward, but it had left you sore and exhausted, Lando doing his absolute best to help in any way he could, no matter what.

After a little while, the front door closed softly, your husband peaking into the living room, a smile on his face as he saw the two of you cuddled up together

“Hi my angels”

“Hi my love, how was your outing?” you responded softly, sending him a smile back

“It was good, mum and dad say hi, they’re gonna stop by tomorrow if that’s alright?”

You nodded, looking down when Poppy made a noise

“Oh did you hear your daddy’s voice? You wanna take her baby, i’ll put the food away?”

Lando’s eyes lit up, he was so enamoured with his little angel, the second he laid eyes on her he knew he would do anything and everything to keep her happy and protected as long as he’d be around.

She was his everything.

He was quick to come over, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips before gently lifting the little baby from your chest, cradling her head gently before settling her into his arms, grabbing the blanket from you to cover her when you got up.

“My pretty pretty girl..” He said softly, kissing her cheeks gently

“Aww so happy to be in daddy’s arms…” you cooed, watching as her eyes blinked up at Lando

She was his carbon copy, from his eyes to his nose, the two of them were twins and you knew she’d inherit his beautiful curls too.

“Will she need to be fed soon?”

After kissing her cheek softly you placed a hand on his back, rubbing up and down gently

“She might, I’ve made a bottle for her it’s in the fridge”

It made feedings easier when you’d decided to breastfeed and bottle feed, Lando loving having his skin on skin time with her when she ate, her fingers would grasp onto his hand tightly, eyes always watching his.

“Perfect, you know you could just leave the food and I’ll do it after?”

Quick to shake your head you kissed him gently

“I don’t mind my love, I feel nice and rested today, thank you for last night…go enjoy some cuddles”

Lando wouldn’t argue with that, doing exactly as he was told, only this time settling down in the rocking chair by the fireplace. Taking one last peak at the two of them you couldn’t help but take a few photos of them. Lando beginning to hum softly to her.

There was no better feeling than this right now, having your perfect little family and your beautiful home, life couldn’t get any better…

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pupyuqi · 14 days ago

Text

⭑ jealous. : yu jimin x f!reader.

— “ it’s my right to be hellish, i still get jealous. ”

🪷 warnings : no serious warnings. reader gets jealous easily. jimin green flag. half smau. reader is apart of aespa. secret relationship. “scandals.” video’s subs are fake ! reader is a bit petty. men dni. turn up volume for the video. content under cut.

word count : 1,15O words ⭑

i dont like the way he’s looking at you

karina was talking to jeno, about what? you didn’t know, you didn’t notice. what you did notice was how close jeno was to the girl—your girl.

you cleared your throat softly as you walked behind karina and wrapped your arms around her small waist, pulling her closer to you and away from him. “jimin… can we get coffee? i heard this new cafe opened near— oh, hi jeno.”

you sounded a bit more passive-aggressive than you had intended. jeno greeted you too before glancing at jimin and then at you, deciding it was probably best to leave you two alone. “i’ve got somewhere to be, talk to you later karina.”

your girlfriend nodded, giving him a small ‘bye’ before turning to look at you. “what was that for?”

“what was what for?” you answered coyly.

I'm starting to think you want him too

Am I crazy? Have I lost ya?

“yn.” she said firmly, making you let out a small whine, your grip on karina loosening as she looked at you. “sorry, i didn’t like how he was looking at you—”

“how was he looking at me?” karina interrupted, her voice dropping an octave as she brought you to a more secluded area.

“… like he wants you,” you murmured, making karina tsk. “baby… he’s just a friend—an acquaintance even. and even if, in some crazy world, he did like me—it wouldn’t matter.”

you grumbled as karina gently cupped your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. “y’know why?”

“why?” you asked softly.

“’cause i love you.”

Even though I know you love me

Can't help it

you blushed at her words, turning away as you coughed out a small ‘whatever,’ trying to sound casual, though the soft blush on your cheeks gave you away.

“don’t ‘whatever’ me,” your girlfriend said, rolling her eyes with a smile as she pressed a small kiss to your cheek.

—

“of course i saw, idiot,” you murmured to yourself.

I turn my cheer music up

And I'm puffing my chest

I'm getting red in the face

You can call me obsessed

It's not your fault that they hover

I mean no disrespect

waking up to your girlfriend’s messages made you feel shitty, really shitty. it wasn’t her fault the paparazzi were there, nor was it her fault that heeseung was also there. you knew that—but you still got jealous.

It's my right to be hellish

I still get jealous

—

“yn,” giselle called from across the room. you were with karina (as usual), your arms wrapped around her waist as you rested your head on her shoulder. “hm?” you hummed in response.

“take a picture of me,” the japanese said with playful impatience. your group had decided to go out together, since promotions for your new mini-album were finally over.

you brought your polaroid camera, thinking it complemented your outfit, and it wouldn’t hurt to take a few pictures.

you pretended to think about aeri’s request for a few seconds before saying with a small smile, “nah, i’m good.”

the oldest scoffed. “wha– what do you mean you’re good?”

“i’m good as in, no thanks. plus, i ran out of film.”

your girlfriend looked at you, her perfect lips forming a pout. “you ran out?” her tone was soft, almost whiny as she glanced at your camera, then back at you. you chuckled at her expression, placing a quick peck on her cheek before shaking your head.

“no, no, i still have film… i just don’t wanna use it on aeri,” you teased. “she’s used up enough.” karina sighed in relief before asking in a small voice, “in that case, could you take some photos of me?”

she didn’t even have to finish her sentence before you were already tweaking the settings of your camera. you knew how she liked her pictures, the vibe she went for, how the sunlight hit her skin, the angles she liked…

karina let out that gentle giggle you were obsessed with, making your knees weak. she stepped back, showing off the beautiful scenery—a gorgeous field filled with unique flowers, though none as unique as her.

you took a couple photos, smiling as she comtinued on with her childish antics, getting distracted when she was supposed to be posing—though you guess it added to the charm, her charm.

once done, she skipped back over to you as you shook the picture to help develop it faster. “can i see?” she asked like an eager child. just as you were about to show her, aeri spoke, your ears perking slightly at her voice.

“hey! you said you were out of film!” she said in a slight whine, making your two youngest members turn to look at you, curious as to what was happening.

you shrugged. the polaroid finally developed, revealing your girlfriend’s beauty. karina smiled as she reached for the picture, studying it for a few seconds before giving you a quick peck on the lips. “… i love it.”

ningning, now bouncing on her toes, wanted to see it too. “oh, that’s so cute! unnie, you look so pretty,” the youngest complimented, and minjeong agreed. aeri glanced at the photo and begrudgingly nodded. “you actually do look cute, that’s rare,” she teased.

“shut up,” jimin murmured, playfully pushing her.

“no really, unnie. you look pretty,” winter added.

'Cause you're too fuckin' beautiful

And everybody wants a taste

you gently tugged on karina’s free hand, making her look at you. she giggled before pulling you closer, her fingers intertwining with yours. “yeah, well, that’s probably because my super cool and cute girlfriend took my pictures.”

the others chuckled as you nuzzled into jimin’s shoulder. “yeah, yeah, we get it—you two are in love,” minjeong said playfully as jimin waved her hand dismissively.

That's why (That's why)

I still get jealous

—

you were lying in bed, curled up against karina, but something didn’t feel right. jimin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. you were quiet—too quiet. “… baby?”

you let out a soft hum in response.

“you okay?” she asked, rubbing small circles on your back.

“… yeah,” you murmured, but your tone betrayed you.

“you sure?” she repeated

you stayed silent for a few more seconds before nuzzling further into her. “… was on twitter, and i saw people talking about how you and jeno look good together.”

jimin could practically hear you pouting as she pulled back slightly to look at you. her expression softened when she saw your face—your face she loved so much.

“don’t mind them, baby. they don’t know what they’re talking about,” she reassured, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “… don’t be jealous. you’re the only one i want,” she added before placing a quick kiss on your cheek, then your lips.

it was nice—you could admit that. though, you knew that no matter what, you’d still get jealous.

#— sia’s work #aespa #karina #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #kpop x reader #fem!reader #kpop #kpop wlw #yu jimin #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #; aespa

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seiwas · 9 months ago

Text

₊˚⊹｡ i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu

wc: 2.4k

summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love.

contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love

a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up.

Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it.

Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?

Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys.

This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all).

So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—

—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes.

This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys.

“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand.

Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this.

He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret.

“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.”

This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up.

The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown.

There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit.

And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now.

“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”

When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.

And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you.

It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger).

He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you.

His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway.

Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days.

Other than that, home has always been your place.

And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space.

The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you.

It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever.

The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.

Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him.

Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him.

Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up.

“Samu, I think am g’na die.”

The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better.

Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background.

“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?”

Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack.

His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode.

All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you.

“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.”

Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.

But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient).

“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.”

Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time.

His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease.

He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger).

And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you.

So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time.

He’s never been this nervous in his life.

The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to.

What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.

So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes.

You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life.

“Please don’t break up wit’ me.”

The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.

“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.

His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’.

“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.”

You nod, tilting your head to urge him on.

“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.”

Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug.

This is why Atsumu loves you—

This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants.

—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up.

“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.”

He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort.

You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain.

After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie.

You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers.

“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous.

You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly.

“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”

The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever.

He feels like crying again.

“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.”

Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again.

But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?”

You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.

The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?”

You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger.

“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x yn #haikyuu!! x reader #atsumu x you #miya atsumu x yn #miya atsumu x you #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #how to be your lover boy collab

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doomedmoth · 1 month ago

Text

War is Over

Pairing : Reader x Daniel Ricciardo x Max Verstappen | Poly fem!reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, polyamory, queer drivers, reader is around 30

Synopsis : You’re just a mechanic at RedBull, not much more to say. Nothing in your contract says you can’t be friends with drivers, right ? The little lines very clearly says you’re not allowed to show it all though. When your chosen “family” fails you, all you can do is hope your loved ones save themselves too.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi cryptids, honestly I have no excuses to give, sorry for the randomness of it all, I just needed to get this out to process with the pain of loosing Daniel. I can only hope he finds happiness away from the shit show that RedBull is becoming. Probably going back to hibernation, see ya !

[Messages] Dumber has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : How it started / how it’s going (swipe for my face when I’m not covered in grease). Hello to everyone new here, I’m Y/N, Chief Engine Power Conformity Mechanician at redbullracing ! Based in the never-sunny town of Milton Keynes, but you might see me around the paddock at most races to make sure no one explodes ✌🏻

Liked by redbullracing, F1mech and others

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F1mech little miss mini boss 🫡

yourusername be glad to have me around to do the dirty work

F1mech Yes ma’am very grateful ma’am 🫡

redbullracing Your work is so crucial and we are happy the world gets to know you more !

redbullracing Also it was sunny last we came to MK ???

yourusername nobody tell admin we take out the fake blue sky windows when he comes by

user1 lmao I live in Milton Keynes and can attest we haven’t seen the sun in weeeeks

user2 never wanted to be a redbull neon sign so bad

user3 I can see why they hide her in the shithole that is Milton Keynes, the whole paddock would go crazy over her

user4 she would make such a cute wag omg !!

user5 bet every girlie is on their man’s back whenever she’s around

user6 she works for RB soooo… d’you think her and checo…? 😳

user7 she already has someone guys !! Though we have never seen his face, but I think she’s more interested in the cars than the ones inside them

user6 checo is married and still it doesn’t stop him lmao

user8 are you part of the pit crew ?? Never seen you before ! /g

yourusername I’m not !! I mainly work on the cars before and after the races and practices to make sure everything is in place, not faulty, and compliant to both Redbull’s and the FIA’s standards of security 🤗 but 60/70% of my work is at the factory, and the paddock parts happens behind close doors, so no worries

maxverstappen1 she makes sure nobody dies

yourusername and god knows y’all make it hard sometimes

danielricciardo yeah this second pic is so much better

yourusername oh don’t start me boy

danielricciardo hihihi 🤭

user9 hello Daniel ???

user10 How can I work at Redbull too pls I beg you I’ll even make coffee and mop the floors

yourusername check our offers on the website honey !! Most jobs require some experience or diploma but we also offer internships and graduate programs if you want to make your way in

user10 thank u 🥹

user10 that’s how you got in ?

yourusername nope, I’ve worked on cars forever and in motorsports for years before getting to F1, but we have plenty of opportunities in non-technical fields too!

user11 pretty, kind, works in f1, not single, lemme just Google how to be like you

user12 you okay dude ? Throat not hurting too much from gagging on her dick

user13 lmaoooo yeah seeing her looks that’s probably a daddy’s girl who got put in exec and pretends to know what she’s talking about

user14 wouldn’t be shocked if her “work behind closed doors” is ordering actual mechs around like minions

danielricciardo is your little ego so hurt by the fact that you’ll never be talented enough to get to her place that you’ve resorted to running your shitty mouth online ? Breath getting stinky mate, careful 🤢

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yourusername : Everything’s twice as fun with you

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user15 lover boy lover boy lover boy !

user16 I’m more excited for the face reveal than for my best friend’s wedding

user17 pls get checked wtf

user18 wait isn’t he blonde ? who’s the dark haired one in some pics ? With tattoos ?

user19 you might be new but Y/N always post pics of lover boy randomly, so some pics are old, and he often dyes his hair !

user18 wow damn I need his hairdresser coz this is cleaaaaan

yourbff don’t tell me you let him touch your car

yourusername lmaooo never 💀 tried to teach him to change some parts on his

yourbff and…?

yourusername ended up doing it…

yourbff at least he’s cute !!

yourusername Hey ! That must counts for something !

user20 not them bullying him coz he either doesn’t have socials or is not allowed to answer

yourbff what ? us ?

yourusername Never 😇

user21 oh damn she bagged herself a hottie

user22 HE bagged himself a hottie have you seen her ??

user23 couple goals and we ain’t ever seen his face like

user24 ain’t no need for a face with a body like this

user25 kinda looks like Max on the 6th slide no ??

user26 lmao as if

user27 the man can bag any celebrity doubt he cares for a factory girl

user28 the pic with the RB can lol

yourusername trained him well 😇

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[Instagram] maxverstappen1 has added a story

user29 replied to the story :

oh yeah I keep forgetting y’all old money rich rich

user30 replied to the story :

so we all forgetting about Horner’s accusation ?? Truly just RB’s bitch in the end

user31 replied to the story :

Is that y/n ?? Didn’t know the mechs were invited to those events

danielricciardo replied to the story :

man I do take amazing pics when the models look so good

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yourusername : vitamin sea 🌊⛱️🐚 Australia, you never disappoint

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oscarpiastri wish we could have hung out more 🥺

yourusername we hung out at your house bby!!

user32 BBY ?? SOMEONE CALL LILY COZ THIS BITCH IS OVERSTEPPING

oscarpiastri we didn’t hang out you repaired my mom’s car while Lily and I were drinking WARM BEERS ON THE FLOOR

yourusername SORRY YOU CAN’T APPRECIATE MY CRAFT LIKE YOUR MOTHER DOES also hi to lils 💕🌸🎀

oscarpiastri DON’T BRING MY MOM INTO THIS she said she misses u 🤗💕✨

user32 oh

yourusername yeah

oscarpiastri yeah

nicolepiastri yeah

yourbff you need to turn off work like for reeeaaaal

yourusername how can I when those two are literally glued to my hip

danielricciardo shocked sad disappointed

maxverstappen1 Lover boy will hear about this

yourusername Are those threats ? Remember I literally have power over your life

danielricciardo not mine anymore lol Lover boy WILL HEAR about this

user33 oh so that definitely erases the possibility of Max or Daniel being Lover Boy

user34 as if there had ever been any evidence of that

user35 Lover boy in the Redbull cap ??

yourusername Yep ! Max gave it to him

user35 daaaaamn he is ripped

yourusername hihi 🤭

user36 no one questioning why the fuck is a mechanician hanging so much with drivers ??

user37 *chief mechanician

F1mech oh shit buddy thank you, we weren’t aware we couldn’t be friends with people we spend more than half of the year on the road with

maxverstappen1 cancel your ticket rn mate, you can’t vacation with us

F1mech come on user36, see what you’ve done ?? Maybe if you hadn’t questioned it I could have gone, fucker

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user38 has replied to your story :

Not you posting this straight after the checo announcement 💀

yourbff has replied to your story :

just saw the news, is Danny ok ?? Pls call me

maxverstappen1 has replied to your story :

Booked you a table at San Marco at 8, sorry I can’t be there tonight…

it’s okay, I know how it is, I just don’t want him to be alone… thx for the restaurant 💕

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user39 has replied to your story :

omg same

user40 has replied to your story :

IS THAT DANIEL ???

user41 has replied to your story :

the tattoos ??? girl we knoooow

redbullracing has replied to your story :

y/n ?

yup yup yup sorry

This story has been deleted.

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user41 has replied to your story :

lmao miss thing is piiiissed

yukitsunoda0511 has replied to your story :

i can’t find my controller d’you have one more ? 🥺

yes bby just come before your food gets cold

user42 has replied to your story :

She supports Max’s rights but mostly Max’s wrongs

*****

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user43 has replied to your story :

preeeaach 🙌🏻

user44 has replied to your story :

all redbull employees protesting the FIA has me going !! Tell Horner to open his mouth too for once

danielricciardo has replied to your story :

I want this pic as my new lockscreen

*****

[Twitter] danyfanclub just posted

*****

[Instagram] danielricciardo just posted a photo

danielricciardo : l've loved this sport my whole life. It's wild and wonderful and been a journey. To the teams and individuals that have played their part, thank you. To the fans who love the sport sometimes more than me haha thank you. It'll always have its highs and lows but it's been fun and truth be told I wouldn't change it.

Until the next adventure.

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redbullracing 🫶🏻

user45 SHUT UP

user46 the audacity

user47 you promised you would treat him better !!

user48 Daniel > Perez

user49 DTS fan

lewishamilton legend 🫂

user50 game recognize game

user51 tell Mercedes to give him a seat

maxverstappen1 Head up ! Many more beautiful moments to come, somewhere you’ll be recognized and appreciated 💪🏻 our time together isn’t over, but I’m glad for all the racing, the laughs, the nights, for you ❤️

user52 wow hm Max no need to make all of us cry

user53 I feel like I’ve just walked in on something very personal…

user54 maxiel 😭😭😭

user55 he was the best mate you ever had, never should have left RedBull

yourusername Working with you was an honor, but getting to know and appreciate you made my whole life brighter, and I can’t thank you enough for this 🌞 no contracts can bring us apart, see you around honey bee 💛

user56 the little dig at RB’s contracts lmao

user57 why does honey bee feel much more intimate than honey badger ??

user58 we haven’t seen this level of emotion for De Vries, yet you were already working for the “RedBull family” if I’m not mistaken ??

user59 maybe because no one gives two shits about De Vries ??

*****

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yourusername : Well, there it is. After 15 years of working on cars, the last 10 in motorsports, last five in Formula 1, it’s time for me to take a break. It was just perfect to finish it off in my hometown Austin, and I’m so grateful to my friends and family who made the trip to celebrate together. I remember my first week at Milton Keynes, my whole life in a suitcase. Abu Dhabi 2021, and those stories we’ll keep for our old days. I was so proud to be part of this, the champagne, the fireworks, the love. The day Daniel came back to us. The people I’ve met, the opportunities I’ve had, none would have been possible without you, ‘Bull. It’s been oh so amazing, but oh so tiring. I’ve reached a point in my life where I need my environment to be aligned with what I want, my values and the people I love and care for. So it’s goodbye.

F1, thank you for everything. I’ll miss you, but I gotta go. 💙

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F1mech I solemnly swear to not make anything explode, to always triple check my laces, to never pick Yoshi in Mario Kart because it’s yours, and to forever keep you close to my heart. Thx mini boss, you were amazing 🫡

yourusername Thanks Callum, you’re gonna make me cry now…

user60 US TOO 😭

user61 naaaaah another one leaving RedBull, shit is really going down

user62 where do you think she’s going ? Aston ?

user63 or Ferrari

yourusername Sorry to disappoint but neither ! It’s really a full break, for a while at least, I need to get my head out of the oil and machinery

user64 leaving England then ?? What about lover boy ??

yourusername Lover boy was never British eheh, who told you that ? 🤭

user65 if Lover boy is confirmed to be Daniel I’ll loose my shit

user66 I will always root for Max though…

user67 he has tattoos omg it’s never been Max !!

redbullracing Now it’s pretty sure MK will never see the sun again with you gone 😭

user68 we still hate you

user69 fuck off

yukitsunoda0511 🥺🫶🏻

yourusername 😚🫴🏻💕

yourbff it’ll be hard, but it’ll be good

yourusername thankfully i won’t be alone

yourbff not long to wait

yourusername yeah, soon soon

user70 ???

user71 I have a headache just thinking about everything the soon soon could be about

user72 really doubt Max is staying much longer in RedBull seeing how many engineers are quitting

*****

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user73 has replied to your story :

no yeah we get it this looks much better than the factory lmao

user74 has replied to your story :

Honey bee ?? I’ve heard that one before

oscarpiastri has replied to your story :

Mom said you haven’t gone to see her yet ! Meanie !

user75 has replied to your story :

crazy how Max starts winning again since you’re gone

*****

[Instagram] f1 just posted a photo

F1 : BREAKING : Max Verstappen has announced his retirement after winning his 4th World’s Drivers Championship.

Record breaker.

Late braker.

Legend.

#ThankYouMax

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user76 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user77 when I tell you I fell to my knees

user78 screaming crying throwing up

user79 I refuse to believe this is true

user80 what the hell was this season

user81 DTS is gonna have a field day with this one

user80 doubt 10 episodes are gonna be enough

redbullracing There aren’t enough words to describe the impact you’ve had on our history, Max. You’ll forever be a pillar of the RedBull family, and an icon of the sport. Tudududu 🧡

lewishamilton Thank you for the challenges, you’ve always pushed us to go harder. Never thought I would have to see you leave, but we’ll keep your legacy running 👑

user82 Alonso when ???

user83 Who’s gonna take his seat ? Honey badger comeback ?

user84 doubt it, he said in the only interview he gave that he had some friends to go see a few continents away, bet he was talking bout Danny

user85 April Fools ?

user86 In December ??

user87 I really don’t understand why, everything was going much better with the car lately

user88 I think he’s just done with the sport, he said multiple time he wouldn’t force it if he didn’t feel like it anymore

*****

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user89 has replied to your story :

wait, if that’s lover boy, who’s the guy you were with lately ??

user90 has replied to your story :

Sydney airport !!

user91 has replied to your story :

OMG I KNEW I SAW MAX IN SYDNEY THIS MORNING WTF I RECOGNIZE HIM

yourbff has replied to your story :

you did it bby, it’s time to rest now

ily, we will 💕

user92 has replied to your story :

The timing with Max quitting RB is so odd I’m seriously questioning my sanity rn

*****

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yourusername, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 : War is Over.

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*****

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danielricciardo : From sneaking out of restaurants to barricading the doors of our shared hotel rooms, I wish I could have told the world earlier how much I love you. But I’m glad I can now. There’s something magical about finding the one, so when you find the two, you’ll make any radical change necessary to protect them. Think you were right Maxie, the farm life does suit us.

This was the Honey Badger, peace ✌🏻

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maxverstappen1 : Turning off comments coz those two are mine and you can only admire them from afar. I know they’re pretty. They’re mine. And I’ll say it as many times as I want now. Mine mine mine mine mine

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yourusername : Oh, I’m sorry, did I say Lover Boy ? I meant Boys 🤭

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user93 WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

user94 mother is finally letting us out of the cage and none of us can take it

user95 the first pic

user96 I could die

user97 who the fuck even took it

user98 she said “y’all won’t let me post their faces ? I’ll give you the whole sextape”

user99 I knew it I fucking knew it Maxiel nation we won

oscarpiastri so happy for you guys, go be free with the little goats 🥹

yourusername pls try to survive

maxverstappen1 and if RB tries to buy you RUN BACK HOME

user100 oh shit it’s time for no filter Max era

yourusername you’ve had a taste this year, be prepared for the real deal

yukitsunoda0511 finally i can stop pretending to not speak English when asked about you

danielricciardo you were pretending very well if I may say

yukitsunoda0511 thanks !

user101 oh yuki sweet summer child…

user102 don’t tell me in Japan already ??

yourusername you really took a good look at this pic and thought “yeah, those two are straight” ? It’s a you issue honestly

user102 yeah okay fair

user103 7th pic ???

maxverstappen1 Abu Dhabi ‘21

maxverstappen1 tasted better than champagne tbh

user104 oh so y’all are just leaking EVERYTHING now, no fucks given

danielricciardo I had to pay a lot for those pics to not get out back then so yeah kinda

danielricciardo which is a shame when we look so good

user105 sooooo… about the high performance athlete….?

maxverstappen1 yes.

yourusername yes.

danielricciardo 💕

*****

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urfavlarry · 6 months ago

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hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏

Awkward Situations

Joost Klein x artist!reader

summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring

genre: fluff!

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.

You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.

You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.

In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.

It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.

You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.

“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#joost klein requests #joost klein x y/n #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joostice for joost #joost x reader #justice for joost #joostice #free joost #stand with joost #joost klein fanfiction #eurovision requests #eurovision x reader #eurovision fanfiction

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yawnderu · 1 year ago

Text

Thin Walls — Keegan P. Russ x Reader

Dbf!Keegan collab with the amazing @moosch MWAH

Check out her amazing drawing on this<3

There were rare times Keegan felt like he may have chosen the wrong job. Right now? Covered in dirt and grime, seeking shelter in an abandoned building with the rest of the ghosts after a particularly hard mission was one of those moments. What was supposed to be a three hour mission went downhill and turned into four long days of chasing down an enemy for intel.

The first thing he did as soon as the building was cleared was to fish for his phone, reading the thread of messages he had from you; ranging from telling him about your day, to complaining about missing him and how he owes you a shopping spree for going dark. He rolled his eyes, a deep chuckle rumbling out of his chest and escaping his lips. A new text caught his attention, scrolling down to read it.

Brat: [16:38]

I see you online, can we ft? Papa wants to see u :)

He stares at your message for a few seconds, considering his chances. Keegan looks like shit— eye black smudged messily all over his face, uniform dirty and muddy, a streak of dried up blood dripping down his forehead, and icy blue eyes so tired you would think he died and was never informed. He didn't want you or your father; his best friend, to see him at his worst.

Glucose Father: [16:40]

Sorry princess, signs too shitty for that. Send me some pics of that bratty face and maybe I'll take you shopping when I'm back?

He internally cringed at the text, rarely even using his phone unless it was to text your father and you. His fingers tap on the sides of his phone as he waited for a reply, putting the idle chatter of the ghosts in the back of his mind as he went to another room with the excuse of being able to get some sleep once and for all.

For a second, he ignored the phone vibrating in his hand, leaning against the wall and sitting down with a groan, sore muscles finally able to rest, even if only for a few hours.

Brat [16:43]

Sent 6 attachments.

His tired eyes drifted down to his phone, opening the message and being received by the sight of you, a smile adorning your pretty face. His gaze softened and his pants tightened as he noticed you wearing one of his shirts, fitting into it so much better than he could. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, listening to the chatter on the other side of the thin wall before his free hand drifted down to his growing bulge, holding back a groan as he palmed his sensitive cock over his pants.

"Fuck..." He whispered, hesitantly lowering his fly enough to pull his dick out, gloveless hand feeling the length of it before he started stroking slowly, moving his hand up and down while he looked at your pictures. They were completely innocent pictures, really, simply showing your pretty face and bright smile, yet he couldn't help it.

He was trying his best to be quiet despite how good jerking off felt after so much stress. His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes screwed shut as his mind came up with the filthiest fucking images, thinking of your lips wrapped around his cock, struggling to take him as he fucked your face. He could just imagine the noises that would come out of you as his thick dick was shoved all the way down your throat, a deep growl coming out of his lips as his rough fingers massaged his tip, spreading the leaking precum and using it as lube to jerk off better.

He swapped to another photo of you smiling brightly at the camera, holding up a piece sign. What a fucking sight for sore eyes. He imagined your pretty face glazed in his thick white cum, tongue tainted by his seed. His hand involuntary moved faster and harder up and down his cock, applying more pressure with each stroke until he had to bite his lip to stop himself from making too much noise, aware enough of the thin walls.

He couldn't wait to go back home to you, making you cuddle up to him and holding you like a lifeline, the plush of your ass pressing up against his cock as you allowed him to grope you, his hands grasping at as much as he could grab while his hard clothed cock rubbed against your ass. You're killing me, brat.

A deep, low moan came out of his lips his cock twitched in his hand, balls tightening up as ropes of thick, white cum shot out, covering his hand. He squeezed his cock a little bit tighter, making sure all his cum was out, taking another look at your pretty face in the selfies before he began cleaning up.

Evidence hidden and with his cock back in his pants he stepped back into the room with the other ghosts, instantly met with the amused faces of Ajax and Kick, clearly holding in their laughter.

"Had some fun, bro?" Ajax asked, not even able to hold in his laugh anymore, Kick following right after.

"Yeah, yeah." Keegan grumbled, rolling his eyes as he sat down and pulled out his flask.

"Next time I'll do it in the same room as you motherfuckers." Logan's frown deepened.

#cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #keegan russ #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan russ smut #keegan p russ x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n

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xxchumanixx · 4 months ago

Note

I know it says requests closed, ok? But i'll leave this here until you take requests ❤️

also i looove your work sm

can you do one with tim bradford x fem!reader with a lot of angst, hurt to comfort something bad? like the reader gets hurt, kidnapped something very bad outside work.

the reader is lucy's best friend and tim's gf, maybe the reader being a rookie at the same time as lucy

and the reader gets in some trouble and it becomes progressively worse but she didn't say anything to anyone bc she's a cop and think she can handle it?

but in the end it's like really bad and tim is desperate looking for her, and his world crushes when he finds her?

something similar to 2x11 (that ep broke me into pieces and the scene with tim and lucy buried my heart right in hell) but his desperation is waay worse bc it's about the reader and he loves her

lots of love ❤️

Breaking Point

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: a lot of angst, hurt, mentions of blood, fluff

Word count: tba

Authors note: Hello love, omg it's been soo long I'm soooo sorry! This is not proofread yet, but I hope you'll like it! Love you!

Also, don't know if anyone else has that problem, but every time I make something fat or cursive, it changes the whole text after a few seconds. This happened after an update, and it's SO annoying!

OMG

Anyways, enjoy!

Listen, I know what you might think now.

Okay, maybe I don't. But to get captured and tortured wasn't your intention when this started.

Hell, of course it wasn't.

But you couldn't have predicted this either.

Neither could you have predicted how an encounter with a certain gangster would end - with you doing whatever he says.

At least he had the decency to only let you make his wrongdoings disappear.

It all went good.

That was, until one day you said no to him. It took him ten hours of his patience to kidnap and torture you, leave you for every cop to see what a shitty job you had done for this city.

And to your fellow colleagues.

You had only graded p2, together with Lucy and John. Lucy and you were best friends; it had instantly clicked once you started your training together.

You had been the first to know about her and John, had helped her through the heartbreak and all that had followed.

She, in turn, was the first to know about you and Tim.

You had started dating when you were still a rookie - luckily not his, or else it would have made everything a lot more complicated.

So, when everything seemed to go perfect, it had to come some shit along the way. It just couldn't have stayed perfect, could it?

This shit was named Luis El Ferno.

A wealthy son of an even wealthier mafia family that had a thing for speeding and collecting tickets. Along with other things that piled up in his file.

And as luck had it, he sought you out to be the perfect candidate for blackmailing. So when the first picture of your almost naked form landed in your mail, you had the shock of your life.

The photo was paired with a letter, saying if you didn't do as he said, he'd ruin your career. And not only that.

He'd ruin you completely.

So you complied, hoping to handle this on your own. Tim was clueless, as was the rest of them all.

Things soon took turns, though, getting worse the more time passed. Then, when he wanted you to do more than just cleaning up his mess, you said no.

You told yourself it was for the better.

You were a cop after all. You could handle this, right?

Big mistake.

When he found out he couldn't threaten you with the photos anymore, at least not enough for you to give in, he let his men kidnap you.

They punched you and used you as their personal boxing bag. They didn't stop when you were pleading, and they didn't stop when you fell silent.

They only stopped when there was nothing left to beat.

And when you closed your eyes, you had never been more grateful for the comfort of nothingness.

----

"You have to be kidding me!" Lucy laughed, leaning back on the sofa. "No way! Tell me you're lying!"

You laughed with her, shaking your head. "I wish I was." you said. "It was so embarrassing! For a moment, I thought he'd let me walk back to the station!"

She laughed louder, biting her lip.

"I would have loved to see that!" she said. "I can imagine the look on Tim's face so clearly!"

You shook your head, smiling. "Yeah, you should have seen the way he tried to keep his cool." you told her. "The poor lady excused herself so many times that her puke was already dry when she finally was in the car."

Lucy doubled over with laughter, the glass in her hand shaking threateningly. "Oh my god!" she breathed out, wiping at her eyes. "Damn, I need that body cam material!"

Eyes widening, you shook your head. "God, no!"

She laughed even more at your shocked expression, wiping at her eyes once more. Oh, she would somehow get that footage, she was sure of that.

It was a night with your bestie, a tradition that had developed early in your training as a rookie. You would sit together, drink cocktails, and do whatever you wanted.

Painting your nails, watching sappy movies, or simply talking.

It was something you never would have missed out on. So, when you didn't show up that day and Lucy didn't get a message from you saying that you wouldn't make it, either, she started to get worried.

She knew you better than most people did, so she knew something must be wrong. Calling Tim, her fingers danced over the rim of her glass, nerves piling up.

"Hey, do you know where Y/N is?" she asked when he picked up, not wasting any time.

Tim frowned on the other end of the line. "I thought she would be with you?" he gave back, eyes scanning the living room.

Your things weren't there, so you must have been on your way to Lucy, right?

"Well, she isn't here, and she didn't text me." Lucy responded, causing Tim's frown to deepen. You were reliable, you wouldn't just cancel plans without telling her.

Let alone disappear.

"I haven't heard from her since this morning." Tim admitted, biting his cheek. "I mean, we had an argument, but still, she would at least text."

Lucy sighed, nodding to herself.

"I'm worried, Tim." she admitted. "If she didn't text any of us, nor show up..." She bit down on her finger, trying to get rid of the horrible thoughts swarming her mind.

Tim swallowed heavily. He already felt guilty for not checking up on you earlier, and the fact that they didn't know where you were, made it even worse.

"I'm heading to the station." he decided, getting up with the phone still pressed to his ear. Lucy nodded on the other end. "Okay, I'll meet you there."

He knew better than to argue with her. She'd do anything for the people she loved.

----

"Okay, one last chance." he whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver in disgust. His breath reeked of whiskey, his shirt of cigarettes. "I really don't want to rearrange that pretty face of yours."

You swallowed heavily but didn't budge. He wouldn't get you to let a corpse disappear.

Never.

He tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. "And here I thought we were friends." he mused, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You jerked your head away from him, glaring up at him. "We're not friends, Luis." you told him angrily. He scoffed, the back of his hand connecting with your cheek with a harsh slap.

Your head whipped to the side, skin aflame.

Tears pricked in your eyes, but your anger only intensified.

"Do you really think you're in command here?" he seethed, harshly grabbing your chin to make you look at him, fingers digging into your burning flesh. "Dont forget who you're dealing with!"

You spit in his face in response.

Another big mistake.

You really should have listened to your mother never to get involved with such people.

Mothers always were right, weren't they?

Luis face became progressively darker, turning redder. He roared, and his fist made contact with your gut, knocking the wind out of you.

So much for the gut feeling.

"Maybe I should teach you a lesson." Luis grumbled, shaking his hand. "You little slut are stepping out of line, and I really don't like that!"

You swallowed, knowing what this man was capable of doing.

Or let do.

He whistled, smirking at you. Two men entered the large room that could have worked as bouncers - ex-military if you'd had to guess.

Luis turned his attention to the men, speaking extra loud so you wouldn't miss his words.

"This little whore needs to be taught a lesson." he told them. "Or two. She's dancing out of line, and I can't have that. Vladimir-" he turned to one of them and your blood ran cold.

Russians.

"You said your wrist ached, right? Maybe a little punching will help?"

Vladimir, the bigger of the too, chuckled darkly. "When did it not?"

His knuckles cracked, and your eyes closed, silently praying Tim would find you before it was too late.

----

"I want every available cop in this station." Tim spoke as Grey entered the on call room. His brows knitted at Tim's words, clearing his throat.

"Bradford, what is going on?" he wanted to know, all eyes on them. "Y/N is missing." Tim explained, thumbs hooked into his waistband, so his fingers wouldn't fumble with everything they got hold of.

Grey's brows knitted further before he nodded. "Are you sure she's missing?" he asked. Tim nodded, eyes downcast. "Yes, sir."

Grey hummed, clearing his throat again. "Okay." he said, swallowing. "Where was she last seen?"

They started to form a plan, checking your last locations. Your phone hadn't been responsive yet, not being able to be tracked.

They were checking out possible locations on a map, as Tim's phone suddenly rang with a message, then another. He fished for his phone, hoping it was you.

His hopes were heard.

Without further checking the message, he clicked on it, mind working overtime.

Then, his blood ran cold, and everything suddenly came crashing to a halt.

The message consisted of a photo and a text.

A photo of you, battered and bruised, blood staining your body and clothes. They were torn, your head hanging low.

Under the photo, the message read: "Your officer, Y/N Y/L/N, has done a very shitty job. Only fair for her to pay the price for it."

Tim could feel all eyes on him, the room suddenly eerily silent. His fingers trembled, his whole body trembled.

He could hear Grey distantly, asking him what happened. He could feel his hand on his shoulder, turning him towards him, but everything seemed to be in a blur.

Grey's gaze fell to the phone, and his heart stopped. "Oh god." he mumbled, a lump forming in his throat.

Lucy stepped forward, heart hammering nervously in her chest. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "What happened?" she wanted to know, repeating Grey's words.

Neither of them reacted for a second, glued to the spot, eyes on the phone. Moments later, it clattered to the floor as Tim stumbled backward. Lucy took the opportunity to grab it, turning the display towards her.

She wished she hadn't.

Her breath got stuck in her throat at what she saw. She read the text a few times, mind running haywire. Her hands shook, and she had to place the phone down, or otherwise it would have fallen for a second time.

They could only hope you weren't as dead as you looked.

----

It was ugly.

First you found it strange, then funny that they were counting the amount of times they punched you.

They must have been paid for punches.

After the tenth punch, you fell silent. You had pleaded for them to stop only moments earlier, as they took turns in punching and slapping you.

Neither of them cared for your feeble attempts. It only seemed to spur them on.

Every part of your body ached by now, your numb mind telling you to be grateful that they weren't doing other things to you.

It felt like you'd been hit by a truck numerous times.

You weeped as a blow to your stomach knocked any remaining air from your lungs.

That was all you could muster now.

A small weep.

Your head felt like it was wrapped in clouds, vision blurry, and slowly fading. Your hope of getting out of this alive withering by the second.

How were they supposed to find you? How should they track you when Luis took your phone, most likely destroying it?

A punch in your face made your head spin, as everything seemed to blur together, dark spots obscuring your vision further.

And as you thought all hope was lost, you slowly sank into the comfort of unconsciousness.

----

Time seemed to tick in slow motion.

Tim couldn't keep still, he had to move, trying to match his racing heart.

The fear he felt cut deep, like a knife. It bored its way into his heart, infecting it with its poison. He had only felt such fear twice before - once when his ex-wife left him overnight, and the second time when Lucy was buried alive.

But it didn't compare to the fear he felt now. It seemed tenfold.

Grey had to calm him multiple times, or else he would have stormed out there, searching every building for you.

He would have done everything for you.

After what felt like an eternity to Tim, they were able to track the location where the photo of you was taken.

The photo that was glued to the back of his eyelids, not letting him think of anything else.

He felt guilty, an ugly feeling that crept into his very being, infiltrating all of his nerves, his bones, and very fibers.

It was the worst feeling of them all.

He blamed himself - blamed himself for accusing you of having secrets eatlier that day.

That he was right he didn't know then.

But he'd seen your change in demeanor, the way you would pull away from him.

It hurt him so much that he caused an argument.

One he was deeply regretting now.

He had to remind himself to pay attention, to wait for the signal to enter the warehouse they located you in.

How cliché.

When Grey gave the signal, Tim's heart stumbled before it doubled its speed.

Time to move.

They walked forward in formation before splitting, getting ready to bust the door open and head inside, facing whatever might lurk behind the heavy metal door.

When the door was opened, he was the first to enter the large room, eyes quickly scanning his surroundings, gun drawn, as he flinched at the sight.

Tim believed his heart had stopped.

If he hadn't been standing upright, he'd thought he'd died - even though that could have changed any second, as he stumbled towards you.

He couldn't tell if you were still breathing, your body hanging limp in the chair in the middle of the warehouse. Your face was bruised - badly, blood wherever his eyes reached.

They stung, tears threatening to push through. But he did his best to keep himself together, even though the gasp Angela let out as she saw you, didn't make it any easier for him.

Falling down on his knees in front of you, he let his gun clatter to the floor, fingers carefully brushing away the hair that was stuck to your bloody face. With trembling fingers, he tried to feel for a pulse, heart stopping when he didn't immediately find one.

He could feel the others stare at him, waiting for an answer.

"Come on!" he mumbled to himself, feeling again as goosebumps covered his skin.

There - it was weak, but it was there.

"She's alive." he managed to get out, knowing that the ambulance was already on the way. Relief flooded him, even though it was short-lived.

You seemed like you would give out any moment.

Nyla walked behind you, carefully cutting the rope that was binding you to the chair - the only thing keeping you upright, as you fell forward and into Tim's arms.

His body shook, but he did his best to suppress it.

He had to be strong for the both of you now.

He cradled you in his arms, biting his lip until it bled, all to keep the tears at bay. Praying to whatever gods may be above to let you survive this.

Losing you would have been too much. It'd have destroyed him irrevocably.

He could hear sirens, swallowing against the lump in his throat that seemed to get bigger as time slowly passed.

He could feel the stares, knew they were asking themselves what you must have done to deserve this.

Hell, he asked himself the same question.

And, most importantly, who did this to you.

Whoever it was wouldn't get far once Tim would have his hands on them.

He barely noticed when the paramedics almost had to pry you from his hands, getting you ready for transport.

He was in the back of the ambulance even before they had carried you in.

His numb fingers dug into his pockets, catching onto something. They gripped hold of it, turning the small object over in his hand, thumb brushing over the velvet.

A ring.

He had meant to give it to you, having noticed how much you had seemed to like it when you first saw it.

Now he wondered if he'd ever have the chance to give it to you.

Once you were settled, they took off, the look on Lucy's face surely going to haunt him for weeks to come.

It mirrored his own emotions perfectly.

Fear, helplessness.

Something he didn't feel often.

----

Steady, rhythmic beating was what brought you back.

An awful sound, yet it was the proof of life.

Your body felt heavy, mind dizzy. Your mouth was dry and you were sure you must have died and went straight to hell.

Blinking your eyes open, they were met by dim light, stars shining on the other side of the big window.

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness. As your eyes slowly took in your surroundings, landing on Tim whose head lay on your bed, sleeping peacefully, it all came crushing back.

Tears flooded your eyes, soon the dam breaking. They ran over your face in hot streaks, your bruised skin stinging.

Hands shaking, you brought one of it up to his head, softly brushing through his hair as a sob spilled over your lips.

What you had done was nowhere excusable. They would fire you once they knew what exactly you had done.

You were sure of it.

Tim stirred, disturbed in his sleep. His eyes blinked open, and once they fell on you, he was wide awake, sitting upright.

He scooted closer with his chair, hands gripping your own. Seeing you cry broke his heart.

"It's okay." he shooed, thumbs brushing over the back of your hands before he brought one up, carefully wiping at your tear streaked face. "It's okay, you're safe now."

Your head shook almost automatically, tears and sobs intensifying. "No." you croaked out, sight blurry, and his brows furrowed. "No, it's not okay."

Your head fell back into the cushion, biting your lip as you shook it again.

"What happened?" Tim voiced the question he'd asked himself so many times. "Who did this to you?"

At first, you didn't answer, gaze fixed on the ceiling. When he was about to ask again, your mouth slowly opened.

"I fucked up." you managed to get past your split lips. "I fucked everything up."

Tim had to swallow, doing his best to stay patient. Whatever you did must have been so bad, that it resulted in this.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath. "Luis El Ferno." you said his name, blinking rapidly to will away another wave of tears.

The name vaguely rang a bell in Tim's head. He must have been someone they arrested before.

"After we arrested him a few months back, he-" you cut yourself off, fingers cramping around his. "He started to blackmail me with photos someone took of me... naked."

Tim's heart stuttered to a painful halt, eyes widening. Every single thought in his mind came to a stop as your words slowly sank in.

Blackmailed.

Photos of you.

Naked.

He swallowed heavily, that ugly feeling of guilt intensifying.

He should have noticed.

"He wanted me to erase things from his file." you continued, ripping him from his vile thoughts. "And when he asked of me to let a corpse disappear, I said no. Big mistake."

Despite the situation, you managed a humorless, dry laugh, but Tim wasn't in the mood for laughing.

No, he was far closer to breaking something.

Or someone.

"He let his guards 'teach me a lesson', as he said it. To show everyone what a shitty job I did. And he was right."

Tim's gaze snapped back to yours, having been glued to the blanket before. The chair made a nasty sound on the linoleum as he brought it ever closer.

Now he knew what you'd been hiding the past few months.

He would have done the same.

His head shook unbeknownst to him, and he wished he could take you into his arms, hold you close to shield you from all the horror in the world.

But you could barely move, your survival a sole miracle.

He brought your hand to his lips, unable to find the words to assure you everything would be fine.

He knew it wouldn't.

"I'm so sorry." you croaked out, biting your swollen lip as more tears fell. "I know I should have told you, but I was so scared. He said he'd end me if I told someone."

Tim swallowed again, bile rising in his throat at the thought.

Oh, how badly he wanted to have a chat with this man.

Though chat might not be the right word.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Then his fingers dug into his pocket, taking out the small, velvety box.

He turned it over in his hand before slowly opening it, taking the ring out. It glittered in the dim light, reflecting it.

Your eyes widened at the sight, recognizing it. You had admired it through the jeweler's window, knowing you'd never buy it, because it was way too expensive.

Seeing it now, crushed your heart.

He bad bought it for you.

Tim wiped at his nose before he took your hand, slowly putting the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Then his fingers encircled yours, holding them tight as he swallowed.

"We'll do this together." he said, looking up at you. "Whatever might come, we'll do it together. I'll fight Grey on it if need be, but you won't leave the LAPD."

Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your sight. The love you felt for this man was indescribable. And you could only hope you hadn't lost him with what you'd done.

"I love you." he spoke, licking his lip. It tasted salty, and he noticed that a tear of his own had managed to spill. "I promise you I'll be there whenever you need me. We can do this, whatever may come. You and I."

You sobbed, overwhelmed by his words. "I love you, too." you managed to say, not sure how you deserved him. "But I don't know how we'll do that."

He bit his lip, and for the first time since you had been missing, he smiled. It was a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Let me handle that."

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cherrycolored-punk · 2 months ago

Text

walking distance - E.M x fem!reader

Part of Stranger Prompts directly from the twilight zone organized by: @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing

“You step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.”

author’s note: this was so damn fun 🖤 I’ve always wanted to do one but was worried my writing wasn’t up to par. I hope you enjoy :)

w/c: 2.6k

warnings: none

‼️ THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI ‼️

The sun beats down on you, intense and overwhelming. Adding to the frustration you feel as you stare down at the guts of your car, watching steam billow from beneath the hood and unsure of what you’re looking at.

You let out an exasperated growl and reach for your phone, hurried fingers scrolling for your best friend’s name.

Her wedding was in two days, and you were supposed to be the maid of honor. You couldn’t afford the plane ticket from New York City to Indianapolis and decided to road trip it, hoping to the gods that your shitty Honda Civic would make it. But of course, it would betray you when you were nearly there.

There was a weekend of festivities planned, maid of honor duties you needed to attend to, and there was no telling when you’d be there now.

She answers on the second ring, and you waste no time.

“Hey, I’m going to be late,” you grumble, pushing away from the car and pacing in front of the bumper.

“What happened?” She can hear the thick annoyance in your voice.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips, and you point an absent hand to the car as though she can see it.

“My piece of shit car broke down,” you glance around at your surroundings. At the dense rows of trees and open fields.

“And in the middle of fucking nowhere!” Sweat trickles down your chest, and you wipe it away quickly, trying not to lose your shit.

“Where are you?” She asks, and you already feel bad that you’re bothering her with this. You turn the phone in your hand and place the call on speaker, switching the screen to the GPS app you’d been using.

“Says I’m in some town called Hawkins? About two hours out,” your shoulders deflate as you try to calculate the time it will take to even get this to a mechanic to look at. Three hours for a tow, however long for a fix, and you’d be lucky to make it in time to watch her come down the aisle.

“I’m so sorry, Jess.”

“We’ll get you here. I need you here,” she practically pleads, and you can already picture how her soon-to-be mother-in-law is driving her insane.

“Get somewhere safe and send me your location. Matthew will come pick you up with his tow.”

Her brother, the mechanic.

“He’s not gonna like that,” you chuckle, kicking a loose rock away from your path.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m the bride,” she enunciates the word dramatically, and you can’t help but laugh. She was far from a bridezilla, but she was willing to be one for you.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely and scroll on the map for a nearby restaurant or bar. Desperate for a drink after the road trip turned debacle.

“I’ll be at some bar called The Hideout? Closest thing to my car, about half a mile up the road,” you forward her your location and take her off speaker, pulling the phone to your ear.

“If I end up getting kidnapped by some inbred psychos like in Wrong Turn, you better not let them make a 20/20 episode out of me,” you joke as you reach for your purse and grab your keys.

“But what if I promised only the good photos?” She goes along.

“As long as you don’t say I lit up every room I walked into.”

“Why would I lie?” She teases and you can’t help the shocked laugh it elicits.

“Asshole,” you say affectionately, closing the hood of your car and pressing the key fob to make sure it’s locked.

“Can’t call me that on my wedding weekend,” she reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, I apologize, oh mighty one. I will only be a humble servant,” you exaggerate your voice to be meek and small, keeping up the charade.

“Shut up,” she giggles, and you can feel the roll of her eyes.

“Let me know when you make it,” she orders.

“Of course,” you promise and disconnect the line, legs picking up pace.

The road to the Hideout is much the same as the road to its city line; flat fields and rows of corn seemingly stretch on for eternity until they hit the tall evergreens in the distance. From the looks of it, that’s all Hawkins is: a stretch of corn and towering trees. It’s different than what you’re used to, quieter. You hadn’t heard a silence like the one that you felt now.

It would be peaceful if it didn’t feel so eerie, and you couldn’t explain why you felt that way, why the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, or why it felt like you were being watched.

A set of eyes you couldn’t locate watching your every move.

Your legs move faster, heart leaping when you see the building come into view. The sign bearing its name a little worse for wear but it was like a beacon on the long stretch of road.

The building itself is a little dilapidated and in major need of an overhaul. Its brown wood faded by years in the sun and slightly rotted in some spots. If the open sign didn’t glow, you’d assumed it was abandoned.

You swing open the door, a chill running through your back as the cold manufactured air hits your warm, sweat-slicked skin.

Faces turn toward you, curious gazes shifting over your frame before turning away from you.

A smoky haze fills the bar, the stench of tobacco and weed filling your lungs as you breathe in.

The interior is out-of-date; the red vinyl seats of the booths are cracked, their yellow stuffing overflowing. Records line the wall, and dollar bills hang where they are tacked sporadically to the ceiling. A red Coors Light sign glows in the distance.

You swat the air, trying to find a clean patch amongst all the smoke as your eyes dance around the bar suspiciously. Was it decades night?

Everyone is dressed in something you’ve seen in a John Hughes film. Big hair, bright blush, tight jeans. Some were dancing to a Madonna song playing on the jukebox in the corner of the bar. Others sat quietly along the bar.

You’re still staring as you slide onto the barstool, forearm pressed into the sticky wood of the bar.

“What can I get you?”

The bartender’s sudden appearance makes you jolt, and you place a hand on your chest as you turn toward the voice.

“Something other than the heart attack you just gave me,” you exhale loudly and meet his gaze. Doing your best to contain your shock.

He’s pretty, the kind of good-looking that leaves you a little breathless. It’s the curl of his hair, the line of his jaw, and the freckles pressed along his nose. It’s the way his cheeks are growing red the longer you stare and the cocky grin that slots into place when he notices you are.

“I can do that for the pretty girl,” he laughs, raising his eyebrows expectantly, and you shake your head of your reverie.

“Just a Dos Equis, dressed if you can.”

“Dressed?” He repeats.

“Yeah, uh, salt on the rim. Lime?” You move your hands in demonstration, miming the movements of prepping your drink, and he chuckles. Shaking his head at your display.

“Best I can do is a bottle of Bud Light,” he places a toothpick between his lips, and you swear it’s to torture you.

“Guess that’s what I’m having then,” you shrug, smiling sweetly, and tap your fingers against the bar.

“Coming right up,” the bartender turns his back to you, and you check your cell phone.

No service. Of course.

You groan and look up, eyes instantly running over his back appreciatively.

His black shirt fits him snugly and you can see the muscles of his back, the contours of his biceps bulging against the tight sleeves. The black jeans he wears fit him just right, showcasing the curve of his ass and the swell of his thighs. God, they didn’t make them like this in New York. Is it something in the water?

He turns back toward you with the bottle of beer. The glass already wet with condensation when he slides it toward you.

“How much do I owe you?” You reach for your wallet, and he shakes his head.

“Money’s no good here,” he dismisses you and leans against the bar. Closer to you. His gaze crawls over you, tracing the length of your legs and the flare of your hips before meeting your eyes.

“Well, I can at least tip you,” you pause, waiting for his name and trying to hide how his gaze affects you.

“Eddie,” he grins, toothpick sliding from one side of his mouth and to the other.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you repeat and slide the five-dollar bill towards him.

His eyebrow quirks, and you tilt your head curiously, following the direction of his gaze. It’s fixated on the money you slid him.

“What is it?”

He reaches for his wallet and pulls out a bill, placing it next to yours.

“Your money looks funny,” he pushes them towards you so you can see.

Your eyes dart between the two. His money looks brand new but bears little resemblance to the more colorful one you’d given him.

“You trying to give me Monopoly money or something?” He teases, and you roll your eyes.

“You just have an older bill,” you point to his money, giggle, and sip your beer. The malty, amber liquid slides across your tongue and settles into your empty stomach.

His gaze roams over your features again.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He gives a crooked smile, one that makes the dimple in his cheek deepen.

“What gave it away?” You chuckle and take another drink, eyebrow quirked as you wait for his response.

“Definitely don’t look like the girls around here,” he shakes his head and points his hand towards you.

“Oh?” Your brows push together. Not sure whether or not that’s a compliment.

“In a good way!” His words come out rushed, the suave demeanor he had faltering just a little.

“How is it good?” Your eyes squint in suspicion as you take another drink. Enjoying the way he squirms, maybe a little too much.

He glances over your form once more and then back at you.

“The clothes, the hair, fancy money. Gotta be one of those California chicks, huh?”

“Not even,” you shake your head, but a grin tugs at your lips, “I’m from New York. Just passing through for a friend’s wedding.”

Eddie lets out a low whistle.

“City girl,” he smiles and inches a little closer, “lucky me that you’re passing through.”

“Lucky you?” You repeat, trying to fight the smile behind the rim of your drink.

“Yeah, not every day we get a pretty face in here,” his voice lowers, “I usually see the same five drunks.”

His brown eyes dart to your left, and he eyes the older man sitting on the stool a few seats down. You almost choke on your drink and shake your head, but the man’s appearance reminds you of your surroundings. You glance around the bar.

“So, is everyone always this committed to the decades night?” You look back at him.

His face twists, puzzled, an absent hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“What do you mean?”

You point the mouth of your bottle absently towards the room.

“It’s like straight out of an eighties movie in here, feels like I’m in St. Elmo’s Fire or something,” you chuckle and look back toward him.

Eddie’s face is still contorted, confusion evident in the scrunch of his brow and the twist of his lips.

“That movie just came out, like, three years ago,” he chuckles but gives you a curious look as he wipes a rag against the counter.

“More like forty years ago,” you shake your head. They were really committed to the bit here.

“Got an interesting way of perceiving time there, sweetheart,” he shrugs incredulously and changes the subject.

“I know my way around a car if you want me to look at it,” he offers.

“Oh, it’s half a mile back. It’s okay,” you wave him off, but he’s already shaking his head.

“We can take my car. All my tools are in there anyways.”

“Are you sure?” You can feel the guilt twisting in your gut at the thought of accepting his offer. It’s mixed with the worry of getting into the car with a stranger—your earlier comment about 20/20 ringing in your head.

“‘Course,” he tilts his head towards the other bartender, “Brett can watch the bar while we’re gone.”

But there’s something about Eddie that doesn’t scream serial killer, a softness in his gaze that relaxes you. Has you nodding your head before the words come tumbling out.

“Yeah, okay,” your head bounces eagerly, and you chug the rest of the beer before hopping off the stool.

It was an opportunity to get to Jess’ wedding festivities sooner, though, now you kind of wanted to stick around. Wait until Matthew finally makes an appearance so you can spend a little longer getting to know Eddie.

He meets you around the bar, taller now that he’s standing beside you. The smell of his cologne warm and a little hypnotizing. He swirls his keyring around his finger and points toward the door.

“Lead the way.”

You grin up at him, taking a step in front of his tall frame and push open the doors.

The warm summer air greets you, the sky no longer a vivid blue but a deep indigo. You look around, confused. Headlights approach you, breaks slamming when the passenger window passes your fram. You recognize the truck, Matthew’s tow truck.

His work boots slam against the pavement, and he takes long strides in your direction.

“Jesus Christ! Where the fuck have you been?”

“W-what?”

“I’ve been calling you for half an hour, going up and down this goddamn street. Called you like forty times.”

You reach for your phone and stare at the screen, its face filled with notifications. Missed call after missed call and several texts.

“I was just getting a drink, didn’t have signal in the bar,” you point an absent thumb behind you, “Eddie here was going to help me get my car started.”

“Eddie?” Brett’s face screws in confusion.

“Yeah, Eddie,” you repeat and turn around. But no one’s there. The bar behind you silent, empty. Abandoned.

“What are you talking about?” The older man’s voice is laced with concern, “This town has been abandoned for nearly forty years since some major earthquake practically ripped it in half.”

“B-but I was just sitting in there talking. I just sat down,” you say with more conviction. You can still smell Eddie’s cologne, still hear his laugh, and taste the beer you were drinking. Your mind is reeling, trying to make sense of it.

“Think the heat got to you,” he laughs and shakes his head, “get in the truck, I’ll take you to Jess’.”

Your feet move towards the truck hesitantly, face turned towards the bar. It looks more run-down than before. The entry covered with cobwebs, stools toppled over, the bottles that lined the back wall of the bar cracked and broken.

The same eerie feeling settles over you, like you’re being watched. Like maybe you weren’t alone.

You climb into the truck and settle into the seat, staring absently out the windshield.

“I swear I was just in there drinking a beer,” you point a finger out the window and turn to him.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s encountered a ghost in Hawkins,” he shrugs and starts the car before turning back to you, “stranger things have happened.”

#strangerprompts #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

almonds, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You're having a really shitty day and it ends with Jeon Jungkook cumming on your ass. Oh, some stuff happens in the middle. You eat some almonds. Yeah.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; acquaintances-to-lovers; mentions of fasting (restricted eating for the day); reader is the hot girl bro of her friend group (yup); so much TENSION; JK is def a shy mess and reader teases him just because he's cute; smut w/o penetration (fem reader, semi-public sex in a rented photo studio space, m-receiving oral, handjob, fingering, forearm kink, nipple play, m-masturbation, cum-eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation); non-idol!BTS – hobbyist photographer!Jungkook x model?reader

“You seem annoyed.”

“Just had to tell someone I didn’t want to date them and then had to deal with a grown man’s hissy fit. Well, I guess that doesn’t make him grown, does it? Hmph. Anyway.”

You threw your jacket aside with too much force and exasperation. It flew off the chair and shot into Jeon Jungkook’s legs.

Oops.

“Um…”

“Sorry,” you muttered, hurrying over and yanking your black-and-scarlet leather bomber off the ground, dumping it firmly on the seat of the foldable chair. “Sorry. It wasn’t that serious. It was simply unnecessary and a waste of time. I also hate being late. Sorry, again.”

“N-No, I mean… we don’t have to do this today. If it’s too much trouble for you.”

You didn’t know Jeon Jungkook that well and yet here you were. You knew of him. He was friends with a lot of your friends, but both he and you were introverted and were the type to be in own your own worlds. There wasn’t much chance to interact with him and you didn’t think to. Also, your male friends got a little weird if other guys approached you too readily, even if they personally knew them. Some macho man shit or something. You didn’t know.

“It’s no trouble. Really.”

You rubbed your forehead and placed your backpack on the table. Maybe you needed a snack. No, now was not the time. You hadn’t eaten at all today. Specifically, for this. You didn’t know Jungkook well, but you did know he was helping another of your friends who was a tattoo artist. He had a photography hobby and he had tattoos done by said friend, so they asked him to take some artsy shots for their tattoo and piercing studio. Your forward helix was done by the same guy on a drunk night (not that the customers were going to know that… also the piercer was the drunk one and you were the sober one, so, honestly, who was the problem), and so were your double helix piercings (sober day and you paid him like a responsible human being), all on your right ear. Since you didn’t have tattoos, you didn’t think you would be asked, but.

As your friend put it, “I don’t want to look at only dudes on my walls. I’m sure my customers don’t either. I need at least one hot girl. Be a bro.”

Okay, bro.

“I was only trying to buy some almonds and I got accosted by this guy I was talking to, then I had to stand there through this guy’s sobbing as the register was malfunctioning and it was all very annoying,” you sighed, then put a pin in the (literal) sob story. It (he) was irrelevant anyway. “But I am free of him.... hopefully… and I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t expect that to happen today, hah, I simply wanted some fuckin’ almonds.”

You had bowed with your apology. Upon finishing your last remark, you yanked the small packet of almonds out of your bag and slapped them on the black canvas accusingly as if they were the ones that caused you a lot of trouble. As if it was the almonds’ fault, not some dude that couldn’t take the hint and comprehend that you didn’t want a relationship with him.

Maybe you male friends getting a little weird were on the right track.

Also, maybe you should stop trying to sneak behind their backs and meeting guys through apps.

Sigh.

The silence lasted a few seconds.

Then.

A very tentative, “You like nuts?”

You suddenly remembered Jeon Jungkook was standing next to you. Oh, right. “Ah, I heard models eat raw almonds on shoots to curb their hunger,” you chuckled sheepishly, looking up at him and realizing, once again, that there was a lack of closeness preventing you from being too comfortable. He was taller than you and was gazing at you with big, round eyes and a curious expression. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “Since I’m wearing a crop top, I didn’t want to…” You trailed off, hoping he understood.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, mussing up his hair. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been doing intermittent fasting so I would…”

Then.

Your eyes connected with Jungkook’s and you both stopped talking.

It was only then that you fully processed the man in front of you.

He was wearing a ribbed white tank top that very much showed off his built frame. Whenever Jungkook happened to be at the friend gatherings, he was the type to always wear baggy shirts and loose pants. You had heard before that he worked out a lot, but you had never really thought about it because he preferred to be a fabric mountain in public. Understandable that he enjoyed being comfortable. But now you were taken aback by the close-fitted top and his tapered, straight-leg, dark blue jeans, complete with messy black hair falling over his forehead and grazing the nape of his neck. He typically wore beanies and baseball caps at the get-togethers, probably to avoid styling his hair. All that to say that you weren’t prepared for Jeon Jungkook to look…

Like a model.

Yeah.

He seemed to sense your visual analysis and started, placing his arms over his chest awkwardly as if that was going to block anything. His arms were muscular too. There were no tattoos on his left arm – for now (you knew his type). His entire right arm was a sleeve of them. Deep black and vibrant color, lively tattoos that spread all the way up to his shoulder, ending with crowning petals resembling a floral mandala reaching almost to his collarbone. His hand even had a few small tattoos, the most notable being the sheepish emoji with the squiggly smile.

“Oh, y-yeah, I t-thought… er…”

You didn’t interrupt.

You simply stared at him.

It was unnerving him and it was beginning to greatly amuse you.

“I mean, to take photos of my sleeve and stuff… and you’re so… uh.”

You looked down at yourself. “You said I should wear black and white if I could.” Tight white cropped tank with a thicker, more rigid construction so you didn’t have to wear a bra. Exposed midriff and mid-rise black jeans with a slight flare to accommodate your high-heeled black ankle boots with silver buckles suggestively coffin-shaped.

Hey, you had to have some personality even in a bland outfit.

Jungkook was malfunctioning a little.

“Y… Yeah…”

He also had two rings pierced on the right side of his lip now. He only had one when you saw him last. When had he gotten the second? Your eyes tracked the silver hoops interestedly as Jungkook gulped, revealing the little mole underneath his lips. He had another one on his nose, several on his right cheek, and one on his neck. Hmmmm.

“I was thinking the m-majority of the photos would be black and white… and I would just take some shots of my arm in color later.,” he was saying, backing away from you and into the rented studio space, to the white backdrop and bright lights. There was a camera tripod and monitors set up already. In the center of the white background was a rectangular white pedestal. Probably to sit on to aid with posing. Everything was going to be torso up it seemed.

You followed him, scanning the room. “Oh, I should check my make-up, huh,” you thought out loud.

Sudden heat.

“No, I mean, it’s better if it’s natural, there’s a little–”

You were still standing absolutely motionless as Jungkook brushed his thumb against your left cheek, leaving a trail of prickling skin and a hot sensation pouring down your spine. When did he–? And what was with this earnest, concerned expression? Not quite making eye contact yet, but suddenly realizing what he had done as the silent seconds ticked by. His shaking irises slid towards you, immediately apologetic, but too embarrassed to speak.

Jaw completely slack, mouth open, completely frozen.

“I, um,” you coughed, waving a hand loosely. “It’s a mole. Next to my lip.”

It seemed, to the shock of neither party, that Jungkook had understood that way before you even said it out loud. Probably because he had attempted to wipe your moles away with his finger. Awkward. His thumb was still lingering by your ear.

“O… Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“I don’t really wear foundation,” you tried to clarify. “Only on special occasions.”

Jungkook’s face was quite close to yours. He had to bend down a little to be eye-to-eye. He was really staring, similarly to how you were analyzing his body earlier. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable and you didn’t view it as invasive since you had partaken in the same act earlier.

It was just…

Giving you a racing feeling throughout your veins.

“Your skin is so smooth and pretty already,” he murmured in that deep, dreamy voice of his, almost inaudibly, like he hadn’t meant to say it.

The tops of your ears were abruptly on fire. You had to force the word out.

“T… Thanks.”

You were still clutching the packet of almonds as if they were life support.

The sharp crackle of the plastic cut through the silence. Jungkook jerked, pulling his hand back, and you let out a silent breath, surprised at the suspension of the unpredicted moment. Both looking away from each other, and you didn’t dare look back to check how he was doing because you were internally scolding yourself. It was only the current circumstances. The way the chips fell today was throwing you off your game. You weren’t being professional, not that this was an overly professional setting, but you expected yourself to be professional or at least not intimidate the shit out of someone you were about to work with.

Wouldn’t want weird vibes the entire time.

You wanted to say you were sorry again, but it seemed unnecessary and you would rather show your apologies with action. You shoved the packet of almonds in your pocket.

Damn almonds.

“So, um, what would you like me to do? I’m not a model, but I can follow instructions.”

You forced yourself to face him and not make it weird. It wasn’t a shameful moment and there was no reason to act ashamed about it. At first, Jungkook didn’t move, big peepers and all, but you firmly walked over to the white background and stood there in front of the camera lens, seeing one of the monitors was facing you. You weren’t in focus. You backed up to the rectangular pedestal and now you were, skin glowing under the bright lights, looking inquisitive at the arrangement. Raised a hand. The image was flipped rather than mirrored. Ah, okay. You played with your reflection for a moment while Jungkook hurriedly went behind the camera and fiddled with the settings.

Neither of you said anything about the…

Uh.

Tension.

You left the spot for a moment to hurry back to your backpack. Water, extra clothes in case an outfit change was needed, pocket hand sanitizer for the bus, another package of almonds. You fished out your makeup bag and felt around, taking out the two black hair clips inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Lotus flowers. After a moment of consideration, you unhooked your white gold hoop earrings on your lower lobe piercing and put on the pearl lotus flower earrings you had brought with you. They were tiered and dangled on thin silver chains, waterfalling against your neck. You placed your other earring set in a small black velvet pouch and pocketed them in your right jeans pocket, just in case Jungkook thought the dangling ones were too distracting. As a last thought, you plucked the hand sanitizer from your bag and squirted some on your hands, rubbing them together swiftly.

You had messed with your piercings, after all.

You hurried back, pulling your hair away from your right ear, peering at the monitor. Tucked your hair behind your show ear and placed the hair clips accordingly so all your ear piercings were on display.

“Oh!”

“I thought it would be good to show off a little,” you mentioned absentmindedly, frowning as you noticed the chain connecting one of your helixes to your higher lobe piercing was tangled. You carefully pulled the strand of hair away and swept it back. Hadn’t thought of bringing hairspray, shit. Hopefully–

You froze, your hands framing your ear.

Looked up and Jungkook was gawking at your narcissistic use of the monitor.

“Ah, it’s just… there’s no mirror…” Your eyes shifted, rueful in your vanity. “I could go to the bathroom and…”

“N-No, it’s totally fine,” he sputtered. You sensed movement and looked back to see him waving his arms frantically. “I didn’t even think of any of these things, like accessories and hair and stuff… I was kind of hoping that you already knew what you liked… and stuff…”

Even though you weren’t originally close with Jungkook, there were parts of your personality that you just couldn’t hold back.

Like teasing.

“You said and stuff twice,” you snickered.

Immediately, Jungkook gave you this look of puffed cheeks and indignation. “Hey!” Then he seemed to realize his childlike outburst and flushed, shaking his head quickly. “Argh…”

You laughed, dropping your hands and relaxing your shoulders. Better to move along with this newfound tension than the previous one. You straightened and turned your body, right side with all your piercings facing the camera, the ornate earrings catching the light.

“Come on. Let’s start.”

You had thought it would be weird, modeling like this, but it was much easier since you weren’t supposed to look at the camera. With a purpose and your willingness to continue, Jungkook instructed you to tilt your head and move your body. It was quick considering it was primarily your right profile. He asked for movement of your hair and head so there was some life to the photos rather than just the stills. Once you sat on the pedestal and moved your head, he brought the camera tripod closer and stepped around it, holding the small remote in his left hand.

“I did a few solo shots before you arrived,” he was saying, concentrated on the task at hand. “Just to test lighting and stuff. Do you want to review? Or should we move on?”

“Do you like at least one of them?” you chuckled, turning your head back.

Jungkook was bent over the table, bringing the wireless mouse over so he could change the window and scroll through what was taken. You had a brief moment of looking at his shoulder blades and back muscles before ripping your gaze away, seeing your own face in a filter of black and white. Oh. It hadn’t really sunk in that this was photography until this moment. You almost didn’t recognize yourself.

Was that you?

Whoa.

“This one is good. And this one.”

Lips. Jawline. Lowered lashes. Hair curling along the other shoulder, creating that kind of wild devil-may-care fantasy. The choice of mother-of-pearl shone even in the black-and-white. For some reason you had thought of your role in this as quite small – Jungkook was the tattooed one, after all – but there was a mood created here. Calm yet definitive. On the edge of rebellious.

Maybe you had been chosen for more than just being the bro hot girl.

Hm.

“Do you think we need more?” you asked, not knowing the answer.

Jungkook chewed on the left side of his lower lip, puffing his cheek cutely. A thinking face. “I don’t think so? There’s going to be mostly drawn art and finished tattoo photos on the walls. As far as I know, our full-body pictures are going to be blown up but used very sparingly. We’re just there to be pretty.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “So, you think you’re pretty.”

You saw his shoulders flinch. “T-T-That’s just what I was told,” he stammered, tongue-tied.

“It’s okay, I think you’re pretty,” you casually interrupted. “Then this is probably enough. How do you want to pose for the couple photos?”

“C-C-Couple?”

You took a second to stare at yourself for another moment and turned your head, lifting your gaze. Not trying to make it weird. Round, dark brown eyes with curls of black hair over his brows. Lips parted and quickly shutting as you made eye contact. Someone was silently telling themselves to get a grip.

Well.

You were about to get close.

“Um…”

It was already weird just standing in the frame with him. Deep breath. It would be no good to stand here like self-made scarecrows. Come on. It wasn’t like you would be forced to interact with him every day after this. Plus, you already started with a bad impression. The sooner you finished, the sooner you would be able to go home and treat this like any other day.

Right?

“What about…”

You backed up. Jungkook squeaked but you ignored it, taking his right arm and placing his hand on your left shoulder so it crossed over your body and he held you against his torso. Again, you didn’t have to look at him or the camera. You only took a moment to adjust his forearm and not think about how solid it was before turning your head to the left and pulling back your shoulders to lift your chest.

Your ass touched the front of his pants.

Ahem.

You tapped his thigh impatiently.

“Ah, r-right…”

You tried not to think about how deep his voice was or how you could feel his chest vibrate from the tops of your shoulder blades against his pecs. Nope. You heard the sound of the camera and tilted your head again, raising your chin, and did not think about how nice he smelled. Like fresh laundry detergent but not overpowering. You swept your hair back so your collarbones were bare, putting your hair between him and you.

Jungkook angled his body so he wasn’t chest-to-back anymore.

Oh.

Then you attempted not to stiffen as his arm slid across so that his elbow was above your breasts, no, pressed against them, the grip on your shoulder tightening and suddenly his bicep and forearm were pushing your tits together through your crop top.

Um.

The right side of his body pressed against your back and you felt his breath against the crown of your head, his chin resting on you, um, but still you didn’t say anything, his leg shifting forward and now his thigh was pressed to your ass and the back of your leg, UM?!, and Jungkook exhaled, slow and with a shudder.

You did not interrupt.

Stood shock still.

It didn’t so much bother you as it confirmed some things.

“Ah, s-sorry, I should have as–”

“It’s fine,” you replied automatically, not wanting to get into it, glancing at the monitor. The preview was small but even at this distance it was effective. Worth it. “Do whatever you think would give a good result. We have to try things,” you muttered, untangling yourself a little. “Let’s…”

Fuck it.

You turned around.

For a brief glimpse, you spotted Jungkook’s shocked expression, but you avoided it, planting your hands on his waist. No, that wouldn’t do. Your arms felt like they were in the way. You slid them back, over his sides and up, fanning your fingers out. Centimeters between your body and his. His right arm was now along your back, but only loosely, and with his musculature it wasn’t laying quite right if you kept this current distance between each other. You could tell from the way his upper arm was positioned against your shoulder.

You pressed to him.

Chest to chest.

Angled your head so your cheek faced his face and your eyes fixated to the side, not looking at him. But you could feel him. Feel the shallowing of his breath against your cheekbone. Feel the solidness of his body in your arms. Feel his shoulder muscles under your fingertips tense. Like you were really hugging him, except you weren’t.

Not really.

Right.

“Put your arm around me,” you said softly but firmly.

“T-This…?”

“With your thumb in my right back belt loop.”

You felt Jungkook’s entire body stiffen.

“E-Eh…?!”

Your eyes darted to the side and you glared at him from your peripheral vision, seeing beautiful expressive eyes far too close but never mind that. “Come on. It’s a tattoo and piercing shop. Provocative, remember?” You looked away again, to your right. Steeled your voice and sharpened it. You could feel the damn almonds in your left jeans front pocket. You should have put them in your bag.

For fuck’s sake.

“Do it.”

You had asked him to do it but you still weren’t prepared for his fingertips to brush the top of your ass and his palm rest against your hip. You lifted your pelvis away from him, pressing more into his torso, involuntarily closing your eyes. Too weird to stare out wide-eyed anyway.

“Just tell me when you’ve taken it.”

Seconds that felt like hours.

You could tell he was taking the photos. You felt his arm shift. Tilt. Another. His hand moved up and you managed not to shiver. Nudging your head with his nose. You followed the movement obediently. You weren’t going to make this any weirder than it already was. His touch barely on your hot skin. Held your breath.

“O… Okay.”

You moved back and you felt Jungkook also release a tense exhale. He didn’t back away from you though. You tried to think of another pose. Maybe if you just laid your hand on his shoulder as if you were about to walk past him and.

Wait.

You jerked back as Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest and yanked his white tank top up and over his head. Arms flexed, tan skin and inked patterns. You bit back the surprised sound that threatened to escape, looking away quickly and snapping your jaw tight.

“Wha–What are you doing?” you forced out as evenly as you could, snapping your head as Jungkook flung the article of clothing aside like it was goddamn litter. Um, hello? You gawked after it as it skidded across the floor, missing the table just so.

“Shit, I missed–”

You whipped your head back and Jungkook froze, as if he only now noticed you were real human being and not a prop. Now you were aimlessly standing there with a shirtless Jeon Jungkook that you had been getting closer to, but wasn’t this too close, he was too fit and attractive to…

To?

Oh, fuck.

You really hoped he hadn’t noticed your glance at his hard dark nipples and toned abs. It wasn’t exactly something you could ignore. You weren’t curious. Really. His pecs were right in front of your face. Still, you didn’t want to be seen as disrespectful or creepy.

Your jaw was slack.

On cue, an inappropriate thought popped into your head.

And you said it, because, well, you never missed an opportunity to tease.

“This is exactly how all porno vids start, Jungkook.”

Oh, come on. Not that casual tone. And why did you add his name with familiarity like that? That was so unnecessary. Now he was turning fifty shades of red. Great. None of that helped. Of course not. And you chose the crass term over adult films. Maybe you were too much of a bro. You cleared your throat and looked away, trying to break the tension with a soft chuckle.

And, of course, you both spoke at once.

“Ah, why did you…?”

“I mean, you said provocative, so,” Jungkook blurted out way too fast. “I had fasted because I thought it would be good to take off my… uh…” And now you witnessed the processing of that idea in real time. Hm, taking off your shirt for a photoshoot? Great idea. Taking it off in front of a woman you only kind of knew? Er. And in front of a woman that he…

You looked at him.

Jungkook immediately shut up.

You could see he was mildly regretting yeeting his tank top so far.

This couldn’t end if you didn’t get a grip. So, you got a grip and stepped up, half of your body covering his chest, your left side to his left side. You saw him stiffen, but you ignored it, looking straight ahead to the white paper backdrop behind him. Told yourself to breathe. Then you turned your head and you were staring at Jungkook’s left ear. He had three earrings on this side, but they were plainer compared to the five thicker huggies on his left. He stood shock-still, unsure of what to do even though this was his idea.

“Turn your arm so it shows the tiger lily.”

His head jerked and suddenly Jungkook was looking back at you.

You were so close that you could see his moles clearly, especially the one underneath his soft parted lips.

“You… You noticed the tiger lily?”

It was on the inside of his forearm. You had seen the vibrant orange under your lashes and immediately recognized the distinctive shape. You stared into those chocolate irises, barely moving your lips.

“You like them?” you whispered.

Your breath and his breath, mixing.

“It’s… It’s my birth flower…” Jungkook mumbled, dream-like.

He was both a striking and adorable man.

You smiled.

Not breaking eye contact.

“Take the photo.”

A second of hesitation.

“Ah, r-right.”

But Jungkok didn’t look away.

You felt his left hand by the bulge in your jeans pocket. Those damn almonds. Felt him press the button and wondered why the fuck you were still carrying deez nuts, but those thoughts came and went, not dawdling because you were under Jungkook’s gaze. Not overbearing, not trying to feel you out, but, rather, relaxing as you watched him, curious. That was the word.

Curious.

You leaned in closer, pressing your hip to his.

These goddamn almonds.

Placed your fingertips on his collarbone, casting shadows over his neck and jaw.

His chin tilted down, and now your lashes were lowering and so were his. Heavy with a mood. Acting. Just acting, you reminded yourself. Your brow barely touched his. Nearly nose-to-nose. You felt his hand shift a little, but at this point that was his job to press the button and your job to pretend like this chemistry was natural. His scent really was lovely. His sheets must smell just like him. Must be nice to lay in them and wake up with him beside you.

You whispered into the still air between you and him.

“I don’t really like this side of my face,” you murmured.

Those dark eyes flickered to yours.

“Looks good to me,” Jungkook said delicately.

Your fingertips slipped over the curve of his muscle.

He gasped under you and he tried to hide it, letting his eyelids slide shut. He couldn’t see you now. Couldn’t see you tilt your head just a little more. The faintest movement. His hair brushed against your forehead and temples. The distance between your lips and his was so narrow that you could feel the metal of the silver rings as you spoke once more.

“You can’t hide from me just because you close your eyes.”

A moment of closed lids.

Then.

Those brown irises rising beneath coy lashes.

A second.

You took a step back, mid-smile.

Jungkook’s right hand shot out and gripped your waist, pulling you back.

It happened all at once. The wispy exhale leaving your lungs. The warmth of his touch and strength of his tug making you collide with his body. Your hand stopping yourself, pressed against his sternum, molding to the curves. Your face suddenly centimeters from his, a soft gasp falling from your lips, and those round brown eyes went wide as if he only now realized that actions have consequences, as if this wasn’t the expected result, as if his bold move wouldn’t be met by a bolder one.

The movement had been so fast that strands of his black hair were still falling back onto his forehead.

You angled your head and kissed him.

Not the quick flitting peck that toyed with emotions but the press-to-heart, inhale-and-caress kiss, your hand sliding down, the pad of your middle finger stopping on his nipple. Not moving it, but he shivered against your touch, muffled whine under your lips, and your other hand grazed his hip, fingers dancing along the waistband of his jeans. No hesitation. Mature and sensual, his hair against your temples, yours whisking over his arm, your crotch to his hip.

You moved your left thigh forward.

Jungkook yelped into your mouth and drew back, his cheeks flushing pink.

Your hand slid across his bare back and pulled him back against you. You and him now entangled in a ying-yang embrace, no one able to escape. Traced a circle around his hard nipple and you could feel the trembling against your chest, hear the sharp inhale, watch him bite back a whimper. Your lips and breath followed his jaw as you spoke.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”

His hand on your waist tightened.

You raised an eyebrow to his stunned expression that seemed more like a cover-up than it was honest. Not a cover-up for ill intentions, no. He was trying to hide something else. Excitement. Ah, that wasn’t it either. You stared into those expressive eyes. Read him like a book. He was…

You smiled.

Pressed your thigh against the hard bulge between his legs.

Jeon Jungkook was horny.

“I…” He completely paused with his mouth open. You waited, dancing your nails over his spine. “I was… I was going to…” His face was getting redder. He was still clutching you, his expression telling you that he couldn’t believe that you had taken that last moment from him. You ticked your head.

Challengingly.

“Go on then. Kiss me like you mean it.”

You wouldn’t have held it against him if he didn’t. Wouldn’t have been salty about it. You could be wrong, after all. Could be, but weren’t, because Jungkook’s brows furrowed, a spark of annoyance flaring through his expression. Flint to flame. You tilted your head back. Making him reach for it.

A sliding clatter.

Your head whipped to follow the sound. The small camera remote shot behind your bodies, hitting the backdrop, stark black against white, and then you felt strong fingers slide into your hair, turning you back to a playful smirk adorned with two silver lip rings.

Jungkook kissed you.

A little bit of desperation, a lot of defiance, and the electric taste of uncertainty, the fear of coming on too strong, but you did him one better, rolling your body into his and pressing back to him. Breathing in his scent, running your fingertips over his skin. Hooking two fingers on his belt loop and pulling him closer even though he couldn’t be any physically closer. It wasn’t enough. The tip of your tongue flitting between his lips, gently asking for more.

His sweet gasp addictive, saturated with the wind of the butterflies in his heart.

You ran your thumb along the top of the waistband, stroking his hot skin, and slipped your tongue into his mouth. His tongue brushed up against yours, sending a delicious wave of shivers through your chest, and you exhaled into his throat, low and slow, tasting him, savoring his quivering whimper, trapped in the heat under bright lights and electric tension. His left hand cupped your head, deepening the kiss, more, another, tongue against tongue, body against body, pulse beating in harmony.

You broke the kiss, but only to breathe and cross your arms.

Pulled up, inside out, stripping off your top and casting it out of the way, your hands already taking Jungkook’s wrists before it hit the ground. He stared down, wide-eyed, sputtering, and you pressed his palms to your sides, shivering at the contact of another. Guided him up, up, gliding your fingers over his and closing them around your breasts.

Jungkook gawked at you, jaw completely slack.

You smirked. “Wanna take a photo like this?”

His eyes narrowed. A touch possessive. It made your smirk grow.

“Fuck no.”

Your chuckle was cut off by another one of his kisses, respectively hard and soft from his piercings and his lips, insistent and heated. His hands squeezing, and you sighed approvingly, letting go so he could explore, running his fingers over your hard nipples. Moaning with you, kiss after kiss, breaking the chain to look down and awe at the way his hands framed your breasts, following the curve, pushing your large nipples with his index fingers, and he groaned, his eyes hazy, kissing you again, harder, hips to hips, that hard bulge fitting between the space of your thighs. Rolling his body into yours, chasing your lips despite you not moving away. Pleas hidden in his thin breath. You hooked a leg around his thigh and you saw his eyelashes flutter, moaning into your mouth, needy and wanting.

“What’s wrong?” you purred.

Grinded against him, lightly thrusting, way past suggestion at this point, stings of pleasure racing through you as his fingers flicked at your nipples, those brown irises glassy and unfocused, struggling to get his bearings.

“O-Oh… fuck…”

You fanned your fingers over his sides, sliding down his shapely back, your touch slipping under the top of his jeans.

“Don’t you wish?”

A shadow of confusion, but you simply rocked his hips into yours, digging your nails into the top of his ass and making him gasp, pressing up against you. Your lips hovering over that trembling mole under his lips, placing a single chaste kiss on his skin.

Airy chuckle.

“I didn’t plan to fuck you, so I didn’t bring protection or anything,” you explained, bouncing your breasts into his muscular chest. “I’m sorry but I can’t take that risk just because you’re cute and I like the way you taste.”

His defeated whine was too delicious to resist.

“But.”

You wanted to feel this heat a little more. Stare into those eyes a little longer. Too fast, other people would say. Fuck off, you would say. Those large brown eyes, that dreamy curious expression, that racing feeling from two electric hearts entangled with lustful friction down below, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I have some ideas of things we can do.”

You led him back, making him lean against the rectangular pedestal.

“Poses, if you will.”

The way Jungkook smiled make the world sparkle with mirth.

“You cool with that?” you asked, not wanting to continue if there was no desire. His erection threatened to rip his damn jeans, and yet you wanted to hear him say it. Took his hands from your chest and placed them behind him, helping him catch the corners so he didn’t topple over. Placed your hands over his, stroking his knuckles. You lifted your head and Jungkook caught your gaze.

Biting the side of his lower lip and wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

“I’m cool with you.”

Couldn’t help but smirk, leaning in. Lips and tongue and the slow fuck of his soft mouth, devouring his whines as you traced his body lines. His thighs. His sides. Down the center of his chest, your fingertips grazing, your lips leaving his and feathering down his neck. The tremble of his pecs now under your kisses, even the raging beat of his heart, his shallow breath skipping as your tongue tasted him, intoxicated by his scent and the way his body followed your every touch, wordlessly begging for more.

His moan was low and throaty, tapering to a whimper as you unbuttoned his jeans.

Unzipped them, breathing hot over his clothed section, pressing your lips to the strained fabric.

“P-Please…”

Even here, he smelled intentionally clean. Pure. Physically, anyway. Mentally, you doubted it, mostly because Jungkook was practically humping your face in impatience as you wiggled the top of his jeans down his tense thighs.

“Please… anything you want… please, please, do it…”

You pushed his black boxer briefs down.

Washing a burning hot exhale over taut skin and straining veins, making sure to look up at him to see Jungkook checking to see if you were satisfied with what you discovered, then immediately turning red when you caught him, tucking his chin against his shoulder to avoid your gaze. Black hair falling over his eyes. Biting his lip hard, trying to keep his cool.

You licked the dark red head expectantly.

His hips bucked. Gasp torn from his lips. The strong taste spread over your tongue, pre-cum and lust, and you cocked an eyebrow as Jungkook carefully ticked his head back, looking down at you from his peripheral vision, the left side of his lower lip caught between his teeth. He was a sizeable length and girth. Nothing you couldn’t handle and dismantle.

You closed your lips around the swollen head and teased the slit.

“Nrgh…hah…”

Tongue swirling, taking him deeper. Slow, wet, running wet muscle up and down from tip to base, rubbing that thin skin just under the head with persistent pressure and then all the way down to flick out against his balls. Hard then soft. Fuck. That prickling sensation sliding down your back was not a good sign. Molding your tongue to his cock, taking him deep, digging your own grave in the way that everyone hoped for when touching someone for the first time.

The taste, the scent, the lust.

The earnestness of him trying to hold himself back, wanting to succumb to your tight mouth and persistent desire rather than heedlessly chase his own pleasure. Trusting you and trusting that you could get him there.

Fuck.

You wanted to hiss, have some common sense, but your mouth was full of his dick so that wasn’t happening.

“You’re so hot, oh, fuck… fuck…”

Glanced up and saw Jungkook was staring down at you, your face, your tits, your knees planted down firmly. Your hands were on his thighs, keeping him steady as you took him in your mouth, deep to hit your throat and squeeze around the head, up across the roof of your mouth with your tongue rubbing against the underside, your lips catching at the base of the tip and brushing against the throbbing skin, his moan hitching, so sexy, so dreamy, so sublime in its rawness, unfiltered and untainted by expectation.

Well.

You hadn’t expected to suck off Jeon Jungkook in the middle of the photoshoot either.

Life finds a way.

There wasn’t room or time to laugh at your inappropriate thoughts so you went back to focusing on keeping that pressure, that building pace, pulling your shoulders back and driving them forward to diffuse the impact of the force you were exerting. Close, hearing it in his rough voice. Seeing his head tilting back, black hair and tan skin glimmering with sweat. His toned chest flexed, his shoulders strained, and suddenly you realized that it was your name in that needy, desperate tone. Your name falling out of shaking lips, followed by so good, fuck, you’re so good. Your name melting into his moan, filling his lungs, each breath drenched with potent, carnal desire. You were used to that.

What you weren’t used to was this sudden unbearable craving to hear Jungkook say it again.

And again.

Him, specifically.

Fuck.

He came with a groan, his head falling so far back that you could barely see his face, his hips thrusting up and your lips closing in. Thick spurts, messy spasms, squishing saliva and cum into the back of your throat. Strong and surprisingly delicious. An obvious tingle dispersing up the insides of your spread thighs, the pulse of his shuddering length mirroring your lower body.

Want me more.

Licking all around, swallowing, gripping his shaking hips so he couldn’t escape you, encouraged by his delicate but still compliant whimpers. There was an undertone here. How long? How long had he felt these sparks? How long had he dreamed for them to become fire? Was it after your bodies had touched or after you walked in and took off your jacket?

Before that?

You pulled back, your tongue lingering, swirling around his stiff, twitching length.

Those glassy brown eyes would tell you anything right now.

“I don’t want to stop here,” you murmured, staring into the windows of his soul.

“Please, d-don’t…” Breathless, panting, erotic. “I–”

Your fingers wrapped around his girth and pumped him.

“A-Ah!”

Calmly leaned in and curled your tongue around his balls, scooping them into your mouth, all while twisting your hand. Base to tip, creating a tight seal with the residual saliva. He wasn’t prepared. You could visibly watch the ecstasy ripple up from his core to his shocked expression, his eyes rolling back and his head falling, flushed lips quivering, hardly breathing as you held both with his balls with your lips and danced your tongue over them. Rapid strokes. Wet slick. Switching from one and then the other, humming to provide a strumming vibration. Changing the direction of your tongue and the pressure of your lips before switching again, from left to right, all the while keeping a firm, steady pace on his cock.

“Oh, s-shit, what, a-aaah… Your m-mouth is insane, wha…?”

Chasing a feeling.

His high and maybe it could be your pride, your ego, whatever. Sin. The immense satisfaction of watching someone unravel. Jungkook made it beautiful, surreal with his deep but clear voice, dreamy with his hard body lines and soft trembling against you, trying so hard to be so good and not disturb your hard work so he could get the most out of it.

So he could savor your desire for him.

So he could bask in it.

So he could want it more.

“I-I, ah, I’m gonna cum again, please, please, please let me cum in your mouth, ple–”

The fuck was Jeon Jungkook so stupid hot for?

The slight irritation must have shown on your face and it did nothing to stop him, his head snapping back and suddenly he was burning under your gaze. You popped your mouth off and left a trail of spit down his legs, sliding your tongue out to hover under the dark purple-red head of his throbbing cock, pushing him to the edge, hard, fast, racing, I’m so close, you’re so sexy, oh, fuck, that racing prickling down your spine and a heady haze invading all your thoughts, the kind of haze that made you forget common sense, forget the earlier events of the day, and forget even the previous apprehension of being so close to someone you didn’t know too well.

Now you knew a lot.

Heh.

He could see it and you could feel it, the warm streak streaming across your tongue, another splattering before you pressed the flinching head to your mouth, hearing his ragged moan and hiking whimpers, oversensitive and overstimulated and willfully drowning in it, feels so fucking good, your lips are so soft, a-ah, swallowing and grazing your lips over him, faint but so wet, sucking off your saliva and replacing the wetness with kisses, making his body twist and writhe, unable to take it all but wanting to, needing to so damn bad that he thrust into your face, smearing your cheek with leaking cum and spit.

Jungkook moaned so fucking loud that you swore security was about to walk into the rented studio space and catch you pinning him down.

“Hey, hey,” you chided, crawling back up his body, gripping his shoulders. “Don’t lose your mind–”

His lips collided with yours and silenced your words, lip piercings electrifying the contact, kissing you again and again, surely tasting himself but you had no time to warn or complain, suddenly feeling hurried hands fumbling with your jeans, slipping, stumbling, too much haste and too much lust, mumbling against your lips.

“Stop me, stop me if you don’t want it,” he was saying and there was no need, but you appreciated him saying it all the same, fighting with his grasp to undo the fastenings yourself, and then his fingertips found your hot skin. You sucked in a tight breath. Jeans heavy enough to fall down your thighs, and then two fingers hooking on each side of your barely-there, bikini-cut black panties, a second and then gone, now shivering at the rush of cool air on your damp heat.

The moment before he touched you.

Your gaze caught his under lashes, and his eyes shifted back up to you, his lips brushing against yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this fast and this bad,” he gasped.

Honestly, you couldn’t really think about anyone else but Jeon Jungkook right now.

“Me neither.”

You grabbed his right hand and shoved two of his fingers into your pussy.

Middle and ring finger, gasping at the full feeling and the slick ease, pushing him up to his knuckles right away. The response was immediate. His eyes widening, your inner walls closing in around them, your juices dripping onto the silver ring on his index finger, hoping he was okay with that. Thankfully, it was a plain band so there wasn’t much irritating friction when you began to roll your hips into his hand. He thrust upwards, shooting a wave of pleasure through you, and you snapped your head up, exhale laced with the sting of hunger.

“S-Sorry, I got excit–”

You grabbed his head and shut him up, driving his fingers into you to indicate the deep and intense pace you desired before diving into his lips, catching his tongue and sucking on it. You had expected him to be strong and he did not disappoint. It was a rough ride and you rode it with ease, with wild greed, with commitment of your full body, hips and back and teasing his tongue, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his hard forearm just in case you needed to tell him to adjust or stop.

His muscle was like iron.

You glanced down, seeing ink shadowed by your vicious grip. He must work out. Had to with this amount of control and how hard he was flexing right now. Looked back up and Jungkook was watching you, curious of your attention shift, and then you felt his forearm pulse.

Teasing you.

A flash of mischief in those dark brown orbs.

You narrowed your eyes and nipped at his lower lip.

Still felt him smirk though.

Punk.

But there was no time, inhaling sharply as you came in violent pulses, your pussy molding around his fingers and squeezing tightly. Your slick juices sticking to the inside of your thighs despite his hand being there, your skin tingling hot even with the aggressive air conditioning, your lips pressing into his. Shuddering, eyes closing, heartbeat pounding in your throat, alive.

Fuck.

“F… Fuck…”

Jungkook didn’t scold you about your unladylike language, at least.

“Can I…?”

He asked you something but the afterglow was leaving you lust-drunk, simply agreeing and turning around. His wet fingers trailed over your hip, your thigh, and then back to where they had been between your legs. His other hand on your lower abdomen, pressing your ass back and you finally understood, half-smiling when you felt his semi-hard cock sliding between the dip in your ass. His whimpering gasp, letting go of your torso to adjust himself behind you. Now the wet head was tucked in the space just under your tailbone. An obscene scene, his two fingers sliding back into your pussy, ah, so full, and his hand returned to your chest, pinching your nipples. His forehead hit your shoulder, forcing you to arch your back.

His moan heated your shoulder blades, desperation pitching as he rolled his hips into your ass.

“F-Feels so good, your skin is so soft–”

You reached back and pushed the sides of your ass together, creating a deeper channel.

“A-Ah, oh, fuck, fuuuuuuuck…”

You were about to say something but then you realized the camera was still on.

The remote was meters away so no photos were being taken. The monitor was still on though, and you could clearly see yourself with Jungkook’s left hand all over your breasts, your hard nipples pinched and tugged at, his tattooed forearm over your lower belly and crotch while you held your ass in position for his hardening cock to rut behind you.

Your hair was a gotten mess, leaving your face in tangled shadow.

The top of his black hair was balanced on your shoulder.

His forehead was pretty damn sweaty but you didn’t even care.

His hand between your legs slipping, the two fingers now atop your swollen clit, rubbing softly, harder, your voice hoarse with exertion, and he did exactly as you asked, building up the pace, your nipples stiffening even more at his actions and causing sparks to dance in your blood, your breath shallowing, falling into it, letting go, your hair tumbling back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes, diving into the pleasure, wave after wave, feeling him harden against you, his strong thighs behind yours, somehow holding you up through sheer willpower.

You gasped his name, delicate and breathless, and Jungkook moaned behind you.

Slick becoming slicker, the scent of sweet-sour lust saturating the air, sticking to the insides of your thighs.

Should have brought a damn condom.

His hand left your tingling chest and you felt the head of his cock throb, smearing even more pre-cum between your ass. The aftershocks of orgasm stung through you, leaving you faint and woozy. He kept rubbing against your skin, rock-hard, whimpering, mumbling under his ragged breath.

It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.

“Can I… Can I cum on your ass? Please? Please, I…”

Was it possible to fall in love with someone for being an insatiable horndog?

You had to laugh. It sounded more like an airless wheeze. Nice. If that didn’t lock him down, you next words had to be the ticket.

“Are you a freak?”

You turned around to face him and Jungkook shrugged, chewing on his lower lip.

“I am now?” he admitted in uncertain question.

You grinned. “Lucky you, ‘cause so am I.”

Then you pointed to the active monitor to remind him that the camera was, in fact, still on, enjoying every second of his face turning shades of deeper and deeper pink with his hand still around his hard dick. He had such adorable wide-eyed shock. You yanked him up, both of you still entangled with your pants down your shins, and yet it was just a fun obstacle at the time (although much later you would wonder why you hadn’t simply kicked them off). Shuffled to switch places, balancing your lower abdomen and crotch on the top of the rectangular pedestal, bending over with your ass in the air.

This was probably the best action this studio was getting in its entire existence.

Blessed, truly.

You turned your head to make sure you were in frame, not putting much pressure but just enough to not fall over, arching your back to have your breasts look their best, exposing their full perky shape, reaching back to spread your pussy lips for Jungkook to look at as he jacked off.

You were, as they say, a generous sex goddess.

“W-Woah!”

You smirked as his attention was completely diverted from the equipment, forgetting to be embarrassed, his jaw dropping as you flexed your opening, letting out a shaky breath as you heard the wetness echo in the silence. Tightening your core, releasing, and you could see his grip tense, moving, his lashes lowering. The pleasure was palpable from the heavy scent of sex to the sound of hand on taut skin. Jungkook was standing slightly beside your legs, every so often grazing the dripping, tender head to the top of your ass, moaning wantonly at the contact. You could clearly see the rapid movement of his arm, could sense the speed and power and desperation, fiercely chasing orgasm with his eyes roaming over your back, ass, pussy, back up to the monitor to stare at your obviously hard nipples, and if someone walked in right now you would most certainly snarl at them to wait for Jungkook to finish.

They would probably be too shell-shocked at this literal porno-vid-to-real-life to even say anything but never mind that.

You stiffened reflexively as you felt his searching fingers glide over your slit. Checked and his eyes were rolling back, groaning as he felt your muscle control, mumbling something about wanting to put his cock in your pussy so bad, not right now, I can’t, I can’t, I w-wouldn’t last, a-ah, I have to be good for you, shivers racing through your body at the suggestion, a craving created, and you gave in, sighing dreamily, his finger circling your sensitive clit, the pulse thudding under his touch, and you moaned for him, asking for it.

Which was how you ended up orgasming again with Jungkook stroking your clit and shooting out a stream of hot cum over your ass, pitching forward and smearing it up your back.

Dripping all over you.

“D-Don’t stop…” you gasped out.

Not shying away from the overwhelm and instead aching for it.

His fingers pumped in and out of your wet tightness, your walls spasming at the extended pleasure, barely registering him lifting himself up so he didn’t crush you into the pedestal, rocking your hips back so he struck deeper, harder, and then you yelped, hazy vision clearing suddenly at the feeling of hot tongue to your back.

The surprise made you freeze as you spotted Jungkook in the monitor.

His dark eyes followed yours as he licked his cum off your ass, devious mouth trailing kisses.

Well.

Shit.

An intense high bolted through you and you gasped, knees buckling, pussy clenching around his fingers and throwing your head back, drawn-out moan bursting out of your lungs, clutching the corners for balance and perhaps just to orient to reality, the impossibility and sinfulness of the situation blossoming into a vicious orgasm that crawled up your legs, your arms, chewing throughout your lungs, mounting pleasure as Jungkook pulled a finger out to press against your clit.

He must have felt it.

His warm moan heating your lower back, the delicate pad of his fingertip sensing the brutality of the throbs ransacking you. Even you were witness, the camera monitor revealing everything, seeing the tendons of your neck pop and your collarbones prominent. Lashes low, pink tongue sliding out of your flushed lips, the memory of his unique kiss lingering and making you dream of him already.

You had run out of witty things to say.

Thoughts in general currently obsolete.

“H-Hah…”

Your hands slid down, still shaking from the fallout of the afterglow.

“L-Let me… Let me go to the bathroom and get you something to c-clean up,” Jungkook panted, attempting to get to his feet very unsteadily. You made a noise of agreement, breathing hard although not very loudly, pushing your hair back. It was doomed. You were hunched over and the tousled wave simply fell back, but you let it be because at the moment post-nut clarity was setting in.

Bro.

You just fucked Jeon Jungkook in the middle of the photoshoot.

Pushing off, standing on legs that had the structural integrity of soft tofu, wondering why you also had brains of soft tofu as well. For fuck’s sake. What happened to getting a grip? You yanked at your jeans, not quite pulling them all the way up yet. How old were you now? Surely true adults aren’t this deranged. Surely over the years you would have learned to not fuck a guy you barely knew. And completely sober!

Your stomach growled.

The hunger was not only sexual, it seemed.

Your hand hit the left pocket of your jeans. The crunch of plastic. You frowned, reaching in and pulling out a small package of almonds. You stared at it. Wow. Seriously. The mascot on the almonds looked way too jovial for how disheveled you were right now. You stomach clawed at your insides upon seeing the food.

Fuck it.

Jungkook came back to you holding the handful of almonds and chomping away.

The plastic was on the ground. Actual litter. You would pick it up later. Eat first. He was still shirtless. You wondered if he ran into anyone. You found that you didn’t really care as long as he only thought about you. Seemed like he did, because he skidded to a stop, looking terribly concerned.

You popped another almond in your mouth.

“Uh…”

Shit, you really liked him.

His brows knitted together. “I got some tissues. And paper towels, in case your back…”

You took the tissues and wiped between your legs, still holding the unsalted nuts with your left hand. “I probably need a shower. No one is gonna know you came on me anyway.” Chew, chew. Damn, you super liked him. Shit. Jungkook hovered next to you, not wanting to leave. You usually hated that but not with him. Oh, no. You pretended that you weren’t going to give up all responsibilities to fuck him seven days a week even though you barely knew him. Well, you knew what he was like in bed.

Really fuckin’ good.

Heh.

Technically not in a bed yet, but, eh, semantics.

“I’m really hungry,” you remarked.

“Me too,” Jungkook nodded, but he was still stuck to you, as close as he could be without clinging onto you. Trying to be cool about it. You glanced at him and he looked away quickly, feigning like he hadn’t been staring. Your jeans weren’t buttoned, but they were hanging off your hips. Ah, that explained it. You hadn’t handed him the wad of used tissues despite him clearly showing that he would help you with that gladly.

You fisted the rest of the almonds.

No, not actually.

Fine, you dumped the remainder into your mouth. Chewed thoughtfully. “I have a question and I want a truthful answer,” you mused, directing your gaze at him. Jungkook peeked back through his curls of mostly dry black hair. Must have wiped off his sweat. “Did you plan this?”

He shook his head very quickly and straightforwardly. “No, I didn’t. I swear.”

You believed him. “Never thought about it?”

His hesitation was glaringly obvious.

“Um…”

You waited.

“Y-Yeah… but it was hard to approach you… and I didn’t even think you remembered me.”

You frowned. “Of course, I remember you. I’ve seen you often. You’re not easy to miss.”

His ears were bright red. “O… Oh…”

You thought about it. There weren’t many opportunities for Jeon Jungkook and you to be alone. Then… The cheerful trickster face of the tattoo artist popped into your head.

You frowned slightly. “Did he plan this?”

The possibility seemed to have dawned on Jungkook. He looked surprised and then confused. “I never said… was it that night, when we were drinking at four in the morning…?” His dark brows furrowed. “I don’t remember what happened that night…”

You stared at him.

He slowly slipped from his thoughts and looked back at you, somewhat terrified at your intensity.

You told him exactly what you thought.

“You’re an idiot.”

He sputtered. “H-Hey!”

You shrugged. “Still wanna fuck you though. With condoms. Wanna come back to mine?”

“W-Wait…what?”

“Actually, we should grab something to eat first because I can’t live off only almonds. I’ll die.”

It wasn’t until you were fully dressed and Jungkook was yanking his tank top back on did you look more closely at the monitor screen. After clean up and kisses and light teasing (much to Jungkook’s dismay but he better get used to it if he wanted to be around you), you peered at the narrow column of previews on the side, tilting your head at the last one taken.

Uh.

“Jungkook?”

He was scrambling around behind you, snatching something off the ground. Oh, right, the camera remote he threw. “Huh? Ah!” You heard a thud and swearing. Must have run into the pedestal in his haste to get to you. You ignored his chaotic grumbling and used the mouse to click on the preview, expanding it.

Oh, you know.

Just you and Jeon Jungkook kissing for the first time in high definition.

You raised your eyebrows as he bounded up behind you, what, what, what, then skidding to a dead stop, centimeters from your crouched form. You stuck your tongue in your cheek. He must have pressed the button when it happened.

“Accident?”

Turned your head to look at him.

Those big peepers shifted awkwardly.

You blinked again, agonizingly slow.

“Uh… Yeah…?” he cautiously answered.

Believable.

Not.

You straightened and crossed your arms, giving him a look. Thoroughly intimidating. Jungkook blinked very fast and looked like he was trying not to enjoy it, which did not help you in maintaining the front. This fucking little shit. Or, rather, tall and muscular – never mind. You clicked your tongue and ticked your head to the screen.

“What were you gonna do with it? Frame it?”

He shrugged veeeery slowly. Raising his hands with his shrug as he replied.

“Maaaaaaaybe?”

You tried not to snort in laughter. It was very difficult. Sigh. He was so freaking annoying. And what was worse was that you liked it. Fuck. Maybe you hit delirium. Damn almonds. You wouldn’t have been so weak for Jeon Jungkook if it wasn’t for those fuckin’ almonds creating your aggravating morning.

Hm.

That had to have been the fattest lie you have ever told yourself.

“Can you just have a meal with me so I don’t have to tell everyone the reason we’re dating is because we fucked during the photoshoot?”

He started speaking very fast and stumbling on his words, Busan satoori slipping out. “Oh! We’re dating? Yes! I mean… yes, please! Wait… are we going to your place too, I mean, I would like to but I understa–”

Well.

You should remember you got yourself into this, bro.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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macabr3-barbi3 · 7 months ago

Text

pretty wings- Vox/fallen angel!Reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55237840

A Good Samaritan- a rare commodity in Hell- helps Vox to his car in the rain. How can he ever repay her?

(There's a second chapter now!)

Tags: wing kink; angel wings; fallen angels; vaginal sex; couch sex; fantasizing; begging; switching? maybe idk; Vox has a lil crush <3

💙❤️💙❤️💙

How it still manages to rain in Hell when there is no real atmosphere, he would never understand. Vox had never really liked the rain, even when he was alive- all it ever meant was canceled plans, systems going down, deep shitty puddles that got his shoes and pants wet and dirty. Like now, standing off the back porch of the restaurant he had just finished a meeting in, waiting for his fucking assistant to answer his goddamn phone and call a driver for him so he could go the fuck home since he couldn’t walk to his car.

He had been standing under the awning of the restaurant for twenty minutes now. The rain showed no sign of letting up, his meeting partners had all left, and Vox was fucked. He couldn’t go back inside- what kind of fucking loser goes back into an establishment after paying their tab, and for what? To ask for an umbrella? He’d rather die again. And if his assistant didn’t pick up his phone real fucking soon, someone would absolutely be dying today.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He sighs internally, sets his charm to its max setting and the brightness of his screen up before he turns towards your voice. “So sorry, doll, I’m afraid I’m all out of time for photo ops today!”

You raise an eyebrow, and he lets his gaze travel over your form. You looked relatively normal for a demon, your face still pretty human besides the two horns that came off your skull. Your eyes were wide and yellow, a heavy coat draped over your shoulders as you looked at him- not that much shorter, he noted, which was a nice change of pace from talking to Velvette all the time and having to crane basically in half to meet her eyes.

“That’s… not what I was going to ask.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and can feel his screen glitch on his smile as he watches you. “An interview then? Look, you can contact my people but I am really not in the-”

“What I was going to ask,” you interrupt him, and Vox fights down the wave of annoyance at having been cut off, “was if you needed help.”

His face screws up and he means to immediately deny. “Absolutely not. I’m perfectly fine-”

“Are you?”

And that was going to get annoying fast if you kept doing that, he thought to himself.

“You’ve been standing out here for close to half an hour and glaring at your phone. I don’t think its crazy to assume that you need some assistance with something having to do with the rain.” You look him over, much the same way that he had done to you. “I would imagine that the whole ‘TV head’ thing you have going on doesn’t mix well with precipitation.”

Well, you had him there. “You’re not wrong,” he admits testily. “But my assistant will be sending someone to drive me soon. I’ll be fine.” He flashes you a winning smile.

“I mean, I guess you could wait for your assistant to answer your calls- doesn’t seem like you’re having much luck with reaching them.” You cross your arms over your chest, and- nope, Vox was not going to stand out here in the rain and ogle some random sinner’s tits. He redirects his gaze. “Or you could let me either walk you to your car or walk with you to wherever you’re going.”

He throws you a side eye and sighs heavily, letting his head drop back before rolling an eye down to look at you. “You don’t look like you have an umbrella,” he says, crossing his arms now as well. “How exactly are we getting to my car?”

You give him a smile that shorts a fuse in his head for a moment, wide and earnest and pretty. “Who needs an umbrella?” You shrug one of your shoulders and the coat you’re wearing starts to slide off your shoulders. Vox makes a move to stop the slide like a gentleman, keep the coat covering your body and stop it from slipping into a puddle, when it rises up off your back and comes to cover the both of you. He sees black feathers interspersed with white spots as the bottom comes into view, and he realizes it wasn’t a coat at all.

You had wings. Big, powerful wings by the look of it- the part connected to your back didn’t shake under the weight of the limb being extended over your heads. He stared at them; he knew he was staring, that you might think it was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was mesmerizing. Thrilling.

He feels a spark of arousal shoot through him at the sight of them, and his plans change for the night. You’re pretty, and the curves of your body are appealing, but the wings. He wants to explore them. Wants to tease you with your own feathers. To run his fingers over them and watch you struggle to maintain this composure you have. He’s confident in his ability to get you home with him- maybe offer a drink as thanks for your help or something.

“Sure, I guess you can walk me to my car,” he says, feigning an air of disinterest despite the twitch in his cock. “It’s not every day one meets a sinner so giving- I might as well take advantage!” He sees the flinch that shoots across your face, making your wing tremble, but you straighten up and stiffen your shoulders, gesturing out to the street being beaten by the rain.

“Lead the way.”

He steps out from under the awning and is delighted when your wing does, in fact, shelter the both of you from the weather. You bring the second wing out to block any rain from blowing under the first with the wind, and Vox is fucking obsessed with the subtle muscle of them, the careful strength in the way that you adjust the angle of them to keep him dry. It seems subconscious, the movement of them, as Vox gave you directions to where he had parked earlier when the sky was dry and he had thought he could enjoy a nice walk after his meeting.

A piece of paper, litter off the ground, comes flying under the shelter you were providing him aiming right for his screen. He brings up a hand to block it- wet paper wouldn’t do any real damage but it was still annoying- when the tip of the wing over your head dips down slightly, catches it with a corner, and flings it off to the side. A drop of water manages to fly off the thing and splatter on his screen. You give him a smile, apology on your lips at being unable to prevent the attack. You turn back to the cars in front of you, looking for the electric blue of his vehicle that he had described to you.

Vox wants you spread out in his bed, he decides. Your wings splayed out behind you in whatever position he decided to take you- he would work with anything. He could trace his fingers over the delicate bones with you on your back as he drilled into you; grab a fistful of feathers while he fucks you from behind, use that leverage to sink his cock into you as far as he could manage; let you unfurl them from your back while you ride him so they cover you both like a blanket, seal yourselves off from the rest of the world and let the only light you see be his screen in the darkness of it.

“Sir?”

He blinks hard a couple times and realizes that you’ve reached his car, and you’re standing there in the rain illuminated by the few streetlights that reach this back corner. Your eyebrow is cocked at him in amusement, wings still suspended over him. “I think walking you over here defeats the purpose if you don’t actually get in the car.”

“Right, right!” He touches a claw to the vehicle and it roars to life as he grabs the handle and maneuvers himself inside of it. He looks up at you now, the positions reversed, and his breath catches in his throat, cock throbbing. You’re magnificent like this, wings still hanging above you and slightly over the car to make sure no moisture can reach him. The rest of your body is relaxed but he can see it in his head, the way that you would look tense with pleasure, eyes clenched shut and mouth hanging open.

You give him a smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

The vague chagrin that shoots through him does nothing to quell the erection rapidly growing in his pants. “I was going to say thank you,” he insists, and the way you laugh has him wanting to inject the sound into his fucking veins. “Can I- can I give you a ride home? You know, as thanks for walking me over here, making sure I don’t get waterlogged.”

You look like you’re going to refuse at first but then you shrug. “Sure. It’s not too far, if you really don’t mind.”

Fuck yes! The processors in his head are whirring, wondering how best to convince you to come back to his place on the way to yours. Or fuck, maybe he could just join you at your place. He wasn’t picky about where the fucking happened, as long as it did. He was desperate for it, to have you gasping for him while he plucked at your pretty wings with his cock nestled deep inside your pussy.

The passenger door opens and you enter the car with your knees on the leather seat. He questions it for only a moment before you lean back and shake your wings viciously outside the vehicle, dispersing as much of the water as you can before you sit normally in the seat. You buckle up and give him a sweet smile, pointing a slender finger to the other side of the parking lot where the exit is.

He can’t remember being so fucking turned on before as he puts some music on and starts driving. Sure, he had his fun with Val and sometimes some of his actors between scenes and shit, the occasional fangirl or one of Velvette’s models but just being aroused by the presence of someone? Who wasn’t actively trying to seduce him? Was just sitting in the passenger seat of his car while he drove her home?

It was new, and it was exciting, and God, those fucking wings…

They’re tucked delicately behind you, the black of your feathers contrasting nicely with the deep red leather of his seats. He’d never seen a demon with wings like these before- they were usually attached to the arms of them or draped off the back. More for decoration than anything else; even Val’s wings weren’t so prehensile and flexible, he thought, thinking about the way the tip had dipped down to sling that piece of paper away from him.

“So, your wings-”

“We’re here,” you say with a grin, the car not even having left the parking lot.

“What? I- here? ” He does stop the vehicle before looking over at you, craning his neck forward to look at a building that sat kitty corner to the restaurant he had his meeting in.

“I told you it wasn’t far.” He can hear the giggle in your voice. “How else do you think I saw you standing out here the whole time? I could see the glow of your screen from my window. Figured I would offer a hand since you didn’t look like you were making much progress.”

He stares at you. He hadn’t had time to try to convince you to spend more time with him- to convince you to let him get his hands on those feathers.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You’re reaching for the door handle when he blurts out, “wait!”

And thank fuck, you do. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised but your hand stops reaching. He clears his throat, fixes you with what he hopes is a suave look. “Let me thank you,” he says. “We can go grab a drink at my place- or I can buy you dinner, if you’d rather do that. Order some takeout if you want to stay home.” Smile wide, he waits for you to respond.

Bells and whistles ring in his head as you buckle back up. “I’m down on one condition.”

“Name it, doll,” is his immediate response, and he’s only a little embarrassed at the speed with which he spoke. “Really, I want to give you a proper show of gratitude- there’s no way this counts. Whatever you want.”

A crooked little smile graces your face. “Can I get your name?”

He can almost feel the error message crawl across the bottom of his screen; he doesn’t know what it says but he watches your eyes follow the scrawl of words, the real reason he knew it was there. “Vox,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaves off what is obvious to anyone else- Overlord of Hell, Media Mastermind, TV demon on the fast track to ruling Pentagram city. If you didn’t already know these things then you had to be new- that explained the blatant disrespect earlier, interrupting him, dismissing his words. If you didn’t know he wouldn’t tell you yet. He would win you over and get you onto a horizontal surface without his reputation; preferably with his sharp tongue, strong fingers and thick cock if he had a choice in the matter.

“Vox.” You repeat his name, and it sounds so sweet and innocent that he can’t wait for you to scream it out in ecstasy. You give him your name in return as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Vee Tower.

The silence is comfortable on the relatively short drive, Vox pulling the car into the basement garage of Vee Tower and quietly relishing in the fascinated expression on your face when someone comes to grab the keys to park his car as he leads you to the elevator. “You’re some kind of hotshot, huh?” You ask, lashes fluttering at him in a way that makes his knees weak.

“Something like that, doll,” he says, smile wide while you take it all in. Even just the garage is sophisticated and impressive, and he wishes he could see it through your eyes. He notices your raised eyebrows at the push of the button for the penthouse, but you don’t say anything. “So, your wings- are you some kind of bird?”

A tight smile. “Something like that, doll,” you parrot back to him. “That’s more of a second date question, I think.”

Second date. Was this your first date? Fuck, he should have called his assistant ahead of time and made him get something prepared fresh- gotten some fucking good champagne in- swapped out his comfortable sheets for the silk ones that his bed partners were nuts for even if he didn’t really care for them. But his assistant was fucking useless tonight, evidenced by the fact of your being here in the first place since he couldn’t get a car to fetch him.

Vox might not have met you if he had answered the phone though- so maybe he would let it slide.

He leads you out of the elevator into his home, the lights of Pentagram City casting a lovely red glow over your body. “Nice view.” You stand by it, the white tips of your wings illuminated where the light shone through. He comes to stand beside you in front of the couch, and you give him a pretty smile. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?” He has his phone out, firing off one last text to his assistant - "If I don’t hear back from you in the next ten minutes I’m swapping your contract for one of Val’s. FUCKING ANSWER ME” should get his message across- and missing the narrowing of your eyes when you turn back to face him.

“Do you know that you aren’t subtle?” You hook an ankle around the back of his leg and yank, sending him toppling backwards into the couch, his phone hitting the cushion next to you. He has only a brief moment to flounder, wonder what the fuck was happening, before you were straddling his lap, knees on either sides of his thighs and your skirt pulled taut between your legs. “See, I really couldn’t tell if you thought you were. I figured I would ask.”

“What?” He can’t find the power to do anything but watch with his eyes wide while you slide your hands down his chest and settle into his space, the warmth of your cunt palpable through his trousers where you rest against his rapidly hardening prick. “What do you-”

“Ah, you don’t know. Cute.” The word makes him twitch, and when he opens his mouth to protest what comes out instead is a choked off whine as you roll your hips into him. “I like my men a little cute- when they think they’re being so suave and sexy but all they can think about is getting their hands on my body. Or my wings, in this case.” As you mention them you let them puff up a little behind you, spread out ever so slightly so Vox could get a better look. His breath catches- silhouetted by the glow of the city behind you, you were breathtaking.

“What gave me away, doll?” He could deny, but what was the point in that? The night was already progressing the way that he wanted. You were perhaps a little more forward than he was expecting, but he could work with that. As long as it ended with your pussy swallowing up his cock he would be a happy demon.

You laughed, the sound like a bell in the silence of his place as he settles his hands on your hips. “Besides the blatant ogling of them when I first brought them out and the whole way across the parking lot, you mean? You had an error message in the car running across your screen just here-” You lean down and lick across the lower right corner of his face. “You wanna know what it said?”

“Enlighten me.” He’s amazed he can still get a word out with the blood rushing to his cock, hard length pressed against you where you’re seated on his lap.

“‘Pretty wings,’ it said.” Your fingers come down to undo his belt, whipping it from the loops of his pants. Vox nearly chokes on his tongue when you pull his cock out, already hard and leaking in your hand as you tighten your grip. “Suuuper cute. Over and over.” You lift your hips a bit, shoving your skirt up near your hips and hovering over his length. “I wanna hear it instead of reading it though- can you say it for me, pretty boy?”

You skim his tip through the slickness between your legs, and his brain short circuits when he realizes that you haven’t been wearing panties. “Fuck me,” he manages to laugh out. “Was this your plan the whole time? Play the good Samaritan to get me home so you could ride my cock?”

You shake your head and let yourself sink down the slightest bit, a breathy moan leaving your throat as his head is swallowed by your tight, wet heat. “Not initially. I really was just trying to be a nice person.” You throw him a wink, pulling away when he tries to thrust up and not allowing him to get any deeper inside of you. “Come on now- give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shoot straight to his prick. “Pretty wings,” he murmurs, letting one of his hands leave your hip to brush against the soft feathers. “They’re beautiful. Strong. Fuckin’ perfect.” With each word you slide down further until you’re fully seated on his cock. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“That’s it, baby,” you say, and shift your hips forward to get him where you want him. “You were thinking about this, yeah?” With a downward grind you let your wings unfurl completely, filling his vision with a flash of feathers that blocks the light of the city from reaching him. A ripple runs through them, the tremor rolling all the way from top to tip and the feeling is imitated around his cock, your tight walls rippling.

He doesn’t whine, thank you very much. But a broken drawn out sound does escape his mouth, screen thrown back over the back of the couch. He can’t bare to fucking look at you with how perfect the moment is, the sight and sound and sensation of you stuffed with his cock better than he could have imagined. “I wanna touch them,” he says, but when he reaches his fingers out you wrap your hands around his wrists, surprising strength in your redirection of his palms to your chest.

“Can we say ‘please’, pretty boy?” You let your wings flutter, a gust of wind blowing across his face from the movement, moaning when his prick hits a soft spot inside you that makes you gush around his length. “I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.”

His pride fights him for a moment- this wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go, with him at your mercy instead of the other way around. He had wanted you under him, wings spread across his mattress and feathers fisted in his hands while he fucked you.

“I’ll give you a demonstration of what I’m looking for,” you offer, and then your lashes are fluttering, eyes rolling back into your head and a whine falling forth from your mouth. “Oh fuck, Vox , baby, please.”

Pride flies out the window in favor of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. “Please, sweetheart,” he says, and he lets his clawed thumbs roll over the pebbles of your nipples where you hold him against your chest. “Let me touch them? I’ll be real gentle with you, baby.”

You pick up the pace, releasing his hands and bringing your wings forward, bordering him on either side so all he can see is you. “That’s what I like to hear,” you whisper with a grin, bracing your hands on his shoulders and properly riding him now, the slick sound of your body taking him in echoing in the emptiness of his living room.

He lifts his trembling palms from your chest and brushes the tips of his claws along the bottoms of your wings, feathers gliding softly over his digits- the sensation makes you moan, another gentle ripple running through them. He fists his hands in them, pulling lightly like he might at someone’s hair, and your wet heat pulses around him, pussy tight like you mean to keep him inside of you forever. He wants that- wants to stay buried where he currently is until Hell falls to pieces around you.

His phone rings on the couch beside him, the call taking over his screen moments later. Vox doesn’t want to let go of your wings, having just gotten his hands on them- with a shake of his head the call is dismissed, only to immediately come back and take over his face again. “God fucking-”

You lift a hand from his shoulder and answer the call, a right swipe and a wicked smile leading to Vox’s assistant’s voice filling the space between you and him. “-and I am SO. SORRY. Sir I swear, I have never had my phone on silent like this before-” He continues his rant, and Vox struggles to remember why he was even calling right now- he was fucking busy, damn it, what the fuck.

“-understand that you’re upset, but please, sir, I’ll do better, just don’t send me to Valentino-”

“Better answer him,” you whisper to Vox, dragging your tongue up the side of his screen, hips grinding down. “If I cum before the call ends I’ll leave.”

Graceful fingers slide down your body to rub at your own clit, moaning prettily into the side of his face while his assistant rambled in his ear. Vox was going to fucking combust.

“Just- fuck, man, shut up. It’s fine.” You chuckle into his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning it and raking your claws down his chest. “ Jesus fuck, I- no, not you. It’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning-”

“But sir if you still need a ride-”

“I fucking found a ride, alright,” he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your wings in one hand and letting the other trail firmly along the top of it, all the way down to the tip. The feathers seem to shiver in his grasp and your cunt clenches around him, threatens to pull him over the edge with how close you are. “Call me in the morning. Now f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞. ”

Voice files corrupted, he disconnects the call, reaches his hands around your back to finger at the base of your wings, the skin there taut and sensitive if the keening groan you let off into his shirt is anything to go by. “Fuck me, you feel divine,” he mutters, and you choke off a chuckle at the word. “Let me feel you, angel, cum on my cock.”

“N- naughty men that don’t say please don’t get to make demands,” you say, and he could tease you, could pull your hand away from your clit and make you hover right on the edge of release. But he was a selfish man, and could admit that he wanted the feeling of you coming undone around him more than he wanted to be right.

“Please, baby, please,” he begs, and you hiss through your teeth at the sound of his pleading, sweet and low, the slightest hint of static to his voice. “God, fucking d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, please, l- let me w̡̻̻̣͚̒̀ͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡-”

““Oh fuck, Vox, baby, please-” Less sarcastic this time despite the half formed smile on your face, and the teasing lilt to it is ruined by the clenching of your eyes as you clamp down on his prick and cum, fingers of the hand not frantically rubbing at your clit digging into his skin while you shudder and shake in the embrace of his arms.

He follows you moments later, the tension he had felt since meeting you outside the restaurant finally cresting and crashing, and he spends himself inside of the slick grip of your cunt, still riding him with the effort you can spare after the force of your orgasm before eventually slowing. You take your fingers from your clit, circle them around the base of his cock and collect some of your combined releases before bringing them up to his mouth, pushing inside and letting Vox’s tongue wrap around the length of them.

Fuck. You would be the death of him, he was sure.

“Not bad,” you mutter once you’ve collapsed bonelessly against him. “Might need a couple more rounds to really show you the ropes though- really get it through your screen here who is in charge.”

“That’s not you, doll.” Vox laughs, and you bring your wings up to surround the two of you like a fort, the glow of his screen illuminating your face and the teasing smile you wear.

“I guess I could be willing to share,” you agree, leaning forward far enough to press a teasing kiss to the plastic of his face. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you reassure your little assistant that you’re not going to murder him.”

“Still thinking about it,” he muses, “but we’ll see.” He runs his fingers again along the bottom of your wings, delights in your shiver, and wishes the rain would never stop.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #hazbin vox #x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox the tv demon #my stuff <3

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