#tws bluetooth Speaker

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

//Mun is having a more in-depth session at therapy today so might be kinda wonky/recluse for a bit

[netfolix]

HEYSONG Brand Introduction

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Heysong is a team of music enthusiasts with a combined experience of more than 40 years in design, innovation, and development in industry-leading companies, which specialized in outdoor waterproof Bluetooth speakers, ANC.ENC headphones, TWS earbuds.

[darkwitchoferie]

New Year's Consequences

Summary: Your best friend, Jeongin, got very drunk and left a rambling voice note confessing to certain feelings he has for you. While listening to the message several times over, you hurry to his and Chan’s apartment.

Cw/tw: drunk confession, unprotected piv, face-sitting, face-fucking, cum swallowing, a little dom!IN, pussy slapping, pet names (baby, sweet girl), aftercare fluff

Wc: 6k

This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my master list.

You groaned, rolling over as you woke up. It was Saturday morning and you didn’t want to be awake yet. Reaching for your phone to check the time, you saw you had a voice note from your best friend Jeongin.

“’Member tha uh… party. With th’ tree and th’ coun’ing and th’ lights? ‘Member you kissed me? Love tha’ kiss. Can stop thinkin’ ‘bout it. Wish it woulda been longer. Wish you stay th’ nigh’ with me. Wish you stay ALL th’ nigh’s with me. You smell good, li’e all th’ time. How come? Bed’s empty, tha’s sad. Y/nnie!! Oh hi, Channie-hyung. Leavin’ message for Y/nnie. Wha’ you mean? Nu-uh. Love Y/nnie, gotta tell ‘er. Only a lil drunk, ‘s o –”

The message abruptly cut off. You stared at your phone and the time stamp that message was sent to you – 3:17 am. Then you hit play and listened to it again. Maybe it was silly to be giddy over a drunk confession but you were, squealing and kicking your feet. After all, drunk actions were sober thoughts, or whatever the saying was.

You tossed your blanket off, rushing to get dressed. You hesitated in front of your closet for a moment, it was cold, but you wanted to look cute. Besides, you were only going to be outside for a couple minutes at most. You pulled on a knee-length skirt Jeongin had bought for you a couple of years previously, pairing it with the new cable knit sweater you’d gotten yourself. While you dressed and did you hair, you played Jeongin’s voice note over and over.

In you car, your phone automatically hooked into the Bluetooth, like always, so you were hearing his voice note through much better speakers. You remembered the New Year’s party he was talking about. It had been a New Year’s kiss, as soon as the clock struck midnight. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either. How soft his lips were, the way he’d gently cradled your head in one hand, the other pressing against your lower back, how it was over far too soon for your liking.

You reached Chan and Jeongin’s apartment in record time. You hurried to the main door, only regretting the skirt for a moment when the wind blew. You paced anxious circles in the elevator. Now that you were here, you wondered if maybe you should have waited until later in the day or just called him. It was too late to turn back now though, you were here and you were going to see this through.

Chan answered the door when you knocked, took one look at your face and as soon as the door was closed behind you, said, “You listened to it.”

“I did,” you beamed at him.

“Good,” Chan smiled at you. “He’s not awake yet. Don’t do anything dumb. I’ll be out for the day,” he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head, just above your ear, as he passed by.

Hearing that he wasn’t awake yet, and knowing how drunk he’d likely been the night before and therefore how hungover he was likely to be this morning, you made your way to their kitchen. You made a few slices of peanut butter toast, knowing it was one of the options he would eat even if it got cold, and grabbed a coconut water. Then made yourself a quick smoothie since you hadn’t had breakfast before you ran out of your apartment.

Once in his room, you just watched him sleep for a few minutes. You sighed quietly – your best friend was gorgeous, there was no denying it. Even passed out, he looked adorable. You set the food on his night stand and climbed onto his bed, settling in to wait until he woke up. You were quietly scrolling your Tiktok feed, enjoying the thirst edits of the sleeping man beside you, when you felt Jeongin start to stir.

You looked over at him as he blearily blinked his eyes open. “Y/nnie?” His sleep-deepened voice rasped out. “What’re…?”

“Here, drink this.”

“No drinks,” he protested quietly.

“It’s coconut water. Drink, then I made toast.” He did as you instructed, slowly.

“Eugh, I reek,” he commented after downing the last of the water.

“You smell like whiskey,” you agreed easily.

“Eugh.” After another moment, he rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After several minutes, you heard the shower turn on and settled back into his bed with your phone.

Quite a while later, Jeongin, hair messy and damp and clad only in a pair of loose pants, bounced onto his bed beside you. “Now that I feel human again, what’s the early morning occasion, bestie?”

“I’ve always hated how easily you get over a hangover,” you commented, turning to smile at him. “How drunk were you last night? Like, do you remember everything?”

“Oh God, I did something embarrassing didn’t I? Is that why you’re here? The boys called you ‘cause the Maknae was embarrassing himself?”

“No,” you laughed, interrupting him. It was a fair assumption though – the other members had called you for exactly that reason more than a few times. “You called me. Or rather, you left me a voice note. Here, listen.” With a couple quick taps, you played the voice note you’d already listened to so many times this morning.

You expected some worry, some nerves at how you’d react. What you did not expect was for Jeongin to try to get out of bed and run from you. Thankfully, you were able to keep him in place. Despite being significantly stronger than you, he never wanted to accidentally hurt anyone so he held back and let you push him around.

You tossed a leg over his waist, settling yourself comfortably on his abs. Then you realized your mistake. The only thing separating his drool-worthy abs from your pussy, was your underwear, your skirt having flared out a bit. You did your best to ignore this fact, needing to focus, but still, you felt yourself getting wet against the heat of his abs. The fact that you were already turned on from being beside Jeongin and the thirst edits you’d watched also didn’t help your situation.

“You drunkenly confess and then try to run away? So, it’s safe to assume you meant it then? Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have run. You’d have denied, or joked.” You didn’t bother suppressing your grin.

“Can we end the teasing early, please. Really not how I want my day to go.” He turned his head, not looking at you.

“You idiot,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Why do you think I left Busan the second I could to follow you here? I could’ve stayed behind for Eun-Ji, ya know, my other best friend? But I didn’t. Because I’m not in love with her.”

“But…,” his brow furrowed in confusion, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes, “you moved here almost five years ago.”

“You’re adorable when you’re confused.”

He wiggled in place under you and you had to bite the side of your tongue to hold in the moan that movement elicited. Finally, he turned to face you completely. “I don…. You’ve been in love with me for five years?”

“More than. I don’t actually know how long,” you shrugged. “It’s why no one back home was surprised I followed you out here.”

His hands, which had been fisted in his sheets like he was trying not to touch you, came up to tentatively smooth over your thighs, over your skirt, and gently grasp your hips. You saw the look on his face shift from a little confused still to curious as his grip settled you more firmly against his abs.

“Hold on, are you…?” he shifted again and you pressed your lips together to hold in another moan. “You are.” His eyes lit up. “You’re wet, Y/nnie. Do you like sitting on me that much?” The familiar sly smile graced his face as he further tightened his grip on your hips, deliberately pulling you more firmly against himself.

“Now is not the time, Innie. We’re having a discussion.” You attempted to remain serious, even as you rolled your hips against him, pulling a low moan from your own throat at the friction that move provided.

“You’re absolutely right,” his smile didn’t dim at all. “You were saying no one back home was surprised you followed me?”

“Of course they weren’t.” He held tight to your hips, rocking you against his abs again.

“Why not?” he asked, when you didn’t go on.

“They all knoh that I’ve been in love with you for years.” You braced a hand on his chest, as he kept up a steady, firm pace, rolling you against his abs. “God, why’s that feel so good?”

He slid his hands down off your hips, then up under your skirt, to grip your bare hips. “Does it, Y/nnie?” He shifted your hips, shifting the way your clit rubbed against his abs, and pulling another moan from you. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked. “Why didn’t you ever say? That you love me?”

“Why didn’t – ah – you?” You countered, voice breathy. You were more than a little surprised at just how good it felt to be rubbing against Jeongin’s abs.

“Nerves,” he answered simply. “I say something and I risk losing my best friend. But if I’d known it would get me this – you humping yourself on my abs like you’re in heat,” he gave you that sly smile again, the tip of his tongue sliding out. You pinched him where your hand was braced on his chest, pulling a chuckle from him.

“Same though,” you answered finally, working to control your breathing. He nodded before stopping your hip movement and smirking at the whine that pulled from you. His hand slid over and shifted your panties to the side. “Oh god,” you moaned, feeling him against your bare pussy.

“Yeah, bet that feels better instead of your soaked panties, huh baby?” he teased. You glared, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your hips again. He flipped the front of your skirt up, holding it up with his hands on your hips. “Mm, such a cute pussy, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.”

You whimpered, not only at his words and the image they provided, but at the feeling of your orgasm building up in your belly. “I swear, if you make me cum before you kiss me –” Your threat was cut off as he tangled one hand in the front of your sweater and pulled you down to him. You barely caught yourself in time to stop from crashing face first into him, but it was totally worth it when you felt his lips on yours for the first time. You moaned into his mouth as he tilted his own head to deepen the kiss, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter and your hips speeding up.

“C’mon baby,” he pushed up on your chest, moving you just far enough that he could talk. “You gonna cum for me? Make a mess on my abs?” You whimpered, the hand still on your hip, pulling you tighter against him. Laying on him like this, you got more direct stimulation to your clit and it was doing wonders toward building your orgasm. Then he flexed, giving you harder muscles to rub against. “Yeah, you are. Look at you, baby. So pretty, falling apart on me.”

His words were doing as much for you as the stimulation on your clit. You ground down on his abs a handful more times before finally that coil in your belly snapped and you came, shuddering above him.

“Good girl,” Jeongin wrapped both arms around you, tugging you down against his chest and running a soothing hand over your back. “God baby, you look so good when you cum. Knew you would, knew you’d be gorgeous falling apart for me.” He pressed soft kisses against the side of your head and face that he could reach. You lay against him, delighting in his closeness as you got your breathing under control. “Baby?” he asked, once your breathing was back to normal.

“Hm?”

“You good to keep going, or no?”

“Why would I stop now?” you demanded, sitting back up, still straddling him.

He offered a small smile and said, “I’ve been with two girls who had fairly long recovery periods and didn’t want to be touched after an orgasm.”

“Mm.” You did not like the thought of him having sex with other people. You knew he had, objectively. But you didn’t want to think of it.

Clearly he caught something in your eyes or face that let him know what you were feeling, probably thanks to knowing each other for so long. His small smile widened into a teasing smirk. “Are you jealous, baby?”

“No,” you insisted. “They’re not the ones who just came on your abs. Their loss,” you shrugged.

“Mm-hm. And don’t you forget it.” You leaned back over him, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Arms still around you, Jeongin sat up, causing you to shift so that you were in his lap instead of on his abs now. You broke the kiss, head lolling back as you moaned at the feeling of his hard cock under you. The way your underwear was shoved to the side was starting to get uncomfortable but, with the way he felt under you and with the way he was kissing and licking your neck, you could not have cared less.

You gasped, hand flying to his hair, as he harshly sucked a hickey into the side of your neck, then whimpered, pussy clenching when he shifted slightly to bite down where your neck and shoulder met. He pulled away again to capture your lips, his tongue sliding past your lips and over yours. You ground down against his cock, smirking when he pulled away from your mouth with a groan.

“Shirt off, baby. Lemme see those pretty tits,” his hands slid up under the hem of your sweater. You quickly tugged it off, tossing it off the side of his bed, quickly followed by your bra. “Gorgeous,” his hands slid up, cupping each breast. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to one nipple before his tongue darted out, kitten licking the same nipple. His other hand gently squeezed your tit, fingers quickly shifting to play with that nipple. His eyes stayed focused on your face, watching every reaction.

You buried a hand in his hair, holding him against you, even as you rolled your hips against the bulge in his sweats. He switched his mouth to the other boob, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He gently suckled on you as the fingers on his other hand rolled and tugged on your other nipple, pulling soft moans from between your lips.

He released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ then dropped to lay back on his bed. “Come up here,” he tugged your hips, dragging you up his body. “Need you to sit on my face.” You lifted, about to get off of him so you could at least take your panties off, when he took the opportunity to reach between your thighs. You thought maybe he was going to push his fingers into you – a very welcome intrusion. Instead, he tore the crotch of your panties.

“Jeongin!”

“What? They were already ruined with how wet you got them.”

“Shut up,” you flushed.

“Make me,” he grinned slyly up at you, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. You narrowed your eyes at him, aware that his words were more dare than teasing. You crawled up the rest of his body, kneeling on either side of his face and felt him chuckle just as you sat on his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you to him, tongue lapping at your wet folds, your ruined underwear laying against his chin and nose. You quickly tucked your skirt into it’s waist band so you could look down and see his face.

“Oh god, Innie,” you groaned, one hand bracing against his headboard, the other coming down to tangle in his hair. He hummed against you, vibrations shooting straight into you. Your hips moved without your conscious decision, rubbing yourself against him as he alternated his tongue, licking your clit one second, then fucking up into your cunt the next. He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking it into his mouth and batting it around with his tongue, before quickly shifting to fuck his tongue up into your hole again.

His hands slid from your hips, coming up to fondle your tits. You lost yourself in the pleasure of his mouth and his hands. His lips and tongue seemed to be on every centimeter of your pussy constantly, licking, kissing, and sucking your flesh while he swallowed down every bit of arousal flowing from you. You rolled your hips, humping yourself against his face, broken moans falling from your lips constantly.

His fingers teased your nipples, plucking, pinching, and rolling the sensitive nubs between his fingertips, before his hands shifted to squeeze your tits. He gently squeezed both mounds of flesh, pressing them together and flicking his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your grip on his hair tightened as you clenched against his tongue. He moaned against you, shifting to wrap his lips around your clit.

He suckled the little bundle of nerves into his mouth, pressing his tongue firmly against it, then flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “Close,” you moaned out. He didn’t change his actions, continuing to flick your clit with his tongue and very soon after, you were cumming, back arching and gushing on his face. You sagged forward, forehead pressed against the top of his headboard as you came down from your high. Below you, Jeongin lapped up your release.

You felt him wipe his face on your skirt then let out a surprised yelp when he yanked you down onto the bed beside him. “You’re delicious,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Always knew that tongue would be amazing,” you replied. He laughed, bright and loud. “Mm,” your hand smoothed down his chest, coming to rest on the prominent bulge in his loose sweats. “Need you in my mouth Innie,” you said, gently squeezing his dick.

He groaned. “Wanna suck me off, baby?”

“Nope. Want you to fuck my mouth.” You tipped your head back to look up at him, blinking up at him as innocently as you could with your hand still fondling his cock through his pants. “Will you, pretty please?”

He groaned again, eyes rolling back, before leaning down to capture your lips in a hard, possessive kiss. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue when he pushed it into your mouth. He broke the kiss, rolling away from you and off the bed. You watched as he stood up and shucked off his sweats – no underwear under them. You moaned, watching his hard cock bob when he pulled his pants down.

“Come here, baby,” he held out his hand to you, cocky grin on his face. You shifted over to him, pulling off your skirt and destroyed panties, and tossing them toward where you sweater and bra had landed, as you did. Jeongin leaned down, claiming your lips in a hard, possessive kiss before manhandling you into the position he wanted you in. He laid you on your back, legs relaxed, hands on your thighs, head dangling over the edge of the bed. “Ready?” he asked, gripping the base of his cock.

“Please,” you responded, dropping your jaw and holding your tongue out over your bottom teeth.

He was gentle, shallow, on the first motion. He slid just the head of his cock against your tongue, letting you taste the precum beading on his slit. With each roll of his hips, he pushed a little more of his cock into your waiting mouth. You were torn – on the one hand, he was being sweet and caring, letting you adjust and figure out how much of his cock would fit in your mouth; on the other, you really just wanted him to do as you’d asked and fuck your mouth.

You struggled a little, gagging lightly, before he was all the way in your mouth, but you still whined when he quickly pulled out. He looked down at you, head tilted to the side as though in question. Then he took the hand that had been around the base of his cock and placed it on your throat. He didn’t apply any pressure, just held his hand there almost as if holding you still. You moaned as he pushed his cock back in your mouth, this time completely bottoming out until you gagged around his head. He held there for a few seconds before pulling back and asking, “Okay?”

“Please,” you pleaded, voice already breathy.

He grinned again. Keeping that hand still on your neck, he built up a steady rhythm, fucking his cock into your more-than-willing mouth. You moaned around his length, fingers curling and scratching your own thighs.

You could feel yourself getting wetter again and some distant part of your mind wondered if it was healthy to still be this turned on after you’d already cum twice. Mostly though, you didn’t have the brain space to really think about it. You could feel your mind going a little hazy, like it did when you had a partner you could trust to take care of you while he used you.

Without conscious decision, one of your hands slid off your thigh to your soaked pussy. You ran two fingers along your slit, gathering your own wetness, before pressing those fingers against your clit, your hips lifting slightly to seek the relief your fingers were bringing.

Jeongin batted your hand away from your clit, then landed a quick smack to your pussy lips. He pulled out of your mouth, using the hand that had been against your throat to tip your head so he could look you in the eyes. “That pussy is mine to play with, understand?” You whimpered, even as you nodded. “Good,” he replied, landing one more quick slap on your pussy before thrusting back into your waiting mouth.

You tried to close your legs, hoping for that relief at least, but he pushed your thighs apart, slapping you again. You clenched around nothing as you moaned around his length. Understanding what he wanted, you spread your thighs further apart, bending your knees and planting your feet flat on his bed.

“Good girl,” he groaned out. The praise sent a shiver of lust down your spine and you rolled your hips, seeking some sort of friction you knew wasn’t there. He kept up his steady pace in your mouth, unconcerned about the drool spilling over your cheeks and into your hair. The hand on your neck tightened briefly and you moaned. “Yeah, sweet girl? Do you like letting me use you?” You moaned in response, pulling an echoing groan from him.

“So good to me, Y/nnie, letting me use your pretty mouth.” His praises came out breathier as he kept going, punctuated with his own moans. “Look so pretty in my bed. Gonna let me fuck that gorgeous cunt too? Make a mess of your sloppy cunt, hm?”

You had gripped the blanket below you to resist the urge to reach for your pussy. Part of you wondered if he’d slap your pussy again if you did – and wanted him to. But there was a little niggle that maybe he’d stop fucking your mouth and you really wanted him to come down your throat, so you resisted. Your grip on the blanket tightened as his hips sped up, causing a little gag with every thrust. Your pussy clenched as you thought about him fucking your pussy like he was fucking your mouth.

“Gonna cum, Y/nnie. Where, baby?” Your hand flew to his hips, as if you could hold him in your mouth. You sucked him, as best as you could given the way your head was tilted. He groaned and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth seconds before he stilled and you tasted his hot cum flooding your mouth. He pulled out quickly, tilting your head back up so it was easier for you to swallow. Your tongue darted out, catching the little bit that had spilled onto your upper lip. “God, baby,” he groaned out, watching you.

He grabbed your hips, pushing a bit so you were fully on the bed again. Then he bent over you, forehead resting on your belly as he tried to catch his breath. You carded your fingers through his messy, sweat-dampened hair, working to catch your own breath even as you tipped your head slightly back to kitten lick the head of his still-hard cock. The broken moan that came from him at your actions, spurred you to keep going.

Abruptly, he stood straight up and stared down at you. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” You grinned happily up at him. He reached for your hips again, manhandling you to spin you around. He brought your hips to the edge of his bed, hooking his hands under your knees to keep your thighs spread, legs in the air, and thrust into you with one smooth stroke.

“Oh god,” you moaned out, hands flying to tightly grip his arms.

“Yeah?” he offered his sweetest smile, the kind that usually melted your insides but this time, set them aflame. He leaned over you, spreading your thighs as wide as possible, to claim your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away from your lips to say, “You’re so wet baby. Did you really enjoy that, that much?”

“Mm-hm,” you nodded, smoothing your hand up one of his arms and coming up to wrap around the back of his neck. “Trust you, like it when you use me,” you said simply, struggling for a moment to find words.

He seemed to notice your struggle because the sweet look in his eyes shifted, turning darker, but he didn’t actually say anything. Instead, he pulled back, pulling nearly all the way out of you, before slamming back in again, as hard as the angle he was at would allow him to. Though you didn’t see it, he grinned at the way your eyes rolled back in your head. He shifted back, standing fully upright and keeping your thighs spread, then set a fast, punishing pace.

He looked down at where you were connected, groaning as he watched his cock disappear into you. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Pussy’s so wet and warm. Take me so well,” he moaned out between thrusts. You had a bit of trouble hearing him over the nearly constant moans he was pulling from you. Already being on the edge from the way he’d used your mouth, your orgasm was building quickly and he could feel it in the way you clenched around him. “Feeling good, baby? You gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?”

You moaned in response, long and deep in your chest, nodding your head though it felt difficult to do, like you’d just woken up. Jeongin let go of both of your legs, reaching down with one hand to wrap around the back of your neck and tug you up closer to him. Meeting you halfway, he leaned down to claim your lips in a sloppy, barely-a-kiss, kiss. You couldn’t seem to get your lips to cooperate with you, so you mostly just moaned against his lips. Not that he seemed to mind. His other hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb coming to rub quick, firm circles against your clit.

With just a few more hard thrusts, you came apart, back arching, head lolling back, as your orgasm crashed though you. Jeongin’s thrusts slowed, but didn’t stop, as he fucked you through your high. He laid you back on the bed, following so he was bent over you. He pressed his face between your tits, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your chest before twisting to take one of your nipples between his lips. You whimpered as he sucked the bud into his mouth, tongue flicking over it.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he continued the slow roll of his hips, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair as he continued to suck on your tit. You relished the slow drag of his cock in your sensitive cunt, whimpering with each roll of his hips, but the part of your mind that was still present, wanted to feel him cum in you, wanted to feel him fill you up. To get him to speed up, you deliberately clenched around him.

You felt the huff of his chuckle against your wet nipple as he pulled away. “Ready for more, sweet girl?” You nodded, tightening your legs around his hips. “Gonna make a mess of this pussy, just like I said. Gonna let me cum in you, let me ruin you?”

“Yes,” you forced the word out, voice breathy and barely loud enough to be heard. This time you saw his wicked grin.

Instead of fucking you harder, like you’d thought he would, he pulled out completely. You whined, kicking your legs in protest. He grabbed one of your legs, stopping your kicks as he pressed a kiss to the side of your ankle. “I know, poor baby.” Any sympathy in his voice was wrecked by the wicked grin still on his face. “Relax, sweet girl. Just wanna move you.”

You let him manhandle you to the new position he wanted. He moved you properly up on his bed, laying flat, face down against the pillow he’d been sleeping on, grabbing the other and stuffing it under your hips. He kept your thighs pressed together, but canted your hips up slightly. You felt him shift around behind you, looking back as best as you could from the angle you were at, watching him bracket your thighs with his own. You watched him grab the base of his cock and press against your cunt. You should’ve been, but weren’t prepared for the force of his thrust as he slid back into you. You slid up against his pillow with the force of his thrust, groaning at the feeling of being full again.

He gripped your hips, quickly finding his former, hard pace. You, of course, couldn’t see it, but Jeongin’s gaze was locked on your fucked-out face, watching the way your eyes had rolled back and the drool that was already steadily seeping onto his pillow. He couldn’t bring himself to care that he’d definitely have to do laundry today. His grip on your hips tightened as he fucked you harder, delighting in every strangled moan he pulled from your throat.

He dropped forward, catching himself with a hand on either side of your head. He hovered over you, caging you against his bed, close enough to feel the heat from his skin, but not close enough to touch. You canted your hips back, changing the angle enough to pull him deeper into you. You whined at the way his cock rubbed against every sensitive spot in your cunt.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” You couldn’t find words to answer, just whimpers and trying to move your hips against him. “Mm, I always wondered what you’d be like with my cock in you,” his voice was breathy but still teasing. “And look at you, completely cock-drunk.” He rocked his hips, pulling a whine from you when he went deeper into you. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the side of your face and lips, your neck and shoulder, between muttered praises. “Feel so good on my cock, baby. Take me so well, like you were made for me. Can’t believe we wasted so much time. Shoulda told you I love you forever ago. Gonna make up for it now, love you good. Love you forever.”

You whined and whimpered under him, too far gone to truly register his words, just the tone in which he said them. Your breath came fast and in short huffs. Distantly you registered that you were getting a little dizzy but it wasn’t something you could articulate or even really focus on for more than a second.

His hand slid under your hip, quickly finding your clit. “Gonna cum in you, sweet girl. Think you have one more for me? Yeah, you do. Can feel it. That’s it, baby, let go for me. Come on.” And you did, fists tightly gripping the pillow under your face, cunt clenching around his cock, and your vision going white.

The next thing you knew, Jeongin was lying beside you, hand softly smoothing up and down your spine. “Hey baby. You back with me?”

You blinked owlishly at him a few times, struggling for a moment to process what had happened. “Did I pass out?”

“Only for like a minute.” You shifted to face him fully, feeling his cum leak from you and onto his blanket. “Gonna have to keep a better eye on your breathing next time. You started to hyperventilate and I didn’t catch it. I’m sorry, baby.” You saw guilt creep into his eyes.

“Oh Innie, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m more than fine, baby. I swear.” You reassured him, reaching out to press your hand over his still-thudding heart.

“Mm.” You couldn’t tell if he was fully reassured or not, but he said, “Still, I’m going to keep a better eye on your breathing. That scared me a bit. Well, more than a bit.”

“Okay,” you agreed easily. You tried to shift again, tried to move closer to him, only to find that your limbs felt like jello.

He chuckled, seeing your semi-glare at your own legs. “Come here,” he reached over and tugged you so that you were nearly on top of him. Something of your surprise at how close he wanted you to be must’ve shown on his face because he said, “I like how close you are. Always.” A pleased, giddy, grin broke across your face and you nuzzled against his pec. After a quiet moment, during which his fingers trailed up and down your arm, he shifted. “Come on. I need another shower, and I know you do too.”

He slipped out from under you then reached out and scooped you up in a bridal carry. “Innie!”

“It’s fine, I’ve got you.” You didn’t protest further, letting him carry you into his bathroom. In the shower, he let you lean on him, supporting you weight even after you didn’t need him to, while you both cleaned up, scrubbing the sweat, drool, and cum from you both.

Once out, he wrapped you in a towel while you wrapped your hair in another. Then, once again, picked you up and carried you back into his room.

“Here, baby,” Jeongin sat you on the ottoman at the foot of his bed. “Stay here. I’m gonna strip the bed, start the laundry, then I’ll bring you a snack, okay?”

“I can move on my own, Innie.”

“Yeah, now you can,” he teased, chuckling. He gently ran a finger tip over your flushed cheeks. His voice softened, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

“Okay,” you said softly, nodding a little. He grinned and leaned in to press a quick, firm kiss to your lips, before moving off to put on boxers and strip his bed.

You sat, wrapped in a towel still, and watched him, marveling at how thoroughly your best friend and now lover wanted to take care of you.

[box-shopping]

[jungwnies]

roommate from hell - oscar piastri (2/5)

୨ৎ : pairing : oscar piastri x gn!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : forced into an accidental roommate situation, oscar and you struggle with clashing habits, sarcastic banter, and unexpected tension…until frustration turns into something much deeper.

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy & light angst (barely...) ୨ৎ : tws : forced proximity, mild conflict, emotional tension, and mutual pining. ୨ৎ : wc : 813

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : you guys the love and support i've been getting on this series literally makes me so happy and motivates me so so so much, i can't wait to finish it up shortly and have all the chapters out within the following weeks <3 i love you all so muchhh!!

Living with Oscar Piastri was a test of patience.

Not because he was loud, or messy, or the type of roommate who left dirty dishes in the sink for days. No, that would have been easier to deal with.

Oscar was the opposite, too neat, too quiet, too good at being passively annoying in ways that weren’t technically wrong but still managed to drive you up the wall.

Three days in, and you had barely seen him outside of the occasional pointed glance when you left a blanket unfolded or turned the TV volume up too high. He had his own schedule, waking up ridiculously early, disappearing for most of the day, coming back late at night, and somehow managing to leave no trace of his existence in the apartment.

You would almost think he wasn’t living there at all.

Except for the silent war unfolding between you.

It started small. You noticed how your things on the bathroom counter would shift slightly each morning, your toothbrush moved just an inch to the left, your skincare bottles rearranged like they were being judged. Then there was the thermostat battle, where you’d turn it up one degree warmer only to find it adjusted back down the next time you checked. The first time your music mysteriously disconnected from the Bluetooth speaker, you thought it was a glitch. The second time, you knew it wasn’t.

In retaliation, you swapped his sugar with salt. He noticed immediately, gave you a long, unimpressed stare, and poured himself a new cup of coffee without a word. You thought that was the end of it until you found all of your laundry neatly folded but with one sock missing from each pair.

It was all so petty.

And yet, neither of you stopped.

The turning point happened when you made the grievous mistake of drinking the last can of Monster Energy in the fridge.

It had been sitting there all day, untouched, practically begging to be taken. You weren’t even a big energy drink person, but the satisfaction of claiming something you knew Oscar would want later was too good to pass up. So you grabbed it, cracked it open, and took a long, slow sip, savoring the taste of victory.

You had no regrets, but that was until Oscar walked into the kitchen and stared at the empty can in your hand.

"You did not just drink my last Monster," he said flatly.

You took another sip. "Oh, I definitely did."

His eyes narrowed. "You don’t even like energy drinks."

“I do now,” you said, lifting the can like a toast.

Oscar exhaled through his nose, glaring like you had personally offended him. "Unbelievable."

"Consider it compensation for the psychological damage you’ve caused me."

He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed his keys and left the apartment without another word. You grinned to yourself, thinking you had won this round.

You should have known better.

That night, when you went to grab something from the fridge, you discovered that everything you liked, your favorite snacks, your iced coffee, even the leftovers you had been looking forward to, were gone.

In their place, the fridge was fully stocked with only Monster Energy.

You stood there, staring at it, before calling out, "OSCAR."

Silence.

Then, from his bedroom, came a smug, "What?"

"You’re a child."

"I’m just preparing for your new energy drink addiction."

You slammed the fridge shut. "I hate you."

"Don’t drink my Monster next time."

The pettiness continued, but somewhere along the way, it softened.

Maybe it was the way Oscar started making two cups of coffee in the morning instead of one and never mentioning it, just leaving an extra mug on the counter for you. Maybe it was how you began grocery shopping together out of convenience, turning bickering over cereal brands into something weirdly normal. Maybe it was how, despite all the arguing, you realized you actually liked having him around.

One evening, you both ended up on the couch watching a reality show neither of you would admit to being invested in. It was late, the apartment quiet except for the background noise of contestants arguing over some ridiculous challenge. You felt yourself growing tired, curling up under your blanket, struggling to keep your eyes open.

At some point, without thinking, you let your head drop onto Oscar’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly but didn’t move away. There was no sarcastic remark, no dramatic sigh of protest, just a brief pause before he shifted, letting you settle against him more comfortably.

You mumbled something incoherent, too tired to care about what was happening, and Oscar just… stayed still.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then, barely above a whisper, he muttered, "…I don’t hate you, you know."

You wanted to reply. You wanted to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean. But sleep was already pulling you under, and before you could react, everything faded to black.

taglist : @sugarfreerbr , @no-144444 , @window-to-nothing , @judelina , @littlegrapejuice , @formulaal , @spikershoyo , @eclipsedcherry , @whispersofthewild , @1-queenofpotatoes-1 , @obxstiles , @poppysrin , @a-beaverhausen , @blakebearsblog , @fastandcurious16 , @imdyinghelpplease , @reginalaufeyson-holmes , @percy-jackson-fan909 | (comment to be added ... bolded couldn't be tagged)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[scary-noodlesblog]

Hey~ I kinda wanna put a wholesome ask in before I start being a whore again lmao

What would EJ, Toby, and Liu (if you wrote for him) do for their S/O who is scared of thunderstorms/lightning storms?

~ EJ Whore 💙

Thank you for the ask! This beloved anon also added Juno to this ask in a seperate one :)

TW: none, GN reader

EJ, Liu, Toby and Juno with an S/O who's scared of thunderstorms:

Eyeless Jack:

EJ doesnt like them

His heightened hearing, the thunder hurts his ears

His room is in the basement of the mansion so it helps muffle the sounds

He usually sits on his bed and reads, enjoying the peace, so he will have you in his lap, letting you read with him or he will read to you

He's naturally warm so it'll help with the cold air

Lots of cuddles, he's touch starved as fuck

Ticci Toby:

He also doesnt like them

Or any loud sound

It reminds him of his father

He likes the rain though, so if he has noise cancelling headphones hes good

But he would sacrifice those headphones to you if its the sound that scares you

The cuddles from you help him a lot anyway

Homicidal Liu

He actually loves them

Catch him on the porch with a mug of coffee while the rain pelts the roof

Liu will invite you to join him of course

But as soon as he knows you're afraid of them, he understands and instead sits by the window with you

Wraps you in a blanket in his lap, holding you comfortingly in hopes you'll semi-enjoy it

Juno (my OC):

Juno loved them before she became a demon

But now the thunder also hurts her ears

So she usually puts in her earbuds and listens to music and plays a video game

But with you, she instead plays music through a bluetooth speaker, loud enough where the thunder can only slightly be heard

Then she will offer you a controller so yall can play Minecraft or Stardew Valley, something peaceful

[writerblue275]

How Heartsteel would react catching their S/O singing/dancing to “Paranoia” (to their part if applicable)

Inspiration: Me being a dancing/singing/lip syncing fool every time I listen to the damn song, especially while I’m cleaning my apartment.

Genre: Headcanon

Category: FLUFF

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

TW: Swearing

^^(How did they get this GIF of me dancing?? 😂)

General things:

Setting the scene, let’s say it’s the first time they’re coming home after the song has released so they’re really getting your reaction to the finished song for the first time.

Ok let’s be clear, all of them would be so flattered and would love this.

Having a supportive partner means EVERYTHING TO THEM.

So even if I don’t put “it means a lot to them to catch you doing this, etc…etc…, it’s still implied.

Aphelios:

He’s had a long day in the studio working with Yone on the next album’s instrumentals after doing a debut music show, so he’s very ready to be home with you and to take it easy tonight.

Grins under his mask as he opens the door and hears “Paranoia” blasting on the Bluetooth speaker he got you for your birthday. He knows how much you love to jam to music!

Sneaks to wherever you are, not wanting to disrupt you and absolutely wanting to grab a photo he can send to Alune (after swearing her to secrecy [not that she would send the photo of you to anyone anyway! You and her are good friends too]).

Manages to get an excellent photo of you using the duster as a microphone, a smidge of dust on your cheek.

You’re so absorbed in your “performance” you don’t notice him at all.

Right after you mime the *ding ding ding* of the bell in Sett’s verse, your smart watch buzzes with a text message.

“I hate to disrupt your award-worthy performance, but what would you like for dinner? (Also you have a little dust on your cheek, cutie.)”

When you spin around and finally see him, he’s spinning his mask on his finger and giving you a sly grin, winking as you gasp in surprise and blush at being caught.

He grabs a tissue and gently wipes off your cheek before giving you a gentle kiss hello.

(I have a headcanon that he would primarily communicate to his partner using sign language)

*Signing* “I’m glad you enjoy our work, love!”

Seeing you love something he put so much effort and time into really brings him a LOT of pride and will continue to motivate him.

He helps you clean and asks you more about your thoughts on the song.

You were in the studio while he worked so you’ve heard parts of it, but you and him agreed that you shouldn’t hear the finished song until it released to the public. It was your suggestion actually. He was ready to let you listen to it early but you wanted to experience the full excitement of waiting for their debut just like everyone else.

Which he LOVED.

Ezreal:

This litTLE SHIT (said lovingly)!

Smug man #1

He will NEVER LET YOU FORGET THIS.

The SMIRK he has when he walks through the front door and hears the all-too-familiar intro to the song.

And when he hears you RAPPING along with Kayn’s part??

NO WAY is he missing this!!

He immediately makes his way to wherever you are and positions himself so he can see you without you seeing him.

Phone camera is at the ready.

Starts recording a video right before the pre-chorus begins and his part starts.

He can’t help but smile as you switch to lip syncing, clearly wanting to hear/focus on his voice.

You’ve told him many times how much you adore his singing voice.

(And he’ll never admit to anyone how much hearing you say that means to him but that’s a different story)

It takes every fiber of his being to not reveal himself while he’s recording.

He’s about two seconds from giggling.

Records through the end of the chorus before stopping the recording and immediately sending the video to the Heartsteel group chat with all the members and Alune. They all love you so he knows they’ll love seeing the video.

He puts his phone away and plans to sneak up on you. (Lmao sneak up? I mean flash.)

This man is an EXPERT at surprising you.

Flashes right behind you before the second pre-chorus starts and starts singing, bursting into laughter as you let out a surprised scream.

He gets a well deserved pillow to the face for that.

Later Yone texts you and tells you that he’s “glad you like the song enough to sing and dance to it throughout your daily tasks.”

And Aphelios hits you with the “:)”

And Ez gets another pillow to the face before bed.

Followed by a kiss because he is POUTING.

Kayn:

This SMUG motherfucker!! (Again, said lovingly!!!)

Smug man #2!!

Comes home to you cooking dinner for you and him, using the spatula as a mic.

Does THE shoulder lean against the door frame (y’all know what I mean, especially if you read romance novels) and just watches you with the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face.

That smirk only get bigger as the song ends and restarts and you don’t change it, telling him you’ve had their song on repeat for who knows how long!

If anything, you’re getting even more into it, starting to dance a little more now and adding some little ad libs while he raps.

Ex: “If you try to step to me, it’ll be the last time” You *in rhythm*: “FUCK YEAH”

He absolutely loves it.

Honestly you’re making him fall in love with you all over again.

Also gives him the idea to ask Alune if you can help make up the fan chants (although he’s sad because he knows they’ll have to be a bit more PG)

Can’t help himself as he lets out a chuckle, giving himself away in the process.

Holds his hands up peacefully as you spin around, ready to throw the spatula if needed.

“Sorry baby, I’m afraid you can’t use me for target practice.”

“God Damnit, Kayn, you know I scare easily! How long have you been home?”

“There’s a reason I stayed over here instead of startling you over there where there are a bunch more kitchen utensils you could have reacted with. And to answer your question, enough time for me to understand how much you seem to enjoy our song.”

You playfully, roll your eyes, shake your head, and smile as he comes over and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you hello.

He’d definitely tell the guys what he saw, but he wouldn’t film or photograph you (this time 😉).

K’Sante:

I get such immaculate vibes from Heartsteel K’Sante.

Like I’m a BTS fan (woot woot ARMY) and I get very very similar energy/vibes from K’Sante and RM.

Like I do not know what it is, but I would trust K’Sante with holding/watching my drink at a club if I needed to run to the restroom. He has that sort of good energy.

I suppose it’s the…safe? energy??

Absolutely hilarious to use that word considering the batshit things they did in that movie studio.😂

But you know what I mean!

And being in a relationship with someone who has this sort of energy would be A++++.

(I know this is a bit of a tangent but I swear it’s relevant to the topic)

K’Sante’s part in “Paranoia” has that same sort of energy to it. (It’s so hard to explain what I meannnn)

And when he catches you singing and dancing along to his part, the bridge of the song, while you’re folding/putting away laundry, I think he’d watch you for a couple moments.

But only a couple.

He’d make his presence known a bit earlier

Because then I think he’d come join you! ☺️

He’d start singing with you and encourage you to keep singing with him.

He’d gently pull you a little closer to him.

And obviously the slower paced part of bridge doesn’t last forever, but even then I think he’d still dance with you once the song ramped up with you (hard to explain but think casual dancing with a partner at a club/bar).

It would be so FUN??? Such a fun sweet moment between the two of you.

He’d of course then help you fold the laundry.

“It’s only fair since I distracted you from it for a bit!”

You’d keep listening to music with him as you both get some chores done around the house.

Definitely making sure to take time for more dance breaks (duhhhh).

Sett:

(A/N: I love the entirety of “Paranoia” but something about Sett’s verse makes me absolutely FERAL!! THE LYRICS. THE VIBE. THE INSTRUMENTALS. PerFECTION! ØZI fucking nailed it.)

When I first started thinking about this, I thought that Sett would be smug guy #3.

Now I’m not quite so stuck to that idea.

Oh don’t get me wrong, he’d definitely hug you and tease you once you saw him watching you and blushed a deep red.

But they would mainly be half-hearted teases.

And internally? You know this man is melting about you and how lucky he is to have you as his partner and how much he loves you.

Sett clearly has such a soft side for the people he truly loves and cares about.

Have you seen how much he adores his Mama???

You are like the only other person who can really bring that soft side out of him.

And catching you already having the lyrics to his verse down 100% is something that would bring that out of him.

Speaking of his Mama…

Sett would absolutely take photos or videos of you.

But they’re only going to one person.

That’s right, to Mama.

We’re going to assume that his mother really likes you and you really like her. (You think this man is going to be with someone his mother doesn’t get along with? BFFR)

Though let me say I think she’d be very easy to get along with.

Like I definitely don’t think she’s the mother-in-law from hell I keep seeing stories about on TikTok.

But anyway, he just wants to show off his favorite person to his other favorite person (who also adores his favorite person).

And little do you and Sett know but that just inspired Mama to knit you a sweater that matches the beanie she made that he wore in the MV. As like a holiday present!

(I’m so sorry this one was admittedly a little self-indulgent but I think it’s so cute!)

Yone:

Oh this man.

Obviously everyone has worked extremely hard so that Heartsteel can debut. Everyone has had late nights and long days on little sleep.

But as Heartsteel’s main producer…

(Not to mention band mom!!)

Yone really had a record number of late nights at the studio.

Reworking a passage over and over and over….

And OVER

Until it’s right (or until Aphelios/Alune drag him out of the studio at 3am telling him to work on it tomorrow with fresh ears).

And he’d never tell you, but you know he’s felt really bad about all those late nights. All those nights he wasn’t with you.

Potential dates missed because of deadlines.

Not that you were angry with him or anything.

You love him and you know how much pressure he’s put on himself.

And the last thing you want to do is potentially add more pressure on him.

In fact, you and him made a routine the past couple months. Whenever he’d have to work on the weekends, you’d come over to his studio each night during the weekend and bring a movie/couple episodes of a show and takeout.

And he gladly lets you pull his attention away from work for other media and cuddles.

(I feel like in private Yone would be more cuddly than one might expect of a stoic man like him.)

But during these media breaks??

This tall man was like a damn koala the way he cuddled you (not that you were complaining).

So seeing you sing and dance to the song he produced…

Even though the production of this song meant you often went to bed alone….

Was so fucking cathartic for him.

It made him feel like every sacrifice was worth it. Just to see how happy you were to dance and sing to the song he put so much of himself into.

His expression would be so soft as he watched you.

And after you noticed him and gave him a smile, he’d come over and give you a hug, burying his face against your neck.

You are his MUSE, and don’t you forget it.

Ahh thank you for reading! This is my first bit of creative writing in over 5 years, so apologies if it’s not great!

Shout out to @coco6420 for telling me on my main account to not stop myself when I talked about being tempted to post headcanons for Arcane/Heartsteel. Well here we go. 😂

[rninies]

LATE NIGHT DANCING SESSION ft suna rintarou — suna inviting you to dance instead of sleeping late at night

wc: 0.7k ノcw + tw: fem!reader, pet names (baby), suna is a good dancer and you're not lmao, fluff just pure fluff

suna rintarou is an insufferable man.

sure he has been your boyfriend for a year already, but you are still not used to his stupid antics, always dragging you to stupid and silly scenarios.

tonight is one of those nights, unfortunately. instead of sleeping early for classes tomorrow, suna turned on his bluetooth speaker, blasting loud music.

“rin-” you covered your ears, not wanting your ears to bleed. “could you lower the volume?!” instead of replying, suna only shrugged, vibing to the music. “rin!”

“WHAT?” suna replies loudly. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

you rolled your eyes and walked over to the speaker, immediately pausing the song. “are you crazy? you’re going to wake the neighbors!”

“baby please,” suna huffs. “they’re never going to complain. besides, i’m pretty sure they’re night owls too.”

“and how would you know that?” you asked. “you’ve never even talked to them!”

suna stops in his place. “h-how would you know if i have or never have talked to our neighbours? i’m not as shy as you!”

you scoff. “yeah right. you’re not shy but you certainly dislike talking to people you’ve never met! come on rin, i’ve been with you for more than a year already. don’t act like i don’t know you.”

“seriously you never let me have my fun anymore,” suna pouts fiddling with the speaker. as he is about to turn it off, he pauses, and you can practically see a lightbulb turn on beside his head. “hey, y/n?”

“what…?” you ask, though you have a feeling it’s not going to be good.

“can we dance together?” suna asks, and you immediately shake your head. “what? why?” he practically whines when you start stepping away from him.

“you know how bad of a dancer i am!” you exclaim. “i’m not the best at this.”

“you've stepped on my foot at least ten times, trust me, i know.” suna replies. “come on, dance with me once and we can go to sleep. the earlier we do this the more sleep we can get for tomorrow’s class. we have your least favorite class tomorrow, right?”

you gasp. “oh my god you’re right.” you bit your lip, contemplating whether you should take his offer or not. seeing suna cock his head to the side a little with his hand stretched out in front of him makes you sigh in defeat. “okay fine. but you better lend me your notes tomorrow! i am not going to be taking notes.”

“you have a deal.” suna grabs your hand pulling you closer to him. “what song would you like to dance to?”

“anything that isn’t too long,” you say. suna smiles, and once again, instead of complying with your wishes, he chooses a song that lasts about 5 whole minutes. “suna-!”

“you won’t even notice how long it is, trust me.” suna cuts you off before you can say anything. “just trust me.” he presses play and a slow song starts. suna guides you slowly, making sure you can remember all the steps. “why are you so stiff? loosen up a little.”

“i’m trying,” you huff. “it’s just- it’s weird…”

“what’s weird, hm?” suna asks so softly. “don’t tell me it’s weird dancing with me?”

“no!” you protested, trying to relax your body. “it’s just weird how you’re so good at dancing. i didn't know you knew how to dance.” 

“and you say you know me well. there's a lot you don't know about me, then.” suna teases you, to which you pout.

catching you off guard, suna suddenly dips your waist, and you immediately wrap your arms around his shoulder. “oh my god- suna rintarou! what the hell was that?!”

“what? it’s the most classic dance move to ever exist!” suna smiles, keeping your body steady with his arms. “don’t tell me you’ve never dreamed of doing this dance with your sweet and handsome boyfriend before?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “as if. i can’t dance, why would i even dream of doing that?”

“aw, you’re breaking my heart, love.” suna pouts slightly, and the song ends just as he says that.

“wha-” your eyes drift over to the speaker as suna lifts you back up. “the song’s over already?”

suna hums. “mhm. you want more?” he gives you a teasing smirk, and you immediately shake your head.

“nope! it’s time for bed, come on we have a long day tomorrow with that boring lecture.” you quickly push suna’s back to your shared bedroom.

suna could only laugh, letting himself get pushed around by you. 

[streetchicken]

It's 3 am, it's hot, I can't sleep-

So have some domestic NikPrice inspired by a version of Stroganoff my family makes :)

No beta, we go down like my math grades

Tw: Suggestive, badly written and very indulgent vwv

"Beef liver?"

Price pulls his nose up in barely contained disgust at the little paper wrapped package haphazardly tossed onto the kitchen island. A slab of unassuming dark meat that had Price's hackles raised. "Nik, I love you t'bits, but d'you have to feed me dog food?"

It looked positively slimy and alive. So much so that the Brit could barely hold back from poking it.

"Leave the meat, Малыш. You'll ruin it." Nik swoops in, ever the knight in shining armour, and snatches the liver from Price's mitts.

"Nik, it's liver, not a baby." Price sighs in return, now leaning his hip against the counter seeing as his partner had taken his only source of entertainment. "'t's not like i'can die."

The pout Price recieves from the Russian in return is childish. He just out his lower lip, scrunches his eyebrows and cradles the organ slab gently. "Don't say that, Малыш. Liver is good, you would not hurt liver's feelings."

Price produces an indignant snorting laugh that he has to clumsily hide with a cough. His hand flies to hide his lips as he turns his eyes away from the now beaming Russian.

Nik on the other hand? He can't be more pleased that he got the captain to laugh like that. He looks like a dog with a bone while he sets the liver aside.

"Ah, you laugh. I win." He proudly declares, picking up an onion to start peeling.

"Ya didn' win squat." Price tries to counter while he reaches for the peeler and a potato. Nik allows him to help.

"I won a laugh."

"Wot has that got ta do wit' winnin'?"

"Your laugh, Малыш."

Well Price had nothing to say against that. He's much too flustered now, flushed from the chops to his ears. "Touché."

Nik huffs a breath at the little victory, adjusting the halved onion on the cutting board and dicing it.

It's days like these that keep Nik sober. Without them, and Price, he swears he'd be condemned to the bottle by now. Drinking away whatever demons stalked his bedroom shadows. To think there had been a time when he lacked the gentle quiet. When he'd lived off blood, gunpowder and caffeine. When he only ever slowed down to enjoy some foreign meal or company. To think he was content to settle for it.

Nik takes a deep breath, focusing on the rhythmic tap of tbe blade against the chopping board. To his left, Price's breathing and the sound of potatoes being peeled, to his right, a well loved Bluetooth speaker mulling the tunes of some 80s song Price had insisted on.

The onions are swooped into the pot with some oil and garlic. "This stew is from my childhood."

"O'yeah?"

"Da. One of the few happy memories I was allowed."

Price's tongue sits thickly against the roof of his mouth at Nikolai's confession. Blue eyes settle on the russian's back. The white cotton seems so innocently bright in the soft canter of afternoon sunlight.

"D'you...miss 'em?" Price asks. His words are soft, delicate, almost swallowed by a tune in the music. "Th'good days, I mean."

"Nyet." Nik answers truthfully. "They were...still cold."

Another beat. The silence is thick. Price looks down at the half peeled potato in his hands instead of his partner's back. Finally he decides to continue.

"Fokin' 'ell, Nik. Not in front of th' liver." Price groans, peeling the last bits of skin from the potato.

The notion earns his a barely there snort from Nik, but an amused sound nonetheless. Nik turns, plucks up the potato and leaves Price with a peck against his temple and a soft smile.

Price smiles himself, watching Nikolai work on the stew. He admires how focused Nik is on feeding him, it's a lovely change of pace from field rations and the bland slop they usually get on base. Price might be feeling a little spoilt.

"Onions, aromatics, vegetables, meat, broth. Da, that should be all for now." Nik mutters to himself and turns to face his partner and offers a hand. He bends down a little with one of his mischievously charming smiles that highlight the crinkle around his eyes. "Which gives us some time."

"Flirt." Price rumbles in return, feeling heat on his cheeks as his hand slips into Nikolai's.

Price is pulled up against a firm chest, his hand finding Nik's shoulder while the latter's free hand settles warmly against the small of his back. God Price could barely keep a shiver down.

Nik pulls him into a little sway and jig. Despite his bulk and the small space of the flat's kitchen, Nikolai still manages to maneuver them to the beat of Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the dark".

They bounce to the beat, Price mouthing the words as they go along. Nik shifts them away from the stove as they mingle in the light of the waning afternoon sun. They nearly trip over the striped rug tossed between the stove and the sink.

Price follows along. Nik's a better dancer than him anyway, he'd glad to let his partner lead as Price swears he has two left feet no matter the song era. "Y're good a'this!"

"Da, had some practice. Lots of fun clubs in Berlin." Nik muses. His fingers toy with the hem of Price's t-shirt where they've settled at the bottom of the Brit's spine. "Though, not the only thing those clubs taught me."

"Cheeky git-" Price snorts.

Price rolls his eyes and sets a foot between Nik's own and pushes. He maneuvers the man till his back settles against a countertop and Price could worm his hands to plant on said counter top on either side of Nik's waist. "Don't s'ppose ya could back those claims, Sergeant?"

Nik's breath hitches at his old rank. He's left those days behind him when he denounced his position in the Soviet army, but to hear it come from the man he reapects so much?

"I make arrangements, da." He swallows hard, throat suddenly dry. Nik is suddenly hyper-aware of that muscular thigh pressed between his legs.

"Ah, now would ya look at that." Price muses. "Haven't seen ya that red since that night in the Black Hawk."

"Can't blame a man, can you? Not when he's at his Captain's mercy." God the flirting wouldn't work now, Nik's already lost the upper hand. He braces his hands on Price's forearms, desperate to feel the flex of muscle under skin.

"Is that so?" Price coos, his voice dropping to that low gravel that has Nikolai dizzy. His baby blues flick appreciatively over the man's neck.

Unable to resist, lips press firmly to the hollow of Nik's neck. Soft, demanding, they trail little embers up to the pulse. Nick swallows, he can feel his heart gallop in his chest and stick in his throat.

"You seem a tad nervous, luv." Price taunts. His hands slip from the counter to find the curve of Nikolai's hips. His thigh presses forwards and up.

"Nyet, not nervous." Nik gasps. The square if gis shoulders falter with the full body shiver. Price's lips are impossibly warm as they find the edge of Nik's jaw. It has him closing his eyes to stop the world, Price, from spinning. Jus'...I...John."

"Yeah?" Price muses, smiling where he's inches from Nik's face.

Fuck, Nik can feel it. Feel him. Smell him. Him and his Yardley English Blazer cologne. "Малыш- need. I need- John, please-"

Oh Price likes when Nik asks so softly.

Lips meet lips in a soft embrace. Almost like the casual atmosphere has the kiss lazy and easy. They barely notice the first cords of "Careless Whisper" strum over the speaker. But it isn't long before Nik's hands find the front of Price's shirt hem. Or until Price had his fingers securely tucked into the curls at Nikolai's nape.

The leverage lets Price press Nik fowards. He forces a soft sound between Nik's lips. The heat of his tongue finds the other's. He presses to overwhelm. His free hand dips below the elastic of Nik's sweats to find the fat at the man's hip.

The sound is soft, barely audible. A breathy little gasp that has Price scrambling to lift roughly 100 kilograms of Russian muscle onto the counter. Their lips part, but Price eagerly liberates Nik of his shirt so he could trail heated kisses from his throat to his sternum.

"John-" Nik starts, getting cut off by his own breather groan as he's palmed through his sweats.

Price could feel the heat pool between Nik's legs as he slots his hips to fit perfectly between the man's thighs. He nuzzles his nose to the black curls that adorn Nik's chest and lets himself just exist like that for a moment. He admires how sunlight glints over silver scars and the carpet on Nik's chest, admires the colour adorning Nik's cheeks and shoulders. His head is fuzzy with the feel of Nik against him, his partner shuddering with his arousal pressed to Price's palm. Intoxicating. Addictive even.

Nik threads his fingers through the messy brown locks.

Price continues his trail of kisses. They follow the contours of Nik's abdomen. Down to his navel. Gently down the trail of dark curls. His teeth hook the elastic of Nik's grey sweats. The man practically whimpers at the display.

Until he's not and Price is shoved back in Nik's panic to get to the stove. Price sighs and runs a hand over his face.

"New low f'me-" he groans "-gettin' cock blocked by a bloody stew."

Nik only offers him a shrug as he adds some cream, turns off the heat and places the lid back on. That's when he turns and Price's tongue goes lax at the sunlight framing Nikolai's face in dark curls and a soft glow.

"Well-" Nik coos, stalking closer to his partner "-it is done. I am certain it would be...some time before it is cool enough to eat."

Price suddenly feels very claustrophobic with his back against a counter and Nik's dark eyes so intently on him.

"I never minded cold stew anyway."

[harrywavycurly]

I miss killer!eddie 😔

Hiii babes!! Awe I miss him too, I have a little tiny thing for you and I hope you enjoy it!💖

*I know this isn’t for everyone so if it’s not your thing then just scroll on by babes*

TW: mentions of a deceased body

-find all things serial killer Eddie here✨

“Hey baby,” Eddie holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder so it doesn’t fall to the floor. “How’s the girl’s night going?” He raises an eyebrow as he hears you let out a sad sigh.

“We just got out of a movie.” Your voice is rough letting Eddie know you’ve been crying, he instinctively feels his grip tighten on the roll of tape he has in his hands. “I didn’t like it.” You sniffle making Eddie’s heart drop as he quickly places the tape into his duffle bag before zipping it up.

“I’m sorry Princess what was it about?” He asks as he looks around the kitchen that doesn’t belong to him to make sure he didn’t forget anything. He grabs the phone with his right hand and puts you on speaker but is quick to mute you so he can finish dealing with the man that’s currently zip tied to one of his own dining room chairs.

“It was scary.” Eddie runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh because he knows how you handle scary movies and it’s not well. “They want to go to dinner.” Eddie unmutes you and it’s as if he can just picture you now, standing outside the movie theater with a pout on your face as your friends try to make plans for the rest of the night.

“But?” He asks as he walks over to the man and bends down so he can gently remove the tape from his mouth knowing he isn’t going to be making any sounds that’ll have you wondering what he’s doing, due to the fact that Eddie made it to where the man tied to the chair won’t be making any kind of noise ever again.

“I miss you.” Eddie smiles as he stands up and walks back into the man’s kitchen to grab his duffle bag.

“I miss you too baby.” He responds in his sweet soothing tone that he knows makes you feel better in situations like this. “How about I come get you and we can go to Target and check out their Valentine’s Day stuff? I know you want some new pillows for the living room.” He can practically hear you smiling over the phone and it makes him smile to himself as he does one final sweep of the kitchen and living room making sure there’s nothing that can pinpoint him to the untimely demise of the man tied to the chair.

“You’d do that?” Eddie playfully rolls his eyes at your question while he mutes you as he shuts the garage door before climbing into his truck where he unmutes you so he can answer your silly question.

“Of course sweetheart.” He answers as his phone connects to his car’s Bluetooth letting him place his phone on the center console so he can take the booties off that he had covering his boots so he wouldn’t leave boot marks anywhere. “I can be there in five minutes.” You let out a noise of excitement making Eddie laugh because you’re just too cute sometimes.

“Okay I’ll be outside waiting for you.” Eddie nods and looks down at his dashboard and sees it’s a bit cold outside. “And yes I have my new jacket on so you can’t miss me.” He smiles because it’s as if you could read his mind and knew he was going to ask if you had your new puffy pink jacket on.

“Okay baby I’ll see you soon.” Eddie states as he places his duffle bag under his seat before backing out of the driveway. “I love you.” You say it back before hanging up. “Oh shit.” Eddie mumbles as he puts the truck in park and quickly gets out and grabs the little tool kit from his back pocket while heading to the back of the vehicle. He looks around before he quickly unscrews the licenses plate on his truck so his real one can now be visible, not worried about someone seeing it now that it’s getting dark outside. “Now time to go get the princess.” He mumbles as he gets back into the driver’s seat so he can head to the movie theater to pick you up.

[tainted-liquor]

'Make it Awkward...⋆｡°✩

E1610!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Awkward teen love like rlly rlly awkward W/C: 1.8k A/N: SZA Inspired fic ❤︎!! another cute lil req from my 100 special!

You and Miles had developed a sturdy friendship in middle school, with you always being hyped up as the "art kid" in each of your classes. Initially, he was a little bit bitter because he didn't really understand what the hype was all about. He could draw, and he could do it just as good as you. Which, granted was indeed true, but your work felt like something out of a Van Gogh discography. Each and every one of your paintings and drawings almost looked like there was a filter over them, like something out of a flurry dream that evoked nostalgia and warmth in whoever seemed to view them. To say he was inspired by you was an understatement, he wanted to drown himself in everything that was your talent.

But as time passed and spiders bit, you two grew apart from each other on account of him semi-blowing you off for Gwen. You stopped hanging out slowly, he began to drop art and pick up a sudden interest in physics and inter-dimensional travel, and even got...meaner? The kind and innocent kid that once was Miles suddenly became jumpy and antsy. You thought that you two had something worth way more than any other friendship you had, but one day shit just shifted into complete, and total, awkward silence. But as time heals all wounds, you slowly began talking again at the top of this month, right before your summer came to its close.

Miles quietly hummed along to the steady bump of the music in his headphones, nodding to the rhythm as he began illustrating a head in his sketchbook. As 'Les' By Childish Gambino slowly fizzed out and the electronic chords of 'Awkward' By SZA became known, his sketch started to warp a little. He didn't necessarily remember how or when, but he noticed his sketch become a lot less androgynous and more familiar, with twinkling brown eyes and thick curly hair becoming more detailed with each pencil stroke. It took him a while to realize, but eventually, he had drawn...you. Down to the finest details as well, your smile lines and your perfectly sculpted Nubian nose.

What he hadn't anticipated was filling up the next 2 pages of his sketchbook with both your face and the signature crochet fingerless gloves you wore during the winter. What initially was just a warmup while waiting for you to arrive at his house turned into a full-blown drawing session with you as the muse. You weren't even there and he still had drawn you 100% accurately from memory. He sighed as his playlist continued to play out a steady stream of nothing but SZA, leaning back in his chair as he stared up at the ceiling before he heard a knock on his room door. "Ah-Come in!" he yelped as he quickly put away his sketchbook, swapping out the pencils and paint markers for paintbrushes and canvases.

You gently pushed open the door, showing Miles your painted tote bag full of art supplies, such as watercolors, charcoal, oil paints, three palettes, and various paintbrushes. "Hey, Miles! Sorry, it took me a lil bit...that fuckin' line in the art store was INSANE" you chirped as you slowly entered Miles's room and set down your bag. You placed your shoes in the corner of his room before walking over to sit on his bed. He pulled off his headphones, gently placing them on their stand before spinning around in his indigo desk chair. "That's fine! Don't even worry about it I know how full them stores get" he shrugs as he grabs his Bluetooth speaker from off his shelf, motioning for you to follow him as he stacks the canvases and art supplies in his hands.

"C'mon, there's not enough space in my room for two people to paint," he explains as he climbs the stairs up to his apartment roof. You followed closely behind him, setting up the art supplies as he fidgeted with his speaker. You lean back against the wall as you sit on the concrete roof, taking in the pretty sky as you sketch out some buildings and a landscape on your canvas. "So how's summer for you, huh? What's her name...Gwen was it? How'd things go over with her?" You ask as you begin to add minor details to your sketch. Truth be told it ate you up every single time he would mention her in your past conversations, with you having a small...thing for him that grew over time.

"Oh! Uh, Gwen...yeah. Things went south, we don't really talk anymore..." He shrugs as he rips the plastic off of a rather large canvas. You nodded slowly, indicating that you were hanging on to his every word as you cracked open a fresh bottle of paint thinner, pouring it into a small glass cup before coating your brush in the clear mineral spirit. You slather a couple of shades of deep blue, rusty orange, bright magenta, and off-white on your paint palette as you work to form that beautiful 'sunset gradient' on your canvas. He connects his phone to the small black speaker, his playlist resuming quietly in the background. "But how's your summer been?" he asks as he mirrors the process of sitting beside you and leaning against the wall.

"My summer's been fine actually. Nothing too eventful, no trips or nothing, just taking a couple...ahem...adventures!" You explain as you recall how you nearly got in trouble with the police for trespassing in various abandoned locations for funsies. Miles gives you a playful side-eye, looking you up and down. "You sound a lil sketchy...what did YOU do this summer?" he chuckled as he began sketching out some scenery and what looked like the early stages of a body on his canvas. "Shhhh, your dad's a cop" you giggled as you picked up a smaller brush, filling in the buildings and scenery in your painting. You both chuckled at the slight confession, looking ahead of you so you could get an accurate view of what you were currently painting.

You took a small glance at what Miles was currently sketching, getting a good look at the faceless humanoid figure sitting cross-legged, with an unidentified object that vaguely resembled a pencil in her hand as she drew on her...face? Eyeliner maybe? You hummed along to 'Supermodel' By SZA. You held up your canvas closer to Miles's canvas, analyzing the difference in art styles. Yours was much more realistic, and heavily influenced by the world around you with your unique play on your color palette. whereas Miles was more stylized and thought out, the colors remaining true to their actual hue.

"What do you think this needs more of?" you ask as you tilt your canvas towards Miles. He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly so he could thoroughly analyze the painting. "More shine to the light sources maybe? Like a soft glow!" he beamed as he pointed towards the canvas with the opposite end of his paintbrush. You nod with your signature full smile, smile leans indicating your raw and unfiltered joy. Miles's eyes lingered on you for a couple of seconds before he madly swiped away at his canvas, seemingly blocking out more details with darker shades of watercolor.

You spent the next four hours, yes, four hours giggling like children as Miles sang along terribly to some of the songs on his playlist, starting a mini karaoke session on his roof with the both of you. It began to get cold and dark, so you decided you would pick up the canvases again after going inside to get something to eat. He grabbed his speaker and supplies, leaving his large canvas on the roof of his building before disappearing through the door to his apartment complex. You stuffed most of what you wanted to bring back down into your bag, before deciding to look over at Miles's painting. It looked exactly like you, but you were younger.

You remembered that damn scrunchie you had locked on your wrist, your favorite dark red satin scrunchie that went perfectly with your uniform. You shifted slightly to get a better angle of the canvas, watching as 8th grade you sprung to life in the form of doing your eyeliner on the bathroom sink. Miles had been there with you, watching as you painfully kneeled on the edge of the sink and leaned hazardously close to the mirror. You smiled softly to yourself as you noticed each beauty mark you had perfectly positioned on your face, from each scar to every minor indent in your smile. You chuckled quietly before swinging open the door and bolting down the stairs, straight to Miles's room.

And there he was, viciously fucking up a cup of noodles like someone would take it from him at any moment. "Damn, is it good? it ain't goin' nowhere now..." you joked with wide eyes as he gestured to an identical cup cooling off by his mini desk fan. You ate alongside him in silence, not really knowing what to say to each other. "I see you're still painting like in middle school...?" he states, referring to your distinct blurred style of painting. "Huh...Oh! Yeah, haha. I miss middle school kinda." You shrug as you sit the cup down on the side of his desk.

"Really? I always thought you thought I was a lil annoying back in middle school. I think you were my quietest friend ever" he joked as he finished his cup, dunking it in his trash can. "Huh? I literally thought you were the cutest thing ever! If I thought you were annoying I would've told you!" you stated with a small chuckle. Miles seemed to think for a moment, pausing as he processed the first half of your sentence. "Wait, you thought I was cute this whole time?" He asked with wide eyes. "Yeah! I was quiet cuz I didn't wanna fuck anything up! I think I had the fattest crush on you!" you laughed as you realized he thought that YOU thought he was annoying this whole time.

He gawked for a minute, his jaw slacked and eyes even wider than before. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" he semi-shouted as he began pacing around his room. You could only laugh, saying "We were like 10 and I didn't know if you would've liked me back." He looked at you as if you had 2 heads, going on some long rant about how he always thought you just weren't interested or thought he was annoying. You silently got up from his bed, walking over to him and stopping him entirely.

Miles looked at you with a rather confused and amused expression, probably still processing the fact that you openly admitted to liking him in middle school. But nothing in the world could have prepared him for the delicate kiss that you placed on his lips. He eagerly closed the space between the two of you, wrapping one arm around your waist almost by instinct. You pulled away from him after what felt like years, muttering a small "Who taught you that?"

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

ׂ╰┈➤ Disability(?) headcanons for the states (based on this post 👍, I’m mainly handing over the physical disability hc’s) ✮⋆˙

(TW: war, fires, and abuse mentions/implications)

Texas is blind in one eye (injury from Mexico during the Texas Revolution), he has asthma, and is deaf in one ear (same side as his blind eye, it’s from an explosion during the Civil War)

Michigan is hard of hearing (not my hc, I’ve just seen it around and i think it’s a good hc! I’m not exactly sure how it happened)

Louisiana is missing half an arm (his forearm, and he has a prosthetic) and has some really bad burn scars along the right side of his body (mainly torso, shoulder, part of his thigh, a bit of his neck, and what’s left of his right arm, this all happened during the one of the fires of New Orleans. He had gotten trapped when saving people), and the scars still sometimes give him issues to this day (mainly pain and itchiness)

Florida has a prosthetic leg (knee and down, anyone wanna guess how that happened?)

New York uses crutches sometimes because he has some issues with his legs and hips (due to injuries from Great Britain before the American Revolution). He doesn’t use them all the time, just on days when he’s hurting really bad. He also has a softer, more raspy voice due to a neck/throat injury (it hurts for him to be loud, guess who’s the reason for the injury?).

Washington (state) has REALLY bad vision

Gov has chronic migraines and back pain (due to constantly working, as well as some war injuries)

I believe this is @mittenstroll ‘s headcanon, South Dakota uses a wheel chair (possible injury from something that left him paralyzed from the waist down maybe?)

Massachusetts has really bad back pain and is deaf in one ear (both due to war injuries, though I haven’t decided which war/wars he got them from)

Kentucky and Colorado both have asthma

West Virginia is diabetic

Mississippi has a prosthetic leg (whole leg, lost it in an explosion (I think I wrote about how it happened on Wattpad))

Kentucky is hard of hearing (constantly working on cars, especially loud cars, with a Bluetooth speaker turned to its max volume, will do that)

Pennsylvania should really invest in a pair of glasses.

^So should Virginia.

Georgia has narcolepsy

Alaska has hypersomnia

Wyoming is missing an entire leg (he was sitting around at Yellowstone waiting for a tourist to fuck around and find out via the bison, and didn’t notice the angry bison approaching him. I’ll leave the rest to the imagination.

Montana has scoliosis

Feel free to tell me what y’all think of these headcanons, and as always, feel free to add on/add your own!

[angeltheghoul]

Sooo uhhh Copia headcannons because I was terribly sick on Ghost Day(TW: depression,eds(its recovery based but still) and a little bit of angst) also spoilers for Rite Here Rite Now.

-Copia has struggled with his appearance since he was a teenager but he’s been recovering with the help of his ghouls he does still of course have his days but he knows he can go talk to someone about it.

-Copia has depression(pretty sure that’s canon) but it gets the worst after Sisters passing and funeral. He doesn’t eat or sleep for days on end after thinking about the fact he’s lost a mother he never got to fully know and the only thing that pulls him out of it is the fact that Aether comes to talk to him and remind him that she’d be so proud of how far he’s come and that his doing great as Frater Imperator. Which whether Aether knows it or not is exactly what he needed to hear.

-Okay more lighthearted one…Copia absolutely adores any kind of music even pop music it’s not unusual to find him blasting ABBA or Bowie as he works on his paperwork. He also sings in the shower loud as he can with the music blasting from a Bluetooth speaker.

-Copias love language is absolutely acts of service both giving and receiving. He loves to do things for the people he loves! Examples: He’ll bring food to the infirmary or greenhouse to make sure Phantom or Mountain are actually eating since they tend to forget(and of course they invite him to share),He keeps an eye on Dewdrop to make sure he can tell when the fire ghoul is getting a little to heated or is feeling down and try to help him anyway he can. (Dew does the same thing for him in return),He reminds Rain to take his anxiety meds before they go out so that he won’t panic so easy.(Rain in return reminds Copia of his own meds) etc..

Okay my brains stopped for now but yeah Copia ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | Independence Day

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @runnergirl234) : celebrating the fourth of july with your f1 boyfriend <3

୨ৎ : genre : comedic romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : fireworks??? idk... ୨ৎ : word count : 3148

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : you guys should know how much of a sucker i am when it comes to introducing someone to a different culture, this was so so so fun to write🥲

ʚ・max verstappen

max didn’t get it.

“so, you just eat a lot and blow things up?” he crossed his arms, eyes narrowing like this was some elaborate prank.

“pretty much,” you said, handing him a beer.

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “you americans are insane.” but he cracked open the beer anyway.

the backyard was packed. the grill smoked, the table was buried under piles of burgers and hot dogs, and a guy in an eagle tank top was aggressively tong-flipping ribs like his life depended on it. kids sprinted past with sparklers, and someone had already set off a rogue firework that nearly took out a lawn chair.

max surveyed the chaos like he was analyzing a new circuit. someone shoved a hot dog into his hand, and he stared at it like it was an untested setup change.

“no cutlery?”

“no, max. just eat it.”

he sighed but took a bite anyway. chewed. nodded slightly. “not bad. bit plain.”

he grabbed the mustard and squeezed way too hard. a horrifying amount of it slopped onto the bun. he stared at it for a long moment before taking another bite. his expression didn’t change, but you could see the regret.

“this was a mistake.”

when the fireworks started, he barely reacted at first, just tilting his head to watch as red and blue bursts lit up the sky. the next one was louder, the kind that rattled your ribs. he flinched, just a little.

“bit excessive,” he muttered.

someone handed him a sparkler, and he held it like it might explode in his fingers.

“just wave it around,” you said. “it’s fun.”

max verstappen does not “wave things around for fun.” but after a few seconds, he started moving it in small, cautious circles, still frowning in deep concentration. then, like it was a matter of principle, he traced out the number 1 in the air.

of course.

you laughed. he shot you a glare. “say nothing.”

the grand finale kicked in, launching fireworks in rapid, ear-shattering bursts. max, now fully resigned to the chaos, took a long sip of his beer and gave a small nod.

“alright,” he admitted. “i kind of get it.”

another firework exploded so hard it shook the ground. he blinked.

“…still think you’re all insane, though.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis adjusted his bucket hat, surveying the backyard scene with an amused but slightly wary expression. smoke curled from the grill, country music blared from a bluetooth speaker, and someone was setting up a folding table for what had been described to him as “competitive beer pong.”

“you lot take this holiday seriously, huh?” he mused, sipping on an iced matcha he had brought himself.

“it’s america’s birthday,” you said.

he chuckled. “right. and what’s the game plan? burgers and blowing things up?”

“basically.”

lewis shook his head, grinning. “so, absolute carnage, then.”

he fit in better than he probably expected. within ten minutes, he was deep in conversation about plant-based grilling techniques with someone’s confused but intrigued uncle. he took over the aux at one point, replacing the country anthems with smooth r&b, nodding along as he flipped a veggie burger with the confidence of a seven-time world champion.

when someone handed him a sparkler, he twirled it effortlessly between his fingers, making little figure eights in the air. “alright, i see the appeal,” he admitted, watching the light trail behind his movements.

then came the fireworks.

lewis leaned back in his chair, watching the first one explode across the sky. his sunglasses, which he had no reason to still be wearing at night, reflected the red and blue bursts.

“these are, what… not regulated?” he asked as another one screamed into the sky.

“not really.”

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “man, if i did this in monaco, they’d fine me and take my yacht.”

still, he looked genuinely impressed. when the grand finale hit, shaking the ground with an almost comical level of intensity, he let out a low whistle.

“alright, america,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. “you do know how to put on a show.”

just as he said it, someone behind him lit an illegal firecracker that shot sideways, barely missing a parked truck. lewis instinctively dodged, years of racing reflexes kicking in.

he stared at the scorched grass for a long moment, then slowly turned back to you.

“yeah, i’m gonna stick to silverstone celebrations.”

ʚ・george russell

george arrived looking like he had just walked out of a country club. polo tucked in, hair perfectly styled, white sneakers that had clearly never touched a patch of grass. he took a slow, deliberate look around the backyard. shirtless guys were shotgunning beers, someone was wrestling with a grill that was clearly too hot, and kids were launching bottle rockets dangerously close to a tree. he exhaled through his nose and adjusted his watch like he was mentally preparing for what was about to unfold.

"alright," he muttered to himself. "let’s see how this goes."

at first, he took the polite approach. he asked well-structured questions about barbecue techniques, nodded attentively as someone explained the art of smoking ribs, and accepted a plate of food he clearly didn’t recognize with a determined sort of curiosity.

then he saw the keg stand.

he narrowed his eyes, watching as a group of guys hoisted someone upside down, beer pouring straight from the keg into his mouth while the crowd chanted encouragement.

"what exactly is happening there?" he asked, arms crossed.

you explained. he blinked. "and people enjoy this?"

before you could answer, someone clapped a hand on his back. a very large, very enthusiastic man in an american flag tank top grinned at him. "you're up next, british boy."

george let out a small, nervous chuckle, glancing at you like he was waiting for an escape. you just grinned. "it’s tradition."

for a moment, it looked like he might back out. then something shifted in his expression. that familiar look of determination. the same way he looked before attempting an impossible overtake. he squared his shoulders, handed you his drink, and nodded once.

"alright. if i’m doing this, i’m doing it properly."

what followed was the most technically flawless keg stand anyone had ever seen. a perfect lift-off, immaculate form, and balance so steady it looked choreographed. when he landed back on the ground, he wiped his mouth, adjusted his polo, and looked around.

"was that acceptable?"

the entire backyard erupted.

by the time the fireworks started, he was fully committed. the polo had been replaced with a ridiculous red, white, and blue hat. he accepted a plate of chili cheese fries without hesitation. he was even chanting “usa! usa!” along with a group of strangers like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment.

as the grand finale filled the sky, he leaned over to you, shaking his head with a laugh. "i have to admit, you lot know how to celebrate."

then someone behind him misfired a roman candle. the fireball shot sideways, missing him by inches. he spun around, hands on his hips, eyes wide.

"right," he said, voice slightly higher than usual. "and that is where i draw the line."

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos had questions.

"wait, wait, wait," he said, holding up a hand as he surveyed the absolute chaos of the backyard. "so, today, we eat like… ten hamburgers, drink cervezas (beers), and then we throw fireworks at each other?"

"pretty much," you said, handing him a beer.

he exhaled through his nose and shook his head. "los americanos están locos, eh? (you americans are crazy, huh?)"

but he cracked open the beer anyway.

carlos adapted quickly. within ten minutes, he was fully involved in the grilling process, standing next to the guy manning the barbecue with his hands on his hips, nodding like he was strategizing a pit stop. when handed a hot dog, he examined it critically.

"where is the jamón? (ham) no chorizo? (spicy spanish sausage)" he asked, looking personally offended.

"just eat it, carlos."

he sighed dramatically but took a bite. then another. his expression didn't change, but he gave a small nod.

"okay, está bien (it's okay). but if i put aceitunas (olives) on this, it would be better."

then he saw the fireworks table. his eyes narrowed. "who is in charge of this? porque esto looks very unsafe (because this…)."

before you could respond, someone lit a firecracker that immediately fell over and shot straight across the lawn. carlos flinched, ducking like it was a rogue piece of debris from an f1 crash. his head snapped toward you.

"¡ay, madre mía! (oh my god!) this is allowed?"

you shrugged. "kind of."

his hands went to his hips again. he muttered something in spanish that you were pretty sure included words not suitable for broadcast. but by the time the real fireworks show started, carlos had finally given in.

reclining in a lawn chair, beer in hand, he watched the sky light up with red, white, and blue. he exhaled and shook his head with a small smile.

"okay," he admitted. "es un poco loco… pero me gusta. (it’s a little crazy… but i like it.)"

then, just as he said it, another rogue firework went off sideways. this one nearly took out a folding chair. carlos was on his feet in seconds.

"no, no, no! that is not normal! esto es peligroso! (this is dangerous!)"

you couldn't stop laughing as he pointed accusingly at the guy holding the lighter.

"¡hermano, tú no sabes lo que haces! (brother, you don’t know what you’re doing!) give me that thing!"

and just like that, carlos sainz was suddenly in charge of the fireworks, directing the entire show like an engineer over the radio.

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was trying very hard to be polite.

it was his first fourth of july, and instead of some wild backyard rager, you had brought him to your family cookout, thinking it would be a nice, relaxed introduction to the holiday. that was your first mistake.

he had been handed a plate piled with enough food to feed a small country, your uncle had already declared him an honorary american, and your grandma had called him “such a handsome young man” at least three times. charles was handling it all with his usual charm, smiling and nodding as your family quizzed him about monaco like he was an ambassador rather than a formula 1 driver.

“you ever driven one of them nascars?” your cousin asked, chewing on a rib.

charles hesitated for half a second. “uh… no, not yet.”

“bet you’d be real good at it.”

he smiled. “i hope so.”

your cousin nodded seriously, like he had just made a groundbreaking discovery, then handed charles a sparkler. the wrong end.

charles, being charles, took it without question.

the second the lighter touched the tip, he yelped and dropped it straight onto the grass, shaking out his hand like he had just suffered a catastrophic brake failure.

“oh! merde!” he blinked at his fingers, then looked at you, eyes wide with a mix of betrayal and confusion. “it bit me.”

your cousin cackled. “man, you gotta hold the other end.”

charles gave him the most unimpressed look you had ever seen. “yes, i see that now.”

despite the initial trauma, he tried again, this time holding it the correct way. he watched the sparks flicker and pop, his expression turning thoughtful.

“this is actually nice,” he said, moving it gently through the air. he traced out a shape, pausing, then tried again. “i was trying to do my number, but i think i made a… fish?”

you leaned in. it was, indeed, a fish.

"close enough."

the fireworks started just as he got comfortable, your dad setting them off from the driveway like it was a carefully planned operation. charles leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the sky as red, white, and blue bursts lit up above.

for a moment, he was quiet, just watching. then he exhaled and smiled. “this is really beautiful.”

you were about to agree when another one went off way too close to the ground. charles flinched so hard he nearly spilled his drink, eyes darting toward the launch site.

“is it supposed to do that?”

your dad waved him off. “eh, it’s fine.”

charles did not look convinced. “i don’t think that is fine.”

another firework whistled sideways into a bush. charles shot up out of his chair.

“no, no, no—this is not normal!”

your cousin just laughed. “welcome to america, man.”

ʚ・lando norris

lando had never looked more out of his depth in his entire life.

and that included the time he got stuck on a beach in monaco.

you had brought him to your university’s fourth of july party, thinking it would be a fun, casual experience. that was your second mistake. your first mistake was underestimating how unhinged your friends were.

“okay, so let me get this straight,” lando said, standing in the middle of a backyard that looked like it had already survived three different safety car restarts. “you guys drink an obscene amount of alcohol, eat way too much food, and then you—what? just set things on fire?”

“yeah, pretty much.”

he blinked. “that’s mad.”

and yet, here he was, already double-fisting a beer and a plate of nachos, blending in like he had been here all semester.

the night started off fine. he played beer pong, overthought his technique, lost anyway, and then blamed the table for being “not regulation size.” he had his first ever corn dog, called it “weird but kinda amazing,” and then proceeded to eat three more. he even wore a ridiculous red, white, and blue cowboy hat that one of your friends had aggressively placed on his head.

everything was going smoothly. then someone handed him a roman candle.

“wait, what am i supposed to do with this?” he asked, inspecting the long tube like it was an unfamiliar steering wheel.

“just hold it and point it up,” you said, already realizing this was a mistake.

your friend lit it, and lando immediately panicked.

“oh my god, it’s on fire—IT’S ON FIRE.”

“yes, lando, that’s the point.”

“I DON’T LIKE IT.”

“JUST HOLD IT STILL.”

“I CAN’T.”

the first fireball shot out, straight up into the air. the second one did not.

instead, it veered at a slightly concerning angle, skimming past the roof of the house and nearly taking out a string of decorative lights. lando let out a full-on shriek, dropped the roman candle, and sprinted five steps away like the thing had personally offended him.

the candle, now abandoned, continued shooting rogue fireballs across the yard. your friends scattered. someone dove behind a cooler. one of your more chaotic friends cheered. lando, meanwhile, had his hands on his head, looking like he had just witnessed an absolute strategy disaster.

“oh my god,” he wheezed. “i almost died.”

“you did not almost die.”

“that was the most unsafe thing i’ve ever done, and i race at 200 miles per hour for a living!”

despite the near-death experience, lando stuck around. mostly because someone handed him another beer, and he was too emotionally drained to do anything but drink it. when the actual fireworks started, he stayed a healthy distance away, sipping his drink and shaking his head every time one exploded a little too close to the ground.

by the end of the night, he had recovered enough to join in on the chanting. he even put the cowboy hat back on.

“alright,” he admitted, exhaling. “that was actually kinda fun.”

then someone suggested doing sparklers. lando immediately held up both hands.

“no. absolutely not. i’ve learned my lesson. you lot are psychos.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar piastri was trying his best.

you had invited him to your family’s fourth of july cookout, reassuring him it would be a relaxed evening with good food, nice company, and minimal chaos. that had been a lie.

now he was sitting on the porch, gripping a lemonade like it was a contract extension, watching your uncle aggressively flip burgers on the grill while your little cousins ran barefoot through the yard with sparklers. someone had already spilled an entire bowl of potato salad, your aunt was yelling at your dad about lighter fluid, and a bluetooth speaker was blasting country music at a volume that should have been illegal.

oscar took a slow sip of his drink. “so this is normal?”

you nodded. “completely normal.”

“right,” he said, nodding slightly. “that’s concerning.”

to his credit, he was doing his best to fit in. he helped carry the extra chairs outside, listened to your grandpa tell a very long-winded story about how “kids these days don’t know how to drive,” and politely answered every single person who asked if he knew daniel ricciardo.

he even attempted a game of cornhole. it did not go well.

“mate, you’ve got to actually aim,” your cousin said as oscar’s beanbag completely missed the board.

“i am aiming.”

“then why does it look like you’re throwing a penalty kick?”

oscar’s next toss went even further off course. he turned to you, deadpan. “i don’t like this game.”

the real trouble started when your little cousin, clearly taking advantage of his foreign guest status, decided to hand oscar a firework. not a sparkler. not a small fountain. a full-blown roman candle.

oscar held it with both hands, staring at it like it was an unexploded bomb. “am i being set up?”

“just light it and hold it up,” your cousin said.

oscar frowned. “that sounds fake, but okay.”

he did as he was told, but the second the first fireball shot out, he visibly tensed, gripping the firework like he was on the final lap in monaco. another fireball launched, and he let out a quiet but very real “oh no.”

“it’s fine,” you reassured him.

“it doesn’t feel fine,” he said, carefully adjusting his stance like he was bracing for impact. “how long does this last?”

“maybe ten more shots.”

oscar sighed. “great. love that for me.”

when the roman candle finally fizzled out, he let out the slowest exhale of his life and handed it back like he had just completed a dangerous mission.

“alright,” he said. “i have now contributed to the chaos. that should fulfill my american initiation, yes?”

the night ended with fireworks, which oscar watched from what he clearly deemed the safest possible location—standing just inside the house, one foot over the threshold in case he needed to make a quick exit.

when someone asked if he had fun, he paused for a moment, considering his answer.

“well,” he said, taking another sip of lemonade. “i still have all my fingers. so i’d call that a success.”

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