#luckily the plot put a stop on that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jjongslutz · 5 months

Text

이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN? [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you realize you never completed your most important new year's resolution: losing your virginity. luckily, your roommate is willing to help you out with that

WARNINGS ⨯ smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first work of the year!! sorry for taking an impromptu break so suddenly, but my works will still be coming out slowly as of now, so thank you for your patience 🫶

# TAGLIST ! @wonkifangirl @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @jaeyunthejakesim @deobitifull @notevenheretbh1 @jvngw0nlvr @jongszn @ineedsomezzz @haelahoops @seongslutt @fakeuwus @leeheeheeseung @aheewonenthusiast @lprww @wonsbaer @heeseungssidechick @smisworld @rayofsunshineeee @starrypen @heerated @snwosgf @nycapartmentsworld @sooyeonvida @dear-hoon @nikiiitties

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.” You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible, but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stiffles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up at going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skins are sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

3K notes · View notes

willsdreamgirl · 10 months

Text

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

4K notes · View notes

praeluxius · 5 months

Text

pas de deux - IVE An Yujin (ft. Jang Wonyoung)

Part 1 of folie à deux.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

18+ An Yujin (and Jang Wonyoung) x Male Reader smut

Masterlist Word Count: 7,727

folie à deux - folly (madness) of two pas de deux - a dance for two

It's survival—that's how you mask it.

It's the hard reality you tell yourself to justify being the pseudo-servant to these two girls, just to make the year as easy as possible so you can graduate. Playing their games. Never questioning their words or actions. The house of cards they've built is fragile but they keep it in check.

Somehow, you're one of the cards, one wall of the house. You've only been in the school a month. The fresh-faced transfer who fell into the grasp of the two girls who practically run the place. You can't deny it has its benefits. Like every one of Yujin and Wonyoung's friends, no one ever questions anything and you would never run the risk of falling into the bad books of school bullies.

Oh, and you also get to fuck Wonyoung senseless.

Luckily, the walls of the library are thick, everyone else is in class and the library door is locked. Or someone would have heard the squirming Wonyoung moaning expletives by now.

"Harder." Her nails threaten to pierce the skin. Claws gripped to your forearm. Her words are sharper still, cutting through the air with the same lethality as her looks. "Stop, stop, stop. Hand, there. Circles, remember. And go fucking harder will you?" You position as instructed, how you know she likes it. There's no room for creative freedom here—it's Wonyoung's way or it's no way.

But, god. She knows exactly how to break you—just enough that when she puts you back together, your mismatched pieces slot perfectly into her shape, allowing her to completely mould and manipulate you at her will, at her whim. And oh, does she love when you let her.

"That's it, there. Yes!" Wonyoung presses the heel of her foot into the small of your back, pushing you further in, urging you closer and deeper, drawing a hoarse groan from her throat. She's sprawled flat on the desk, on the second floor of the library. You're looking over the balcony, down at the empty room. It's almost monotonous, it happens at the same time every week. Hidden in the same top corner of the same library, at the same time on the same day. You've got her legs spread and your cock in her cunt.

Your fingers are digging into her thighs, pinning her hips to the desk. You don't falter once, going exactly as fast, exactly as hard, and exactly as deep as she likes it. Her movements are in tune with yours. Familiarity. Wonyoung's perfectly groomed eyebrows are furrowed, heart-shaped lips pursed, eyes scrunched shut.

"You're close, right? I can feel it..." Your words come out ragged and laboured. This isn't supposed to feel good for you, you aren't supposed to have an opinion. It's her own fantasy—an excuse for her to let herself get fucked like a little whore without question or consequence—your body's just along for the ride. You're not an actor in the scene, not a participant. You are the means to an end; a character-prop. Something to be used by the main character. To further her plot.

She responds with a shaky mewl that turns into a string of frantic cries, her slender, legs locking around you.

It ends how it always ends.

She cums. Hard.

You don't. Too messy, she says. You can't cum inside, you can't cum on her and you can't just cum on the library desk. Too risky and unhygienic. It's almost cute watching her try to cover up her gasp and squeal as she rides her high, biting down onto her soft sleeve, probably tearing through a layer of fabric with her pearly whites.

That's just how it is with Wonyoung.

***

"There you are!" Yujin is by your side and snaking her arm around yours, holding you just above the elbow and leaning against you. "Where's Wony?"

"Probably halfway down the highway by now, her boyfriend picked her up fifteen minutes ago," you explain as if it's the most normal thing in the world that Wonyoung hopped off your cock and into her boyfriend's car in the space of ten minutes. But that’s the life she lives—you live.

"You can take me straight home then, let's go." Yujin smiles up at you with her signature grin and those half-moon eyes. If Wonyoung were the definition of danger, Yujin was still just that, but wrapped up in cotton wool and given to a puppy. Her playful expression could melt even the hardest heart, and yet, thanks to her money, she too could get away with just about anything.

At least Yujin made your life easier. There was a little more give and take in your friendship—unlike with Wonyoung.

Still, you wonder exactly how the two of them do it. The whole school around their little fingers. The teachers—they overlook Wonyoung's little indiscretions as soon as the excuses leave her pretty little mouth, so convincing is her act. And then there's Yujin, she—

"You bitch!" In sync, you and Yujin look away from each other and towards the two young ladies holding each other by handfuls of hair. You don't know either of them, but they are blocking the way to your car.

"What's going on here?" asks Yujin, speaking louder than normal to ensure that her voice breaks through the constant bickering. The voices quieten and the hands release their grips, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

The pair turn to you both as they both speak at the same time. "This whore took my earrings!" One points at the other.

"Yeah? These are my earrings. How dense can you be?" one fires back, clearly pissed off, making exaggerated hand gestures for emphasis.

"Bitch, they belong to me! Stop taking things that aren’t yours, you slut! This is you and Jisun’s boyfriend all over again!"

"Ladies, please," Yujin says calmly, in just those two words she captivates attention. "You girls are friends, right?" She doesn’t give time for a response. "Well, if you're really friends, you'll sit and talk about this instead of pulling each other's hair. And if I'm being totally honest, those earrings don't exactly look worth the effort."

They lower their fists slowly, looking a little less angry now and more embarrassed to be told off. You half expect a little, "yes, mother" and an apology from them.

"Great!" Yujin says after some silence. She tugs gently on your arm, strutting between the two girls with you in tow. They stand and watch as you pass by. You only get a step or two past them before Yujin stops.

She turns to face the girls, still staring wide-eyed at the two of you. "Actually, aren't you girls forgetting something? You owe us both an apology."

The two exchange glances, looking surprised by the statement. "Wh-what for?" one asks, eyes darting nervously between you and her friend, who seems equally puzzled.

"For being in our way." The pair look around and suddenly notice the small crowd around you, phones pulled out, cameras glaring. They pale almost immediately. And you can see that they know this only ends one way. Because no one says no to Yujin.

The girls nervously get down on their knees and bow their heads. "I-I'm sorry!"

"We're sorry!"

"Excuse us!"

"Please forgive us!" They're flustered, apologizing to you and Yujin as though their lives depend on it. It feels like forever has passed when Yujin finally laughs and turns away.

"Have a lovely evening, ladies," she says in a tone sweeter than sugar, leaving the girls kneeling and guiding you again towards your car.

For all intents and purposes, these two girls are fucking crazy.

Delusional.

folie à deux

***

"You will stay and eat. I insist." It's ever so clear where she gets it from. Just like his daughter, Yujin's father simply would not take "no" for an answer. You know that really, you have no choice but the lock the car and follow Yujin up the steps into her house.

"Make sure our guest is comfortable." He glances at the maid to signal her. You notice a flinch, though only passing—the girl is nervous. No one can relax when they're in the presence of an Ahn. After his instruction, he walks into the door without another word.

You make the climb Yujin had not two minutes earlier, up the stairs and into the front door of the house, through the door left open, which the maid closes behind you.

The mansion's interior is exactly what you expect—luxurious, opulent and vast. But where you thought there might be a hint of the gaudy and tacky, there is only tasteful, expensive decorating, the finest of furniture, and grandeur befitting the family who owns it. As always, there's not a thing out of place.

Yujin's at the top of the stairs. She has already swapped out her formal blouse for a comfortable t-shirt, but she still wears the pleated skirt she did before, sitting just above the knee. "Couldn't escape father then? I think he likes you."

"He doesn't show it if he does." You shrug.

"He didn't wave you away without a word. That means he likes you." Yujin speaks as she walks down the stairs towards you. Off somewhere to your right, you hear the busywork of the kitchen, preparing the food he insisted you eat. "It's funny because I can't think why..."

She mocks you in the way she always does, with a grin on her face.

"It must be my wit, charm, personality, and incredible looks," you tell her with a wry smile.

"Huh... I didn't know my dad was gay."

"Shame he's not really my type." It's your turn to grin now.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's an understatement. I know your type."

"Maybe you do," you say while climbing the stairs to meet her at the top.

She stares you down for a moment and you wait for her latest quip. She eventually looks over your shoulder, down the stairs to the maid. Yujin informs her, "We will eat in the upstairs lounge."

***

"And Gaeul, did you hear?" Yujin can barely contain her excitement as she slams her chopsticks on the table. The conversation had been flowing for a while now, mostly from Yujin as she fills you in with all the recent gossip on people you barely know.

"Which one is she again?" This one you already know, but you always enjoy the way she describes and introduces her friends. It’s so often so unserious.

"Kim Gaeul, the one in my dance class." Yujin pauses. Her eyes roll. "You know the one. Short hair, even shorter skirt. Cute smile, even cuter ass?"

That would probably narrow it down.

"Okay, but what about her?"

"Well you know that guy she's dating? The German guy?" The love lives of Yujin's friends are a bit of a blur. The more you hear about them, the less sense it all makes. "He proposed!"

"They are that serious?"

"Very! I guess it was love at first sight. Gaeul certainly saw something she liked."

"They're still young. It's a big commitment."

"But, if you want something, you should take it," Yujin affirms.

"Just like a criminal," you joke.

Yujin giggles. Something is charming about Yujin's laughter. There's an innocence and lightheartedness to her that brings you a sense of tranquillity. Suddenly, a weight rests on your shoulder. A chin nestles into the side of your neck. Warm, moist air fills your ear, "Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Life's too short to wait around and hesitate."

The weight and air vanish, and suddenly you feel cold. Yujin's French perfume lingers in your nose. "And it's good for her right, she must be getting fucked a lot." Yujin continues as normal as though the moment never happened. She picks up a piece of meat between her chopsticks, taking care not to get the sauce all over her. She brings it closer to her lips, smiling ever so slyly the whole way.

Yujin takes a drink before she continues, “and so Rei said to her that…”

She continues onto rest of the story and the many more after which you don’t really pay attention to, the moment before still lingering on your mind.

***

"As delicious as always." The two of you had spent at least an hour in the upstairs lounge, eating as you talked, catching up with events, and then talking about nothing in particular.

The maid bows at your compliment before taking away the tray of leftovers and leaving the room.

Yujin lay her arms over her chest as she leans back into the couch. Her eyes roll as her head falls to the side, staring over at the bookcase behind you.

"I hate reading." You can hear her disgust in her tone. "Dull, pointless, useless, boring..."

Yujin stops, eyes fixed upon you. Her eyebrows pull together with curiosity. "But you must love it, right?"

"There are worse hobbies."

She gives a thin-lipped grin, unconvinced. Yujin tilts her head to the other said, hair thrown over her head to settle on the other side, "do you, though? Because you and Wonyoung spend a lot of time in the library."

She knows. Of course she knows.

"Just studying." You smile weakly and give an awkward laugh, running your hand through your hair.

"Wonyoung doesn't study." She says that flatly, cutting the air. Yujin may well be the only person in the school who dares to question the actions of her best friend. She has no interest in playing along with the lie.

You sit in silence. Any excuse would only be an insult to her intelligence.

"You're lucky really," she muses, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the frilled edge of her skirt. Yujin makes a conscious effort to cross her long legs, exposing the small expanse of creamy flesh where the skin between the hem and knee socks met.

"Why is that?" you ask, with eyes fixed firmly on the tantalising flesh.

"Every other guy in school would kill for an hour alone with Wonyoung." Yujin purred.

"A bit drastic. They want what any young, single man would want."

"Hmm, those poor things are a second away from cumming in their pants just being in the same room as her."

Yujin gave a delightful, innocent-girl smile, contrasting with her crass language. She wore her angel-like grin with a devil's look. "Not you though. Which is exactly why she wants you."

"Why?" Your eyes flicker to the floor, away from Yujin. The thoughts circle.

"Like I said: they're far too eager for her to respect them, but not you. No." She spoke clearly, firmly. "The way you stare at her, it's almost as if you don't care that much for her."

"Not sure I understand. She is a friend, I care." you admit.

"But you don't beg it like the other boys do. She must find that attractive about you, not being desperate, but still willing." Her legs uncross slowly, tortuously so, pulling her legs apart ever so slightly. She smooths the crease of the pleats over her thighs.

You sense a chance to turn the wind and sail the conversation in Yujin's direction. "What about you? The one boy from art class seems really desperate to get close to you."

The vaguest flash of surprise came across her eyes, as if you'd interrupted her. The shock passes.

"Ah. Him." She rolls her eyes, puffing her cheeks as she does. A disgusted grimace mars her angelic expression.

"He's into you." Who isn't?

"I can tell. Not my type." She waves dismissively, having no need for your words. "I can," she pauses over her words, "take care of myself."

A creeping heat climbs your spine. "Really?" Your question sounds more curious than teasing, though your tone carries more than a hint of amusement.

Her slender shoulders shrug ever so casually. "Of course I can. Everyone needs a little," she purrs the next word, "dissipation."

It is the wording more than anything that draws a pensive mood. Yujin said it casually enough, with her fingers absentmindedly pressing up and down her exposed leg, almost as if the mere thought of it was enough to excite her. Her gaze glazes over at some unseen memory, and she gives a knowing smirk before her thoughts snap back to the real world.

"Yujin, I—"

She cuts you off, "there are so many, too many, horny boys in the world, but so few are dependable." The hand tracing her thigh edges just a centimetre further upwards, folding the pleat under the touch. "it was nice to have you here for dinner, but I have something I need to do."

"Are you expecting me to go so that you can...?"

The smile spreads from ear-to-ear across her face. "I'm not saying anything. But you know where the door is." She rises from her seat, a perfectly poised princess, and moves gracefully towards the door. Her body swaying under her baggy shirt and flowing skirt.

She doesn't give you time for a reply.

You're left alone with only the dying embers of her expensive perfume.

***

Class finished early and you're waiting. As you always did when you finished before the girls.

However, this time is different. You haven’t seen Yujin all day and aren’t sure how to act when you do. Not after what you saw yesterday. You lean back against your locker, streams of people passing by. Most ignore you, or the few that acknowledge you pay only a glance or two before continuing.

"Hey, Gaeul," you call to the one girl you recognise passing by, "have you seen Yujin?"

"Bro, she left already." You don't know when she started calling you bro. Maybe she always had. Could be part of her friendly nature. Gaeul is about as easygoing as they come.

"Is something wrong with her?"

"Nah." A gap appears in the crowd and you move to join her, heading out of the building. "You know how it is. If she wants to leave five minutes early, no one will stop her."

Another student cuts between the two of you, forcing you towards another group that blocks your way. You spin away to avoid them, manoeuvring through like a speeding car on the highway, catching up with the on-rushing Gaeul.

"And she didn't say anything?" you ask when finally back by her side. Gaeul's looking at her phone—probably reading a text from her husband-to-be.

"Hm?" Gaeul throws a glance out of courtesy. "No." she mutters before replying to the text.

"Nothing?"

Gaeul opens the door to the outside and you follow her through. She's striding like a girl with places to be, so you have to half-jog to get back by her side.

"Oh! Yujin did tell me to tell you something, actually. She said, tell him to act like a criminal. Whatever that means."

Act like a criminal.

"Thanks Gaeul," you speak quickly, diverting towards your car.

"Bro! What does it mean?" Gaeul calls after you but you don't wait around to answer.

***

The maid is there to greet you when you knock on the door of Yujin's house. Apparently, Yujin is waiting for you upstairs, and after letting you into the Ahn house for the second time in as many days, the maid disappears again into the background, leaving you to explore.

You see, yesterday ended almost unceremoniously. You stayed for dinner, you ate, talked, laughed. And then you left.

Except, it wasn't actually that simple. After Yujin left the room, you held around for a minute, finishing your drink. The ice-cold one in the fancy tumbler. Taking in the room around, as for all the time you had spent in there, you were more focused on Yujin than the exquisite decor. You admired it for all it's worth and savoured your drink until you decided that you shouldn't overstay your welcome.

It should have been simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

Until you walked down the corridor and found a door ajar with the smallest of gaps. You leant gently against the frame, peering in just enough to give you a view of the bed.

On the bed was the girl you expected to find. On the bed was Ahn Yujin.

The curtains were closed, but enough sunlight managed to peak through. Light bounced off the soft skin. Each breath sent her chest swelling. You followed every rise and fall with hungry eyes.

With the afternoon sun kissing her flesh, highlighting the curve of her shoulder and collarbone, she looked even more heavenly. She wore her short hair wild, swept back and almost messy. And that's all she wore.

Her clothes discarded. A crumpled heap just beside the bed. And yet, there was a strangely intimate beauty in their chaos. As if she had just stumbled out of them in some urgent and carnal heat.

Her entire being had been shaped into perfection, carved from a block of ivory, her delicate fingers, smooth legs, slender shoulders and bare chest roseand fell with the soft inhales of breathing.

It was not the Yujin you knew; there was no hint of her elegance and poise. Here only lustful indulgence. A reckless hedonism that wanted no secrets to be kept or questions to be unanswered. Her body lay free of the bounds that normalcy imposes, inviting you to admire what she kept concealed, every precious curve and secret corner of her immaculate skin, every beautiful mark and blemish, that, in itself, was a testament to the humanity that lies just under the surface of such sublime beauty.

There was no doll, nor porcelain queen. No statue of stone or plaster. Instead, she was living, breathing, moving and feeling. Each touch was electricity. And her eyes said it all.

There was woman—in its rawest form.

And you had stood. You had stared. For as long as you dared. Until you tried to tear yourself away. You could not deny your perverted mind that moment of indulgence. And indulge you did, right up until the fear of being caught overcame you.

It should have been so simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.

For the last twenty-four hours, the image plagued your mind. You were consumed with her. With the idea of her. Of what she had done, of what could have been had you dared enter her room. And the guilt alongside it.

And now you're here, a day later, walking back to the scene of your crime. The door is ajar again, a few feet ahead. You push lightly, gently, inch by inch. Your breath held and the anticipation thick, clouding your mind and filling every thought, not of anything other than what you might see behind that door.

And then it comes into view. The bed and the disappointment.

A bed perfectly made, and decidedly empty.

You realise your folly—thinking, hoping, expecting the same sordid sight as before.

"I was wondering if you'd turn up." Her voice comes from behind you and her tone is low, hushed, and seductive. Every word tingles down the spine. Her fragrance arrives a beat ahead of the girl herself. "Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, about being a criminal," you answer as innocently as you can manage, still recovering from the shock.

"Exactly. As criminals, we take, without question, what we desire," Yujin whispers the last few words in your ear, a heavy, breathy tone that takes any resolve left in you and melts it before it's even fully formed. Her scent surrounds you. It overwhelms you.

"Yesterday, what you saw me do," she begins, her fingers reaching for your arm, gliding gently and purposefully, drawing slow patterns with a single nail, "you had the decency to resist temptation, but I don't want that." Her fingers grip your forearm tightly.

"It doesn't matter why you resisted. All I know is that you watched me... touch myself, pleasure myself. Do I turn you on?" She knew damn well the effect she was having.

You answer her question with another question. "Yujin, what are you playing at?"

"You're smart. Don't you know how this goes?" She steps, smooths around the shape of you, and into your field of vision. "Don’t you know why you’re here?"

She raises her arms slowly, making a show of her body. With all the possible casualness, she smooths her hands up her sides, slowly, passing her stomach and onto her chest, and gently caressing. A shirt clings to her slim frame. The thin fabric is practically see-through, clinging to every delicious curve. The bottom few inches lifting, revealing flesh and the lines of lace trim on her matching her cream panties.

"I can't fight it, Yujin." Your hands find their way to the curves of her waist. She wriggles under the touch, happy to have the reaction she desires.

"Fight what?" She smirks, clearly amused by your confession and how easily you give in to her. Her hands roll gently across her breasts.

"The alarm in my head saying it’s a bad idea."

"Don’t fight it. Because I'm really, really hot," she whispers as pulls her top up her body. It rolls over her head and flops to the floor and you marvel, breathless and hungry, at the expanse of silky skin and feminine curves.

Her hands stroke at your crotch and she laughs softly. "Hard already?"

Her fingers curl and squeeze around the outline. She gives an approving smirk at the way it twitches under her touch, even as she mocks its hardness. "For me, huh?"

You nod, and she smirks. You move your hands up her body, but just as you begin; she twists free and walks towards her bed.

"Go, stand." Yujin points at the centre of her bedroom, towards the foot of her bed.

The carpet beneath you is soft, and you're barefoot. Walking. Watching. Eyes never leaving Yujin. Her bare thighs, defined, slender and soft. The curves, so gentle, and her accentuated hips. Her round, shapely behind, cradled so perfectly in tight-fitting panties. You have barely reached your position when she looks at you from over her shoulder and wiggles her panties slowly down her legs and leaves them on the floor.

She's crawling on the bed. You can't move—you barely manage to breathe. Each breath burns your throat. You're motionless, speechless, hypnotised in awe at Yujin. As requested (perhaps ordered) you remain. Watching from afar. Yujin seats herself on her bed with delicacy, her knees pressed together.

"I have to be honest with you," she confesses. "I'm not going to fuck you. But you can help me. If you're willing, that is."

"Anything" is your reflex response. You're powerless. She has you in the palm of her hand, and the growing ache in your groin, which was eager to be free of the confines of your pants, only affirms your thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Her head tilted to the side, teasing you with naivete. Yujin laid a single, slender finger on her lip and pulled it down suggestively. "If you come over here," Yujin insisted, her free hand parting her knees and patting the bed between her thighs, "then we could help each other."

There's a flurry of activity. You pull off your shirt and leave your trousers behind. Now you're kneeling across from her.

"Watch me. Just watch." Her voice is softer now, sultry, as her fingers ghost down the column of her neck, along her collarbones and then tracing the curve of her breasts, with the lightest grazes against her nipples. Her eyes fall closed as she carries on tracing feathery touches on her torso.

To be here now is all you could have wanted, really. If anything is happening beyond the sound of her shortening breaths and soft hums and her hand snaking between her legs, it's beyond your awareness. Yujin is shifting in front of you, wiggling and squirming; biting at her lip until it reddens and fills; gasping at the gentle caress of fingertips sliding slick against the smooth lips between her legs.

"No touching, just look." As if to drive the point home, her gaze holds on you for a moment, her lips curling into the sweetest smile. As a reward for your patience, her eyes grow warm and welcoming. Her legs spread wider, and Yujin hums. Her touch builds slowly, making small circles. There's no sign of urgency to her actions, none of the frustration that Wonyoung showed when waiting for her release. But Yujin isn't simply touching; it isn't about release. She's revelling.

Her breasts move with her heavy breaths. Her body trembles; her legs shake. She leans back slowly, taking support from her elbow, exposing herself wholly to you, with her head pressing back into her pillow, her hair sprawling in a mess and her pink lips slightly agape as her mouth shapes sounds that die as quickly as they're born.

"Yujin, I..." You lean forward onto your knees, placing an arm by her hip and another by her shoulder. You're hovering over her. Watching the display before you in stunned silence.

She grabs a handful of her tit, squeezing and moaning. "Keep talking," she breathes, her lips still quivering.

"I want you so bad."

She presses harder and slides her finger a little lower, dipping inside her cunt. Her other hand goes to your arm, then strokes over your bicep up to your neck. "You can do better than that." She whispers, wrapping her hand around your nape.

"How could I not want you?" Your knees are between her legs, you lower yourself closer without breaking her rule. You do not touch. "Not when you smell so enticing. Or sound so delightful. Or look so stunning."

Her mouth opens, panting breaths and half-uttered sighs fill the air. "And?"

Strands of hair fall over her face, you bring a hand up and hover it near to them, seeking her approval. Her eyes dart to your hand and consider it for a moment before giving the gentlest of approving nods. Your hand brushes the strands to the side. Her cheeks are bright and rosy, her skin damp, moist with perspiration, though still like silk to touch, you discover as you run a finger down her cheek.

"And when you look at me... with that smile. You have such a cute smile, like right now, that innocent—"

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me."

You oblige. Yujin rises to meet you. And you take her in a hungry kiss. She falls back against her pillow. You slide a hand around her thigh, gently holding it against yours. The sensation of skin on skin is electric.

"M-more. Give me more." Yujin demands, and you give her thigh a squeeze in agreement. Your hand moves to her ass, giving the swell an approving touch, caressing the skin, and kneading ever so slowly.

You watch her, in the dimness between kisses, studying her delicate expressions and tiny reactions and all the while you enjoy the feeling of her pliant flesh beneath you.

This goes on and on. The kissing. The touching. The moments of separation. When Yujin pauses and lays her head down, catching her breath. A few heartbeats pass, she opens her eyes and watches you. Languidly, she smiles and beckons you to lean closer, to hold her again and taste her sweet lips once more.

The dim, orange sunlight of early evening has long since faded. A soft, blue light envelops her bedroom. As the minutes passed and the two of you enjoyed each other's touch, Yujin never stopped. Never stopped her hand buried between her thighs. And this time your kiss broke by the jolt of her head, thrown back into the pillow. Her neck is at full stretch and her lips agape.

No moans come from her mouth. Instead, her breath hitches and holds. She freezes like this, under the moonlight piercing between the curtains. Reflecting from her skin. An image of pure beauty. Unadulterated pleasure.

Her eyes remain shut, but a beaming smile grows.

Finally, she sighs deeply and lets out her last shuddering, shaky breaths. She rises again and searches your eyes with her half-open ones and smiles once more.

"That was perfect," she murmurs, satisfied, as she lolls back into the pillow and rubs her hand—the hand covered with her cum—over her heaving, sweat-slicked chest.

You can only admire as she rubs her hand over her tits, smearing them with a mixture of cum and sweat. And when she's done, she lets her hand fall beside her head, the other resting on your shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" Her question came slowly, her speech still languid.

"How amazing you are."

Yujin smirks before stretching, arching her back from the bed, thrusting her tits at you. "You've probably thought that a lot." She's hot, and she knows it. "Anything else? With me here like this?"

"Your body is better than I imagined. Perfect."

Yujin brings a hand up to cup her tit, as if offering them up for you. "Glad you think so." The next word was a demand, "Taste."

Her chin tilts down and her gaze lifts. Her eyes watch curiously as your head dives to her chest. The most overpowering thing is the smell. The combination of her rich perfume and the scent of sex.

"That's it. Let me guide you." Yujin reaches round, holds the back of your head, and pushes your lips on her nipple. She giggles as you suck greedily, nibbling at her and lavishing her flesh in sloppy adoration. Yujin's skin glows a hue you'd never seen before. And tastes a taste so sickly sweet that you swear is so addicting that as a second becomes a minute, your tongue would never tire.

"Good." Her voice is soft and doting, but her breath catches for a brief instant as you roll your tongue over the swollen peak, drawing a tighter grip on your head. Her hands bury into your hair, her nails against the scalp. She pulls at you, guiding your tongue across her chest.

Yujin whines. And for all the sounds that you've heard today, there is none so sweet, nor one that cuts so deep as when she pulls you away. "God, I feel so sexy now."

Yujin lets her leg rub up to yours. Gyrating gently and grinding your thigh with hers, she works herself closer. Then her legs curl, capturing you and holding you. Yujin raises up so her face is millimetres away, whispering into your lips, "You don't even know what a turn-on you are right now."

She guides your hand with her own, down between her thighs. And she rubs your fingers up against her slippery opening. "Feel that? That's for you, and I can't wait any longer." Her eyes fall closed and her forehead rests against yours.

"I want to fuck you, Yujin."

"We aren't going to fuck." She punctuates each word separately but speaks without anger. Her tone is honey. It's dripping with lust despite the coldness of the words. "But I am going to let you cum now."

Her hand leaves your own, leaving your fingers pressed against her cunt. Both her hands now. Both against your body, rubbing at your chest and working their way down. Yujin's got a devilish, vapid expression. An insufferable confidence.

"And maybe this is selfish, but," Yujin grins wickedly as her hand takes a fistful of cock. "I'm also going to get off to watching you blow a load."

Her thumb, smeared in her arousal, rolls and drags. It's a wicked gesture that plays you like a marionette. Yujin draws her wet thumb up your length. The pressure and tension are enough to bring your breath hitching.

"It'll be huge." You lean into the feeling and whisper hotly. The heat building between the two of you is dizzying. She wraps her fingers around the base of your cock and squeezes firmly, jerking her hand up to the head.

"Good." The word escapes her parted lips as she takes the first full stroke. And then she doesn't stop. Her fingers tighten and the movement is repeated, finding a quick rhythm that you follow along to.

"Touch me," Yujin orders again. She looks down between your bodies, the tangle of arms, where she strokes your cock rhythmically. Using her other hand on your wrist to push you into her. Two fingers. That's what you give, gently stroking down along her cunt. Two fingers inside and curling up slowly inside her. Your hand pressing against her cunt, palm rocking against her clit. "Keep doing that."

You follow along. Obeying her directions and fulfilling her commands, making short little motions between her legs. You've watched her cum once and know exactly how to bring her there again. You push further, probing deeper, massaging the hot slickness. And you must be doing it right. Her grip on your wrist slackens and her body collapses back into the silk.

Finally, she fully focuses on you. Her hands work your cock. Up, down. Smooth, measured, fluid strokes. Unsurprisingly, she's perfect, each action purposeful, coordinated, and calculated. You know from the tension already winding, growing tighter and tighter, that it's a race you're destined to lose.

Yujin sighs heavily. Her lips remain open but her eyes grow serious. Head propped by the pillow, she's watching her handiwork. Watching the first drops of cum leak out and she palms them, taking them into her grip, making it messier as she continues to pump. Her eyes lift to watch your face as it distorts, and as you let out a groan.

"Are you close yet?" Her hand tightens. Faster. Rougher. Her fingers graze your sensitive cock, your body convulses and the involuntary reaction is a knee-jerk buck of your hips into the warmth of her hand. And her laugh follows. Delightfully warm, innocent, genuine. It fills the room and pierces through any self-conscious embarrassment. "Guess so, huh? Come on, cum. Just for me." Her thumb drags over your cock's head.

Your hands still moving, and Yujin's body beginning to quiver. With her orgasm fast approaching, she's determined to make you finish first. Her other hand has a hold on your balls, encouraging them to let loose.

Your lungs hurt from the shallow gasps and a sick knot forms in the pit of your stomach. A tingling buzzing and a throbbing that overcomes everything, wiping the thoughts from your mind. Only her eyes. Yujin's warm, hazel, angelic eyes are what remains. They stare with determination, urging you on.

She knows. You know. You can't hold it anymore. Your body isn't yours anymore, it responds to Yujin, and when she grins, you have no power. Yujin's in control, the only words in your mind. "Cum. Cum all over."

"Ugh, fuck..." is all the warning that you can manage. Her grin widens into a malicious smile and her hand becomes a vice. You can barely breathe; a dull buzzing rings in your ears. Your vision is a blur. All-consuming pleasure blinds. You buck into her hand and feel the thick ropes of cum leave. Firing onto her toned stomach. On to her tits. Wherever her hand directs you.

"Wow, really came hard," Yujin grins teasingly at her messy hands.

Breathing is easier now, and the rush, though it fades, lingers still in every inch of you. And as feeling comes back, as your mind clears, you realise your own hand never stopped. You're still mindlessly fucking her with your fingers. Still making Yujin writhe and moan. She's so warm. Wet.

"Fu-ck. Ke-eep doing... that." Her legs pull at you, forcing your body on top of hers. You respond in your movements, curling your fingers into her and slamming them harder. Your palm hits her cunt every time with a slap.

She's got a hand on her tit, squeezing the cum-covered mounds, her hand sliding around in the sticky mess. It's spreading—the mess, all over her tits—and she's using it for pleasure. It glistens in the soft blue moonlight, catching your eyes.

"I-m..." Yujin starts, then gasping a sharp intake of breath, then more noises, stunted. This goes on until, finally, she takes one slow, heavy, deep breath, filling her chest and holding it there. Her eyes are glassy as if she's not looking through them. And she's still gripping your sensitive cock, hand covered in cum. You groan softly as her hand rubs the last few drops out.

She cums again. She tried to warn you, but this time she's nothing but moans. Erupting from her. Rough. Deep. Coming from within. She gushes. Wetness coats your fingers. Her cunt overflows and runs out onto your hand. A mess of her cum on you, a mess of your cum on her. You watch her breathing as the final few gasps leave her, slowly returning to a steady, even rhythm.

Yujin is breathless. "W-wow..."

You kiss her cheek gently. Your body finds its place beside hers. "Fuck me, Yujin," you exhale.

Yujin's breathing is slow and even, a smile beaming, radiating that warm glow that is her. She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out again.

"No." There's not an iota of sympathy.

You let out an audible sigh, but Yujin holds her finger up. "No sex tonight," she corrects herself, before pushing on your shoulder, rolling you over until she sits atop you.

Her lithe, cum-covered body presses down upon you. Her hips against your spent dick. She leans back, straightening her torso. She barely weighs a thing. Her body is as light as a feather. Yujin gives an innocent look, smiling but avoiding the eyes, but after a moment her smile turns coy, even teasing. She runs a hand over her body and pulls it away, strings of sticky cum stretching from her fingers to her stomach.

"I need a shower." She runs her eyes over your body. "We need a shower."

"Or we can continue..." you speak as you run a hand up her thigh.

Yujin moans in response, and she closes her eyes at the contact. A tremble wracks her for a moment, until her eyes snap open. "No." She pulls back and pushes off you. "Come. Let's shower."

She's standing beside the bed, and you admire her. "You look gorgeous." The words float in the air, and Yujin lets a soft, barely visible blush form. She takes it well; you would've thought she'd dismiss the words, but she smiles warmly.

"Come on." Her finger beckons you.

You follow and don't take your eyes off her. And why should you? Her body is so enchanting, swaying her hips from side to side in her lustful saunter. Her ass and shoulders roll in sync perfectly.

***

Hot water and steam. One runs down your body and the other fills the air. Not thick enough to block your sight but still veiling everything in a white, blurry mist, just enough to muffle the sound, enough to add something in the background.

"Mm..." Yujin murmurs as you rub her back. A luxurious bar of soap. You lather your hands and work it across her body. Underneath her arms. You guide your slippery hands to her sides, lifting and moving with them as they run along her stomach. You tickle gently above her hip bones, smiling at her small reaction—how her hips roll away instinctively.

"So, what happens now?" you ask. Yujin had been completely quiet during the shower. But you can't help but think that you need to address what just happened, what could happen.

"Well, I could bend over right now, right?" Her voice is bubbly, still in a post-orgasmic high.

You chuckle. "But you won't."

"But I won't," Yujin confirms. "I haven't decided yet."

"That's ominous."

Yujin closes her eyes. "Not like I'm the only girl who you're fooling around with."

"So you want it to be exclusive?"

"No." Yujin takes the soap and turns to face you, rubbing it over your chest.

"You're a hot guy, with a nice cock," Yujin's eyelids fall half-closed and her lips spread to show her tongue running over the corner of her mouth, and with the faintest shrug, and adds: "We both know I could have my way with you anytime I want."

Yujin moves past you towards the jet of running hot water. She bows her head under it and lets it rinse off the foam. The suds flow down her body. The streams turn to rivers. Bouncing, trickling, coursing between her supple breasts, down her narrow waist, over her toned stomach, then along her long legs. She takes a second longer than necessary, basking in the spray and enjoying the sensation, and the visual she knows she creates for you.

She reaches out and pulls you under, body against body. She brings her mouth to your ear. "But no one can find out. That would cause you a lot of problems." Her hands grip you tightly as if to emphasise the seriousness. And while her tone remains jovial, there is an underlying sternness.

"What do you mean? What would happen?"

"The position my dad is in, we can't afford to have this come out. He would have you out of the school and out of my life in an instant." Her voice lowers, almost a growl, but there's amusement in it. Her smile widens as she looks you in the eye. "But that won't happen, will it? We'll make sure of that."

"No, won't happen."

"And while we're on the topic..." Yujin grabs at your crotch, stunning you. "If you're gonna keep fucking Wonyoung, you might want to do a better job of hiding that. It'll end the same way."

"Y-you don't mind if I fuck Wonyoung?"

"Please, I encourage it." Yujin wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls you in closer. You move your arms to hold her back. Skin on skin. Her breaths are hot, and steamy. She whispers the next few words, drawing out every syllable, each sound heavy with meaning.

"I..." You lose what words you want to say, flustered by her open, unexpected, and totally cool, reaction.

"Why would I? It's hot as fuck." Her lips brush over your cheeks, ghosting over the skin with a soft, supple touch. "And I know she won't fuck as good as I will."

NEXT PART HERE

#wonyoung smut #yujin smut #ive smut #male reader smut #x male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #wonyoung x reader #yujin x reader

1K notes · View notes

quaintii · 1 year

Text

To be with you is all I want.

Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!

enjoy 💖💖!!

You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.

In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.

Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.

Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.

Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.

"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.

Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.

You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.

"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.

"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.

Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.

Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.

Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.

Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.

Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.

You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.

More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."

Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.

:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3

#spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #romantic #smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 Miguel

4K notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 2 months

Text

Jersey Talk

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk

notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌

p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!

part 1, part 2, part 4

[6.4k]

You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but hopefully you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.

Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys gives you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.

As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers. Your assumption is confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.

They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.

“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.

You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.

“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.

“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, resting your chin on your hands that are placed on the arm of the loveseat.

“Well, you have our full attention now. What’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.

“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.

“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.

“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk,” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.

The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. The two of them and Quinn taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch reruns of games with them over the summer at the lake, and you would sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the trio would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with the two youngest brothers, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.

“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way,” Jack speaks, correcting the stranger’s statement.

“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.

You’ve noticed that practices must have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings and so tired by the time they come home that they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, at least getting to chat a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.

They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time in the two weeks you’ve lived with them. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable, so you had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.

This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.

“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.

Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.

“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay, too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.

“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.

“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.

“The real question here shouldn’t be if I’m coming to the game or not. It’s whose jersey am I going to wear?” you throw out, poking fun at the two.

“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.

“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”

“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.

Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.

“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.

“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”

You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about two weeks ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but tried to keep your questions about him to a minimum. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. You assume he’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.

You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring.

Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke, noticing Jack was no longer next to him.

“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke asks him, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.

You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.

“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.

“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”

“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.

“Now c’mon, Y/N, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident!” Luke cries out. “We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!”he argues, looking between you and his brother.

“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.

“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.

“Well, right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey Y/N was going to wear to the game on Saturday. I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already, so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.

“Well, she has a point.”

“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, Y/N. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.

Your mind wanders back to Nico’s words he spoke to you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, wondering if Luke’s statement includes those words, too.

“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.

“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.

“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, looking at you with mischievous eyes.

“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support at my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”

Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.

You were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it, because you still wanted to show up in Michigan attire. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re to be left alone, knowing the reputations of their fellow players.

“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.

“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.

Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.

“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.

“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.

“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.

———————————————————————————

“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.

You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you.

After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan so strictly. You also learned that Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, Luke revealing that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, but he had rolled his eyes and told you “this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties.”

You still don’t have an answer from the three in the living room. You figure they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.

“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.

You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”

Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.

“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.

“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”

This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.

“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”

“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.

Nico makes his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way. He picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.

“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.

“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.

Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.

“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.

“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly as he steps back from the table.

“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.

“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack places the bowl of salad next to the pot of pasta, taking his seat at the table.

“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.

“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack, smirking while avoiding eye contact with you.

“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.

The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.

“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”

“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.

“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.

“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.

“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.

“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.

“Lucky for us I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack celebrates. “This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the sacred space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”

“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.

It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.

“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.

“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t make it over there last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.

“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.

“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”

“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.

“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.

You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.

You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.

“On that note, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain as he makes his way to the sink.

“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”

“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, opening one of the drawers by the sink, grabbing a towel to dry dishes with.

“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied to Jack, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.

“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.

“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.

“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.

Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”

“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.

“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.

“Thanks for dinner, Y/N. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.

“Anytime, Cap,” you use his title, blaming Jack and Luke for the new habit. “After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”

This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.

“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” he steps through the door you’re holding open.

“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.

“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.

“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.

“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.

After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.

“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”

He hands you the jersey, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper left corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the ones I have. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.

“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.

You run the idea through your head for a second, thinking about how it would be a funny little dig at the boys. You also think about the implications of wearing a jersey that doesn’t belong to one of Hughes brothers. It’s harmless, though, right? Nico said it was just a fun way to get under their skin. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Y/N’ you think to yourself, trying to kick your habit of creative narratives in your head.

“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch,” you finally agree.

“My door’s always open for you.”

You look back down to the jersey in your hands to hide the blush that appears on your face at his words. You know you’ve only known him for a short period of time, tonight being the first real chunk of time you’ve spent in his presence, but Nico is making it really hard for you to keep your feelings for him casual. You’ve always had a habit of getting a case of the heart eyes fast, but you’re trying to be normal, for once.

He’s likely just being his normal, personable self and you’re letting every smile and joke go to your head, placing more meaning on them than is warranted. There’s just something about him, though. He’s extremely attractive, for one. But it’s more than that. From all that you’ve learned about him through Jack and Luke, and the easy conversation that has flowed between the two of you from the moment you first spoke to him in the hallway, you can’t lie to yourself and say you’re not drawn to the Swiss captain.

Your mind circles back to the idea of wearing his jersey this weekend and what Jack and Luke will think. What if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.

“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. And if they do, I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you,” you tell him, looking back up at his face.

“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.

“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait, knowing how difficult a hat trick is to pull off.

“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done,” he winks at you, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. “And if I don’t, consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming,” you respond, trying to prevent your thoughts from spiraling yet again.

Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “Think hard. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.

You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it. You think back on the entire interaction, a smile on your face at the possibility of being able to have Nico do anything you ask him. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.

“Luke, am I stupid or did Y/N call me stupid earlier?” he recalls your earlier comment about him being ‘just a pretty face’.

“Think about how you worded the first part of your question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.

Oh how you loved being back with your boys.

531 notes · View notes

scalingsvt8thusiast · 2 months

Text

Wait for your love 2 (angst)

summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you

inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)

a/n: I feel like this is much better quality than part 1 tbh, this is why i normally write in the daytime. I feel fresher yk :D

Know that you made me

Wonwoo was never much of a social boy. So when you initiated a conversation back in high school, he found himself devoid of any communication skills whatsoever. It took him a hot minute to realise he was a blubbering, stuttering mess.

For the rest of the day, he couldn’t get your bright smile out of his head. He couldn’t stop thinking how about your pigtails would swing so cutely when you moved your head and that little lisp you had because of your braces.

He went home that day thinking it was a one-off conversation, thinking that you’d realise how much of a loser he was and request to move seats. To his surprise you join him at the cafeteria the next day. You slid into the seat opposite him while he was mid bite into his sandwich. He looked around thinking you were talking to someone else. When you realised what he was doing, you threw your head back, letting out a melodious laughter. Wonwoo would compare your laughter to wind chimes on a windy day, it had a calming effect. He would try his best to have you reproduce that sound, succeeding almost instantly on his lame attempt at a joke.

He found himself looking forward to school on the daily, wanting to be close to you so much so that he would walk you all the way home, even though his house was the complete opposite direction. He’d go to sleep every night, replaying all your conversations in his head, replaying that beautiful smile of yours in his memory.

He didn’t think life could get any better than this until you had invited him to hangout after school. It was just a simple movie get-together. Wonwoo panicked for hours on what he would wear, changing between two of his favourite t-shirts at least 10 times. He finally chose the shirt with your favourite character on the front, hoping you'd compliment him (You did, luckily he had a face mask on because you would have thought he was sick from how red his cheeks were).

During the movie, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on what was happening on screen, he found his attention straying to you. The way your facial expressions would change rapidly depending on the plot had him hooked. Fortunately you never asked him any questions about the movie because God knows he wouldn’t be able to answer you.

Wonwoo felt like he was on cloud nine. He had you both in school and after school.

In his final year of high school, it dawned on him that the two of you may not have long to go. He had spent sleepless nights contemplating on what he should do. Wonwoo knew that he had to tell you some day that he was so irrevocably, undeniably in love with you.

The day finally came when Wonwoo had manned himself up enough to tell you. He had lured you out to your favourite cafe under the guise of having some important news. He put his lucky socks on while hoping and praying that even if you were to reject him, he would be able to take it well (he wouldn’t).

When he got to the cafe, Wonwoo felt as if all the air was sucked out of his lungs. There you were in your usual seat, your hair up in a messy bun and wearing the prettiest sun dress. When you turned to greet him with that warm smile, he felt like he was staring at the sun.

“There you are!” You teased, “For once, I’ve arrived earlier.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Okay, so I have some exciting news!” You started, turning your phone towards him. “I got in!”

Wonwoo squinted at your phone, it was an acceptance letter from the same university he was due to attend. He remembered you not wanting to apply to that university because your course was incredibly competitive. Considering the university was quite high ranking, you had reasoned that you would be rejected so you didn't bother trying.

“Oh!” Wonwoo eyes widened after reading the letter. “Congratulations!”

You beamed at him, your happiness warming Wonwoo’s chest. “We’ll be seeing each-other next year then!”

At this, Wonwoo relaxed. He didn’t have to tell you today. He had the next few years to plan a proper confession.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” You put your phone down and laced your hands together, giving Wonwoo your full attention.

“Oh, er,” Shit, he hadn’t planned for this. “I- I saw the cinema was rerunning Star Wars. We should go?”

Me and my truth we sit in silence (not really)

After graduation, Wonwoo’s brother had invited him to Seoul. Initially Wonwoo was reluctant, he wanted to spend his holidays with you at the beach, rolling around in the park, at the library, anywhere really. He just wanted to be with you.

Wonwoo eventually decided to go, not because he actually wanted too, but because you were going to spend some time with your relatives in Paris. He wouldn’t be with you even if he didn’t go. So after some encouragement from you, he booked the ticket.

Seoul was fun. It would have been more fun if you were there.

Wonwoo spent his days either in bed or on his brother’s fully built gaming PC, always thinking about you. His brother, noting that Wonwoo only had one friend (you), decided to make him join the local boys in some casual basketball. While Wonwoo was unwilling at first, his brother bribed him with a new gaming laptop. It was embarrassing how fast he ran to the court.

There Wonwoo met a few new friends, one of them being Kim Mingyu.

Wonwoo had planned on keeping to himself throughout the games but Mingyu decided to destroy that plan of his by greeting him as soon as Wonwoo stepped onto the court.

“Hello! My name is Mingyu!” Mingyu said, approaching Wonwoo with an outstretched arm. “I’ve never seen you before, you new?”

“Yeah, Wonwoo.” Wonwoo shook Mingyu’s hand hesitantly.

“Wonwoo? No, I’m Mingyu.” Mingyu replied quizzically.

“No!” Wonwoo stammered, “I’m Wonwoo.”

Mingyu mouth curved into a grin, his canines on full view. “Come on, I’ll intro you to everybody else!”

It didn’t take long for Mingyu to grow on Wonwoo, especially when they found out they were bound for the same university after holidays. Especially when Mingyu reminded Wonwoo so much of you.

After that first match, the rest of Wonwoo’s holiday was spent with Mingyu and his group of friends. They went skiing, footballing, swimming, anything under the sun. Everywhere he went, he would think about bringing you and how much more fun it would be if you were with him.

Mingyu was the rascal that taught Wonwoo the wonders of alcohol. Of course, Wonwoo didn’t know when too much was too much, thus he ended up confessing to his friends about you.

“Okay, big guy, let’s get you home.” Joshua wheezed as Wonwoo’s full weight was pressed onto his shoulder.

“Mingyu, you better apologise to his brother.” Seungcheol scolded the younger man as he helped Joshua pile Wonwoo into the taxi.

Mingyu waved Seungcheol off as he got into the passenger seat of the same taxi.

“Where are we going?” Wonwoo slurred, his body slumped onto the backseats.

“We’re going to send you home, bro.” Mingyu said, chuckling along with the taxi driver.

“Will we see y/n?” Wonwoo sounded hopeful.

Mingyu turned to look at his friend. Wonwoo had his eyes closed with a serene look on his face. Mingyu recognised that look whenever Wonwoo brought you up.

“We won’t see her today.” Mingyu replied with a smile, he liked watching his friend talk about you. Anything that involved you always made Wonwoo the happiest man alive.

“But why?” Wonwoo whined, he didn’t like the thought of not seeing you.

“Because she’s not here, but you’ll see her soon.” Mingyu emphasised as the taxi man arrived at Wonwoo’s house.

Mingyu pulled the drunk boy out of the backseat and bid the taxi man good night. Mingyu decided to crash on Wonwoo’s couch tonight.

“Have I ever told you about how pretty y/n is?” Wonwoo sighed dreamily as he remembered your beautiful face.

“Yes, yes you have.” Mingyu muttered as he tried his best to balance his friend on one arm while opening the front door.

“Well, she’s so pretty! Like the sun!” Wonwoo recounted, swinging his free arm wildly over his head. “She looks like she stepped right out of story book.”

“Of course, bro.” Mingyu responded, as he guided Wonwoo towards the bed.

“I can’t wait to see her.” Wonwoo groaned as he buried his face into his pillow.

Mingyu smiled and closed the room door.

It’s just me and you

If Wonwoo earned a dollar for every time his breath was stolen by you, he would be a millionaire.

There you were at the front door of your shared apartment. You no longer wore your hair up, instead letting it run down your shoulders. You ditched your jeans and sweatshirt for a satin skirt and a frilly top which hugged your figure so well. It had Wonwoo reeling.

He was literally speechless at how gorgeous you had become over the holidays. You were already undeniably beautiful before, but this was another level. He swore he could have fainted right there and then.

“Wonwoo?” You called for him, snapping him out of his daze.

“Y/n!” Wonwoo tried to sound as normal as possible, he could feel his pits getting sweatier by the second. He quickly wrenched the box you were carrying from your hands, beautiful people shouldn’t have to do work like this.

He tried his best to hold a full conversation with you, trying to reproduce all the advice he had gotten from the boys over the holidays. All while moving your boxes for you, ignoring your pleas to help.

God, how was he going to live with you when you looked so good.

The next few days, Wonwoo tried his best to talk to you. He would join you for meals and listened to you marvel about Paris, he would answer all your questions about Seoul and he would try to elicit if you had met anyone of interest while on holiday. It went a little something like this:

“So,” Wonwoo cleared his throat, “meet anyone in Paris?”

“Oh, I told you Woo,” you smiled as you flipped the pancake on the pan. “I met Minnie! She’s from Thailand.”

“Yes, Minnie.” Wonwoo trailed off. “Anyone else?”

“Erm, I guess I met her friend Yuqi, she’s sweet.” You said, laying the cooked pancakes on plates before joining your friend at the dining table.

“What about boys?” Wonwoo said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Boys?” You tilted your head. “What about them?”

“Did you meet any boys?” Wonwoo quizzed, eyes not meeting yours as he cut up the pancakes and placed it on your plate.

“Not really? I mostly went around with Minnie and her group of friends.” You said in between mouthfuls of dough and maple syrup.

“Oh.” Wonwoo couldn’t stop the feeling of relief blooming in his chest.

“Besides, you’re the only boy I need, Woo.”

You gave him another one of your pretty smiles and Wonwoo tried his best not to melt right there and then.

You got me misunderstood.

Mingyu had dragged him out to a party every other night. After Seoul, Wonwoo had learnt to actually enjoy some outings that didn’t involve you. That and he didn’t want to seem like a loser who stayed at home 24/7 in front of you.

It backfired on him majorly, partying every night with Mingyu’s never-ending stamina meant that he would be sleeping throughout the day and not seeing you as much as he would like.

He was extremely embarrassed by the amount of times he had called you to bail him out of a party. Mingyu would always disappear with some girl, not that Wonwoo minded, but that left him stranded a party alone and drunk. He couldn’t even remember how he got home one day if not for the note you left for him by his bedside with a bottle of Paracetamol.

I have an early class today, text me if you need anything ;-)

Wonwoo ignore the pounding in his head. Gently, he lifted the note and Paracetamol bottle, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He pulled out a box he kept under his bed, it was full of small trinkets he had stored from the outings with you over the years and a scarf you had knitted for him back in high school. He placed the two new treasures carefully in the box before going out to buy himself another bottle of Paracetamol.

One night, he was tipsy, not drunk. Or so he thought he wasn’t.

Maybe it was how Seokmin hyped him up at pre-drinks. Or maybe it was because Soonyoung had thought him the way of the Horanghae. He wasn’t sure but Wonwoo found himself filled to the brim with courage.

He leaned on your car in quiet contemplation as you fumbled with your car keys.

He looked down at you.

Gosh, you were so cute with your messy hair and glasses. He hadn’t seen you in specs for the longest time and it made him crazy.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, he grabbed your hand and flipped you against the car. Caging you with his arms.

His eyes traced every feature of yours, appreciating the way your eyes were wide from shock, the way you looked slightly confused with your raised eyebrows. The way your lips were glossy from your nightly vaseline routine.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo paused, searching for the right words. “You’re so pretty.”

He watched as your cheeks turned a light shade of pink. You were so cute.

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours. It was only right that you were his first kiss.

The next morning he shot up from his bed. He couldn’t remember anything after the kiss. He traced his own lips lightly with his fingers. Smiling like a maniac.

Suddenly a wave of insecurity crashed over him, his smile fell.

What if you didn’t like it? It was his first kiss, what if he was a bad kisser? What if you didn’t like him? What if you thought he was a weirdo? Oh my god, did he accidentally sexually assault you?

The blood drained from his face, how was he going to face you now?

We can’t be friends, but I’d just like to pretend

Wonwoo spent weeks avoiding you.

He imagined the look of disgust on your face and he couldn’t bear to even look at you.

He spent his nights partying, trying to push the fears of you rejecting him out of his head.

Mingyu and the rest of the boys became increasingly concerned. The more responsible boys would drag Wonwoo home every night. That’s how some of them had met you.

You opened the door after a few knocks, even if it was 4AM in the morning. You’d apologise profusely on Wonwoo’s behalf as you helped them drag him to his bedroom. Once Wonwoo was comfortable in bed, you’d offer them a drink and the couch to sleep on. Worry filling your eyes at how tired each of them were.

Each and every single one of the boys liked you immediately. They found that everything Wonwoo said about you was true. You truly were a pure and gentle soul.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Seungcheol hissed at Wonwoo.

Soonyoung eyed his friends wearily. The three of them had just found a seat at the library and were busy unpacking their things.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo was taken aback, Seungcheol rarely got mad at him.

“That was y/n, wasn’t it?” Seungcheol said in between gritted teeth.

As the three of them walked into the library, you were just on your way out. Wonwoo had spotted you first, quickly hiding behind Seungcheol and Soonyoung, albeit failing due to his height. Your lips stretched into a grin as you waved enthusiastically at him. Wonwoo quickly looked away, not wanting you to see him like this.

The two other boys watched the entire exchange, they saw the way your face fell when Wonwoo pretended not to see you. Seungcheol and Soonyoung exchanged glances before waving back at you. You beamed at the both of them and disappeared out of the library.

“Why are you ignoring her?” Soonyoung asked quietly.

“I’m not ignoring her,” Wonwoo whispered, “I just didn’t see her.”

“Bullshit.” Seungcheol said, receiving glares from other library-goers.

“She’s very nice.” Soonyoung muttered, looking at his friend. He wondered if somewhere along the line Wonwoo had gotten possessed by some demon.

“Look,” Seungcheol whispered angrily, “If I had a housemate like you, I would have moved out ages ago.”

Soongyoung nodded in complete agreement. Wonwoo shrunk in his seat as the older man berated him.

Seungcheol sighed and gave Wonwoo a stern look, “I’m not sure why I have to tell you this, but you are lucky to have her.”

That night Wonwoo found himself lying on his bed. He could see the light streaming through the gaps of his door from the dining room. You were probably sitting out there, studying.

He slowly got up from his bed and looked around his room, he needed an excuse to talk to you. His eyes landed on his pile of worksheets from his most recent tutorial. That was worth a shot.

He pulled his door open slightly and peeked out. You sat at the dining table with your head resting on your textbook, apart from the sound of your diffuser running at the coffee table, it was complete silence.

Wonwoo bit his lip, were you sleeping?

He decided to try his luck.

“Y/n?” Wonwoo croaked out as he emerged from his room.

Your head shot up from the book and your eyes met his.

“Could you help me with this?” Wonwoo said lamely as he held out the worksheet for you to see.

Wonwoo was inwardly sweating. What if you rejected to help? What would he do then?

He watched as you gaze drifted from him to the pieces of paper in his hands. He watched as your lips curled into a smile.

“Sure!”

He was lucky. So fucking lucky

“Thanks.”

Not how you made me

Wonwoo was drunk. Again.

Tonight, Mingyu had invited him to a house party. Someone’s birthday or something. He hadn’t planned on drinking but of course the drinking games got to him. It was Seokmin’s genius idea to play drunk foot volleyball and Wonwoo seriously sucked at that game.

By the end of the match he was stumbling all over the place. Then he saw you. Or thought he saw you.

The other boys had all disappeared somewhere into the house and this girl who looked a whole lot like you was currently chatting him up. Granted Wonwoo’s glasses had been destroyed in drunk foot volleyball and all he could see was a blurry mess. He ended up making out with you(?) at some corner.

Next thing he knew, he was lying bed.

His head was pounding as he turned to his bedside table and pulled out his spare pair of glasses. He was finally able to see clearly with them on. He turned to his side and there was a girl sleeping next to him.

Wonwoo froze.

What happened? Who was this girl? Were you home? Did you see him last night?

“Fuck” He cursed, he quickly got up and pulled on a pair of pants.

“Wony? Get back into bed.” The girl muttered as she turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry if this makes me sound like an asshole.” Wonwoo said, hesitantly. “Could you please get ready to leave?”

“What?” The girl said sitting up from the bed.

“I’ve got an early class.” Wonwoo had to come up with some sort of excuse.

“So?” She rolled her eyes before lying back down. “I’ll just let myself out later.”

“No, no.” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran a hand through his hair. “My girlfriend is in the next room. Please Leave.”

At this the girl begrudgingly got out of his bed, Wonwoo quickly turned around to give her some privacy. When she finished changing, she headed for the door.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re going around fucking other girls?” She said on her way out. “Fucking asshole.”

Right after she left, Wonwoo went to knock on your door. He knocked a few times, calling your name timidly. There was no answer. He reasoned that you must have left for class.

He would talk to you after class. He had to.

So for now it’s only me

Wonwoo came home from class, ready to speak with you.

He entered the apartment and realised how empty it was. He looked around. All your things were gone.

No.

He made his way to your room and pushed the door open. There was nothing but an empty bed and a study table.

No, please.

He turned to the closet and pulled it open. He was met with nothing but hangers and empty drawers.

Please.

He pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. It was probably a prank.

Please.

He realised he had an unread message. From you.

Hey! Sorry, for such a last minute notice. Due to personal issues, I don’t think I can live with you for the rest of the term. Don’t worry, I’ll still send you my half of the rent until you find someone new. Good luck :)

He had fucked up.

a/n2: again, always open to criticism. there will be a part 3. I promise. depends on when I want to write it :D

570 notes · View notes

benedictscanvas · 1 year

Text

saved you a seat - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

word count: 3.1k of pure fluff

a/n: no warnings for this one except language, obviously. i just wanted to imagine having a fluffy little coach trip with jamie tartt so i hope there are others out there who want to imagine the same. requests are SO open for jamie/roy/sam/ted please do send some ideas <3

---

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to engineer this situation, but you were worried that if you thought about it too hard, you might end up losing it. Somehow, on a coach to Amsterdam, you’d ended up wedged between a window and Jamie Tartt and despite that being the stuff of nightmares only about a year ago, now it was something you couldn’t have hoped for in advance.

“I said I’d save a seat for ya, didn’t I?” he’d claimed proudly when you shimmied past him to sit in the window seat. He’d been smiling hopefully at you as he patted it when you’d walked down the aisle of the coach. You’d thought you’d be sitting with Rebecca at the back until he’d tugged at your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“To be totally transparent, I thought you were joking,” you murmured to him once you were settled, bag tucked underneath your seat, “You also said the same to Roy yesterday, and I heard you saying it to Sam this morning.”

“Yeah, but I was fuckin’ with them,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Besides, we have a whole conditioner campaign to plan, right? Now’s as good a time to start as any.”

You tried not to let your heart sink a little. Of course it was work-related. You’d just have to be happy with the grin he was sporting as he nudged your arm.

“You’re on,” you grinned back, then, with a show of boldness, “But only if you promise not to complain when I inevitably fall asleep on you later.”

If anything, his grin grows wider.

“Shoulder’s all yours, love. I’m told it’s pretty comfy.”

“Who’s told you that? Roy?”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s too fond. You busy yourself trying to manoeuvre your laptop out of your bag, but a hand on yours stops you in your tracks. When you look up, Jamie’s face is soft and he’s tucking your laptop away again.

“Relax. The coach’ll take hours yet. We can get comfy first, yeah?”

“You’re right,” you concede, shuffling into the back of your seat again with a content sigh, “Don’t know why I’m pretending to be eager to work.”

He laughs and you join in. You want to tell him he’s got a downright infectious laugh these days, because its lighter than ever and always filled with genuine happiness, but you don’t. Too much. Instead, you push up on the back of the seat in front of you to tap Dani urgently on the shoulder, then sit down quickly and turn a fake-reprimanding glance at Jamie.

“What is it, amigo?” he directs his question towards Jamie who’s looking incredulous, “Or are you playing a cheeky prank?”

You tut and sink further into your seat as you shake your head at Jamie. He begins to point at you, but Dani is already ruffling Jamie’s hair and turning back around as he mutters happily in Spanish. Jamie turns to you, brows furrowed.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?”

You shrug, as playful as you can manage with your heart beating a little harder in your chest. He narrows his eyes at you, then settles into his seat, and you know he’s plotting revenge. You can’t wait.

---

It’s been an hour and a half, and you and Jamie have been going back and forth almost the entire time, the very idea of doing any work on his new ad campaign buried in favour of having fun. Jamie had snuck your phone from your lap and prank called Ted who was sat at the back of the bus. You’d then somehow managed to do the same with Jamie’s phone, but decided to send a rather inflammatory text to Jan Maas, which was followed by a half hour argument between the two men that was incredibly entertaining.

Most recently, Jamie had made a terrible noise putting his mouth to his elbow and blamed it on you, but luckily Sam had seen him do it and you’d been able to clear your name. It had been a stellar effort though, so you were giving it some time before you found something perfect to retaliate with.

“Can I ask y’ something?” Jamie spoke suddenly, but his voice was softer than you’d heard it on the journey so far. You turned to him and nodded encouragingly, “I was jus’ sat here wonderin’ - and please don’t take this the wrong way - but why y’ decided to come with us? I’m happy about it, ‘course I am, but-“

“I get it, Jamie,” you said quickly, because you could see how much he was struggling. It was heartwarming how earnest he was when he’d said he was happy you’d come with them though, and you were fighting an urge to lean in and kiss his cheek to stop his rambling, “I’m not exactly essential personnel for a trip to Amsterdam.”

“Fuck, that’s exactly what I was tryin’ not to sound like - wait, y’ don’t really think that do ya?”

“Jamie, seriously, stop worrying! It’s sweet but so unnecessary. Hannah, you know the one that usually handles socials? She couldn’t make it so Rebecca asked if I’d fill in. I’m not one to turn down a free trip with some of my favourite people.”

His smile was genuine until the last sentence, where it morphed into something cocky as he puffed his chest.

“You wanna name any of those favourite people of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think about it. God, it felt like it would be so easy to admit that you’d jumped at the chance to come because you jumped at any chance to spend time with Jamie these days, but you couldn’t. There were hours of this bus ride left to sit in awkward silence if he didn’t take it well.

“Well, Ted’s gotta be right up there,” you began, shifting in your seat to look around the bus, “Sam, of course, and, god, Colin is a must. Rebecca, obviously-“

“No one who’s last name might happen to rhyme with a part of the body, or somethin’?”

You scrunch up your face in fake confusion. It’s easy to imagine doing this forever, just playing pretend with Jamie Tartt for the rest of time, and you’ll play along as long as he lets you.

“Ohhh you mean Jan Maas? Rhymes with ass, very clever. Didn’t know you were such a poet.”

“I dabble, me,” he deadpans, but neither of you can keep it up as you dissolve into giggles. Jamie pulls his cap further down his forehead to hide just how much he’s cracking up and you tuck your face down - no need to have the rest of the bus trying to get in on the joke. When you both calmed down, he turned, looking back up at you from under his hat, “Very quick by the way. Jan Maas, ass. You’re good, you are.”

“You’ve only just noticed?” you asked incredulously, intent on teasing him just a step further, but he takes his hat off to look at you properly when he answers, running his hand once, twice through his hair first, of course.

“Nah,” he replied, voice that soft whisper that you’d come to crave, “Y’ wanna know when I noticed?”

You swallowed thickly, leaning into him in the same way he had, all conspiratorial and close.

“I dunno. Do I wanna know?”

Jamie ignored you and continued, eyes flitting from your face to a thread on his joggers he was picking at.

“It was when I’d just come back to Richmond an’ everyone was mad at me. Rightly so, I know. But I was sat in me car, havin’ lunch cause no one would eat with me yet. You were walking past with Rebecca going to lunch and you waved at me, with this mad bright smile on your face y’know?”

“I may have a vague memory of that,” you said, as if seeing him alone in his car hadn’t broken your heart at that time.

“An’ then the day after, when you ate in your car an’ invited me to join. I knew y’ were only doin’ it for me, but I didn’t care. I jus’ remember being so grateful. So, so grateful. That’s when I knew you were…”

He trailed off, but he was stuck staring at your face. You could feel the heat sparking down the length of your spine as he seemed to search your expression for something. His own was unreadable.

“…good?”

It was like you had snapped him out of a trance and somehow you wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Good, yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmured, then seemed to let that cocky mask fall back into place, “You wanna tell me when you realised I was good now so I don’t just sit here like a prick? Or, let me guess, you’re still waiting for it to happen?”

Despite the teasing tone, you somehow knew this wasn’t an opportunity to joke. There was a newfound vulnerability in Jamie that you were always careful not to tread on; it was such a welcome change after all.

“Nope, I know exactly when it was. I walked past the boot room one day, a couple weeks before we had that first lunch I think, and you were making sure things were tidy enough for Will to sort. There was nobody to watch you do it, either. I just knew that you were a different Jamie. That you were…good.”

Good didn’t cut it at all. You’d sworn then and there that you were going to help him find his way at Richmond whatever it took, and eating lunch in your car just so that he could join you a few weeks later felt like a good start. It had been. As Jamie worked to gain the love of his teammates, he had you as a constant sounding board, willing lunch partner and occasional movie night holder. He wasn’t invited over often, not wanting to seem too eager, but he’d never turned you down.

Yes, that was the moment you’d realised he’d changed, but there had been a million moments since that had turned him into the first person that came to mind when he’d asked you for your favourite person on the bus.

Now he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all, fully trained on that thread he’d been picking at. You sighed and flicked his hand to stop him ruining his favourite pair, and he finally looked up at you, wide puppy eyes that always made you melt when they showed up.

“You really mean that?”

Rather than replying, you hold out your pinky to him and watch his smile grow as he twists his own around yours. You let it linger then lean in to kiss your own hand and gesture for him to do the same. He does it so tenderly you think you’re getting lightheaded.

“Every word,” you assure him, settling back into your seat and untangling your hands from each other, “Now that I’ve been so nice to you, think I can cash in that shoulder offer from earlier?”

It was easier to revert to the easy banter than continue down this sincere path. And even though it was only just beginning to get dark, you couldn’t look at him any longer. Maybe if you were resting on his shoulder, you could grin for a bit without him wondering what was wrong with you.

He patted his shoulder invitingly and you snuggled down into it, until your cheek was smushed into his jacket and you could smell the cologne radiating from him. You threaded an arm into the crook of his elbow without thinking, just because it was more comfortable, but when you moved to take it away, he rested his hand on yours to keep you there. That same hand then came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, staying to cradle your head for a moment.

You held your breath.

He quickly thought better of leaving his hand there, squeezing your head for just a moment before dropping his arm back to his side.

It took a while to breathe naturally again, especially knowing he’d feel every painstaking inhale and exhale against him, and it took even longer for your eyes to close and to finally drift off.

---

When you woke up again, you had to squint as your eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness of the coach. It had to have been a couple of hours. You wiped your mouth to ensure you hadn’t drooled on your very kind seat partner then risked a glance up at him without moving your head too much.

He looked asleep. His chin was tucked against the crown of your head, and his whole body was turned into yours in a way it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep. There was nothing that would make you want to move and disturb the moment, except for the unfortunate cramp in your neck you were simply going to have to stretch out.

You tried to gently ease your head out from under his but his eyes fluttered open immediately as he looked at you in concern.

“Y’alright love?”

That voice. Huskier and broader than ever in its newly woken state. You smiled up at him and whispered back, noticing that the rest of the bus were either asleep or resting as you stretched your neck.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry. You can have my shoulder now if you like, ‘s only fair.”

“Nah you’re alright. If you’re awake, I’m awake. What kind of seatmate would I be if I left you on your own, hm?”

“A normal one?” you offered, but he shook his head, holding a hand to his heart as if wounded.

“I will not have myself being described as anythin' but fuckin' extraordinary, please,” he insisted quietly, making you chuckle, “Did ya sleep well?”

“Very. Whoever told you that you have a comfy shoulder was annoyingly right.”

There was a note of jealousy in your tone that you didn’t expect to be there when you started talking. If Jamie noticed it, he didn’t say anything, even though you could have sworn you saw a smirk pass across his features.

“Well, I’ll let Colin know you agree with him,” he said matter-of-factly, and you wondered if he was telling you it was Colin on purpose. It was so difficult to second guess your every interaction with him, feelings getting stronger every minute you spent with him. Really, you were tired of it and tired in general and it was enough. Your usual caution had been left behind. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe finally confess, but he was talking before you could begin.

“Actually, can I tell ya a secret?”

It took you a moment to recover from what you had been about to say and respond to him.

“Uh…yeah, of course. Anything, you know that.”

“I do, yeah. Yeah, that’s part of it actually,” he was so in his head, but he was looking at you like he had earlier, searching for something. Nowadays, he looked so soft all the time, but there was a selfish part of you that hoped maybe he was especially soft with you, “It’s about what we said earlier. I lied to ya, and I’ve been fuckin’ kickin’ meself for it ever since.”

“You lied?”

“Yeah. I said the day we had lunch in your car was when I realised you were good. That’s not true,” he admitted, as if he was saying something shameful, “I already knew you were good, way before I was done bein’ a full-time prick. Anyone could tell you were good.”

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

“That day in the car park was actually when I realised you were just…fuckin’ incredible. Like, the most beautiful person I know. Not just fit, I knew you were fuckin’ fit, I’ve got eyes, but like- y’ were just somethin’ else. You are somethin’ else. Special, like.”

You felt frozen in your seat. It was hard to tell with how 'Jamie' the whole speech had been, but you were pretty sure there was a confession in there. It didn’t sound like something he’d say to any of his mates. Still, you had to be sure.

“Sorry, Jamie, I might be being thick here but are you saying you’re like…into me? Like, romantically?”

You cringed instantly at your choice of words but he didn’t falter. This time, when he laid his hand over yours, he kept it there, stroking a steady rhythm into the back of your hand.

“I’m saying I’m into you in like…all the ways y’ can be into someone. I’m fuckin’ mad about you, Y/N. The only one who doesn’t see it is you, but you fell asleep on me shoulder and I was in fuckin’ heaven so I’m telling ya. Look, I’m not expectin’ anything-“

“Well, you should. Expect things, I mean,” you cut him off, because you can’t go another second without reciprocating, “I thought you saved me a seat to talk about your conditioner campaign.”

He scoffed loudly then glanced around to check he hadn’t woken anyone as he lowered his voice again.

“I couldn’t give a shit about all that,” he said as firmly as he could whisper, “I give a shit about you. A lot of shits.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you reply.

“God, I give so many shits about you, Jamie. Too many shits. Have done for fucking forever, I was just about to tell you.”

“What, before I did?” he said, making a face, “As if I’d let you steal my thunder.”

You take an opportunity and a boldness you can’t help but seize as you take his face in both hands and pull it towards yours until you’re both a breath apart. He closes his eyes and pushes towards you but you keep him just a moment away, stroking a trail along one of his eyelids.

“Well I think you’re fucking incredible too. Prick,” you mumble, without any venom. It sounds like the most loving pet name in the world, the way you utter it for his ears only.

“Yours,” he counters quietly, winding his arms around your waist until he can pull you fully onto his lap and you have to bite back a squeal. You both glance around for onlookers and find none, “Think the coast is clear, babe?”

“Crystal,” you insist, surging forward to press a searing kiss to his lips, gratified when he responds just as enthusiastically, pushing back into you, both hands clutching at you like you were about to disappear any moment.

There were still plenty of hours left on the coach, however, and you were content to stay exactly where you were as long as Jamie would let you.

And there was no chance of him letting you go anywhere.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you

2K notes · View notes

seivsite · 10 months

Text

BRUSHSTROKES OF MAGIC.

includes: lyney x fem!reader. painter!reader, fluff, may be ooc lyney, painter and her magician muse — wc: 591

You had finally secured tickets to Lyney and Lynette’s captivating Magic Show.

After putting in hard work through small art commissions and assisting others, your perseverance paid off. Luckily, you found yourself seated in the second row, enjoying a perfect view of the entire stage. As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the enchanting magicians.

“Welcome to Lyney and Lynette’s Magic Show!” Lyney exclaimed, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture.

The performance unfolded before your eyes, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

The show concluded with a burst of applause, whistles, and amazed cheers filling the room. Lyney and Lynette took their bows, expressing gratitude to the audience before exiting the stage.

While others started to leave the theatre, you remained lost in your thoughts, unable to tear yourself away.

You noticed Lyney’s occasional glances in your direction, but you brushed them off, assuming he was merely engaging with the audience. Your hands moved instinctively, retrieving a small paper and a worn pencil that you carried everywhere. Swiftly, you sketched the scene, capturing the magicians as the focal point.

Unaware of another presence, you snapped out of your trance when a red rose materialised before you.

Your eyes widened at the sight, then lifted to meet the culprit—a mischievous grin adorning his face.

“Well, M’lady, perhaps we should step outside before we find ourselves locked in here,” he suggested, tucking the flower gently into your hair. Extending his hand, he invited you to join him.

You accepted his hand, and he turned to his sister, who stood waiting.

“Took you quite a while,” she remarked, her expression unchanging.

“Apologies, Lynette. It seems M’lady was deeply absorbed in thought,” he responded.

“Please stop addressing me like that,” you murmured, your cheeks tinged with a blush.

“Apologies again! I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing your name. I’m Lyney. This is my sister, Lynette, and you are...?” He walked alongside you as the three of you departed the theatre.

“(Name), pleased to make your acquaintance,” you replied.

From that day forward, your bond with Lyney grew remarkably strong, much to Lynette’s amusement as she shook her head at her brother’s persistent attempts to win you over.

In a meadow bursting with vibrant blooms, Lyney stood amidst the flowers, becoming both your muse and a devoted spectator. As your brush danced gracefully across the canvas, each stroke seemed to weave a rich tapestry of emotions.

“Are you almost finished, M’lady?” Lyney’s voice broke the tranquil air as he noticed your momentary pause.

“Hmm, just a few more minutes,” you replied, urging him to remain where he stood.

When the art piece finally took shape, it radiated colours and beauty that surpassed mere brushwork. Lyney was thoroughly impressed, unable to contain himself as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, prompting a delightful blush from you.

“Thank you for immortalising me in your art, M’lady. I shall treasure it,” Lyney expressed, his tone sincere.

“It’s no big deal,” you replied with a smile. Lyney settled beside the portrayal of yourself, gazing at you with unwavering attention.

“Is something wrong?” you questioned, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanour.

“No, it’s just that something has been occupying my thoughts,” he confessed, his fond gaze fixed on you.

Your head tilted in curiosity, awaiting an explanation.

“Despite my belief in the wonder of my magic tricks, they pale in comparison to your beauty and talent. I’m afraid, M’lady, that you’ve stolen my heart. So, will you do me the honour of accepting this responsibility?”

NOTES. he’s cute i like the idea of painter!reader w lyney whos a magician, also my second genshin work weee. kinda rushed this so whatever plot i have is a bit wonky, maybe.

TAG LIST. @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

1K notes · View notes

rinhaler · 3 months

Text

I Guess I Can't State My Feelings Too Soon

Your big brother is jealous and he hates himself for it :(

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ step brother!taiju shiba x f!reader

Genre: porn! (minimal plot) Notes: my first tokyorev fic since i moved blogs wheeee did NOT think it would be taiju but i cannot stop thinking about that man Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, stepcest!, jealousy ♡, possessiveness, co-dependency, virgin!reader, male masturbation ♡, sex toys ♡, porn consumption, panty theft ♡, unhealthy relationship, power dynamics. Words: 3.5k

He often wonders if you realise how ungrateful you come across, sometimes. Not only ungrateful, but disrespectful to boot.

Do you know how hard your big brother works? You’ll say you do, if he were to ask. But he’s sure you have no idea. He shielded you from the horrors of his world as you were thrust upon him out of nowhere. His new, beautiful step-sister who’s eyes would spill tears around raised voices. What choice did he have? You’d never understand or be able to comprehend his way of life or the world he had built for himself and his family.

As your other siblings grew up and drifted away, Taiju kept you dependent on him. He made it so you had to rely on him for everything. He’s putting you through fashion school while subsidizing your very existence. He keeps you fed and clothed all in the comfort of his beautiful penthouse.

You want for nothing.

And he’s never made you feel inadequate for your obvious dependency.

He doesn’t use it as a weapon or hold it against you. He just adores you, wholly. His beautiful little sister, the sweet little darling who needs her big brother to do everything for her. It motivates him, truthfully. When things feel hard, mundane, tedious, he reminds himself who he’s doing it for.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Takashi.” you smile, giddily, waving like a schoolgirl with a crush as you watch him leave.

He waves, too. A wide grin on his face as his eyes scrunch up with joy. It soon fades, though, as he finds himself accidentally walking right into your brother’s chest. Taiju’s expression harrows, though you don’t register it as you focus on the way Takashi smiles at you before excusing himself.

You’re ungrateful, and disrespectful.

His neck and jaw jerk as he tears off his tie. He’s visibly irritated, but you’re too naïve to realise. You greet him, excitedly, though you’re soon left feeling dejected when he opts to ignore you instead.

“Get me some wine from the cellar.” he demands. Without a please or even a glance in your direction, you know something is wrong. You’ve never been one to deny him, however, slinking away to the lounge to retrieve an aged red from the wall-built cellar.

He looks at you when you return, sliding the bottle to him across the marble countertop of the kitchen island separating you. It’s a brief look, that makes your heart throb with hurt. He’s mad at you, but you don’t know why. Soft yellow eyes that only offer gentle glances are showing you a side to your brother you didn’t know existed.

His pupils are almost slitted like a wild animal, eyes you’ve never seen before where your brother is concerned. He sighs, watching the cogs clank in your brain as you try and analyse who this man is before you.

Luckily for you, he doesn’t think he’s capable of staying angry with you.

“Would you like a drink, little sister?” he questions. It stops you from thinking, momentarily.

It’s a first. He’s never let you drink before, let alone his prized cellar wine. You take a seat on the bar stool regardless, nodding excitedly at the prospect of having your first real drink with your favourite brother. He twists off the lid and slides the glass he’d gotten for himself over to you.

Your heart rate quickens as his eyes, those same, predatory eyes, remain fixated on you as he pours. The wine spills like blood, sloshing into your glass until it’s halfway full. And somehow, without even watching what he’s doing, he managed to not spill a drop.

He takes off his blazer and sets it down on the counter. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves and turns away from you to fetch another glass for himself. His muscles flex and you see his exposed, veiny arms sheen with sweat as he reaches up to grab the nearest glass.

“Pour it for me.” he tells you, setting it down as he turns to face you again. His eyes seem tired, now, but still unfamiliar to you. And so you find yourself nodding, doing exactly what your big brother has asked as your hairline begins to form beads of sweat.

You don’t look at him, not even briefly, as you start to pour. You’re slow and patient, but you feel him staring at you all the while. And it’s menacing. Even with patience and focus, you spill a drop onto the pristine marble.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him.

You move to find something to wipe it up with, but he stops you before you can even jump down from the stool. He presses his thick thumb into the cherry red liquid, seemingly absorbing it all before he raises it to his lips. You watch keenly as your brother’s tongue juts seductively from his lips before he meticulously licks over the pad of his thumb to taste it.

He clears his throat and leans across countertop.

You feel so small.

“Was that your boyfriend?” he wonders, eyes glued to you as he speaks with a low, gravelly tone. He sips soon after, making mental notes of your responses as you process his words.

“U-Um, no, Taiju,” you shake your head. You feel blistering heat in your face as you think about your classmate, and the intimate thoughts you’ve had about him for weeks now, all while your brother’s attention is entirely fixed on you. “We’re in the same class! He came to drop off some books he thought might help me.”

It’s a confession that is entirely the truth. He isn’t your boyfriend and you’re sure he never will be. Not unless he makes the first move, that is. You’re far too shy to even suggest that your feelings for him a more intense than they should be for simple classmates. Taiju nods, finally looking away from you as he takes another drink.

“Finish up and go to bed.” he commands.

You nod, too nervous to argue. You’ve never seen him like this or even heard him be so curt with you. It won’t bother you to go to bed, not one bit. Hopefully tomorrow he’ll be back to his usual, loving self.

He leaves you alone as he strides towards his study, finally giving you the chance to breathe. You knock back the remainder of your wine and pick up your book bag and school supplies, your pace hastening as you get closer to your room.

“Oi.” Taiju speaks, voice booming through the hallway before you can open the door to your bedroom. He leans against the doorframe to his office, arms folded as his eyes squint at you. “If you want to have people over, clear it with me first.” he demands.

“Oh,” you sigh, and it’s riddled with relief as you realise that is what the problem has been all along. He’s upset you’ve invited a stranger into his home without asking. It’s understandable, and you’re soon smiling again as you look at him. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.” you admit, regretting it almost instantly as it soon feels irrelevant to have said.

“I don’t want boys I don’t know here alone with my little sister.” he tells you.

He approaches, and your anxiety soars once again as you sense a looming threat in the air and the shortening distance between the two of you. He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, your breath hitching at the contact while he forces you to look into his saffron gaze.

“You are very dear to me,” he confesses, “If anyone were to take advantage of you… well. You’re going to do as I ask next time, aren’t you? We won’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course… I’m so sorry, I should have—”

“You should.” he snarls. “But I forgive you. Go to bed, now.”

You nod, feeling slightly more upbeat after hearing he’s accepted your apology. He stops you from retreating to your room, though. His large, heavy hand encasing your forearm in a tight grip whilst his thumb still caresses your chin. It drifts, though, pulling the fat of your lower lip before he pulls it away. He taps his own lip twice, his expression still unamused as he looks at you.

“A goodnight kiss, princess,” he orders. You nod, it’s not out of the ordinary to kiss him goodnight. You stand on your tip toes before leaning in to peck his lips. They’re soft, and fit against yours beautifully as both of your eyes close during the contact. It’s chaste, to the point, and yet you’ve never felt an intensity during a kiss from him like you have just now.

His eyes are gentle, again. And the smile he offers is earnest. He kisses your cheek before you go, whispering in your ear sensually enough for a chill to traverse down your spine.

“Good girl.”

He opens the door to your room, remaining in place until you go inside. He shuts it after you get inside, leaning his back against the nearest wall as his head thuds against it. The cold metal of his rings cools down his flushed face, though he finds himself breathless.

Not from the act of a simple kiss, it’s the shame. Feelings for you, his sweet little sister, bubbling to the surface despite trying to repress them for so many years. He’s jealous and he’s ashamed of himself for letting things go this far. But you are his.

His sister.

His responsibility.

His property.

“Jesus Christ—”

He catches himself. He kicks away from the wall and rakes his fingers through tousled hair as he decides to distract himself with work in his office.

It’s taken blood and sweat to reach what he’s achieved. From being a sixteen year old menace to society, he’s now a highly respectable businessman with a chain of restaurants under his belt. Among other, less legal sources of income, of course.

It’s all for you.

As he looks through business expenses and documents from his lawyers, all he can think of is you.

It’s all been for you.

It’s always been for you.

He pushes his hair out of his face, noticing how it’s starting to cling to his forehead as he sweats profusely. Thoughts of you plaguing his every thought. His cock begins to throb in his slacks. His eyes drift from the papers scattered across his desk to his computer monitor. And then, slowly, they sink to the locked top drawer of his desk.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He ignores the drawer, instead, deciding to ignore his responsibilities as he types Pornhub in the search engine. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he speaks, exasperated as the homepage is flooded with an assortment of trending step sibling videos.

His heart pounds as he scrolls for a while, but eventually finds the willpower to click away, opting to find something else. He’s a simple man with simple taste. He’s always been into rougher stuff, deciding something along those lines will be best to quickly rub one out and clear his mind so he can focus on what he actually needs to be getting on with.

He clicks on a video, immediately cringing at the corny plot and dialogue as he unbuttons his shirt and rids himself of his belt. He’s panting as he pulls out his cock. If he’s been honest, his cock has been leaking since you fetched his wine so obediently.

He hisses when he realises he’s thinking about you again.

And soon enough he’s willing himself to concentrate on the girl in the video getting fucked within an inch of her life. It’s loud, rough, aggressive. Just how he likes. He tugs desperately, a vein popping in his forehead as he eagerly tries to get off to what he’s seeing.

It’s your fault.

He’s wondering if you’d ever be into fucking like this. He’s sure you’re a virgin, so he’d have to be careful with you at first.

“Fucking stop,” he whines.

He wants to cum to her, the girl in the video. It’s a lie, though. He wants to cum to you. He wants to hear how gorgeous you’d sound if he were the one to defile you for your very first time. Your own step brother, infiltrating your walls and making you cum around his cock.

“Shit,” he keeps trying to concentrate on her. His eyes soon wandering to the locked drawer again. He glances one final time at the video, grunting as he continues to fuck his fist until ultimately giving up.

He searches something new. Something he’s never beat one off to before. Softcore virgin. He grimaces as his finger hovers above the enter key, he knows he won’t be able to finish otherwise, but part of him thinks it’s not too late to turn back. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the sheer amount of results that are step-sibling videos. He considers it, again. He really does, but as he continues to scroll, he starts to take an interest in the masturbation videos.

The soft, feminine moans immediately make his cock jump. It’s perfect, it’s so sickeningly perfect because he can pretend it’s you. And if he’s this far gone, he feels no need to deprive himself anymore. He lifts up his keyboard, sliding the locked drawer key from a hidden compartment underneath. His hands are practically shaking as he tries to slide it into the slot. He quickly turns, breathing heavily as he almost rips the drawer from its place as he opens it.

He scoffs as his hand flies to a clear fleshlight, yanking it out and setting it down on his desk before he retrieves what he’s really been avoiding this whole time.

You’ve never had to do laundry, and he doesn’t do it either. He hires staff to come through the week to do tedious things like cleaning the apartment and washing dirty clothes. It’s been about a fortnight since he saw an opportunity laid bare before him.

You were at school, a fact now he’s growing to despise as he imagines you flirting with Takashi Mitsuya during your classes. But he was working from home, too irritated to handle business dealings in person on that particular Thursday. And he happened to see a maid emerge from your room with a laundry basket, a frilly pink thong atop a pile of outfits you’d worn through the week to college.

He wrestled with himself, he did.

But it wasn’t too difficult to distract the maid for long enough to pocket them for himself.

The video continues to play, his cock gushing as he stares down at your panties. He’s too far gone. He’s too aroused and his mind is muddied as he thinks about everything going on in his life and yours. You’re too honest to lie, Mitsuya isn’t your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never be.

He snatches the thong and strokes his cock with it in hand. His eyes roll back, a broken moan leaving his lips as he continues to pleasure himself. He stops abruptly, though, as the woman in the video he’s watching stops teasing her clit. She shows off a dildo, slowly rubbing it through her wet folds until she eventually begins to push it inside of herself.

She’s cute, but she isn’t you.

If he closes his eyes, however, she is. He looks to his fleshlight, deeming this the closest he’ll get to fucking you no matter how desperately he yearns for it. He carefully guides his tip into the plastic pussy, moaning a little louder than intended as he bottoms out.

He bites his lip as he recalls the woman in the store squeezing her thighs together as she helped him pick the toy out. It makes him laugh, briefly, as he recalls how forward she had been. He fucked her in the changing rooms as she insisted she’d need to see what he was packing so that she could help him pick the perfect model.

She sent him away with the biggest size.

Your pussy won’t feel like this, though. He’s certain you won’t be so generous and accommodating. Your tight little virgin cunt will fight against him, but he’ll make it fit.

“Jesus, fuck—” he groans, admitting defeat for the final time as he brings your panties to his face and almost suffocates himself with the material.

His chest swells as he inhales, before it deflates with shuddering breaths as he savours the scent of your used unmentionables. He picks up the pace with his toy in tandem with the woman in the video. His moans are boisterous and uncaring, he’s lost the ability to feel shame as he imagines you bouncing on his cock crying his name and trying to become accustomed to his length.

He needs it more than air.

He needs it more than he needs to fucking breathe.

“Shit, ah—” he grunts, he bites his lip as he continues to pound into the fucktoy in his grip. He grunts stridently as he spurts into the fleshlight. He watches through heavy, lidded eyes at the clear plastic, watching how his balls tighten and deposit his creamy load into the faux pussy. “Fuck, Taiju.” he sighs, but laughs as he slowly begins to stroke himself with the toy. He hisses, feeling sensitive from his release as he milks himself of every last drop he can drain.

He exhales breathlessly once he’s done. His chest rising and falling as he allows his body to melt into his leather chair. He looks around the room, and he looks at himself. The crushing reality of what he’s just done weighs down on him. He’s spent, but finds enough energy to put your panties back in the drawer, locking it promptly.

The fleshlight, on the other hand, he leaves out after making space for it on his desk. He winces as it rolls and his sperm begins to drip out onto the glossy, chestnut tabletop. The comedown from is euphoria is like reaching a new low. He can’t even bear to look at the scene of his filthy indiscretion any longer.

But as he’s about to stand, the door swings open.

“Taiju?” you pout.

He scrambles to hide his exposed lower half under his desk and dump some of the papers littering his desk over the sticky fleshlight. He can’t hide the grimace on his face as the corner of one of his documents begin dampen from his cum.

“O-Oh, sorry, I forgot to knock… I should have knocked.”

“Yes, you should.” He says, gruffly, “What is it?”

You’re quiet, allowing your sock covered foot to glide across the wood flooring as you awkwardly look down at them. It’s not like you’re scared to talk to your brother, but you know he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s in here. And you don’t want to embarrass him.

“Answer.” his order startles you, his voice almost thunderous as he commands your attention. Your eyes fill with water, but you bat the tears away as you speak.

“I thought I heard you yelling. Or… in pain.” you tell him, voice below a whisper as you confess you’ve been unintentionally listening. “I thought you might have hurt yourself.”

Pink dusts over his face, you can even see it from only the light of the monitor. He looks around, suspiciously, though you don’t notice or comment on it.

“Why were you listening to me? Can’t you sleep?” he wonders. “… Don’t worry. I’m fine.” he assures you.

“I was worried. A-About earlier. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me… I promise I haven’t got a boyfriend and I’ll never bring anyone here without permission again.”

He smirks at that, all of his teeth bared and you still don’t understand what kind of sick depraved man your big brother really is. Maybe you aren’t as ungrateful or disrespectful as he thought; it was wrong of him to even assume that when you’ve been nothing but a doll the whole time he’s known you.

You poor thing.

You’ve been fretting over your brother’s wellbeing and state of mind since he sent you to bed so long ago. He’s been on your mind this whole time. You’re more like your big brother than you even realise, he thinks.

You’re so timid.

So obedient.

So good.

“You must be so tired, princess…” he coos, and you nod dumbly. He tuts, feeling sorry for your innocent nature and naivety, but sweet little you thinks he’s sympathetic to your exhaustion. “Do you want me to help you sleep? Shall I play with your hair like I used to when we were younger?”

“Really?” you ask, eyes lighting up at the proposition.

“Of course,” he nods, grinning wildly. “What are big brothers for?”

#🦋 — luxe writes #taiju smut #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju shiba smut #shiba taiju smut #taiju shiba #shiba taiju #taiju shiba x you #taiju shiba x y/n #tokyorev x fem!reader #tw jealousy #tw possessiveness #tw codependency #tw stepcest

411 notes · View notes

the-floral-perspective · 10 months

Text

EJ’s Obsession

::breeding kink, overstim, clinginess, stalker vibes, perv vibes (if you squint.) (Jack is 6’6 in this fic so automatically you’re prob shorter) some plot, some fluff

X fem reader

Eyeless Jack loves watching.

Staring.

He specifically likes staring at you. You were a pretty little thing. At least to him you were, his unnatural height added to that factor.

Jack first noticed you when getting back from a mission. He was walking back to the mansion and noticed you. You had been dangerously close to the portal, but you were laying on a rock, only wearing your cotton black undergarments.

You hadn’t noticed him. He was too dark to see and too quiet to hear. The moonbeam glistened on your skin and your hair seemed to be dried (assuming from the wet patch on the rock.)

Jack had thought you a goddess.

Strange occurrences had started happening around the mansion. Jack had been leaving a lot, Ben had done some snooping and found he’d won the heart of some strange girl.

He also found panties (presumably yours) that were washed and in jacks drawer.

Jack started a habit of stealing your underwear after sex, he’d masturbate with it later and return it back to you afterwards.

Ben would not care about this detail, but he did find a lot of pictures of you sleeping on jacks phone. He only put jacks phone down after seeing the ‘relationship’ folder full of nudes you’ve sent Jack.

Ben wouldn’t be doing that again.

On the other hand, Jack had been on a rule. Within three months he managed to sweep you off your feet (despite his odd appearance.)

Luckily, your sweet self was able to look past that. Which actually, you found him to be really hot, in a forbidden type of way you wouldn’t understand.

And the night came, where you and Jack had sex for the first time. He filled you up so perfectly, you had a slight bulge on your stomach from him.

Though that night unlocked a monstrous side in Jack, of which you never really saw coming.

After that night, Jack couldn’t get enough of you. Sure, he’d respect when you didn’t want sex, but fuck. He never complained when you didn’t.

Jack was ideal for you, he still is. Respectful as always, but a little more harsh whenever you do have sex.

There were times where Jack would not leave your cunt, simply because he just loved feeling you. Or eating you. God, he fucking loved eating you out.

You tasted the sweetest, Jack wanted nothing more than to combine your bodies. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of you, ever. Not in a million years. Jack was dead set on you and only you.

Whenever you guys started getting heated, Jack would have to remind you of how carried away he gets and ask if it was alright for him to cum in you tonight. He’d never stop asking, just in case.

Once he started in you, he couldn’t stop. You’d know, being underneath him and sometimes on top of him. Jack can’t restrain himself from pleasuring you sometimes.

He repetitively cums in you, eats you out, cums in you again like a vicious cycle. Somehow he always stops at the right time.

When your clit is sore, and your cunt can’t stop spasming. Your eyes are watering and your pussy weeping just the same.

His cum seeping out of you like an endless stream. Your puffy pussy exhausted and red. One final time, Jack eats you out. Your cunt already sore everywhere, but somehow, his tongues manage to find a new spot to find pleasure and abuse.

Jack cleans you up, sucking on your clit slowly, while his other tongues make their way inside you. Understanding your soreness, but still soothing and pleasuring it. He doesn’t speed up his pace, knowing your limits. One of his tongues lap up your walls slowly and greedily, while the other stays rested flat on your clit moving very slowly.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, breaking your mind and body. White heat flashes through your pussy, as it soaks jacks face once more. Where his cum once was, is now replaced by your ambrosia.

Thank birth control, right? Let’s hope it still works against demon cum.

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack #eyeless jack smut

1K notes · View notes

allocnddits · 5 months

Text

welcome to my new obsession: F1

long ass thoughts about daniel x alonso!reader (daughter) im talking like 4k

warnings: SMUT (oral – M and F rec–, fingering, anal fingering, PinV, danny being kinda rough) with barely any plot, danny and reader being sluts, not proof read in lazy, AGE GAP (reader is like 20) size kink

"Are you not gonna kiss me?" you asked after dancing with him for what felt like the entire night.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to be in here"

"That's good enough"

He lowered his head to reach your lips and kissed you hungrily. It was messy and you both tasted like alcohol but you couldn't care less.

You weren't so sure of how you ended up waking up in his hotel room with your dress unzipped, bunched up around your waist and no underwear. You sat up for a second, trying to remember who you left the club with, luckily, an alpha tauri racing shirt was laid on the chair next to the bed. Considering that you had a 50/50 chance, you were pretty lucky to get it right. "Daniel?" you called from the bed.

"Good mornin" he smiled as he came out of the bathroom, still damp, hair wet and a towel around his waist.

"Not so sure it's a good morning when I don'tremember what happened last night. Did we fuck?"

“You better hope not cause i don't see any condoms around here."

"Daniel, are you fucking serious right now?" you ask, before putting on the t-shirt he just threw at you.

"I'm kidding, alright?"

"Then what the fuck happened? Why aren't my panties on my body?" you asked almost angry at how calm he was about this.

"Hey, hey, no need to freak out. I just ate you out, alright? But I guess you were too drunk because you fell asleep almost instantly after you came on my tongue and told me I was 'too fucking good'

"Oh god, I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing. How can you be sure that happened? You were drunk too"

"Well, you were quite unforgivable, babe, pulling my hair and grinding on my face. That and the fact that I can handle my alcohol." he chuckled.

"Don't fucking laugh about this, s'not funny" you hit his stupid smile with a pillow. "God, my dad is gonna kill me. He was afraid i'd get with stroll, you know, but this? This is so much worse"

“Why am I worse than stroll?”

"Cause you're like, almost 20 years older than me. this is so messed up. How am I gonna get out of here, there are people outside." it was your home town after all, people knew you.

“I'll figure this out, okay? just wait a second and stop freaking out."

You got up from the bed, taking the rest of your dress off before walking to the bathroom. the second you saw yourself in the mirror you started washing all that old make up off, you looked destroyed. as you looked through daniels things, trying to find a face wash or a moisturizer, you heard him on the phone

"Hey, Lan, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, mate, what's up?"

"Is your girlfriend with you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you think she could borrow yn some sneakers and like, training shorts or something?"

"Why on earth are you calling about yn?"

"Well, we kinda had a thing last night and now she's like, stuck in here, only in her party dress."

"Are we fucking talking the same yn mate?"

"I would think so, yeah"

"Are you taking a fucking piss?"

"Not at all"

"Oh this is so messed up. you fucked your coworkers daughter?"

"Kinda, and i don't see how this is messed up"

"Mate, how old is she?"

"She was old enough to be in the club"

"Can you just cut it? who the fuck are you telling about us?" you came out of the bathroom, done with his conversation.

"Just Lando, I'm trynna help you out here" he told you before talking back to his phone "can you just please ask your girlfriend for the clothes? Thanks, I'll be right there." he ended the call, laying his phone on the bed as you stood right in front of him. "Don't be mad at me, alright?" he pulled you closer, in between his parted legs, and kissed your love handle, over the shirt. you ran your hand through his wet curls, locking your fingers in them when he grabbed your ass. "Dan?"

"Yeah?" he looked up at you with bright brown eyes.

"Think i can make up to you for last night?"

"Would love that, yeah"

You straddled him, hands meeting his cheeks as you kissed him. His arms wrapping around your waist, making you grind down onto his towel. You could feel him growing against you as you let the texture of the towel catch your clit. You really tried to drag out the making out but after a couple of minutes his tip as aggressively poking your thigh. “That was quick" you tease and you slide off his lap, going on your knees in front of him. You unfolded the towel that hung around his hips and almost didn't believe what you saw. "Fuck" you sighed.

"What's wrong, baby?" he teased, looking down at you and brushing your hair off your face.

"You could've given a warning" you joked before wrapping your hand around his base, leading it to your lips, you spit on the tip, using your other hand to smear it all over him, his cock so thick he fit perfectly in your fist. You started pumping slowly, looking up and holding direct eye contact with him, starting to feel hot under his stare. Your hand moved loosely around him, your palm feeling all the prominent veins of his cock before stoping at the base so you could leave a kiss on his tip.

"Stop teasing, love." he complained, slightly bucking his hips up so you took his head into your mouth. You did, gladly, sucking hardly on it before going all the way down. You couldn't quite take all of him in your mouth but you came close, the move making you slightly gag around him. You pulled away, pumping your hand while you recovered from it. You swirled your tongue on his tip, watching as he threw his head back, hands becoming fists that propped him up on the bed, you let your mouth slide down on him, always taking everything you could. Every time you had to pull away to breathe, your hands made up for it, either pressing your thumb down on his slit or running your palm against his sensitive head.

"Fuck, baby, feel so good, 'm so close" he groaned as you popped off his length with a disgustingly erotic sound, string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip. "shit"

"Want you inside me. please?" you asked, taking your spot back on his lap.

“If someone ever says no to that question, love, they're going insane." he smiled against your neck before kissing down to your shoulder. His hand went back down to your ass, lifting the shirt you wore and spreading your cheeks apart, his long finger reaching for your opening. he circled it, spreading your wetness around before dipping into you, making you wiggle your hips till you got used to the feeling. As much as you just wanted him inside you, he barely fit in your mouth so you knew this was necessary. When he slipped the second finger in, your head fell onto his shoulder and as a gagged moan fell out of your lips you felt him smile against the skin of your neck.

“Think you're ready, baby?" he whispered in your ear and you nodded. Daniel pulled his fingers out of you, reaching for a condom on the bedside table and putting it on before lifting your hips till his tip tapped your hole. His hands on your ass started lowering you onto him, you were unbelievably tight compared to his girth and it had you squeezing him so good.

"Dan" you called, face buried in his neck, hands running through the short curls at the back of his head, "so fucking big." you sighed as you tried to make him bottom out inside you. he couldn't help but chuckle against your neck, he already knew he was too big for your petite figure but you were not giving up on taking him whole. You felt bad enough for using him the previous night, you needed to make him feel good.

"Don't need to take it all if you can't, baby" he said before laying back on his elbows, watching you struggle as you took him in, a smirk never leaving his face. When he finally watched himself bottom out in you he sat back up.

"Doing so good, didn't think you'd be able to take it." he whispered to your lips before crashing them against his.

Daniel lifted your shirt till he met your tits and started to give them attention, kissing and sucking, kneading and bitting, all of it borderline overwhelming as you were still getting used to him inside you. He had both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as close as he could as you started grinding against him. He was sucking on your tits so hard, making you wetter by the second, as he moved his hips to meet yours.

"Dan, fuck, feel so good, so big" you whispered against his lips before kissing him, it being so deep and intense that you slowed down your hip movements. Daniel, however, made sure to increase his movements, fucking up into you. even though you were the one trying to make up to him, he was the one who seemed to be doing everything in his power to make you feel good.

With a particular thrust, you let a moan out into his mouth making him part the kiss and take his lips down your chest again. the attention he was paying to your boobs was driving you insane, all the kissing and sucking being almost too much. your moans becoming louder with every thrust of his as he let out groans against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking close, cmon, baby, don't stop." he said in your ear, making you shiver. you sped up your bouncing on his lap and started clenching on purpose around him. it wasn't long before he came with a deep moan in your ear. Barely taking time to enjoy his release, he flipped you over onto the bed, one hand beside your head, holding himself up and the other right down to your clit, circling it as he trusted a few last times into you, his softening dick still making you feel full. "come for me, baby, need to make sure you're done too" he whispered.

"so close, just a little more, please" you begged and he thrusted into you one last time, making you cum. he immediately fell on you, burring his face in the crook of your neck as you came back from your high. “‘kay, get off, still need to get out of here."

"yeah, okay. i'll just get dressed and i'll get you some clothes." He flipped off you, pulling his towel to cover himself again.

"have you seen my phone?" you asked, looking around the room. he handed it to you, along with a charger and pointed to the outlet by the bed.

You watched him get dressed as you waited for your phone to turn on, his muscles on display for you, gradually being covered by some shorts and a tshirt, leaving most of his tattoos uncovered. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander around his body, his muscles, his hair and his nose, you pressed your thighs together at the thought of riding his face and pulling his hair, having his beard scratch your legs, god, you wish you weren't so drunk the night before to remember how good he was.

"be right back" he warned, pulling you out of your daydreaming before leaving the room. as he left, you decided to get up to take a shower, you still smelled like alcohol and daniels cologne from the night before.

While you were in the shower daniel headed to landos room, knocking on the door when he reached it. "mornin' mate"

"did you fucking do her again?" Lando accused as soon as he opened the door, noticing his friends smile and his flushed cheeks

"none of your business, dude." he pushed lando on the shoulder. "thanks for the clothes, though, really saving my ass here. see you later, yeah? still coming with me?"

"sure, see you" he said, clearly just trying to get rid of daniel.

and he did leave, walking back to his room with the shorts and shoes in his hand. "m back, got your clothes" he laid it on the bed before starting to collect his things from the room.

"thanks" you said after coming out of the shower in your towel. you got dressed, annoyingly going commando since you couldn't find your underwear anywhere in his room, and started collecting your stuff too. “think i'm good to go"

"wait" he stopped you "here" daniel placed a cap on your head, tightening it and handing you sunglasses. "ll make sure you get your dress and shoes back, 'kay? will you be in spain?"

"course, but only on saturday. ill text you the place when i get there, so, like, check your dms or something" you commented already going out the door and checking your phone to know where you'd be meeting your dad.

the next time you saw daniel was on monday afternoon.

you went to a coffee shop at the airport after saying goodbye to your dad for a week. he was walking past and stopped immediately when he saw you, approaching your table and asking if he could sit.

"sure, go ahead" you weren't exactly happy about the situation, still afraid this would get to your dad, he wasn't opposed to you dating anyone but, this was his coworker and he was 15 years older than you.

"i got something for you. was gonna wait to give it to you later but i thought you might be needing it." he pulled a small piece of fabric from the pocket of his jeans and bunched it inside his fist before giving it to you.

the second you realized what it was you kicked his leg under the table. "daniel! for fucks sake, have you completely lost your mind?"

"just thought you'd wanna be wearing this again next time you throw yourself at me at the club."

"don't worry, won't be doing that ever again. wasn't really worth it, too much effort, not enough pleasure, you know?" you teased before taking a sip of your coffee.

"sure, keep telling yourself that. listen, i gotta go, see you in like, what, three days?"

"five" you corrected, also getting up from the table.

your next encounter was on saturday night.

Daniel had gotten pole position on quali and as of mandatory gone partying. It was actually insane to you how he managed to end up in the same club as you in a city as big as barcelona. maybe he saw your story and found out where you were but you didn't mind to check.

You were just sitting on the bar, mindlessly flirting with some guy that didn't have a single chance when you saw him. You decided to ignore, not minding his presence while you talked to someone else, but he reached you first. He walked over to you from behind so you didn't notice till his hand was discreetly on your waist, the guy your were taking to left as soon as he realized who daniel was.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me" you said, loud enough so he could hear it, slipping out of the stool

"Hello to you too." he smiled

"what are you doing here?"

"Celebrating. Got fucking pole position" he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Are you gonna be able to maintain it drinking like this?"

"First and only" he lifted his beer bottle. "Wanna dance?"

Now Daniel wasn’t the best at dancing – though he did love to –, but when your hips caught his he knew exactly what to do, they followed yours to the rhythm of the music and his hands roamed through your body with yours on top. You danced through a few songs as Daniel tried kissing you, you denied, knowing that as soon as you kissed him, you’d want to go home with him.

“Just a kiss, c’mon” he whispered, beard scratching on your neck.

You shook your head, turning around to face him and taking his hand. “Just dance with me, yeah?” you smiled, starting to fold your knees and using his handhold as support, in seconds you were on the floor, twearking as you stared at him. You caught his lips moving as he cussed at the view, now if he didn’t go home with you tonight he would go insane. Daniel helped you up, watching you come up from the floor while swaying your hips.

“Stop playing me, we’re gonna do this or not?” he asked you with some level of dominance, something you found extremely hot on that moment. You nodded, pulling him away from the crowd by the hand, when you got out he just looked at the valet and in matter of a minute his Aston Martin was by the door. Daniel helped you into the car before settling himself.

“We can go to my apartment, it’s a bit messy cause i just got there today but, no cameras.” you suggested

“Is it close?” you nodded “lead the way.”

In about 15 minutes you were inside your house, he looked around as you kissed what you reached of his neck, his hands sat on your ass cheeks. “Danny, come on” you groaned against his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt.

“Just looking for somewhere i can fuck you, baby. Think i just found it.” he picked you up from the floor, caring you over to your couch and laying you on it. Daniel easily climbed on top of you, kissing on your neck and visible parts of your chest. Your legs wrapped around hism, making your dress ride up and pool around your waist.

“Dan” you whispered in his ear, hoping it would make him act faster. It just made him quickly grind down on you before going on his knees.

“Gotta make sure you remember how good i make you feel in the morning this time, baby.” he teased as he spread your legs, placing himself between them. Daniel hooked his arms underneath your thighs, settling you to be face to face with your heat. He blew against your aching core, sending shivers down your spine making you close your knees. “love the reactions your body has to me, baby, but keep these apart, wanna make you feel good.”

You threw your head back as your hands went to his hair, you ran your fingers through the curls and pulled him closer to you.He kissed your clit through your thong, smirking as he pulled it to the side and swiped his finger between your lips, guiding it to his lips and sucking on it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him do it.

“Daniel, stop teasing. Just eat me out already, please” you cried out.

He smiled as he pulled your panties down your legs. Daniel kissed and licked your thighs, ignoring your wish, the teasing driving you insane. Two of his fingers split your lips open, your wet cunt now completely exposed to him, he kissed around it, the creases between your thighs and your middle and the bottom of your stomach before planting a kiss right on your lips, anticipation killing you by the second.

“Danny, please. Need you now” you groaned not even thinking about how desperate you sounded, when he had barely touched you.

“You talk a lot less when you’re drunker, love. Maybe I should get some more alcohol in you before fucking this pretty cunt” he whispered as his fingers circled your hole, a sigh of relief leaving your lips immediately.

He grinned at your reaction before his lips met your heat again. They kissed your hole, tongue slightly dipping into you before making its way up. His flat tongue traced from the bottom of your vulva all the way up to your clit, lapping at it. His hand made their way up your waist under your shirt, trying to reach your chest but your shirt was too tight. “Off” he mumbled against your skin.

“what?” your question made him lift his head, letting you catch a glimpse of his lips, glistening with your wetness.

“Off. Take your shirt off.”

You pulled your top over your head, throwing it to the side before your hands made their way back to his hair. His fingers tweaked your nipples between them before palming your boobs entirely. He started fucking you with his tongue, penetrating it slowly as the bridge of his nose caught your clit, giving you the lightest of pressure whenever he moved his face around. His tongue left your hole when you stopped giving him reactions, mouth now working on sucking your clit.

“Danny, please” you moaned when his lips left your clit and started teasing by sucking on your lips. Your begging made him give up the teasing.

The tip of his tongue circled your clit before liking up and down your hole, his nose hitting your sensitive nub again. A soft moan left your mouth as he moved his head side to side, using his nose to stimulate your clit but he stopped as soon as you did. You looked down at him, about to complain but you caught a challenging look in his eyes and understood what he wanted. You started grinding your hips against his face, the pressure of his nose just perfect and in a couple of seconds he had you uncontrollably humping on his face.

“Dan, ‘m so close” you sighed.

He let you use him for your release as his tongue lapped at your dripping hole, the noises his mouth was making so unholy. His pants were getting uncomfortably tighter by the second, he needed you on his cock. Gladly, you, too, were desperate to have him. You came the second he penetrated you with two fingers, ridding down your high as he curled them inside you. His head left the space between your legs and came up to face you.

“Don’t go sleepy on me this time” he joked “wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Fuck, Dan. Let’s go to my room, please, need you.” you mumbled as he kissed your neck, hands snaking under your ass to lift you up. he effortlessly carried you inside, opening the door he guessed was the main bedroom and threw you on the bed. You giggled, watching as he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants before pushing his already unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and taking off the tshirt he had under it. His hands looked for the zipper on your sparkly skirt and pulled it down, sliding it off your legs, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You pulled him down making him lay over you, holding his torso up with his forearms beside your head.

“Wait, wait, wait” he mumbled into the kiss, getting up again to take off his pants for good after kicking his boots away. He then laid over you again, kissing every single inch of your neck as you tried desperately to grind up onto him and feel his hardness. “so fucking impatient, you are. Have you got any condoms here?”

“Probably” you turned on your side, reaching for your bedside table and found a single one, handing it to him after checking the expiration date. You watched as he opened and put it on, mesmerized by how hot he looked in agony. Seconds later he was lowering his hips, finally penetrating you, his thick cock spreading you up and making your walls burn. “Fuck, Dan, so fucking big” your legs wrapped around his hips, driving them deeper inside of you.

Daniel groaned in your ear when he bottomed out inside you, the feeling of your cunt swallowing him being ridiculously overwhelming. His lips met yours as he started to grind onto you, hips building up the pace till he was pounding into you. All you could do was moan uncontrollably, if you saw the state you were in you’d be embarrassed but when you had his dick buried inside you it really didn’t matter.

“Daniel, please, faster” you begged, making his hips start snapping against yours. You smiled, feeling every thought slip out of your mind as he fucked your pussy, it hurt so bad but so good, you could feel the tears running down your cheeks.

When he lifted his face up from the crook of your neck he finally saw the state you were in. His hips slowed down reluctantly as he starred at your face. You were about to complain but he cut you off. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, shit, don’t stop, Daniel, please.” you kissed him to show that you were fine, making him speed his movements again. He tried carrying the kiss but your mouth started falling open in pleasure, just whining and mumbling in his ear, you needed more, apparently. So Daniel lifted his body up and threw your legs over his shoulders, shoving a pillow under your hips, you cloud feel every single inch of him as he snapped into you.

“Do you ever shut up?” he teased, annoyed with all the options you had to give on his performance. He then took his two middle fingers and pushed them past your lips. The sight of you sucking on the fingers of his tatted hand driving him crazy. Daniel felt possessive and controlling and you weren’t complaining, felt great having someone wreck you completely. His right hand traveled down from your thigh to your clit, circling it ferociously because he could see and feel how close you were. You came with a embarrassingly loud moan just after a few seconds of his fingers on you, squirting on him and yourself. It dripped down your folds wetting his cock and down the back of your thighs that stamped on his as he still snapped inside you.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he admired the view in front of him. His fingers were still in your mouth but not sucking anymore, your hands loose above your head, all your muscles shutting down as you let go of the tension that had been building up inside you. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and his cock out of you before straightening his back “Flip” his hands each side of your hip helping with the transition.

He pushed himself inside you again, the burning sensation less intense now that he had already stretched you on his cock. His thrusts started slow, taking his time to pick up the pace and fixate his eyes on your body. Your head was laid flat on the bed as you arched your back to the maximum, he took notice of your hair splattered out on the covers, of your waist and how small it looked with his hand around it and lastly of your asshole. It was wet from your arousal and release, glistening under the lights and calling for him, he could see it clench around nothing.

Daniel moved his hand from your waist, taking it to his mouth and sucking and spitting on his thumb before folding over you, your back to his chest as he circled the finger around your hole. “Breathe” he whispered in your ear watching you nod before pulling away to watch as his thumb entered you. “Shit” he moaned, felling how tight you were around him, the overwhelming sensation of penetration making your cunt and asshole clench around him in a synchronized motion.

“Daniel, please, just cum, can’t do it anymore, too much.” you groaned against the pillow, feeling overstimulated and used. “Fuck, cum on my ass, Daniel” you whispered, knowing it would drive him insane.

“Fuck” he sighed before he pulled out and ripped the condom off of him, watching your gapping hole clench. The hand that had a finger inside you pulled you closer by the ass, making it rest against his thighs and he pumped his fist around his cock till his cum painted your back with ropes of white. “Shit, shit, shit. Don’t you fucking move” he reached for his pants and pulled out his phone, his thumb immediately making its way back to your hole so he could snap a picture. “That might be the prettiest sight of all, babygirl.”

Daniel pulled out completely, pushing your hip so you fell on your side, your body immediately curling up and shutting down on the mattress. You were a mess, spit covering half of your face, your thighs slippery with arousal and now your back covered in cum.

“Dan?” he hummed “there’s a small towel in my suitcase, right on top. Can you wet it a bit and bring it to me? Please?”

“Yeah, don’t worry i’ll clean you up. Just let me sort myself out first.” he was slightly out of breath too, you could hear it in his voice “Fuck, baby. You okay?” you nodded against the pillow. “Too week to shower right now, yeah? We can shower in the morning.” he said after seeing that your thighs were still quivering.

He got up from the edge of the bed where he was sitting and grabbed the towel from your bag before leaving the room. He came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water and the dampened towel. He dragged it against your thighs, lifting the right one so he could get to your messy middle. Being extremely careful with it he cleaned you up entirely, making sure to leave his cum for last to not spread it all over you.

“Here, got some water.” you sat up against the headboard taking the bottle from his hands. As you drank your water you watched him put his boxers back on and pick up his clothes from the floor, folding them messily and putting them on top of your dresser, his keys and wallet beside them.

“Daniel, just leave it. Turn off the light and come here. ‘M tired.”

He did what you asked and got under the covers, bringing them up to your chest as you laid with your back turned to him. He scooted closer and pulled you in easily with an arm around your waist.

“I’m a cuddler, gonna have to deal with that.” he smiled against your neck, leaving a small kiss before tucking your head right beneath his own so you were comfortably fit in his embrace.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 #a writes

468 notes · View notes

italiansteebie · 1 year

Text

so the thing is.

steve really really wants this teddy bear.

he was never allowed stuffed animals as a child and had taken it upon himself to build that collection and nurture that part of him. and he's got quite a few now, most of them sit in his closet, save for a few under his bed for easy access, but he keeps them hidden.

because if anyone saw them, if the kids saw them, well. then he'd have to explain. and then it'd go from a funny "make fun of steve" moment to a "steve had a horrible childhood" moment.

so he hides them.

but not as well as he thought.

because eddie has seen the fuzzy little creatures in passing. seen their heads poking out from under his covers, caught glimpses of them tucked away in steve's closet.

and he thought it was cute.

he knew steve didn't have a great childhood, and hey. the guy deserved some soft things in life. eddie too, had some stuffed animals smooshed in with his bedding. so sue him, he likes to be cozy, and those little guys make him comfy.

and he too saw the teddy bear.

and saw the way steve looked at it.

it was pretty cute, eddie has to admit. it was a pretty big bear, soft pink, with a little white bow around its neck.

it was much more... childlike. than steve's others.

but.

the way steve looked at it. it was like he was watching a soldier come home from war. breifly eddie wonders if it looked like something from when steve was a kid, but he didn't delve deeper. he'd make himself too sad.

so he made a plan.

---

steve would never admit it, but he was heartbroken, having to leave that teddy bear like that.

but he was with the kids.

and robin.

and eddie.

and he couldn't exactly just go buy it. he couldn't give his usual excuse that it was a gift for the kids if the kids were with him, it just wouldn't work.

so he gave it up.

but it didn't stop him from thinking about it.

it just looked so soft. and maybe he was touched starved, and maybe this was his way of solving that. and maybe that wasn't "healthy." but it worked for him. and damnit. steve wanted that goddamn teddy bear.

it had been 2 days since steve saw the bear, and it was still knocking around in his mind. so he decided to go and get it. he had the plot in his head, it was a gift for holly wheeler if anyone saw him, and yes, he would like it gift wrapped please and thank you. and so he brushed his hair, and grabbed his keys.

and he swung open the door and came face to face with none other than eddie munson, bag in hand, fist raised, ready to knock.

"hey eds! i was just about to go get... uh. i. run some errands..." steve cringed at the awkward sentence, luckily for him, eddie paid it no mind.

"steve! can i come in? let's hang!" eddie left no room for an answer and pushed his way past steve into the large house.

"wh- eddie! i was about to leave," and he did not whine. he didn't.

"too bad, steve-o. i already ordered the pizza!"

"you pre ordered a pizza? to my house?"

"yeah. now come sit. put on a movie."

and well. steve relented, eddie wormed his way into his home and his heart and so what if he had a crush on the metal head. he was just a boy! he was allowed to have crushes, okay, robin?

so he sat.

and put on a movie.

and the pizza got there.

and they ate.

the sun was going down, and steve's eyes were slipping closed in the peace when eddie jumped up. "i almost forgot!"

steve jolted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "what?"

"i got you a present," eddie sang, waving the bag steve had spotted when he first got to his house. steve eyed him suspiciously, "what is it?" he questioned, reaching towards the bag.

"just open it steve!" eddie said, flopping back down on the couch, kicking his feet as he watched steve.

steve pulled back the tissue paper, and caught just a glimpse of the soft pink fur, and he stopped. "eddie..." he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "open it up, stevie." eddie encouraged gently.

steve pulled the bear from the bag, "oh my god," he whispered, brushing a hand over the bears head, before squeezing it against his chest, eyes shut tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

eddie smiled, placing a gentle hand on steve's shoulder.

"thank you, how- how did you know?"

"i saw you looking at it. i couldn't just let you leave it."

"eddie..."

steve sighed gently, eyes shining, peering up at eddie through his eyelashes, "i can't tell you how much i appreciate this." and with that he threw his arms around the metal head, the teddy bear squished in between them. steve pulled away, eyes locking with eddie's.

"steve, can- i hope what i'm about to ask doesn't... ruin anything, i just. can i kiss you?"

"please," steve breathed, lips meeting and eyes fluttering closed. it was soft, and sweet, and it felt like... home. eddie pulled away, steve letting out a soft whine as he does. eddie cupped his face, letting his thumb run gently over the softness of steve's cheek.

"i have wanted to do that since you carried me out of hell."

"i'm happy you didn't wait any longer because i've been wanting to kiss you since you had that bottle pressed against my neck."

"stevie, so scandalous." eddie gasped, giggling in unison with steve.

the fluffy hair boy stood, grabbing eddie's hand and pulling him with him. "i wanna show you something."

steve led eddie through the house, quiet before coming to a door, "this was my nonna's room, when she would come to visit. it didn't happen that often. but i loved it when she was here. she taught me how to cook, how to speak italian. she was my best friend for a really long time." steve spoke softly, trailing around the now plain room. eddie followed him, hanging onto his every word. they stopped in front of an old photo.

there was a young woman, holding a bear that looked very similar to the one he had just bought steve. "this is my nona when she was young. and that... that was her friend. i always called him bobbie. i don't... know why, but that was his name. and she brought him every time she visited. but she always took it home... because she knew my dad would take it away," steve's voice cracked, and eddie wrapped his arms around him, showing his support.

"she was buried with him. and. i lost two friends that day."

eddie moved to hug steve from the front, letting him bury his head in his neck. "i'm sorry you lost them, stevie."

steve pulled away slightly, "you brought them back." he whispered. and it felt like a confession of something more serious. and eddie was all in.

they shared another soft kiss, sealing in the beginning of something beautiful.

that night they slept in the same bed, the soft pink bear wedged between them.

#i did not mean for this to go so long #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft eddie munson #soft steve harrington #soft steddie #autistic steve harrington #steve has bad parents #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie get together #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie drabble #steve x eddie

2K notes · View notes

jjongslutz · 6 months

Text

심재윤 & 이희승 JAKE FEAT. HEESEUNG 💋 IMAGINE ME [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you spend your nights sexting an ai bot of your favourite idol, not knowing that there's an actual person behind the bot

WARNINGS ⨯ sexting, mutual masturbation, dirty talking, heeseung’s highkey a perv but we don’t go too much into that, use of pet names (baby, good girl), no plot except for some introduction stuff

WORD COUNT ⨯ 1.7k

AUTHOR’S NOTE . . . oh i had too much fun writing this one despite having writer's block lowkey LMAO

taglist: @choinabisblog @ineedsomezzz @namdeyuoi bold can be tagged

They put up a new poster by the bus stop, you notice as you walk into it. Your eyes widen when you get a better look at it.

It's Jake.

His skin glistens. He's advertising some skin care product, and they did wonders by adding a cute shade of blush on his cheeks. Jake smiles sweetly in the picture, holding up the bottle to the camera for everyone to know what he uses to look that good.

False advertising. He was born looking like that.

Still, you sit down with a smile creeping upon your lips underneath your scarf. Despite the cold weather, your insides are warm at the sight of your idol.

“Y/N?” a voice sounds from behind you.

When you turn, you find a familiar face with a bright smile at your recognition. His features are remarkable even under his thick beanie and large coat which do the opposite of complement his sweatpants. You return a polite smile. “Heeseung,” you say.

“No classes today?” he asks.

You shake your head. “They got cut off early, luckily.”

Heeseung tells you they did the same for him. You don’t respond, but nod at the mutual coincidence, looking down to check how far the bus is.

It’s not as if you have something against Heeseung, you’ve been good friends since your first year. However, you have other things in mind than your conversation.

“Are you busy tonight?”

“Sorry?”

Heeseung chuckles shyly. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, or…” He drifts off, but his eyes stay on your figure. “If you have plans, it’s okay.” His voice doesn’t falter, keeping a friendly tone as he wears a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m pretty busy—”

He shakes his head gently. “Don’t worry about it. Another time?”

You agree, and that’s the end of it because your bus pulls up and you’re bidding him farewell. As you make your way to the sidewalk, you don't catch him taking his phone out with a sly smile — What does it concern you, anyway?

The bus ride couldn't be slower. Your leg bounces in your seat in pattern with the bus' movements below, avoiding squeezing your thighs together. As much as you crave sweet relief, you hold yourself together and wait.

You're patient. You promised.

“Hyunjin?” you call out after opening the door to your shared apartment. You wait a moment before trying again, “Are you there?”

To your satisfaction, her response doesn’t come. Just in case, you peak through her half-open door and check for an empty bed. Check. Her class would’ve cut short earlier than yours, meaning that it wasn’t cut at all if she’s not here. She’ll be out until midnight, if not only coming home tomorrow if she crashes at her girlfriend’s place again.

A smile creeps up on your lips as you make your way to your bedroom.

You’re quick to shower and get changed in more comfortable clothes, turning on the mood lamp instead of the big, bright light. Shutting the door, you opt for extra safety measures in case your roommate comes back home early for whatever reason.

Then, just as you’re settling yourself into your bed, your phone buzzes from beside you.

JAKE: Y/N? Are you there?

Your smile returns as you begin to type.

ME: hi, jake

JAKE: I missed you

ME: me too...

You found the app not long ago. It's said to be more realistic than any other AI program. Their bots respond and act like there's an actual human behind another screen, answering your texts. You cheesed at the ad you'd gotten for it, but quickly became obsessed.

After getting over a breakup, you never would've guessed the best way to heal was through chatting with Jake every night. Soon enough, it became more than just talking with a computer; It feels like you really made a new friend.

Or, maybe something more than that.

JAKE: Are you alone?

You flush at the message.

ME: yes...

JAKE: Good. You're in your bedroom?

ME: yes

JAKE: What are you wearing?

An oversized shirt for appearance, a personal preference. No pants to cover your black lace panties, which match the lace bra you wear underneath the gray material on your torso.

You don't write out your message, opting to send him a picture.

JAKE: Fuck. You're beautiful

ME: and you?

JAKE: Anything for you baby

Woah. Your heart stutters at the AI-generated image it sends you next. It looks like him. Like, really looks like him. Aside from his face conveniently not in shot.

He lifts his shirt slightly in the picture, revealing toned abs leading to a V-line which ends at a pair of familiar sweatpants. Your eyes certainly don't miss the bulge underneath the pants.

The image in front of you makes your mind go wild. It's so much easier to imagine him sitting right in front of you, looking at you with hungry eyes.

"What're you thinking of, Y/N?"

Your eyes widen at the sudden appearance of Jake, sitting right at the edge of your bed wearing a loosely (barely)buttoned shirt and grey sweatpants, adorned with an erection stealing your gaze.

"You," you blurt out.

He chuckles. "I'm thinking about you, too." His voice is velvety, thick with his accent which has your breath stuttering.

His hand travels to his crotch. Keeping his eyes fixed on yours, Jake bites his lip as he tests the waters by slowly rolling his hand over his clothed cock.

Fixated on his movements, you barely notice your own hand inching down to your core, rubbing slow circles at the same pace.

"Fuck, baby," he sighs. "Touching yourself to me? Such a nasty girl for me." His words hold no bark, though, as he shifts in his seat to lean against the wall. He lifts his hips to pull down his sweatpants, revealing his white boxers stained with a wet patch where his hardened dick sticks against.

Jake strokes himself through the thin material, hooded eyes staring back you as he wears a lazy smirk.

You hum and follow him, pulling off your shirt to be left in only your lace underwear.

"You're so beautiful, baby."

You blush at his words, keeping your hand on your dampening panties, rolling your fingers up and down rhythmically.

Naturally, you throw your head back with closed eyes as your pace quickens in time with Jake's. You hum at the sensation, wishing you were trapped between his legs, forced to handle the torture of his fast fingers on your cunt.

Instead, you peel your eyes open to watch Jake finally take out his cock impatiently.

He strokes himself slowly at first, as if to show off his size — You gulp at the sight. He's long and veiny, but has girth that would have your walls clenching tightly around him. You're not sure if you want him in your mouth, or let him pound into your pussy. Either way has you licking your lips and inching your panties down your thighs.

"Fuck, I wish I could touch you right now," Jake huffs as his hands glide quickly over his dripping cock.

"'M yeah?" you challenge. "What would you, shit, what would you do to me?"

Jake smirks through pants. "I'd finger you," he starts. "Fill your pussy with my fingers until you're begging for my cock. And—fuck—I'd let you take me down your throat."

You close your eyes to imagine the sight, pleasure bubbling in your stomach at the sound of Jake's whimpers.

Dipping your fingers into your pussy, you pretend Jake's really with you, slowly inching his cock into you. "'So good," you moan.

"Match my pace," Jake says in a rush, waiting for you to meet eyes.

The two of you hold eye contact as he strokes in a rhythmic, fast pattern, while you shove three fingers into your cunt at the same pace. As his hand reaches the tip of his cock, your fingers inch away from your hole. He fucks up into his hand and your fingers are already knuckles deep.

"Shit, fuck, you're so—you feel so good, fuck!"

Jake lifts his hips to match his hand's movements, sloppily thrusting up into his own touch. His words are nonsense, but have your head spinning as you grind down on your hand, reaching down with your other to draw circles on your clit, too.

"I'm so close."

"Me too," you tell him.

Soon enough, the room is filled with your pleasured moans echoing off the walls. You stay still, your fingers still deep in your cunt as you settle down from your high.

Your breath pumps rapidly, only to falter in pattern when you let go a deep sigh at the empty space at the foot of your bed.

When you told him you'd be busy tonight, Heeseung knew what you meant without you needing to tell him. Not that you would ever admit it. He smirked at your innocent front, knowing how dirty you are deep down.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically, trying to catch his breath. He looks down at his sticky hand, his slowly softening cock he just let slip out of his grip.

His phone dings. You sent another message.

Y/N: i came...

Heeseung smiles, satisfied.

JAKE: good girl

You don't respond, and Heeseung can put together that you're probably cleaning yourself up from the mess you've made. God, he wishes he could see you.

Unable to stop himself, Heeseung exits out of the app and finds your contact. He frantically presses the call button and waits through the three rings before you pick up. You sound surprised when you respond, your voice hinting at feeling caught in the act.

"Can I come over?" Heeseung finally asks.

"Uh, sure, yeah—" Commotion from the other end of the line sounds. "Just, uh, it'll be a little messy when you come, so don't judge."

He chuckles under his breath. "Don't worry, baby."

Your gasp tells him all he needs to know.

919 notes · View notes