#also thanks about my wings au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 5 months

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"You wake up in Jungkook's bed after a passionate night together."

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, domestic Fluff, hinted Smut

Warnings: casual nudity, Kookie shows off his muscles, he is a giggly cutie who just wants to be praised, they talk about last night's sex, she kisses his abs, he is so in love with her :(

Wordcount: 2k

a/n: i wanna give him the world. he is my babyboy :( also, i don't gotta mention by which live this was inspired. y'all KNOW fjadjfa. enjoy besties, i fucking love him 🤍

Something is tickling your face. Gently. Nicely. Warm. It feels warm. Fingers. You can make out the paths they draw. Over your forehead, tracing your brows, down your temples, along your cheeks and up your nose until the faintest touch feels up your closed eyelids.

You know where you are. Jungkook’s wing. You stayed with him after the two of you went on a lovely movie date in town, followed by karaoke in his living room till late into the night.

You had sex too. It was good sex. Amazing sex even. He made you see not only stars, but the entire galaxy. And in return you made him arch his back and whimper your name. It was amazing. It really, really was.

You still feel the afterglow of it. It became stronger again now that you are awake and actively take him in.

His soft scent lingers on the sheets and the warmth of his touch feels heavenly. You can’t stop your lips from curling into a sleepy smile. Quite frankly, you didn’t even try to stop them. Perhaps you even encouraged them to do so.

“Mhm good morning. That feels amazing”, you mumble.

“Good morning, my honey”, he answers you and cups your cheek to run his thumb along the tender skin under your eye. Once. Twice.

Then you open your eyes to look at him.

His face scrunches up into a giddy smile instantly. It starts off with his eyes before the rest of his face follows. You love the way he smiles. It is so precious and adorable that he always starts off with his eyes before anything else shows his happiness. It fits him so well.

You retort his smile, feeling it grow when he scoots closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I’ve been awake for a little and I tried not to touch you, but you’re so pretty when you sleep”, he says, making your heart flutter.

He scoots back again and touches your ear to massage it softly.

“You didn’t wake me”, you assure him, tingling at the touch.

“That’s good to hear. I hope you don’t mind that I looked at you”, he says and giggles, “I’m sorry, I just think that you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t mind”, you say and reach out to caress his naked chest, “you’re so cute, my honey.”

“Thank you, yeah”, he says and giggles. He is so cute when he is so happy. You hope that he never stops giggling. He shimmies back just enough that you can look at him comfortably. He gathers a bundle of his blanket and uses it to rest his chin on it. Like this, you have perfect view of his sculpted arms and tattoos. He didn’t bother to put on clothes last night and neither did you. He kept snuggling up to you throughout the night and whenever you noticed it, you felt yourself tingle. His skin felt like paradise against yours. It really did.

His eyes gaze at you with sparkles in them.

“How did you sleep?” he asks.

“Really well. Your bed’s so comfy.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear”, he says and giggles once again.

“And you?”

“I slept well too, yeah. I dreamed of you.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm. I dreamed of last night. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about it”, he giggles again, giving you the prettiest eye smile ever, “I think we had a really amazing date. I loved it a lot.”

“I loved it too”, you answer him and touch his arm to squeeze it lovingly, “you’re so cute.”

“Heh”, he lets out and blushes, “and I think that the sex was amazing”, he sounds shy all of a sudden, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile and agree with a nod of your head, “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”

“Do your knees still hurt?” he makes sure. You finished him off by riding him and you went at it with such passion that your knees ached afterwards.

“No, they don’t. I told you, they were just tired.”

“You did it so hard”, he says and giggles with his nose scrunching up. He snuggles the blanket, even going so far as to rub his cheek against it, “I couldn’t stop moaning.”

“I couldn’t tell at all”, you joke and snicker.

He snickers as well, nodding his head, “I know, I was so loud. I can’t help it because you’re so, so good.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m the same when you touch me.”

“Yeah, I know”, he says, glancing down at your body just once, “you sounded really sexy. I think.”

“Thank you, baby. You sounded really sexy too.”

“Yeah, I liked it”, he says, “I’ve been able to make love to you without danger for such a long time already, but I still feel so excited by it. So it always feels epic and, and”, he stops himself, glancing at you shyly, “I hope I’m not annoying you with this already.”

“Kookie, come on”, you say sternly and nudge his chest, “don’t you dare say that. I feel as excited as you do, sweets. You deserve to feel this way.”

“Thank you. It means a lot that you share those feelings with me.”

“Of course, baby. I mean it.”

He smiles and reaches out to touch your face. Your cheek, your brow and temple until he ends it with a soft brush over your lips. And as he makes sure that your face is actually as beautiful as he thinks it is, his sparkly eyes race over your features without wanting to stop. They finally land on your lips and the way they look so pretty in the morning lights.

“I uhm”, he begins and lets out a shy giggle, meeting your gaze. You retort the chuckle, caressing the inside of his wrist.

“Mhm?”

“I think you’re beautiful”, he says, making your heart flutter.

“Thank you so much”, you whisper giddily, “you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you”, he says and sits up just a little, “hey ___? I was thinking”, he begins.

“What were you thinking?” you ask him, expecting the most profound revelation ever.

“My arms look really strong today. What do you think?” he says, showing off by flexing his arm. His muscles tense and bulge, capturing your attention.

You stifle a snicker. You did not expect for the conversation to go this way. He is such a wonderful person.

“Look at this”, he points at the most sculpted parts, “can you see the lines there and, and how big it looks there?”

“I can”, you tell him, melting in fondness. He is so adorable when he shows off because you know for a fact that he believes that this is the most impressive thing he could do. Not being loving and gentle, neither being the best listener and sweetest person ever. No, in his eyes showing off his muscles is the most impressive thing about him. Which, don’t misunderstand, is very impressive, but it is still very adorable as well because of how randomly he decided to do it.

“Can you see how strong I am?” he asks, flexing even harder.

“I can”, you reach out and touch his arm. It is rockhard, “wow, Kookie your muscles are so hard.”

“Right? It’s because I’m so strong”, he says.

“Mhm, of course you are. You’re such a strong man, this is so impressive”, you praise him, squeezing his arm gently, “wow, so strong.”

“Yeah, right?” he agrees and then sticks his head under the blanket for a second. You watch him with fondness bubbling in your tummy, “and check this out”, he says, reappearing again and tugging the blanket down his torso just enough that the first hint of his pubes gets revealed. He is resting on his back, propped up on his elbow and with his abs flexed. He runs his fingers down the lines of them, “look.”

You roll to your tummy and prop yourself up on your elbows. Like this, you could easily rest your chin on his stomach if you wanted to.

“Wow Kookie, your abs looks so strong”, you gasp.

“Right? It’s because I used them so much last night”, he says, making your chest flutter. He wasn’t lying. He did use them a lot as he was making you see galaxies.

“Mhm of course you did”, you say, “can I touch?”

“Of course.”

You reach out and trace his muscles with your fingertips. Jungkook watches you with his breathing just a little quickened. Goosebumps cover his skin wherever you touch. You finish your explorations by shimmying closer and draping your arm over his lap just so you can lower your lips to his stomach and kiss it.

Jungkook gasps when that happens, shivering like crazy. You nuzzle your nose into his faint happy trail and inhale his scent. He smells like warm nights, good sex and clean skin. It’s addictive, really, and for just a short moment you play with the desire to lick him until he shivers.

You lift your head, meeting his droopy gaze.

“My strong man”, you say, flashing him a loving grin.

Jungkook breaks into a fit of happy giggles, picking you up in his strong arms to hug you against his chest.

“Thank you ___, I’m your strong man”, he says, wiggling you from side to side.

“Yes you are”, you tell him, snaking your arm around his waist, “I feel very safe in your arms.”

“Wow really?” he gasps and giggles, “wow, thank you. This means so much to me.”

He lies down with you in his arms, which results in your finding your new resting spot sprawled halfway on top of him and with your face buried in the crook of his neck. You grunt at the impact, before a fond chuckle shakes your shoulders.

“Careful”, you tell him.

“I’m sorry”, he slips his arms from you, “did I hurt you?”

“No, you just surprised me. That’s all”, you say, climbing on top of him and sitting down on his lap. Just below his dick and with your hands feeling up his pecs. Like this, the blanket covers you until your hips while the rest of your body was exposed to the cool air. Goosebumps cover your skin instantly, but Jungkook touches don’t allow your body to feel cold. He runs his hands all over your body, leaving out the most intimate spots for respect reasons and massaging the parts which he thinks are so incredibly soft.

“My strong man, mhm?” you say.

He nods his head vigorously, pressing out a shaky, “yeah.” He is just so excited to be with you and to be your strong man! He is your man! That’s awesome!

You run your hands to his shoulders before placing them in the pillow beside his head. Like this, you can look down at his pretty face while Jungkook feels up your back and the beginning of your buttocks.

“Should we check out this café we passed last night?”

You drove by a café on your way to the cinema yesterday. Back then, it had already closed for the day, but it promised fresh breakfast everyday in the café window. You talked about going there one day and trying out the menu.

“I love this idea”, he says, “I’m really hungry already”, he tells you and adds a quick, “not that kind of hungry though, don’t worry.”

You laugh, “I wasn’t thinking that”, you assure him, pecking his lips.

Jungkook hums and hooks his arms behind your head. With one expert movement, he has your positions flipped, kissing your lips as happy purrs rumble in his chest.

“Kookie, wait”, you giggle, fighting him off with minimal effort, “the breakfast.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me then”, he mumbles, chasing your kiss.

“It was a peck, you’re the one deepening it”, you complain with a racing heart.

“Mhm no”, he answers you, making you laugh.

“Come on, baby”, you snicker, turning your head so he is kissing your cheek instead.

“Hmpf fine”, he huffs out air, rubbing his nose against you slowly, “first shower, then breakfast, then I’ll buy you flowers and then I’ll show you what kissing me all naked gets you.”

“Sounds like a deal”, you say, feeling oh so giddy that you could burst.

2K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 1 month

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion pt 1

hockey au part 1: moving in, family dinner, and the first game of the season. also featuring: a whole bunch of other f1 cameos. 4.9k words

warnings: alcohol, slight reference to injury, my limited knowledge of college hockey, it’s a bit slow burn-y but i hope you get the vibe

You’re sitting in Lando Norris’ room, a basket stuffed to the brim with goodies perched on your lap. You’ve just finished going through them with Lando, explaining each one in excruciating detail. There are snacks, -both healthy and non healthy- study items, some school gear, and everything in between.

“You’re crazy,” Lando says, brows raised. “Like. Clinically. Coach told me to keep an eye on him, not… mother him.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you want him to feel welcome? S’gotta be scary, coming to a new team his junior year.”

The two of you are talking about Oscar Piastri, the hockey prodigy who, for two years, has been playing at a different school. Now he’s headed to play with Lando’s team, and his coach had strongly suggested that Lando take him under his wing. He’s moving in as one of Lando’s roommates in their off campus house today, so you’d made him a welcome basket. You’d been thrilled about the whole idea. Lando’s less excited, it seems.

“I do want him to feel welcome,” Lando says, collapsing backwards onto his bed and sighing. “This just seems a little overboard.”

“When am I not overboard?” You ask, hugging one knee to your chest.

Lando purses his lips, then shrugs. “You’ve got a point.”

You hear a commotion downstairs, and both you and Lando sit up a little straighter. You can hear Max Verstappen, the team captain, talking, probably showing Oscar around the house. You wiggle your fingers on the bed in excitement. Lando sighs in mock annoyance. He’s smiling, and you can tell he’s excited too. You know him well enough to know that. You’ve been friends for years and years now.

Lando stands up and nods towards the open bedroom door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

You follow him down the stairs and into the living room, where Max is standing with Oscar, explaining something and waving his hands around as he speaks. You and Lando lean in the doorway, his head stacked above yours, and wait patiently for them to notice you. Max does first, and his eyes light up. He waves the two of you in and introduces you both to Oscar, who smiles politely.

You’re holding the basket of goodies in your arms, and you hold it out to him. “This is a little welcome present,” you say, blinking softly.

Oscar takes the basket into his hands and blinks softly. His cheeks have gone red, and you feel your own face grow warm as he looks up at you. His hair falls over his forehead, and he smiles. Oh. Oscar Piastri is cute.

“Wow, thanks,” he says, quietly. “This is great.”

Lando leans over your shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

You elbow him, so hard he hunches over and groans. “Fuck off, Norris, you did nothing.”

Oscar laughs, muffling it behind his hand, and you feel quite proud of it. Max is quick to pull Oscar away after that, muttering something about showing him the rest of the house. Lando, having recovered, stands up and glares at you. You shrug. Then something pops into your head.

“Hey, family dinner is at 7:00 tonight,” you call after Max and Oscar, and Lando winces at the volume of your voice. “Don’t be late! I’m talking to you, Max.”

Nearly everyone shows up to the family dinner that night, which isn’t how they usually go. The whole team doesn’t live at the house, but Sunday dinner is open to everyone, and people make appearances based on their schedules. The guys who do live in the house are almost always there, of course. And you, because you almost never have anything better to do.

Oscar comes down to dinner in a Timberwolves hoodie that you recognize from the gift basket, which makes you feel a bit giddy inside. He stands on the edge of the crowd of people in the kitchen, like he’s a bit afraid to even put a toe in the wrong place. You smile softly at him from across the room as you open a bottle of soda. That same pretty blush returns to his cheeks.

Someone notices him, finally, and announces his presence. They’re hockey players, so they jump straight into teasing and far too aggressive handshakes. You let out a little sigh of relief as you see some of the tension fall from his shoulders. He looks happy to meet everyone, a smile slipping across his face. You can’t help the matching one on your own lips.

“Told you he’d be fine,” Lando says, nudging your shoulder.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Across the room, you hear someone comment on his hoodie as they tug on the front of it. “Nice, already repping the team!”

He nods, looking towards where you and Lando stand at the counter. “Oh. Yeah. Lando and his girlfriend gave it to me.”

The room falls silent for just a few seconds, and then they all erupt into laughter. Oscar looks around, bewildered, face even redder than before. You roll your eyes at the rest of the boys.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you state, and Oscar scrunches his face up sheepishly. “And, like I said before, Lando did absolutely nothing to help.”

“You know, you could sound less disgusted at the idea of being my girlfriend,” Lando suggests.

You roll your eyes and pick your drink up off the counter. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Alex, a goalie on the team who’s leaning on the counter nearby, nods along. “Besides, it’s not like you could ever pull Bunny, Lando.”

Lando puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. Alex’s comment is met with resounding agreement. Oscar looks even more confused. There’s a little furrow in his brow that you think is honestly quite adorable.

“Bunny,” Max says, pointing at you, always happy to explain something, “is her nickname.”

“It’s a long story,” Alex pipes in.

Oscar doesn’t ask more than that. When everyone sits down for dinner, he’s quiet, especially compared to the rest of them. He’s still settling in, you remind yourself. A new team must be daunting. As everyone talks about class schedules and syllabuses and how they can’t wait for the hockey season to start, you relate to him more than he’ll probably ever understand.

After dinner, the rest of the team files out. Eventually, you’re left at the dining table with Lando and Max. Their other roommates, George, Alex, and Charles, are in the kitchen cleaning up the leftovers. Oscar has disappeared, off who knows where doing who knows what. He’s probably still unpacking. It’s a Sunday night, and when you decide to head back to your own apartment, Lando offers to walk you home. When you leave his house, you look up at the window in the corner from outside. The blinds are closed, but Oscar’s light is on.

…..

You quickly find out that you and Oscar must be in the same major, or at least a similar one, because you keep bumping into him during the first week of classes. The strange thing is that he doesn’t seem to notice you, or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t care to. You’re in at least three lectures with him. He barely looks at you in any of them, and never acknowledges you.

He’s just as withdrawn at the hockey house, where you spend most of your free time. He’s not mean, he’s just not exactly social, either. After the first family dinner on the day he moves in, he misses the next three, which is nearly unheard of for someone who lives in the house.

Lando seems to think it’s fine. “He’s showing up to training, he’s talking to the team, he listens to the coaches well. Maybe he’s just not a social guy.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t like you,” Charles, the alternate captain on the team, suggests.

You glare daggers at him, reach into the mixing bowl in front of you, and lob a bit of cookie dough at his head. He dodges it with expert precision. It smacks against the wall and sticks. Damn athletes and their good reflexes.

“Hey, hey, no food fights,” Max says, having walked into the kitchen at the worst time.

He’s glaring at Lando, who throws his hands up in innocence. “It wasn’t me this time!”

Max turns to Charles, who points a finger at you. The captain gives you an exasperated look, resting his hands on the counter. He usually reserves that look for Lando, or one of his other teammates when they’re causing trouble. You hate having it directed at you.

You shrug. “He was being mean.”

“Was not!” Charles whines, and you roll your eyes at him. “All I did was suggest that maybe the reason Oscar’s quiet around her is just that he doesn’t like her.”

Max hisses through his teeth. “Charlie, that’s mean. Come on, who wouldn’t like her?”

You smile brightly. “For that, Max, you can have the first cookie.”

Max grins widely and reaches over to rub his hand against the top of your head. It’s the same way he rubs his gloves against his teammates' helmets when they’ve done well. You think it’s the only way he knows how to show affection. As he steps past you, Oscar walks into the room. You’d be worried he overheard the four of you talking, but you know he’s just arrived at home- you’d heard the sound of the front door. He greets everyone with a nod, sidesteps you, and heads for the fridge.

“Want some cookie dough, Oscar?” You ask, waiting with bated breath.

Charles narrows his eyes at you, obviously offended by your offer compared to you throwing it at his head. Lando’s watching you with amusement on his face. You want to punch both of them.

“Oh, no thanks,” he says.

He grabs a protein shake and then leaves the room again with just another nod. You pout at his back as he disappears.When you turn and look at Max, he’s giving you a solemn frown.

“We’ve found the one man immune to Bunny’s charms,” he says, shaking his head.

The cookies take a while to bake, and by the time they’re done, the house is empty. Everyone’s off at practice. You pack them up into a container, knowing if you time it right you’ll catch them on their break. Then you walk over to the rink, which is only a short distance away, cookies in one hand and a book in the other. You sit in on practices sometimes. Their coach only acts mildly annoyed about it. It usually helps when you bring baked goods along with you.

You take your usual seat down near the bench when you get there. A couple of the guys wave when they spot you. The head coach glares at you from the corner of his eye and then makes his way up into the stands, headed for you.

“Hi, Seb,” you say as you smile up at him as you take the lid off the container of cookies. “I made chocolate chip this time.”

Sebastian, or Coach Vettel, as everyone sane calls him, sighs and grins before reaching into the container. “They’re still warm!”

You nod, watching as he takes a bite. The smile stays on his face, which is a marker of a job well done. He turns over his shoulder, and you cover your ears just before he whistles to the team.

“Take a break!” He yells. “Cookies!”

Half the team scrambles over to the bench. Sebastian waves you down towards them. You follow him out of the stands and down to the bench, where Max is leaning over the wall, hands outstretched.

“I was promised the first cookie,” he says, elbowing Charles when he gets a little bit too close.

You hold the container out to him. Behind him, Oscar is face to face with the goal on the ice, shooting pucks like he doesn’t realize they’ve called for a break. Your heart sinks. Not even the cookies can make him look your way. Max catches your gaze as everyone else takes a cookie and scatters away, either to sit down or meander on the ice. He nudges his hand against your wrist and smiles softly.

“Give him time,” Max says with a shrug. “He’s trying to find his footing. Trying to prove himself. He’ll open up when he’s ready.”

You sigh heavily. “I don’t know why I care so much.”

“Because you’re a good person,” he says, and you feel your face heat up. “Because he’s new and you worry about him just like you worry about all of them. But that’s my job, too, okay? So trust me.”

You nod. He nods back. Then Lando comes barreling up, yelling something about cookies. You hand him a couple and listen to him whine about the practice as Max tries his best to keep the morale up. Behind them, Oscar shoots another puck into the net.

When they go back to practicing, you watch for a bit before you open your book. The season is ramping up, and their first game is only a few weeks away. The first practice was rough, it always is- you remember Max coming back to the house, so frustrated he wouldn’t even speak to anyone. They’re in sync now, though- passes connecting seamlessly, moving like a unit on the ice. You’ve missed it, you’ll admit. The scrape of the skates on the ice, the slap of the sticks against the pucks. When Lando asks if you’re excited for the first game, you’ll fake a yawn, just to keep his ego in check, but really, you can’t wait.

After practice is over, Lando yells up to you in the stands. “We’ll walk you home, yeah?”

You nod in agreement. You give them time to get packed up and changed and then meet them in the lobby of the rink. Slowly but surely, they all filter out. Lando’s first, hair soaking wet, and he shakes the excess water on you. Then Max and Charles, deep in a conversation you’ll never understand. George and Alex follow them out, and you peer behind them, looking for Oscar.

Max nudges you towards the door. “Oscar said not to wait for him.”

You try your best to hide the frown. Nobody but Max seems to notice, and he doesn’t point it out. He just smiles softly at you, like he’s trying to be reassuring. It works a little bit.

Your apartment is a few blocks down from the rink, sort of on the way to their house, if you don’t mind making a small detour. They always insist on walking you home, whether it’s one of them at the end of a family dinner, or a whole group on their way home from practice. Tonight, George and Alex peel off to head straight home, while Max and Lando accompany you. They’re chatting about the team, about practice, and you don’t really start paying attention until you hear them say Oscar’s name.

“I think he’s downplaying it,” Lando says, kicking a rock down the sidewalk. “I think with him, we have a real chance at the championship this year.”

Max is quiet. You know this is a sore spot for him. The team hasn’t won a championship since before Max and Lando’s freshman year. They’re seniors now. They’ve been in the playoffs every year. The championship has been just out of reach every time. They all want it so badly.

“Let him downplay it,” Max says. “Don’t put too much pressure on the guy, you know? Besides, better than him being a cocky asshole, huh?”

Lando twists his face up, but he nods. “Guess we’ll see at the game next week.”

You perk up even more at that. The first game is only days away. The whole campus is buzzing about it, yourself included.

“You’re going to be there, right?” Max asks, turning to you. “Can’t go without our resident cheerleader.”

You nod eagerly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You’ve reached your apartment building. They each give you quick hugs and then send you upstairs. By the time you reach your bed, you’ve forgotten all about Oscar Piastri and his unwillingness to act like you even exist. You fall asleep and dream of cookies flying across the ice rink like pucks.

…..

You don’t sleep over at Lando’s house often, preferring your own bed to the couch or the air mattress, or, god forbid, sharing a bed with Lando. The two of you are close, but never close enough to be that comfortable with cuddling, beyond long hugs when you’re feeling sad or he’s lost a game. But you’d had a movie night that went on long and when you’d fallen asleep leaning against his headboard, he’d suggested you just spend the night. Then he promptly curled up next to you and passed out.

You’d done the same, but now it’s 1am and you’re wide awake, blinking around the room. The poster the guys all tease him for stares at you from the back of the door- Lewis Hamilton, former Timberwolves prodigy and first round draft pick. It’s a bit ridiculous that he’s still got the poster, really, but you know he’s had it for years. You drag yourself out of bed and head down to the kitchen. Maybe if you can get some cold water, you’ll be able to fall back asleep.

You nearly scream when you walk into the kitchen and find that it’s not empty. Someone’s standing at the fridge, his back to you. It’s Oscar- he’s shirtless, and he turns to look over his shoulder like he knew you were coming. He probably did, you suppose- the house is old and the stairs creak, along with every other floorboard.

“Hi,” he says, quietly. You’re trying not to stare at the smooth expanse of pale skin on his back, or his toned arms. “Can’t sleep?”

You blink a few times, then take a step into the kitchen. “I was asleep. Then I woke up.”

He nods in understanding and turns back to the fridge. You watch as he pulls the pitcher out, then reaches for a glass- two glasses. Something about that makes your heart catch in your throat. You swallow the feeling down and take a few steps closer. His arm tenses as he pours the water. You’re trying not to stare, because really, it’s his kitchen and you’re an outsider here. You’ve never felt like this in this house before, so out of place. He’s the only one who makes you feel that way. You don’t think he’s even doing it on purpose. So you’re trying not to stare, and failing, because honestly, Oscar Piastri is hot. You’re only realizing it now, because you’ve been too focused on him ignoring you before this.

He clears his throat. “So. You’re not Lando’s girlfriend?”

That startles you out of your stupor. He slides the glass of water across the counter, and you step forward to grab it. You drum your nails on the granite and shake your head.

“Nope. Just friends. Strictly platonic.” You state. He raises his brows- you’re not sure what to make of that. “I know me being here at 1am sort of contradicts that, but, yeah.”

Oscar nods. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, I just…”

He just wants to know why you are here, if it’s not because you’re dating his teammate. He doesn’t understand. You get it. Between the nickname and your penchant for hanging out around the house and the practices, he probably does think you’re some sort of puck bunny. You fight the urge to jump to your own defense. Oscar’s given you almost nothing. You don’t owe him an explanation in return

You shrug. “It’s fine. Logan asked the same things,” you say, referring to the freshman rookie. “I promise I’m not trying to fuck all your teammates or whatever you assumed. I’m just friends with them.”

You see his whole body tense. You take a sip of your water and study his face. You can’t quite read his expression, not in the same way as you can with most of his teammates. It’s annoying that he’s so easily unknowable. He’s not even trying.

“That’s not why I asked,” he says, quietly.

You almost believe him. You would, really, if he hadn’t been so standoffish towards you for the first few weeks you’d known him. You try to remember what Max said a few days ago. He’ll open up when he’s ready. Or maybe, never at all.

You take the glass with you when you head back up to Lando’s room. “Good luck on the physics quiz tomorrow.”

He calls out a soft, “you too,” at your retreating figure.

It’s a kind gesture, but you’re definitely going to fail the quiz. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

…..

You file into your seat at the first game of the year surrounded by the smell of hot dogs and soft pretzels and cheap nacho cheese. Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, is already waiting in her spot next to yours. She’s wearing Alex’s varsity jacket. You’re clad in a hoodie you stole from the hockey house, one you’re pretty sure used to be Max’s at one point. It’s been passed down to other people so many times it doesn’t matter, now. Lily smiles at you when you sit down and tears off a chunk of her pretzel for you. You accept it gratefully. Between the pretzel, the chill in the air, and the sound of Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon playing in the background, you feel right at home.

The Zamboni is down on the ice, making its last round. “Did you ask Alex if we could ride the Zamboni this year?”

Lily nods. “He said ‘we’ll see’” she says, mocking his accent and letting out a puff of air. “So. We’ll see, I guess.”

You sigh heavily and lean back in your seat. You’ve been begging them to get you out on the Zamboni for years now, trying to bribe everyone from the players to the coaches. None of the bribes have worked yet. You swear you’ll get your chance one day, but this is Lando and Max’s last year. They’re your best shot- they’re the ones you’re closest with, and the most easily convinced to go along with any of your antics.

The Zamboni leaves the ice, and the players come out of the tunnel, and for the next 60 minutes-plus breaks- you’ll be glued to the game down below. It feels like the whole school has been waiting with bated breath- it’s Seb’s first year as head coach, they’ve got Oscar now, this could be the year. They could win it all. Maybe this is it. When you look over, Lily’s hands are gripping the armrests tightly. You place a hand on her wrist, just to remind her you’re there. She smiles gratefully as Alex takes his place in front of the net, and the rest of the boys take their places on the ice.

Oscar scores 30 seconds in. The two of you lose your minds in the stands, screaming your heads off. Down below, you watch Max rub his glove against Oscar’s helmet, watch the way Lando comes barreling into the younger boy from across the ice. The electricity of it crackles in the air. For the rest of the game, you can’t take your eyes off of him, off of number 81. He’s captivating.

They win with a solid 4-2 score, and the team they played is one of the easier ones, but it still feels good, and bodes well for the rest of the season. Oscar scores two of the goals. Another goes to Max, and the fourth to Charles. You and Lily head to the house before they’re even off the ice, knowing full well what’s about to come. You make quick work of clearing any breakable items from the common spaces of the house, you make sure all the bedroom doors are closed, and you remove anything they wouldn’t want stolen or spilled on- blankets, random hoodies, Charles’ entire week’s worth of homework strewn across the kitchen table. Lily pulls the mixers from the fridge, while you take the bottles of alcohol out of the cupboard. The two of you set up beer pong in the backyard together.

When the boys get home, they bring a crowd with them- the rest of the team, minus the freshmen, the team’s girlfriends and friends and some of their families, and anyone else they’ve picked up along the way. The house already feels full, and you start to usher people towards the backyard, knowing it’ll only get more crowded from here on out. Max pulls you into a hug as he slips past you on his way outside- you pass him a shot, and he smiles gratefully before he tips it back. Lando is hot on his heels, and you repeat the process. They’re freshly showered and starry eyed, riding the adrenaline high. The two of them shove at each other, and they bump into you in the process.

“Good game, boys,” you tell them, smiling brightly at your friends.

“Fucking Piastri, mate,” Lando says, snapping his fingers in a way that makes you wonder if he’s had a shot on his walk here. “I mean, come on!”

Max laughs and shakes his head. You pour another round of shots for the three of you, and Max shrugs, as if to say, why not. You tip them back and all collapse into fits of laughter afterwards.

When you look upstairs, you just barely catch sight of Oscar, disappearing into his room. He makes eye contact with you for just a second, and he smiles softly, cheeks rosy pink. You smile back, and then he turns and shuts the door behind him. It’s the last time you see him that night. The whole team is talking about him, and he’s not even there. You think that maybe you’ll never understand him. You don’t have time to worry about him, though, not when your friends are dragging you outside and begging for a round of beer pong. Oscar can take care of himself.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch in the living room. The sun is just peeking through the blinds, and you’re surrounded by empty plastic cups. Someone has tucked a blanket over you haphazardly, and there’s a hoodie shoved under your head as a makeshift pillow. Max or Charles’ doing, probably, or maybe a joint effort. It’s early, far too early, and you close your eyes to try and fall back asleep when you hear it- the noise that probably woke you up in the first place. Someone’s in the kitchen.

When you lean over the back of the couch and look through the doorway, you find Oscar. He’s surprised to see you this time, it seems- he stops in his tracks, eyes going wide. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are, too- he’s been crying. After all his pretending you don’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but the sight of him makes your heart twist in your chest.

“Hey,” you say, quietly. “You okay?”

His eyelashes flutter, and then he closes his eyes and sighs. “M’fine.”

He’s clad in a hoodie and a pair of shorts, and his running shoes. He’s carrying a water bottle, too. He probably thought he could sneak out of the house and go on a run before anyone else was awake, and that nobody would even know. But here you are. Watching him fight back tears.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” you say, quietly. “I won’t tell. I get it.”

He opens one eye and stares at you, unconvinced. You nod.

“The pressure of the first game,” you suggest. “And you won, but now the pressure’s even bigger to keep it going. And everyone is talking about you but you don’t like the spotlight.”

He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Yeah. Exactly.”

You rest your chin on your hands on the back of the couch. “It gets easier. Promise. And the guys- they’re just happy to have you on the team. It’s not all on your shoulders.”

He lets out a little huff and rolls his aforementioned shoulders. You can tell he doesn’t believe you, and for a moment, you wonder how shitty of a team he played with before. Max’s first priority as team captain has always been making sure his teammates are okay. Winning comes second. You know it’s not always like that for other teams.

“D’you… do you wanna come on a run with me?” He asks, and you blink in surprise.

You groan and flop back down onto the couch so he can’t see the way your face twists up. You do want to, actually. This feels like an olive branch. But a run is out of the question for you based on the ache in your right knee. Your physical therapist, Lando, and Max would probably all kill you for saying yes. So you say no instead.

“Piastri, I am violently hungover and I think I fucked up my knee last night, so I think I’ll pass,” you say. You hear him walk towards the door, and when he gets there, he turns back to look at you. His cheeks are still red, but his eyes are less watery. “But have a good run, yeah?”

He smiles. “Thanks.”

You can see him through the front window as he gets ready to take off. His breath curls into misty spirals in the cold morning air, and he’s silhouetted by the morning sun. It’s a bit breathtaking, really. When he disappears from view, you close your eyes and try to go back to sleep, comforted by the thought that maybe he doesn’t hate you, after all.

find part two, Change Of Heart, here!

a/n: i know it feels a little slow rn but we had to do some intro! let me know what you think!!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @ggaslyp1

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @lightsoutletsgo

if I’ve left you off a taglist on accident please let me know!!

629 notes · View notes

wonustars · 29 days

Text

𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖽 𝖣𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆

୨୧ pairing: wen junhui x f!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.4k ୨୧ genre: perv!jun x f!reader, smut (mdni 18+) ୨୧ summary: jun had a secret he's been keeping from you, one that could make or break your year long friendship. out of worry, you visit his apartment, only to discover important items that have been missing from your wardrobe.

୨୧ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

୨୧ tags: nonidol!au, uni!au, perv!jun, panty stealer!jun, f!reader, friends2fucking. ୨୧ smut tags/warnings: switch!jun/reader, p in v unprotected sex, cowgirl, slapping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie.

୨୧ note: this was purely made to torment @onlyhuis /lovingly heheh ♡ and becasue she is queen of huihui's :D. i also needed to write a shorter story to get out of my writing slump :p. and a big big ty my mother mars for proof-reading this despite her hectic schedule @onlymingyus 💞🎀

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

“Is everything ok, Jun?” you ask your friend, turning to him as he sits so far away from you that you feel like you have to shout for him to hear you.

He tenses up at your question, pausing to think before answering you.

"Uh, y-yeah, why?” He stutters.

“Because every time I come close, you’re always so stiff…” you pout, not liking how far away he is.

You’ve only been friends with Jun for about a year but got along well enough to become closer to each other than the rest of the friend group. He’s shy and a little quiet at first, but once he’s out of his shell, he becomes humorous and very endearing. There was a certain charm that Jun had that made people naturally flock towards him, despite his quiet nature. But even in the year you knew him, he didn’t go on dates or mention anything about a girlfriend.

The curious being you are, it made you wonder why he never tried to spread his wings and mingle a little bit. Always questions why he brushes off people's advances or fully ignores them when girls are trying to get to know more about him. You decided that maybe he wasn’t ready to date or he was trying to focus more on school.

The two of you spent much time at your apartment, not doing anything in particular. It was either scrolling through Tiktok silently in each other's company, studying, or watching a movie. Today is the latter, a little study session with Jun before playing a movie to wind down.

Usually, study sessions and movie nights called for cuddles, but today seems to be different. Jun hadn’t been acting himself the whole day and it confused you.

“No, I think I just got the flu or something, don’t wanna get you sick.” Jun choked out a lame response, not trying to blow his cover.

There’s a layer of sweat that’s beginning to form on his forehead as he tries to quickly gather his school supplies and bag off your floor. If he were to lift his arms any further up, you would catch his bluff, and his large and very hard bulge covering his oversized sweater.

“W-what?” You ask dumbfoundedly.

“I’m gonna go home and rest up, I’ll see you later, bye!”

The door shuts before you can get another word in. Jun’s abrupt exit leaves you even more confused than you were before.

A puff of air leaves Jun’s lips as he leaves your apartment, and he feels a twinge of guilt for leaving like that. But he wasn’t prepared to have you sitting so prettily on your couch, changed into nothing but a tank top and some sleep shorts. The sight of your plump breasts and full thighs caused all the blood from his brain to travel south.

He knows it’s wrong to look at you that way to yearn for your touch, to feel your plump flesh in his hands. And it's especially wrong to want to fuck you till his cock is the only thing you crave, yet he can’t help it. He can’t help the fact that your figure is like a drug and Jun is insatiable.

When it comes to you, it becomes very easy to turn him on. You could be doing the most mundane of things, but it’ll still get him going. He can’t help but stare, and he knows it’s bad, but he can’t tear his eyes off you. Today, for instance, your loungewear left nothing up to his imagination, and he was able to see every curve and crevice in what felt like ultra-HD.

The rise and fall of your breasts through your tank top is what got him, and if it weren’t for his sweater, or the fact the two of you only hang out at your apartment, you would’ve found out about his dirty secret.

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t curious as to why Jun left your apartment so fast. His urgency to escape made you feel like maybe you had done something to upset him, which is the last thing you would want to do. You valued your friendship with him and if something was going on, you wanted to know how to fix it.

Being the impatient person you are, you didn’t even give him a heads-up before deciding to show up at his apartment unannounced. Although you know it’s a little rude to barge in, it is all for the sake of your friendship with Jun. A friendship that you value a lot more than your other ones.

Knocking on his door, you call out for him, “Jun! Open up, it’s Y/n, I know you’re in there!”

There’s shuffling that can be heard behind the door, indicating that Jun is indeed home. But before you could knock on the door further, he opened it up. His eyes are wide, round glasses adorning his face, cheeks flushed like he’s out of breath.

“Are you ok? You look warm, are you still sick?” You overload him with questions, pushing past the door and placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

Jun is startled by your sudden touch, but the fact that you’re in his apartment is what alarms him the most. There were too many things in his room that could incriminate him. He isn’t a murderer or anything like that, just a huge fucking pervert. And as far as he could tell, you didn’t know how much of a perv he was for you.

He had turned into some type of kleptomaniac the moment you were comfortable enough to invite him into your home. Pocketing your stray panties every time you left a pair in the bathroom, just to bring them back to his room. Fucking himself into the cloth as if they were an immediate extension of you. The silk wrapping around his hard length, soiling them with his cum as if it were your body instead.

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t feel bad for stealing them, justifying his actions by telling himself that it was the only thing to keep him in control of his feelings for you. He didn’t feel any guilt for taking a new pair after they lost your scent or when they were dirty with his cum.

But having you in his apartment is like having an ice-cold bucket of water thrown over his head. While you were knocking relentlessly at his door, he was pleasuring himself in a pair he had stolen from your home the last time he visited. Placing the lacey pink thong in his sweater pocket when he excused himself to the bathroom. For some reason, you never noticed or were too embarrassed to bring it up with him. From his point of view, you seemed naive enough to think that you had just misplaced them.

Jun glances behind him to see that he left his room door open by a crack, meaning he just had to make sure you evaded that area entirely.

“I’m fine, Y/n, it’s late and you should go home,” He encourages, trying his best to usher you back to the door.

He curses how stubborn you are because his words have done nothing but make you want to stay even longer. Your two feet planted against the floorboards as if they were glued there. Shaking your head with your arms crossed in front of your chest, you simply refuse his request.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s wrong!” You exasperate, trying to convince Jun to finally tell you why he’s been acting so weird.

The gulp in his throat is evident, his strong Adam’s apple moving up and down as he watches your crossed arms accentuate the fullness of your breasts.

“I-Uh-,” He can’t even get a sentence out when your pretty mounds are right in front of his face.

Jun’s mouth is filling with drool quickly, and his semi-hard member starts to come back to life. Your anger causes your chest to heave up and down and all you can think about is how they would look without all the clothes in the way. Your nipples all perked up and wet from his saliva, he could imagine it all happening now.

“If I did something to upset you, I’m sorry,” you sigh, taking his bicep in your hand and squeezing it.

You look up at him through your lashes with an apologetic look and Jun is practically put into a trance. The way you’re staring at him so innocently, as he can only think of you in a lewd way, causes his dick to pulse in his sweatpants. The long white tee he’s wearing hardly covers his bulge, but thankfully you were still staring at him with a small pout on your plush lips.

“No! You did nothing wrong, trust me, I really wasn’t feeling well,” he assures you. “I just need some rest.”

“I can take care of you, I don’t know why but I feel like it’s my fault that you’re sick,” you insist, your stubbornness causing Jun’s heartbeat to start to pick up.

He watches you grab his arm to bring him back to his room and now he’s getting really scared. The pair of your panties he left on his bed is covered in his cum but somehow nothing is stopping you from leaving his side.

“Please, Y/n, I don’t want you to get sick,” he begs you, but you don’t stop, “And-And my room is a mess right now, please!”

Jun is beyond flustered now, but you protest harder, not letting his persuasive words get to you. You’re worried about him, and as the good friend you are, you just want to nurse him back to health.

“C’mon Jun I know you, it’s probably fine,” you sigh, pushing the door to his room open.

Before you could move a step further, the sight of his room caught you by surprise. Your back bumps into Jun’s chest as you stand there frozen. The pair of pink panties you thought you misplaced sat on top of his comforter, covered in a white and sticky substance.

You can hear Jun trying to explain himself, stuttering, and also calling out your name, but it's no use. It all becomes background noise as you start to connect the dots. All this time, you thought you were going crazy or were just downright forgetful. All this time you thought your panties were disappearing into thin air, but here they are, piled up on your best friend's desk. Using them, cumming into them, and most likely doing so while thinking about you.

A part of you is meant to be disgusted, but you can’t help but feel intrigued. Is this why he’s been acting so weird around you? Is this why he never accepts a girl's advances? Because he’s been jacking off to you and stealing your underwear?

“Jun…” you trail off, the shock is starting to seep in and you’re left just wondering why and how.

“Y/n I’m sorry,” is all he can say, his large hand cupping your waist as your back is still flushed to his front.

There’s something hard poking at your lower back, and it takes you a few seconds to realize what exactly is poking you. This pervert has a boner right now, you say to yourself in your head. It feels huge and the thought of him being secretly aroused by this situation is making your cheeks flush. You would be called a liar if you said that you didn’t think about fucking Jun from time to time. But who wouldn’t come across those thoughts once in a while? He’s attractive, kind, thoughtful, and smart.

You’ve always wondered what would happen if you took your friendship with him to another level, but you didn’t dare risk it. From your perspective, it seemed like he was just too focused on school to date anyone, and that's why he didn’t have a girlfriend. But from the looks of his room, your assumptions were flat-out wrong.

“I can explain myself, I’m sorry, Y/n,” Jun rambles on, his grip on you becoming tighter by the second.

“Jun,” you speak out with a stern tone, turning around to face him.

You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down once more, his cheek flushed knowing he got caught in the act. It makes you wonder how long he’s been doing this and if you’re the only person he’s been like this about. You just had so many questions that are circling in your head it made you dizzy. Dizzy but also buzzing with curiosity and intrigue.

“Are you a pervert?” you ask him, but you already know the answer.

“Oh, um– I–” He continues to stutter and you stare him down, and for some reason, his hand won’t leave your waist

His touch is barely there but it’s sending tingles up your spine, especially with him trying to find words to explain himself.

“This whole time, have you been fucking my panties to the thought of me?” you’re taunting him now, your voice firm.

His mouth opens for a second only to close again and you can’t help but laugh in his face. The fact that he has the gall to steal your underwear, but can’t get confronted without stuttering is somehow laughable to you.

On the other hand, Jun is a mess, he can’t seem to find a way to defend his actions. Although he isn’t sure if he can defend himself right now, there's evidence of him doing the most unspeakable of acts against one of his closest friends.

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” your voice barely above a whisper as you place one of your hands on his chest. “I can be a pervert too, you know.”

“W-what?” Jun is shellshocked, your words are barely wrapping around his scattered brain, but his hard-on is pulsing uncontrollably now.

You’ve barely touched him and he’s already feeling the pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock.

“If you wanna fuck me, just tell me,” you go on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, licking slightly at his ear lobe before going back down.

If Jun is lost in a lucid dream, he doesn’t want to be woken up. The fact that you're standing in his room, offering yourself up to him, already has him losing his mind. The pulse in his cock just grows harder to ignore as you look at him with expectant eyes.

A part of him is scared to touch you like you’d break if he laid so much as a finger on your delicate frame. The other part of him wants to press you into the mattress, fucking you with no mercy, to the point where you feel him inside your stomach.

The darker, more perverted half of him wins. His large hands grab you by the waist while he leans down to capture your lips into a kiss. And God was the feeling of your lips on his heavenly. It’s like he’s licking up clouds, your lips soft and plush, wet and sweet—everything he’s ever dreamed of. He can’t help but groan, enveloping his arms around you and pulling you in by your waist to bring you closer to him. Two arms wrap around his neck and it feels like he's floating on cloud nine.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans against your lips, his breathing becoming laboured with each passing minute.

He stares at you so intensely, you could get lost in his pupils with how blown out there are. Jun’s lips are pink and tender from kissing you, and it makes your knees weak. You can already feel the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Jun, please,” you whimper, placing kisses along his neck, sucking and biting to coax him towards his bed.

Moving backwards, Jun doesn't let go of your waist. Placing you carefully on the bed, your legs dangling off as your back hits the mattress. Your pink pair of panties that were discarded from the hours prior catch your eyes. It makes you chuckle knowing that Jun has been fucking your panties when he could’ve been fucking you instead. Honestly, if he had been honest with you before, you would’ve told him yes.

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about this moment,” Jun groans, his hands massaging your curves as he takes in the look of your body.

He’s seen what you look like before, but the context is different now. You’re about to let him fuck you, and he doesn’t know the reason why you’re allowing him, but he’s not about to complain.

“M-me too,” you blush, avoiding his gaze a little.

From the corner of your eye, you can see his own widen a little, surprised to know you’ve felt the same way about him this whole time.

“Wait really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He genuinely asks you.

“The same reason as you, I was afraid,” you shrug.

Jun just laughs, shaking his head, his round brown glasses reflecting light as he moves.

You watch him intently as he smiles, playing with the pieces of hair falling down and into his eyes as he lays on top of you. There's something really attractive about the glasses he’s wearing, they just suit him. The thought of sucking him off while he wears them runs through your mind like crazy. So you kiss him instead.

Pulling him in again, you kiss him hard, letting your tongue lick the insides of his mouth as Jun continues to grope at you. His hands are travelling under your tank top to grip your bra-less mounds. Tweaking and pinching your nipples which causes you to moan breathily between kisses.

“Just take it all off,” you ask of him, your request coming out as a squeak as he continues to play with you.

Jun doesn't need to be told twice, he promptly takes everything off of you, revealing your naked body. A groan bubbles up from his throat as he sees you adjust onto the bed so you're lying against his pillows. Never in a million years did he think he would ever get to see you naked on his bed.

“This is better than anything I could ever imagine,” he mumbles to himself, and you giggle at the fact that he’s talking to himself.

“And what would you imagine exactly,” you tease him, sitting up to remove his shirt.

Your hands are quick, taking off whatever remains of his clothing except for the glasses. The moment you get to his boxers, your voice is lost in your throat. The imprint his hard dick left is huge, and you’re wondering if he could fit it all inside you. Trying not to show how intimidated you are by his size, you pull down his last piece of clothing. The tip slaps against his stomach and you can feel yourself drool inwardly.

“I imagine you just like this, sitting pretty in my bed, begging for me to fuck you, to fill you with my cum,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back down.

His hand supports himself by your head, while the other roams further down your body till his hand teases the apex between your thighs. It makes you gasp, the feeling of his cold fingers, prodding at your folds.

“Is that something you’d like?” Jun continues to talk to you, his voice an octave lower.

You don’t say anything, more like you can’t say anything. The pads of his fingers are rubbing circles lazily against your clit, moans leaving your lips non-stop.

“Yes, I want that, please, Jun,” you beg him, gripping his bicep as he slides his fingers against your pussy lips harder. His fingers rub you but not enough to get you reeling over for him. He’s teasing you and you hate it.

“What do you want?” He taunts you because he already knows, he just wants to hear the words leave your lips.

You gasp, back arching as you feel one finger push past your entrance, going in and out of you at an excruciating pace. It feels so good to finally be full, it makes you feel lightheaded, but you want more.

“I want you to fuck me, please stuff me with your cum,” you whine, kissing up his neck to convince him to pleasure you further.

“Good girl,” he mutters, peppering kisses on your face, “got tired of fucking your panties, I need the real thing now.”

“Hmph, Jun, so good,” you moan, head thrown back as you feel him add another finger.

Your thighs spread even further, wanting him to have full access to your body. He realizes this, picking up the speed of his hands. The sounds of your squelching hole getting fingered fills the room and it’s like music to Jun’s ears.

Jun is lost in a daze, your face scrunched up with pleasure, and your eyebrows furrowed. He admires your beauty and he feels you come closer to your pending orgasm. There was something so intoxicating about your lust-filled gaze, eyes staring deeply into his as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“So fucking tight, and wet,” Jun grunts, feeling your walls constrict around his digits.

He wants nothing more than to feel you around his cock, but he wants to taste you first.

“I need to have a taste of that pretty pussy,” he whispers once again, smirking at how your doe eyes follow his frame as he lowers himself between your thighs, “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You are rendered speechless, just allowing Jun to use your body in whatever way he wants, but you don’t mind. The feeling of his tongue against your swollen bud makes your eyes roll back. It makes you grip his hair as he continues to push his two fingers into your slit. Having both his tongue and fingers on you is like heaven, and you can feel yourself coming close to the edge very soon.

“Close, I’m close, Jun,” you gasp out, watching him stare back at you from between your legs.

You’re mesmerized by how sexy he looks from where he is, the glasses fogging and defogging slightly with each breath he takes. His hair is a mess as you continue to pull at it, and the free hand he places on your thigh keeps you open. It’s a lot to look at and you don’t want to stop.

The familiar band in your stomach becomes so tight that it snaps, leaving you shaking as you ride out your first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck! Jun!” you wail, his tongue still playing with your clit as he begins to overstimulate you.

You practically have to push his head away, the sensitivity sending a prickly feeling all over your body. He just chuckles, the same smirk from earlier reappearing on his face. A sign that he knows he was teasing you after your orgasm, forcing you to grow frustrated with his actions.

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be,” you spit at him before flipping the two of you over.

Jun is left dumbfounded as he realizes that you’ve gained control over the situation. Your wet cunt sat snugly against his hardened length. He lets out a groan as you adjust yourself so your folds envelop the underside of his member.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts, hands gripping your waist as he drags you back and forth the length of his cock. It feels good for the both of you, your head lolling back as you savour the warmth of his dick rubbing against you.

“I would fuck this pretty cunt all day if I could,” Jun confesses, lost in the feeling of your warmth.

“I want it inside,” your voice is thick with lust.

Before Jun can say anything more, you lift yourself, aligning his tip with your entrance. Fully sinking on his cock, the two of you let out a sigh of relief. The way his length fills you makes your head dizzy with pleasure. You can feel him stretching your walls like no other, and you wonder why you haven’t thought of asking him to fuck you before.

“You’re tighter than I imagined, baby,” He mutters, and you can tell he’s trying hard to fight off his release.

“You’re so big, Junnie, fuck,” you whimper, moving your hips back and forth to adjust to his size a bit more.

You lower yourself to kiss his chest, moving up towards his Adam’s apple, leaving trails of love bites. The movement of your hips begins to speed up, grinding against him to satiate that inherent need inside you. The need to have his cum fill you to the brim, to mark you with his seed.

Moving back up, you push your hands against his chest to stabilize yourself, bouncing up and down his cock like a woman depraved. Your skin slapped against his torso with every thrust down. Jun can only moan below you, gripping your hips as one hand slaps your ass repeatedly. Mixing your pleasure with a little bit of pain, and your walls constrict around his cock with every hit he lands.

Looking down at him, his face contorted as you fuck yourself on his length, Jun knows he won’t last any longer. The sight of you bouncing on his dick is making him weak, especially with the view of your tits bouncing in front of his face.

“This pussy’s fucking perfect, so fucking good,” His voice strained, “Wanna fill you with my cum baby.”

“Please, Jun, I wanna feel it,” you moan.

That’s all he needed to hear because a second later you feel the spurt of warm cum fill your hole. A shiver goes down your spine as you wait till Jun finishes emptying his seed into you, your orgasm follows quickly after. Juices coating his length as you let out a little moan of relief.

You collapse on his chest, lying there, Jun wraps his arms around you as his cock still sits snugly inside your warm cunt. Letting out a hum of satisfaction, you feel yourself start to get drowsy from how much energy you exerted.

“Can’t believe my best friend is a pervert,” you giggle, your fingers doodling nonsense on his bare chest.

“I can’t believe my best friend is attracted to perverts,” He argues back, rubbing the length of your back to calm you down.

You just roll your eyes in response, “You better give me my panties back.”

୨୧ a/n: ty for reading! i hope you liked it, please kindly leave a comment or reblog :3 or send an ask! ik i want to do a pt.2 of this so lmk what u all think!!! if theres any typos or warning tags missing pls comment or send an ask :) ty again and see you next time ♡

୨୧ taglist: @christinewithluv @todorokiskitten @peachescreamandcrumble @minwonfairy @oneandonlyluvv @ihrtmingyu @tigerhoshii @sleepzyy @luveveryonewoo @thepoopdokyeomtouched @chan-s-laptop @aksweet7 @leah-rose03 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @gyuguys @crystal-rhyming @jenoxygen @hoshhhiiiii @babigriin @bouclesdefeu @mingyuecstacy @iluvseokmin @odevote118 @wonvsmile @suga-bitch @chickpea-jimin @lar3ine @bias-recs @hanniebub @iluvmingi @vapidlynn @aaniag @yogurttea @blurr3db3rry @lovejoshua @woozixo @drunk-on-dk @noiceoofed @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @yuyunhoo @whowantshota @hannniiiiiehae @afslme @writingbarnes @cheolism

#svthub #wen junhui #jun #seventeen smut #jun smut #seventeen fic #jun x reader #jun fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #svt smut #svt fic #seventeen x reader #junhui x reader #junhui smut

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natriae · 2 months

Note

Oh to make out with omi omi like it’s so messy and hot and surprisingly he love it too. Maybe one day u are having drinks and things get heated. OMGGG a roommate au fuckkkkk my mind goes burrrrrrrrrr

NO FRR needy omi makes me go brrrr

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITTING THIS SOONER

WARNINGS: 17+, BONER ALERT!!, drinking

Friday nights with your roomate weren't unusual. The two of you often going to the fanciest bars in Tokyo with the best views. You'll have to thank the Volleyball Association for his hefty paycheck. The two of you didn't get to see each other often between you pursuing your master's degree, Kiyoomi traveling and his tough practice schedules. The most interaction you guys have had in the pass month was passing him in the hallways. Him always being half dead and you... well you weren't in the best shape as well.

So you decided that the last friday of the month was Omi and Y/N time. While you wanted to spend this time showing him how greatful you are he took you in, omi had the idea of going to "better" establishments. By better he means 3 star michelin restaurants... the ones you can't afford.

Yes, it was nice to see that his name allowed the two of you to experience these beautiful places, but as of lately these seemed more like dates rather than two roommates catching up. Not that your opposed to a date with Omi. Have you seen his body? But he's seen you at your worse. Crying to him at the bar in Ongiri Miya about how your getting evicted from your apartment and how your behind on loan payments. He's seen you sick and begging for him to get you toilet paper. If anything he probably takes you to these places to be his wing woman.

One too many drinks later, and the two of your are stumbling out of the restaurant to his luxurious car. Kiyoomi was much better at hiding his drunkenness than you where. The street lamps were just dim enough to hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

All of your weight pressed into his side while he attempted to keep you upright. "Y/N you need to work with me," the taller man grunts before decides to lift you up over his shoulder. "we need to go home," he breaths into the chill night air.

"whoa, big boy take me on a date first," you giggle into his back. Hitting one of his butt cheeks with the palm of your hand.

You're flipped back upright once you reach his car. He opens the back door and tosses you in. It takes a moment for your brain to register that he got in next to you. "why aren't you driving?" you question, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I'm drunk...gonna wait till I sober up a bit," he states closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Always so responsible. "Also we live together, and that was a date, so I wouldn't be in the wrong," he says sternly looking down at you.

Popping your head up you look at him with furrowed brows. "what do you mean that was a date?"

"Was it not?" He questions, more so to himself than to you. While Kiyoomi is lost in his own thoughts yours run wilding thinking of all the times the two of you have gone out like this. He never said any of these were dates...

You watch as Kiyoomi's adam's apple bobs in his throat. If his face wasn't flushed enough it's clear now. His ears bright red as he stutters out his next words. "d-did you not want this to be a date?"

Did he really think these were all dates? You attempt to look at him in the eyes, yet his fail to meet yours. His head remains looking at the window leaving you with only the view of his red ear. Memories flood your mind in attempt to find the word date leave his mouth during any of your plans. Yet all you can remember are the times Kiyoomi was left stressed he wouldn't have time to shower and change, how he spent an abnormally long time on his hair, or how he always would sneak his card to the waiter so he paid for your meal.

"Hey, look at me," you whisper, lightly moving his chin to face you. His pupils widen over his already dark eyes making them look like perfect tapioca pearls. "we're these all dates?" did you want these to all be dates? Kiyoomi nods his head slowly, and you drop your hand from his face. Unwanted touch was not the man's specialty, yet his hand drops to yours. Placing it back on his cheek, as he looks into your eyes.

"I didn't know how to ask you, and I definitely drank to much tonight," his face flushes more as he rubs your hand softly. "Miya told me to ask you tonight, but i was.."

"Kiyoomi you can say you were nervous," you whisper in the dark car inches from his face.

"never," he smirks. That's something you can tease him about tomorrow. You want nothing more then to kiss the stupidly handsome man. "didn't think you'd like me.. you know with my habits," he states barely loud enough to hear.

"how can I not, at least i know you don't have shit stains," you giggle, leaning closer, noses almost touching. He giggles with you, a sound you don't get to hear often. The deep breath he takes is almost enough of a distraction for you to miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.

"Kiyoomi"

"huh" he responds on autopilot.

"do you wanna kiss me?" you ask, eyes widening like that of a doe.

"may I?" the gentleman in him asks. Not even a second later your leaning completely into him. Leaving a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes remain shut after you seperate. Your nose still touching his, a small smile escapes as you lean in to kiss him longer. His hand comes to rest on your neck to push you futher into him. You may have broken Kiyoomi.

He bites your lower lip as his hand leaves your neck to wrap around your body while his other hand grabs your thigh to help situate you on his lap. Both of your hands hold his face as you deepen the kiss. You can't help, but strattle him while your tongues explore each others mouths. It's mess and sloppy as saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. His large palms move under your dress to kneed your ass. Your not even sure this is your Kiyoomi with the way his hand slaps, strach that, spikes your ass. Kneading the flesh before repeating the action. Your left unbuttoning his shirt as he begins to trail kisses down your neck. His hands go to waist to push your heat to his hard on.

They were right, it's always the quiet ones.

Your hands tangle in his hair as your left grinding onto him. At this point your dress is bunched up around your waist, allowing Kiyoomi's hands to play with the string of your thong.

Kiyoomi's deep breaths lead you on as you kiss down his neck. "y/n, y/n, not here," he breathlessly rasps. He hears your whine as you grind a little harder into him. He laughs before bringing your face to look at him. His hairs a mess, shirt halfway unbottoned, and his breathless. What god do you have to thank for this sight.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #hq headcanons #hq imagines #hq smut #hq #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff

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bluegiragi · 5 months

Note

okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

#also as an aside on the price ghost situation #it was a real blind leading the blind situation during his recovery #not a lot is known about wraiths and practically nothing about minimising their…wraithiness #so price was just acting knowing that this was Simon now #and Simon needed him #I promise I’m going to draw this whole thing in a backstory plot line #askbox #anon

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prythianpages · 4 months

Note

Ohhhh would you ever write more about the witch reader x az. I loved it! I want to see feyres reaction :)

I might! I think I'd be open to making it like a series/au bc witch reader x Az makes me so soft 🥰 and I'm currently obsessed with the song that inspired it bc the song is so beautiful and whimsical and makes me wish I could experience a love like that

if you haven't read the original imagine, you can find it here.

here is a small drabble of feyre's reaction 😊 :

When you and Azriel return to the river house, Feyre is in the sitting room. She's lightly bouncing an agitated Nyx, who teethes at a cool wash cloth. "I know, baby," she coos at the infant.

Her blue-gray eyes are on you as soon as you enter and they light up when she notices Azriel's hands are ungloved and one of them is holding on to yours, fingers intertwined with another.

"How was the trip?" She asks, her lips curling up into a knowing smile.

"It was fine."

"She almost cursed Eris."

You're turning to Azriel with a playful glare and his wings twitch in response, his usual stoic demeanor now much lighter and Feyre knows it's all because of you. "It could've been a nice little hex that'd make his eyebrows fall off, you know. Just something to get him off his high horse."

Feyre laughs at the image that comes to mind. "I hope Eris didn't give you much trouble?"

"He shot an arrow through Azriel's hand."

"No."

You and Azriel exchange another look, missing the way Feyre's eyes grew distant for a brief moment.

They're holding hands! Feyre nearly screams into Rhysand's mind and he can feel all her excitement and joy through the bond.

He's sitting outside by one of the tables in their garden with Cassian and Mor on either side of him. If it were up to him, he'd be inside by his wife. But it was her who had kicked him outside, not wanting to overwhelm Azriel and you. "Out you busybodies!" She had exclaimed as she ushered them all out of the house.

"Hey, Cas," he grins. "You owe me twenty coins."

Cassian nearly spits out his lemonade. "What?" He sputters with wide eyes. Mor leans forward in her seat.

Rhysand then shows them the image Feyre had send him. It's of you and Azriel bickering and fussing over one another like an old married couple.

"Let's just call it even." Cassian insists, setting his cup down. "I am the one who got rid of all the dandelion root from her apothecary shop."

"Hey! Don't take all the credit. I am the one who kept her distracted!" Mor cuts in, dramatically throwing her hands in the air. "And also the one who kept Azriel from suspecting anything when Feyre had asked for an escort. Do you know how hard it is to sneak things around those two?"

"Thank you, Mor. Your hard work is much appreciated here," Rhysand says, his grin growing wider as he rises from his seat, knowing it'd only irritate Cassian further.

He catches the glare Cassian sends his way. "20 coins," Rhysand reminds him, holding his hand out expectantly.

"In a way," Cassian begins, not wanting to accept his loss. "I helped you win the bet!"

"That's not my problem." Rhysand replies with a smug shrug.

Cassian grumbles and digs into his pocket. He throws all twenty coins at Rhysand's face, who easily intercepts them with a wave of his hand. They fall gracefully into the palm of his hand instead.

Mor laughs as she also rises from her seat. Twenty coins is nothing to them. It's barely enough to buy a cheap bottle of wine.

Cassian follows shortly after, the three of them scurrying inside and wanting to catch a glimpse of you and Azriel holding hands in person. Although, they find you nestled on the couch with baby Nyx in your lap. You rub the elixir you had made earlier over Nyx's gums, smiling when you feel the babe relax in your arms, as you tell Feyre all about your venture earlier.

Azriel is seated on the armest of the couch right next to you, cutting into your story when he deems necessary. Everyone takes note of the way his hand is resting on the small of your back and one of his wings instinctively curls around your smaller form. They also take note of the lingering scent of your bond in the air, stronger now that you both have acknowledged the bond. Cedar and lavender.

a/n: I considered the whole Nyx being in pain to be a lie, a glamor made by Feyre to trick reader into having to go scavenge for dandelion root but decided it was better to just have Cassian and Mor be sneaky instead :)

#azriel drabble #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x witch!reader #az!dandelions #thank you for the ask!

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monzabee · 6 months

Text

red bull gives you wings! (social media au) - dr3

masterlist

Summary: The one where red bull brings together people, again.

Pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader (model used: hande baladın)

Warnings: none other than some cursing, internet being the internet

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

ynyln posted a story!

ynyln

Liked by tarkanofficial, redbulltr, edaerdem14 and 384,927 others

ynyln: çok çok love 🥹❤️🏐 thank you, VNL! see you in tokyo!✌️

powervolleyballofficial: golden girls 😍🇹🇷🏆🏐

user: release the naim video!! now!! we need it!!

zehragns18: 🥹🥹🥹

view all 7,367 comments

bednii: 👏🏼😉

user: she needs to work on her passes more she is very weak

user: are you the one playing in the national team?

user: if i'm the one noticing the mistake then there is a problem

redbulltr: we knew you could do it!👊❤️

volleyballinsider

Liked by kpvolley, yukitsunoda0511, eczacibasisporklubu and 537,928 others

volleyballinsider: going from being one of the most criticised players on the turkish national team to one of the most valuable players, Y/N Y/LN proves that dedication and hard-work are the key elements of success. congratulations to Y/LN and the rest of the turkish team for their recent win in the european championship!

user: yet another propaganda to make us think that women are better than man at sports

user: i don't think we need a propaganda for that, dude

user: i don't mean to be annoying, but what's yuki tsunoda doing here??😳😳

user: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

user: he liked the post-

user: congratulations to the sultans of the net, they are having a golden summer!

view all 7,452 comments

ynyln

Liked by abreusmelissavargas, yukitsunoda0511, danielricciardo and 786,928 others

ynyln: not sponsored🙃✌️

user: she knows how to party!!🤩

user: i hope red bull knows they have a walking, talking breathing ad😭

user: she's a red bull athlete, what did you expect her to do?

user: first yuki, now daniel?👀

user: she was in australia last year, do you think they met there?

user: i mean.. that's reaching, australia is quite big

user: drop the hair care routine queen🙏

ynyln: the tears of my enemies as conditioner💅

view all 12,736 comments

danielricciardo: nice hat

ynyln: howdy

danielricciardo posted a story!

ynyln posted a story!

ynyln

Liked by redbulltr, tvfgovtr, danielricciardo and 873,647 others

ynyln: paris, ça va?✌️

redbulltr: saint joseph online🫡

user: ma'am you are a MONSTER (respectfully)

user: the hero without a cape is still a hero, wonderful match today!

user: haters will say she is weak, and then she will spike on em

view all 123,625 comments

user: f1 fans are confused and i feel so sorry for them

user: yeah we're confused because how did daniel bag HER

ynyln: with a lot of tim tams👀

danielricciardo: don't give away all my secrets🙃

danielricciardo

Liked by ynyln, pierregasly, f1wags and 973,425 others

danielricciardo: a different kind of a grandstand this time, congratulations pookie

ynyln: now you're just making up words

danielricciardo: where is my date?

ynyln: let me shower first, god

ynyln: also, yuki is still here

yukitsunoda0511: yes i am✌️

user: THEY ADOPTED YUKI😭

user: this man... hard launched... on the main.. just like that..

user: i don't know if i want to be her or i want to be him🙃

view all 5,625 comments

user: STOP i love them so much already

danielricciardo

Liked by landonorris, redbullracing, ynyln and 973,425 others

danielricciardo: post-summer summer dump

pierregasly: good dump

ynyln: ew, pierre

danielricciardo: she's right ew, pierre

yukitsunoda0511: ew

user: this is my bi awakening

user: are we not going to talk about the bucket hats?

user: are we not going to talk about the fact that they've adopted yuki?😭

user: so normal about this, absolutely so so normal about this

landonorris: how does she feel about papayas?

user: OMG STOP

view all 5,367 comments

ynyln: dude, are you obsessed with me or something?

danielricciardo: or something

ynyln: stop making me blush danny

redbullracing: tell yn hi from us!✌️

redbulltr: back off, chief

danielricciardo: 😳

ynyln: 🤩✌️

ynyln

Liked by ilkinaydin, simgeakoz, danielricciardo and 683,728 others

ynyln: collecting miles and smiles🙂 p.s. these photos are ollllllld

user: i'm so confused but so obsessed a the same time😩😫

user: but did she teach him how to spike??👀

francisca.cgomes: please come back to paris😭 i miss you😭

ynyln: they way i would jump on a plane RIGHT NOW

pierregasly: i'm right here

ynyln: sucks to be you🙃

user: MS STEAL YOUR GIRL

user: yikes overtook by y/ln

ebrarkarakurt18: aşkım what happened to hot girl summer??

danielricciardo: oops

danielricciardo: who's the guy? he looks good

ynyln: a kangaroo

ynyln: he jumps sometimes

view all 3,746 commenst

user: who is your favourite f1 driver?😉

ynyln: sebastian vettel!☝️

danielricciardo: COME ON

4141spor posted a story!

ynyln

Liked by zehragns18, kpvolley, redbulltr and 683,728 others

ynyln: in between training sessions, thank you @redbulltr for stopping by! @eczacibasisporklubu

redbulltr: see you next time, partner!✌️

user: girl what are those nails??

ynyln: new strategy!!

simgeakoz: ready for another season with my girls👊

user: she's a redbull athlete??

user: you bet your ass she is

user: red bull is the best matcmaker fr

view all 15,362 comments

yukitsunoda0511: 🤟

ynyln: yukinooo

ynyln: 🫶

danielricciardo:🥺

user: i really don't understand how the aussie man bagged her

landonorris: you and me both

danielricciardo: red bull gives you wings!

ynyln: it does!

#monzabee #formula 1 x reader #paddock #social media au #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #lance stroll #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #formula one x reader #daniel ricciardo social media au

644 notes · View notes

angeliclovely69 · 2 months

Text

Soul Ties - 1

Pairing: Lute x Fem!Reader

AU: Soulmate(You are born with matching tattoos)

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Spoilers?, Adam being Adam, Gay, kinda similar to ACOSF, implied drinking problem

Summary: A relatively young Seraphim is forced to train with the Exorcists after breaking the rules. However, when she realises just who will be training her, she doesn’t mind. She enjoys the view.

Note: I have never read A Court of Silver Flames, but my friend said this is pretty similar. In what ways, I’m not sure, but I can assure you it is not intentional. Also, it wasn’t supposed to end in smut, but I couldn’t deny myself.

—

Stars. You fucking hate them. Pretty as they are, you have never seen anybody else with them marked into their skin. The black signature ran down your back, four stars in a line imprinted on the skin of your spine. They burn as you walk into the training ring.

She is waiting there as you were told, talking to who you know to be Adam, the first man. You only catch the last part of their conversation, the woman’s words. “Yes sir.” Adam’s eyes meet yours, “I forgot you were hot, little Seraphim.” He laughs at his words, you don’t, and neither does the lieutenant.

You are the second youngest Seraphim, only older then Emily by a hundred years. Not young in the grand scheme of things, but young for a high ranking angel. Everyone knows your age is why Sera allowed you to get away with your disobedience for so long. She figured you grow out of it, but when you came to work hungover, she had no other option. She had to punish you, if only for the sake of her reputation. She gave you two terrible choices.

Fall or train.

Simply no choice at all, really. Falling means admitting you failed. You can’t, that would mean everyone was right. Training isn’t going to be easy, you have never worked any muscles besides your wings, and even that was just from flying.

“Lute, this is who you’ll be training.” Thank god goodness he said her name because when Sera mentioned it you’d still been hungover. “Pleasure.” The white haired woman met your eyes now, her own sharp, determined. She doesn’t answer your statement, simply blinks as if thinking too hard to process.

“Do I have to?” She directs her attention to Adam, who just flips her off and flys away. “Fuck.” She mutters. Her eyes close for a moment, then she directs her full attention back to you. “Can you do a sit-up?”

“Can you actually try?” She is getting frustrated. Terribly so. You are making her job harder. You have been sitting watching her do her workouts for about an hour. You don’t answer, just look around the room. You trained for about 20 minutes with Lute before the space began to fill with other Exorcists.

You are embarrassed, to put it simply. How are you supposed to want to train when literal warriors surrounded you. You are stubborn, and she is mean. She doesn’t care if you fall. Why should she put in all the effort when you don’t even bother to do anything?

“I will not train here.” You really aren’t trying to be difficult. Sure you don’t want to train at all, but you aren’t the type of angel that would ever make someone’s life harder, well…ignoring Sera.

You want her to understand. She doesn’t. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your words go unanswered as the white haired lieutenant leaves, angry and confused. She understands this wasn’t your choice, but why the fuck can’t you do anything?

Lute asked Sera how you usually act when she originally told about the arrangement. According to Sera you could be stubborn, a little headstrong, but you would behave to the best of your abilities. Not only so that you wouldn’t be punished, but also because you hate making people angry. Any time you did, you ended up crying. Even Sera.

Sera had assured Lute that you’d try, but she couldn’t be sure how you’d react to the training, or Lute herself. Lute doesn’t know what the last part meant, but it doesn’t matter. She is going to end this arrangement. If you don’t care, she doesn’t either.

“How’d it go?” Sera asks, voice almost cracking. She is scared, Lute notices. “She didn’t do anything.” Bluntness laces her tone. Sera frowns. “Really? Nothing?” Lute wants to nod, but hesitates. “She did train at first, but then other exorcists came in, and she stopped. She just stared at me while I trained.” Lute rants.

The seraphim’s face seems to lighten, as if realising something Lute hasn’t. “What?” Lute doesn’t understand why you are the way you are. Doesn’t really care. Sera does understand, though.

You grew up as almost a younger sister to Sera. You aren’t related, but something about you draws Sera in. Draws everyone in, to be completely honest. You are, in a way no one could place, different. Not in the conceited way. No. Your soul just doesn’t belong where it is. You were almost too kind. Too gentle. Sera hates that she has to punish you, but you’ve been going through something she can’t handle.

“When the others came in?” Sera questions, confirming a thought process Lute still hasn’t caught on to. “Yes! I said that already.” Her tone is harsh, and one look from the high seraphim, has her nodding a silent apology.

“Did you not question the reason?” The seraphim’s voice is gently coercing the answer from the lieutenant. Lute simply shakes her head, her frustration growing again. She knows the reason, you are a lazy brat.

“Tell me, have you ever been embarrassed?” Sera’s smile is light. “Yes.” Lute’s single word was harsh. The seraphim gives her yet another pointed look. “Sorry…”

Lute has never been able to tame the frustration that always bubbles underneath her skin. A type of frustration that doesn’t belong in Heaven. Rage that killed hundreds. That was her purpose. Death and retribution. Her very soul screamed anger, pure uncontrollable rage.

That’s why Adam has chosen her. Chosen her over everyone else. Made her his lieutenant. His right hand. She obeys orders and allows unnecessary demands. That’s what this arrangement is. Unnecessary.

“Then do you understand?” Sera is calm, too calm compared to Lute’s frustration. Lute shakes her head. Not trusting herself enough to not let the frustration show again. “Do I need to explain it to you?” A nod. Short, subtle.

“In the simplest of terms, she’s embarrassed. Classical trained soldiers. Heaven’s greatest. The universe’s greatest. Compared to a girl who can barely walk up stairs without losing her breath. She’s probably the most proudly stubborn person I’ve ever met. She doesn’t want to fall on her ass.” A nice- no. Lute processed the information slowly. Sera asks if she understands. Another nod.

Lute doesn’t say anything else, just leaves the room. She isn’t sure where to train you if you are uncomfortable in the public space. Unless, she let’s you use her personal space. No. That isn’t happening. She’ll just have to make do.

It doesn’t work. The next day you do the same thing. For the first 20 you are engaged, then the others fill the room, and you sit off to the side.

“Fuck this!” Lute yells in the locker room, slamming her fist into the mirror. It shatters. “Fuck!” She yells again. You left a while ago, and Lute had to stay. You aren’t her only assignment after all.

Her back is burning. Her entire body is burning. Rage is practically seeping from her skin. She takes off her shirt in an attempt to cool down. It’s late, extremely late, and for once the training area is empty. At least it should be, it was a bit ago. Now, though, she can hear panting. Distant, airy. She debates putting her shirt back on, but she shrugs the thought off. The Exorcists have seen her shirtless before.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the woman doing sit ups in the middle of the ring isn’t an Exorcist. It’s you. Panting. Sweating. She stares for a minute. Can’t stop herself.

When she finally catches herself, she walks over to you. “Shhh. Don’t talk.” Her tone isn’t soft, but it’s no where near harsh either. Improvement. Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t realize she was there. Fuck. How long was she there? Was she judging you?

She catches herself liking the look in your eyes. Liking your eyes in general. It takes a moment of staring for her to blink. “Go to bed. Ah. Sh.” She cuts off your attempt at an argument. “Go to bed. For training tomorrow meet me at my private training area. This time. It will be there from now on.” She doesn’t say anything else as she walks away.

She silently thanks god for it being dark. She doesn’t need you knowing anything about her.

#hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x fem!reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute smut #soulmate au #matching tattoos #AU #hazbin hotel au #wlw #light enemies to lovers

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||

summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.

word count: 5.5k

tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare

notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.

Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.

Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.

Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.

You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.

Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.

You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.

His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.

Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.

So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.

“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.

You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.

“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.

Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.

“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.

“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”

You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.

Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.

He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.

He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.

“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.

“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.

Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.

He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.

“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.

“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.

You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.

“Good?”

You nod, “Good”

Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.

Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.

He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.

“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.

You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.

You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.

Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.

He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.

You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.

You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.

His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.

He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.

And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.

“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”

“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.

He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.

He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.

You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.

It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?

Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.

“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”

The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.

His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.

“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.

“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.

“What happened at work?”

You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.

“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.

Namjoon hums, “What about him?”

“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.

Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.

“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.

You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”

Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”

“Promise?”

He smiles, endeared “Promise”

“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”

“And?”

He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”

“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”

“Okay” you nod.

“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.

Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.

You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.

“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.

Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.

“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.

You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.

“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.

Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.

Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.

Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.

“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.

You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.

You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.

Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.

You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.

“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.

Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.

You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.

“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”

“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?”

Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.

“Go on, cum for me”

Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.

“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.

Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.

You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.

“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.

“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.

Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.

Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.

You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.

“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”

You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.

Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.

‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.

He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.

“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”

“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.

“Anything” she nods.

“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”

“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”

“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.

“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”

“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.

And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.

Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.

Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.

“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“I have a small job I need to take care of”

“Can I help?”

“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.

You look up at him, “You can’t go”

“And why not?” he challenges.

“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.

“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.

“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”

“I won’t” you wave him off.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.

He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.

“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.

You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.

“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”

“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.

His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.

You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.

Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.

“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”

You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.

“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.

“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.

He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.

“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.

All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.

His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.

“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.

You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.

“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.

“My good girl”

Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.

You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.

He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.

“God, you’re so pretty”

Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.

Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.

“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”

You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.

Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.

Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.

You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.

“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.

“Of course, sweetheart”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.

“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.

“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”

And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.

Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.

“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.

He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.

You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.

“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.

“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.

Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.

Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.

“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.

You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.

Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.

You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.

His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.

“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”

The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.

“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.

When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.

And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.

Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.

“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.

Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.

“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.

You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.

He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.

You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.

“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.

You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.

Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.

“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”

You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.

Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.

And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.

Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.

You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.

Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.

Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?

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