#begging for attention from shin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boydepartment · 6 months

Text

three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was a request from my 🧈 anon :3 i hope you love it my dear

warnings- jealousy! nothing insane tho, mostly fluff 😋 i added a small inside joke that riki would call ricky from zb1 “discount ricky” all jokes tho (pls don’t kill me)

wc- honestly over 750

MASTERLIST

“here.” you looked over to riki setting your drink down on the table, you looked up at him and smiled as he sat down across from you at the cafe table.

“did you-“

“ask for extra peppermint? yes. even though it’s gross..” riki mumbled, you giggled and sipped your hot coco. it was freezing cold at least to you and so the coco helped a lot.

“when is your project partner arriving?” riki mumbled, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged, “any minute.” setting your coco down riki watched you, he wasn’t necessarily happy over this whole project partner thing. riki knew your project partner, and safe to say he was just irritated by his presence. he didn’t know why, but he was just irked.

so when the OTHER ricky walked in, he just waved and watched as the other boy sat next to you.

“hey y/n!” he smiled, you grinned back at him.

“hey! it’s cold outside are you sure you’re bundled up enough?” you asked, grabbing your books. riki just decided to go on his phone to pass time.

“yeah! it’s crazy how quickly the weather changed huh? are you warm enough?”

you and ricky made small talk which didn’t bother your best friend. that was until one sentence.

“your hands are freezing y/n!”

riki’s eyes shot up to see the discount ricky’s hands on yours. if stares could kill a man, discount ricky would be six feet under.

“oh! yeah that’s why riki, well, my riki got me hot coco.” you let go of his hand and turned to your hot beverage.

nishimura riki would be lying if he said some pride didn’t bubble up inside him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to you.

riki didn’t take notice and he went back on his phone, he just wanted your project to be over so he could walk back to the car with you and just be away from people. by people he meant discount ricky. this was strike one for his patience.

“i think we should work more on the details of the piece of art itself. like things that normal people look past in monet’s art. there’s a story everywhere.” you suggested, this art project was pretty big for your grade. and you were just relieved that your project partner agreed to do monet.

“that’s such a good idea y/n.” ricky smiled.

oh please riki thought to himself, at that point discount ricky should just get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention. that’d be way less embarrassing than kissing your ass at every little- wait what the hell

to riki’s horror, discount ricky, was readjusting your beanie so your hair didn’t get in your face. this pissed him off, strike two of his patience gone. riki was the one who spent HOURS trying to crochet you that beanie last year and now he’s going to have to make you another one because discount ricky’s grimy hands touched it! riki felt his eye twitch, he ended up making eye contact with the boy next to you. a smirk ghosting his features.

riki wanted to kick his shin under the table or maybe throw his hot coffee-

“i think we should also choose one of monet’s less known works aswe- oh ouch…” you mumbled rubbing your hands, whenever you wrote or sketched too long your hands would hurt. riki always took notice of this so he looked up proper hand massages- safe to say he could be certified- WHAT THE SHIT?

discount ricky grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

strike three

“can you get your hands off her?!” riki finally snapped, “god at this point it’s revolting! i’m right in front of both of you!”

your eyes widened as you watched you best friend actually lose his temper, yeah you’d seen him bicker but this was different.

“what are you two dating?” ricky asked, if you were in a tv show you’d see the angry lightening bolt hit both of them. this was not good, you quickly packed your bags and grabbed your best friend. apologizing to your project partner.

“what’s his fucking problem?!” riki stomped through the fresh snow to your car.

“what’s his problem?! what’s your problem? what the hell was that?! are you okay?!” you had a million questions. and they were flying out.

“i- what- how is this my fault!? he had his grimy discount ricky hands all over you! only i’m allowed to do that as your best friend!”

it was really hard to take him seriously as you finally got to the car laughing. you leaned against the hood trying to catch your breath.

“y/n this isn’t funny!” he stood right next to you.

you finally caught your breath, “i’m sorry where did the nickname discount ricky come from?”

“well obviously i’m the better one way more deserving of, um hello, touching your hair, massaging your hands because im youtube certified, AND THE COLD HANDS THING?! he was flirting with you shamelessly in front of me!” riki swung his arms around like a crazy person trying to explain that the end was near.

your hat fell slightly as you laughed again which riki fixed gently before speaking again, “then he’d smirk at me like he knew he was getting on my nerves! like that discount version of ME KNEW HE WAS MAKING ME ANGRY!”

“should i take my hat off and give you sanitizer? since you touched my discount ricky infected beanie?” you asked, unlocking the car and throwing your backpack in the back. you turned around and bumped into riki.

“actually yeah take off that hat. i will sanitize it and crochet you a new one.” riki grabbed the hat off your head and gave you his own beanie.

“should i sanitize my hands too?” you asked giggling, going to open your door but slipping on black ice.

riki immediately caught you, “um guess who couldn’t catch you- discount ricky. i’m clearly better for you so.”

you started laughing again, hitting his chest playfully, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“is that a bad thing?” riki asked quickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

you shook your head no, “it’s cute.”

riki smiled down at you; it was obvious he was at least a little smug.

“you know what he didn’t contaminate?” you asked, still giggling, your eyes flickered from riki’s eyes to his lips. immediately he got the hint and took his chance.

discount ricky is out and nishimura riki hit a home run

2K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 4 months

Text

Dead Disco / Chapter 12

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Creampie. oral sex - fem receiving. Angst. Crying. So many feelings. Relationship issues. Eating/food issues. Brief suicidal ideation. Toxic behavior. Complicated dynamics. We're getting close to the end. You make a decision

“Knock, knock.” Your coworker hangs on the door frame, fingers clutching a brown paper bag and soda cup. “There’s a truck out front, for lunch. I guess they’re buying every Friday for the rest of the year?”

“Oh, yeah.” You vaguely remember seeing that email. You think.

“Anyway, they’re just wrapping up now and I didn’t see you go down, just wanted to make sure you knew.” She means well, you know she does. She’s always very kind to you, so you smile warmly and nod.

“I did, thanks.” She makes herself scarce after that, vacating your office with another pleasantry, leaving you to stew behind your desk, trying very hard not to look at what you packed yourself this morning, a lackluster sandwich, a cluster of green grapes. The idea of eating turns your stomach, the feeling piling onto the depths of your uneasiness, pushing you to seek comfort.

You can't bring yourself to eat, but you know you have to. You know you should be, aware you cannot survive on the same three half bites of things alone.

If they were here...

You glance at your phone.

Stop this.

You flip it facedown, turning your attention back to your laptop. Focus, you have actual work to do.

The bath has gone from scalding your skin off hot, to lukewarm too quickly. It urges you to get out, tells you it’s well past time, that if you headed to bed right now, you’d still be able to manage five hours before your alarm went off.

Fat chance.

Instead, you drain the tub. The porcelain turns to ice within a matter of moments, and you linger in the shiver, languishing in the discomfort, muscles tense, stomach sour. You nearly let yourself rot in it, knees tucked up close, goosebumps long erupted over every square inch of your skin.

You close your eyes as the tub refills, steaming water rushing out from the tap, slowly covering your feet, then your shins, until it’s deep enough for you to lean back in again, submerging yourself as deep as possible.

What are they doing right now? Are they working? Are they at home? Do they miss you? Is there someone-

No.

You’re not supposed to be… fixating on this. You’re supposed to be taking some time, thinking about what you want, what you think is best for you. This is what you wanted. You decided this.

You asked for this.

Why can’t you detangle yourself from them?

Everything twists and turns inside your brain, spinning together into a murky morass that you can’t make sense of, but it’s nothing compared to the agony in your heart. An infected, weeping, organ that sits heavy inside your chest cavity, now with a giant hole in the middle.

You don’t even notice when the first drops of water spill over the side, eyes fixed on the ceiling. You picked this rental for the tub. It’s massive, the biggest you’ve ever seen, and the cost to secure it for the entire month was probably more than you could afford on your own, but… it’s not like you haven’t made bad decisions in the past.

The water sloshes.

“Fuck.” You flip off the spigot in a hurry and sink back beneath the water, letting it flow over your mouth, your nose.

You could-

You could take a deep breath, fill your lungs with water.

You could turn it off.

You could make everything stop. You could just close your eyes and… rest.

“Johnny.” You breathe, surprised. Your heart bellows, begs you to fling yourself into his arms, but warning bells go off in the back of your mind, and you chew on your lip. He shouldn’t be here. They agreed. They promised. “What-“

“Ah had to see ye.” What if something has happened? You look him over, but he seems fine. What if something is wrong with Simon?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong-“

“Then why are you here?” It’s harsh. You cringe at the tone, at how it's so caustic, so careless, and he rubs the back of his neck, shifting unsteadily on his feet. Your resolve starts to melt, turning reticent, falling away into a slick puddle of weak opposition. He’s here. He still loves you. He’s here.

“I know ‘m not supposed to be doing this.” He mutters, and you nod. “But… we- I miss ye darling, miss ye so much.” His cheeks are red, turning his normally tan skin a deep rogue, and he swallows between breaths. “Are ye alright? Ye look… ye look tired, love.”

“I am tired, Johnny… I’m…”

He steps forward.

You step back.

It’s like you’re looking in a mirror.

His eyes are rimmed in stress, skin beneath them sallow, and he sags in a way that tells you he hasn’t been sleeping, bones and muscles not doing much except keeping him upright. Tears build behind your eyes, and they burn through the tip of your nose until you can’t hold them back anymore, raw agony in the form of a serrated blade cutting through your sense.

“This isn’t fair.” You cry. “Why are you here? You’re not- you’re not supposed to be here, Johnny.” His face changes, spirals through one hundred different things in the span of a second, half of them you can name. He’s still your Johnny, still the same, and you’ve never felt so homesick in your entire life, eyes stuck on the exposed skin just above his collar.

Johnny.

Your Johnny.

Simon’s Johnny.

“Please… dinnae cry, darling. I’m sorry, I-“

“You’re so selfish.” You don’t know why you say it. It just comes out, flying from your mouth on its own. His head snaps backwards like you’ve struck him, features shifting into panic.

“No, no I’m sorry-“ A spiral swirls, sucking you in, dragging you under, and you shake your head.

“Just… just… shut up. Please.” You whisper, fingers stretching out into the space between your bodies, tugging on the edge of his shirt. “Shut up.” The demand has more backbone now, and he blinks, confused. You can feel his heat, warm skin and breath vibrating away from his body into yours, tugging you closer and closer as you’re tipping your head back, heart overflowing with an insane, chaotic mix of emotions. You feel like you could fling yourself off the top of the tallest building in this city, and he’d still find a way to catch you.

He'd always find a way.

They both would.

“Darling-“ He's worried, rife with it, imbued with the sense of a logical man, but you don't care. You can't. You're already on a path, already made a decision, anticipated an outcome. And now... you want it.

Rules be damned.

“Kiss me.”

“I understand how you feel.”

“No you don’t!” You turn your back on him, shaking your head. “You don’t, Simon. You don’t know how it felt to sit there and listen to that doctor call Johnny your HUSBAND! How it was to realize you two are married! It was like… it was like I don’t even exist! Like I’m a footnote, in your story.”"

"We're not, I told-"

"I know what you said. It doesn't change anything. Married in the eyes of your fucking boss and your entire life is as good as being married."

“You are not some footnote in our story. You are a part of us, love.” You haul one of the blankets off the back of the couch and try to cram it into the duffel.

“Darling, we dinnae want ye to leave.”

“Johnny.” Simon hisses, turning to where the other part of your heart lurks inside the bedroom doorframe. “Don’t talk right now. You’ve done enough.”

“I’m sorry, I said I was sorry, I wouldnae-“

“Stop.” Simon snaps, and Johnny breaks, eyes filling with tears, frustrated fingers tearing into his hair before he stomps off, bathroom door slamming so loud it could rattle the entire flat.

Your head hurts. It throbs, pulse banging around under your skin, and the walls are too close, or too tall, everything is too much. You want to sleep. You want to disappear under a heap of blankets and close your eyes. You don’t want to face this, face either of them.

You should have just kept walking. Should have stayed outside, shouldn’t have come back. Then you wouldn’t have had to do any of this.

“Don’t cry.” Simon whispers. “Don’t cry, darling, please. It’s alright.” You hadn’t realized you were crying, but when he steps close, tapping his forehead to yours, strong arms holding you tight to his chest, you feel the wet stain on your cheeks, the heaviness of your lashes.

“It hurts too much, sometimes.” You whisper, and he nods.

“I know.”

“Fuck.” Your mug from breakfast tips over, rolling towards the sink, and you vaguely register the brown trickle of coffee that spills over the side.

“I’ll clean it up,” Johnny’s mouth sucks a mark into your belly, shoving the rest of items that sit next to you away, either to the floor or across the countertop, hiking your knee up in their place. “later. Promise.” He’s still working himself lower, biting and kiss and snarling against your skin, strong, scorching hands spreading your thighs so he can bury his face in your underwear.

“Oh-“

“Darling.” He groans, and you scramble, trying to pull them free, trying to push him closer to where you ache, already wet, desperate and out of your mind. You want him to crawl inside you, stitch himself to your skin and devour you whole.

“Johnny, Johnny.” The world vibrates in a million different colors, and you fist his hair, pushing yourself up to his face.

“I’ve got ye. Gon’ make ye feel good, love.” He does. He does every time, and this is no different, the way his hands cup you, the stroke of his tongue against your clit, the way he buries himself as far as he can, eating your twitching cunt as you lay flat on your back atop your own kitchen counter, begging him to make you come.

Is this wrong? Is it? Are you betraying yourself? Are you betraying him?

Are you betraying Simon?

It’s too much. It hurts too much.

You need it turned off. You need your entire brain powered down, need to not think or feel or cry about anything for just a second, for a single second of this almost thirty days.

Johnny moves, teeth nipping at your neck, and you meet his lips with your own, panting against him, holding him in your arms just like you’ve been dreaming about.

“I need you.” You whimper, and he nods, a thumb against your cheek. “Please, I- I want… I want you inside me,” your voice hitches higher, delirious, and insane. “Please, Johnny. Please.” Turn it off, turn it off, turn it-

“C’mere, c’mon, love.” He brings you to the edge of the counter, touching you so sweetly, so gently, like you’re a fragile treasure sort of thing, something to be revered, to be cared for.

You’re none of those things. Not now. Not ever.

It’s a mess, a tangled, fumbled mess of your mouth and his, your hands and his, clothes, teeth, hair. You claw at his back as he frees his cock, one foot on the corner, spread wide for him, and it takes nearly no time until he’s breaching you, heavy hardness pushing into you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut with a groan.

“Bleedin’ christ.” He takes his time, takes it slow, reintroducing you to a feeling that you could never forget, the pressure of his cock notching against your cervix, the fullness and weight of having him seated inside you. It’s so good, like home, like something you could spend the rest of your life with, or the rest of your life chasing, and you barely register the words he is whispering into the side of your face, spit and sweat and tears all running together.

Something's missing. Something's off. Something is missing, it's missing, it's-

“Move… p-please-“

“F-fuck.” He hisses. “Feel so fuckin’ good, darling. So perfect… missed ye, missed ye so much.” He babbles, pinning your hips in place, tendons in his forearms flexing as he thrusts harder and faster, moving your bodies together. “I love ye, cannae live w’out ye, darling. We cannae do it.” His fingers trace around his cock and then to your clit, where he starts to circle and rub the swollen bud exactly as you like it, muscle memory guiding his touch in just the right way, allowing him to drag you to another impending orgasm, cunt clenching down around him. “Ah fuck, that’s it. Squeezin’ me, ye-“

“Johnny.” You cry, and he kisses you, insistently, deeply, sealing you off from any air that isn’t his own, covering you entirely with his body, grinding his hips.

Your orgasm explodes between the two of you, and he shouts when he feels it, clutching you too tightly, chasing his own with a vigor that makes you stutter. Your legs jolt, closing around him, anchoring him, tying him to you, his body going rigid when he fills you with his cum.

Your kitchen is dead silent except for the echo of ragged breathing, sweat dotted skin and shaky hands still languishing together, aftershocks sizzling through your belly.

"Are ye.. are ye alright?" He kisses you, kisses your cheek, your temple, still holding onto your hand, cock still lodged deep inside of you, his cum leaking out between your legs.

Are you alright? Are you?

Your chest feels tight, brain desperately trying to catch up, heart bleeding inside your chest.

"Darling? Hey, look at me." He shifts, cupping your jaw and you blink at him, mouth moving without words.

You wallow there, in the silence, in the little space that exists in this moment, in the in-between.

Neither of you speak. He pulls back to cradle your face, and you see the tears again, fat ones that roll down his cheeks, illuminating the brilliant blue blaze of his eyes.

What have you done?

You stare at each other. Realization starts to form, panic fluttering in the ache between your ribs.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh god, oh what did you do, what did you-

The shrill shriek of his cellphone interrupts, forcing both of you to turn to look at the screen that proudly displays the name of the caller.

Simon.

#peaches writes #dead disco #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #soap x ghost x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader

734 notes · View notes

agirlcandream84 · 2 months

Note

he fucks you too hard and you cry x reader w frank?

Thank you for the request! I almost feel bad for Frankie writing this! But I will anyway :)

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,710

Minors DNI. ----------------

Stop. The word popped in your head with your knees smashed into your chest as Frank fucked you so hard that you felt the skin on the back of your thighs and ass grow tender and raw. Frank had your calves hugged to his chest, a bulky arm wrapped around your shins, as the slam of his hips left your hands scrambling for purchase in the bunched up sheets.

You had never established a safe word with Frank. The idea of it seemed almost silly. A word to keep you safe from Frank? The man was safety personified. He worshipped the ground you walked on. He protected you from things that didn't need protecting. He put you first, always. It wasn't as though you didn't want one with him, the idea of it had just never crossed your mind.

In fact, you typically loved Frank's restrained power during sex. You craved his passion and even a little pain-- sex with Frank was often not without its marks. His calloused hand squeezing the smooth silk of your neck. A stinging slap to your ass as Frank filled you thoroughly from behind. A firm tug to your hair, your back arching to grant access that much deeper. It was the implicit trust and safety with him that made these moments possible at all.

But in this moment, Frank's brows furrowed, his grunts erratic and laced with something like anger, all you could think was stop. You had already cum, twice and hard, but Frank was relentless tonight. You had sensed the set of his jaw when he came home after a meeting with Billy but he shrugged it off with a "nah, nuthin' a pretty girl like you needs to worry about." But you knew he was still bothered, catching him in a stare while his thumb drummed on the countertop.

Truthfully, you were already feeling sensitive. Your favorite dress from last season was feeling more snug than normal and you had gotten into an argument with a product manager at work. And maybe you weren't exactly in the mood for sex but the way Frank tugged you close after the shower, his nose taking a deep inhale of your freshly washed hair and his hand easily unknotting the towel around your chest, you let yourself be persuaded with his touch.

Frank will make it better. He always does.

What you craved was softness tonight. Reverence. Those nights were Frank spent what felt like hours with his face buried between your legs, only coming up for air to coo at how fucking good you tasted. Or something like slow morning sex, with your leg draped over his hip, him dragging his cock slowly in and out from behind you, his fingers giving your clit the attention it needed until you were a sleepy, smiley puddle of goo in his hands.

But what you got was different. And maybe if it were any other day you'd cum for the third time and beg him to go harder. But it was today and now and all you could think was stop. Please stop. Tears well in the corners of your eyes and you reach your hands to press against the tops of his thighs, an attempt to slow the force of him. To gain just a moment to catch your breath.

Frank misses the cue, mumbling "Fuck sweetheart," as he grips your legs and lifts your ass an inch off the bed, his pace quickening to a pound-pound-pound-pound so that your body feels annihilated and used.

The sob chokes out of your mouth almost involuntarily. Your hand flying to cover your face as you beg him to "stop, stop, stop."

Immediately he stops. A "fuck" flying out of his mouth, his brows twisted in confusion and he calls your name and bends to scoop you gently from the bed. Once the floodgates have opened you find the crying hard to control, your mouth gulping for air as your chest heaves.

Frank twists to sit on the bed with you held firmly in his lap, brushing the hair out of your face to find your eyes. Pleading evident in his tone as he says, "Fuck, you gotta talk to me doll. I hurt you? Did I hurt you baby?" as he rocks you slowly back and forth, the motion meant to soothe you and him.

"S-s-s-sorry," you attempt to start, the gulping breaths still winning over, "didn't feel it right."

"It didn't feel right sweetheart. I believe you. It didn't feel right," he repeats back, still swaying back and forth, his eyes darting around the room in panic. He makes to shift you slightly and you hiss, the movement aggravating the tender skin of your thighs and ass.

"Fuck fuck fuck." he mumbles to himself, assessing his damage, "Hurts there doll?" he asks and you nod your head.

"sensitive," you mumble, casting a glance up to his eyes for the first time and seeing the crumpled, devastated look on his face.

"Ok if I take a look sweetheart?" he asks, his voice so soft you barely him hear. "Would that be alright?"

"uh-huh," you nod and he gingerly shifts you in this lap to peak at the backs of your thighs and your ass, the skin angry and chapped. He lets a slow breath out of his mouth, an attempt to steady the bubbling rage directed inward. He'd find the time to hate himself later, right now he needed to make it right with you.

"Gonna lay you down on the bed, yeah?" he asks, meeting your eye again and nodding at you to confirm your agreement. You nod back and hold tight to his neck as he twists to face the bed and gently lay you stomach-down, avoiding the tender skin. He guides a pillow just along your side so you can hug it, propping your body on its side, positioning your top leg to drape across the pillow. He reaches for the lotion off the bedside table and takes three big pumps before working it between his hands.

"Need you to take a few deep breaths for me honey. Might sting for a minute but's gonna help, alright?" he instructs, his tone soft. You nod and squeeze your eyes shut at the slight sting of the cool lotion as Frank starts to delicately work it into your chaffed skin. "Doin' so well sweetheart," he offers, "almost done."

Once he's finished he tugs the blanket up to cover your form, again fixing the hair out of your face. "Sweetheart I-- " he starts but stops, releasing a deep breath. "Fuck sweetheart, I'm so sorry. So fuckin' sorry," he adds, an agitated hand swiping down his face as he kneels on the ground in front of the bed to be eye level with you.

"Frankie s'okay," you reply quietly, "I'm ok. Promise. Just...had a bad day. Feel so stupid," you add.

"Hey hey, no, none of that doll. I.... I got too rough," he says, shaking his head as if to rid it of the memory, "I fucked up. You don't deserve shit like that."

"Lay with me?" you ask, "please." He felt so far away. Despite the proceedings, Frank felt like the only safe space. You craved his dependable solidness. The safety of his arms engulfing you.

"You sure you want that sweetheart?" he asks, his thumb skimming your cheekbone and his eyes searching your face. You nod and grasp his hand, mumbling another "please" before he climbs in gingerly behind you, his body cupping yours and a big hand making long, slow circles on your back.

You weren't sure when you had dozed off but when you woke, Frank wasn't there. You gather the blanket around your naked body and pad into the living room, Frank seated in silence, the room dark but for the streetlight, jumping to his feet the minute you step into the room.

"What's the matter sweetheart? You alright?" he asks urgently, standing in front of you in three long strides and his hands landing on your hips. "Somethin' hurt?," he adds, his eyes raking over your form.

"No I just...." you trail off. "Don't do this. Please," you plead, beckoning Frank off the edge of self-loathing that he teetered on.

"I'm not -- you're not safe with me sweetheart. That's the truth," he rumbles, matter of fact but his toned laced with disgust. You bristle at his statement, the fallacy of it striking and obvious.

"Bullshit," you respond, his eyes snapping to yours. "That's bullshit and you know it," you assert, feeling indignant that Frank let indulgent self-loathing threaten the safe space you'd both created.

"It's not fucking bullshit," Frank retorts, anger fueling him, almost mad that you won't hate him as much as he hates himself. "I did this," he says spinning your body and lifting the blanket, the product of his effort on display. "Me. Fucked you like a monster and I hurt you. I hurt the woman I love," he adds, his voice close to shouting.

"Say it again," you ask him, refusing to look away from him.

"I fuckin' hurt you!" he shouts back.

"No, the other part," you demand.

"The woman I love," he says, his voice still raised but the simmering rage dissipating.

"Say it again," you reply.

"The woman I love," he responds, softening. "The woman I fucking love. Fuck sweetheart. Fuck I never wanna fuckin' hurt you but that's what I do. I get people hurt," he adds, the vulnerability cracking through. The rage and self loathing only flimsy shield to keep terrifying vulnerability at bay.

"I'm not afraid of you Frank. I'm not afraid with you. I'm safe with you. And I love you," you murmur, your hands handing on either side of his face, fingertips tickling in the bristle on his jaw.

His neck cranes down to lean his forehead against yours, his hands making their way back around your waist to tug you closer. "Don't wanna hurt you like that again," he says.

You nod in agreement, and he adds, "Need you to speak up too ok? Gotta tell me how you're feelin', yeah?" and you nod again before his big hand cups your jaw and you let your eyes fall shut.

"Come on sweetheart, lemme take care of you," he murmurs, bending to gently lift you from behind the knees and supporting your back and walking to the bedroom.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

439 notes · View notes

bangtanflirt · 9 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 1)

I'm finally showing up in tags again woohoo! 🥳 Thank you guys for your patience!

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: needles, torture collars, misogyny in the workplace, probably very inaccurate business talk (pls suspend disbelief lmao)

____

The day starts off as typical as any other, with your assistant bringing you your morning coffee. You mindlessly take a sip while scrolling through your emails, except what welcomes your lips isn’t the usual Americano, but some Iced Matcha abomination—disgustingly too sweet for nine o’clock in the morning. You look up, ready to give Assistant Min a piece of your mind, but instead see a woman in his place.

“Who are you?”

The woman flashes you a nervous smile, hands fiddling in front of her stomach.

“Yoongi-ssi had an emergency, so I’m filling in. I’m the new hire, S—”

“I don’t care what your name is, this isn’t my coffee order. Bring me my Americano before my first meeting.”

“I’m so sorry! I was taking orders for all the executives, so I got confused. I’ll bring it asap!”

She runs off, feet clicking with each hurried step of her heels.

You toss the unnaturally green drink in the trash, annoyed at the setback in your morning routine. After shooting a quick "Are you okay?" text to Yoongi, you're back to your work.

Emails pile up in your inbox as they do every morning, mountains of classified information that you need to comb through before your 10am meeting. It’s tedious, but it’s the family business after all. Your grandfather started Shin Investments in the forties, and your dad took the business to new heights when he took over, now with your parents retired and on some island in god-knows-where, it’s up to you to make sure the company doesn’t lose its footing in the venture capitalist industry.

It's twenty minutes later when your Americano does arrive. Your eyes narrow into slits upon holding the cup in your hands.

“It’s lukewarm.”

“Oh my god, I apologize! Mr. Han stopped me on the way here, briefing me about what to prep for the afternoon meeting. I did not mean to take so long! I’ll heat it up and bring it back.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“No need. You’re fired.”

The woman almost stumbles on air at your words, catching her balance quickly.

“Miss Shin p-please..I really need this job! I won’t make a single mistake from now on!”

“Too late.” You reach for the cup, the second one of the day to end up in the trash. “Please leave before I call security. I have work to do and no caffeine to help me.”

She doesn’t leave, but rather falls to her knees, waterworks in full effect. You let out a irritated huff.

“Please! Please, I need this!”

You don’t pay the commotion any attention, used to such scenes happening in your office by now. You simply dial security.

Your receptionist watches the new girl get dragged out, eyes sympathetic as she’s tossed right in front of the front desk.

“She-she fired me…all for a cup of coffee…I’ve worked so hard to get into this company and she just…for a fucking cup of coffee!”

Mascara stains a black rim around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry Seulgi-shi. You don’t deserve that.”

“M-maybe I should go beg for a second chance after some time has passed? What if I come back in the eve—”

“You’ll be wasting your time. That would’ve worked with the previous bosses…but Miss Shin is as tough as it gets. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve seen countless people get fired for less than a cup of coffee—dragged out here just like you.”

You overhear the conversation, as the security guard didn’t properly close the door on their way out. You can’t say it makes you feel all that good, crushing some fresh-faced new hire’s dreams, but it sends a message. You knew what you had to do once the company was signed over for you—how you had to conduct yourself to survive. The world of venture capitalism was cutthroat to say the least, and still considered “not women’s business” by many. The sad reality was that, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you’d have to be feared—because respected was rarely an option. So, you play your role well and let the rumor mill do the rest, so everyone knows not to mess with the ruthless bitch of a CEO at Shin Investments.

You walk into the meeting room and the vibe immediately changes: the once lively room of everyone asking each other how their weekends went turns silent enough to hear a feather fall. Only sound is that of your red-bottoms click-clacking and earrings jingling. You take your seat, motioning for the standing executives to do the same. They can tell you’re more irritated than usual, and that could easily mean a demotion with one wrong move.

“Everyone’s here so let’s jump into it: where are we with HoloPad?”

“We’re at the audit stage ma’am.”

“Still?”

The tension in the air is palpable.

“Th-there’s been some—erm—gap in the books. They are working on fixing it right now.”

“So they’re cooking the books?”

“I-uh-I wouldn’t say—”

“Calling it something else isn’t going to change the fact that they’re cooking the books Mr.Choi. Call off the deal.”

The executives stare at each other with dumbfounded faces, hushed complaints erupting at the table.

“But ma’am…the CEO is the heir of Jun Tech…it’s not advisable to ruin our relationship with them.”

A bunch of others chime in with the same sentiment, and you have the room of men turned against you as usual.

“Is that so Mr.Choi? Do you really advise me to invest millions into a venture that can’t even provide proper financial records? All to avoid making the Jun family angry? Mind I remind you that this is a business, not a family drama?”

“It’s just—”

“And all of you who agree with Mr.Choi here…don’t think I don’t notice the new watches on your wrists. Can’t be a coincidence, can it? Everyone who wants to continue with the deal happening to buy the newest Jun Tech watches at the same time?”

Five people, including Choi, scramble to take off their watches, heads down in shame.

You let out a hollow laugh. “You all are too dumb to even be bribed properly, I can’t believe it! Anyways, I expect five letters of resignation on my desk by tomorrow morning. This is me extending my grace for all the work you’ve done in the company so far, but if you don’t voluntarily leave, I will not hesitate to disgracefully remove you.”

That’s the last thing you say before click-clacking your heels out the room, not missing the outbursts of “bitch” and various other insults blaring from the other side of the door as soon as you leave.

It’s moments like these when you just want to call your father and have him step in to help, but you can’t. You can’t be seen as a fragile little daddy’s girl in a room full of bloodthirsty businessmen. You keep your composure until you’re in the comfort of your office, where you let yourself decompress for a minute. Only a minute, though, because your receptionist is soon knocking at your door to remind you of a charity event tonight—a reminder that would’ve come from the temporary assistant if you had not fired her an hour before.

___

The charity auction seems standard, with the usual crowd flaunting off their rare pieces of art and jewelry under the guise of doing something good. You’re not in a place to judge too much, considering you’re also here doing the same thing. You are the only one who seems to see how ridiculous it all is though, for the little that’s worth.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

You’re immediately swept up into various groups of people wanting to “catch-up” (aka keep in your good graces for their next business venture).

Yup. A typical day.

Until Kang Byung-hun approaches you with that same condescending smile he gives you at every event. He’s a short, plump man, a little bit older in age than your father, and he’s a complete pain in your ass. The not-so-subtle jabs during formal dinners, gossiping behind your back, and overall misogynistic world-view makes you want to tear out your hair every time you see him.

“Mr.Kang!” You say in the cheeriest tone, smiling wide. He’s a pain, but he’s got a lot of influence, and you’d be an idiot to dismiss that.

“Ah Y/N. I see you’ve done yourself up for this event. On the lookout for a husband, are we?”

You keep your smile through gritted teeth.

“Just looking my best for the noble cause, sir.”

“I’m sure.”

The wait staff comes around with wine at just the right time, because god knows you can’t deal with this without at least some alcohol in you.

“Oh, I actually do have some business with you. Are you down to talk in private a bit later?”

“Why wait? Let’s talk now.” You’d rather just get it over with.

“It requires some preparation. Have to make a few calls and get some things here. I was going to put on a nice presentation in your office, but now’s a good as time as any!”

“Sounds good sir.”

What you wouldn’t give to just go home, take off these uncomfortable heels, and just face-plant on your soft bed right now. But nope, you have to wait around for this jack-ass to put on his little show. As much as he dismisses you, Kang Byung-hun is no idiot when it comes to business. Whatever his newest idea is, he knows Shin Investments is the best option for financing—especially in the bad state of the market right now.

So an hour before the party is supposed to end, you get a tap on your shoulder by Kang’s assistant, and promptly follow her to one of the spare rooms at the venue. Kang sits with a glass of champagne in hand, flashing a smile that you can’t stand. You take a seat across the circular table.

“We already exchanged pleasantries earlier, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I just got the patent for a new piece of revolutionary technology, and I’d like for Shin Investments to finance the project.”

“What type of technology are we talking?”

“How aware are you with the current market for hybrids, Y/N?”

You shrug nonchalantly. Honestly, the topic of hybrids makes you uncomfortable, as you think of it as unethical to own anything even remotely human, but you keep your personal preferences to yourself.

“I know it’s a booming industry, especially in the last three years. And I know the market is big for training tech right now.”

“Precisely!” He beams. “Training technology is in high demand. You saw how much of a hit the snake hybrid calming diffuser by Pet Armor was. Sold out in minutes! Not to mention raised the demand for snake hybrids in general. That’s when I knew I had to get in on the action and expand to the hybrid market.”

“So is that what it is? Is Pet Paradise launching its own diffuser? For a different type of hybrid?”

He shakes his head, “Nope. You know how I like to do things big, Y/N. A new hybrid diffuser is too small of a scale. What we’re creating will change the hybrid market forever.” He ends with a snap of his fingers, to which his assistant takes cue.

Before you can even process what’s going on, a leashed wolf hybrid is brought into the room.

Your attention immediately goes to the bulky metal collar around his neck, filled with buttons and stats.

“Meet Jungkook, one of the hybrids we’re beta-testing on. That magnificent thing around his neck is the Obedience Collar, and it’s going to blow your mind.”

You feel sick, dinner threatening to come up your throat the sight. The boy looks no older than twenty-one, and has more fear in his eyes than you thought possible. He’s trembling, eyes trained on the floor, trying to make himself small in the big room.

“Now, it’s no secret that wolf hybrids are amongst the hardest to train, that’s why they make the perfect subjects for this,” his assistant hands you an iPad as he talks, “first, I’d like for you to watch a video of Jungkook before he started wearing the Obedience Collar.”

You reluctantly click play, seeing the wolf hybrid with so much life in his eyes. Life and anger. He’s growling and punching his way through a team of researchers, thrashing around for his dear life.

“What a violent and unsophisticated creature he used to be!”

You have to consciously unclench your fists, making sure not to show your true feelings. It’s excruciating to sit there and listen when all you want to do is see how Kang would like it if a group of strangers got their hands on him like that.

“But now, with Pet Paradise’s newest invention, he’s the most timid little thing you could own!”

“A shock collar? Hybrid shock collars are already a thing, Mr.Kang.”

Your voice shakes slightly, and you hope no one notices.

“No no, that’s not what this is. A shock collar is a good training tool, of course, but it’s not the most efficient way to train a hybrid. If you swipe on that iPad, you’ll see the design of this collar is far advanced.”

So you hold your breath and swipe.

And whatever you’re expecting, it’s worse.

This isn’t a normal collar by any means, as proven by the product shots. The inside is lined with thin needles, which you can’t see as they are quite literally jammed into Jungkook’s neck right now.

Holy fuck.

“You see, Y/N, the Obedience Collar works from the inside. The collar is supplied with our newly developed synthetic hormones, which are injected into the bloodstream through the needles. The hormones are specifically structured to work with the DNA of most mammal hybrids, and can even make something as unruly as a wolf hybrid behave. The changes take effect within fifteen minutes of collaring! There’s a little hormone pack in the back of the collar,” he motions for Jungkook to turn around, and the boy obeys instantly, showing the rectangular box in the back of the collar, “those will need to be refilled every six months—which we’ll sell separately, so the business model is more than sustainable. Isn’t this a gold mine of an opportunity?”

Keep calm Y/N. Breathe. Compose yourself.

“Very impressive stuff,” you force out, “but I’m not sure Shin Investments is the right fit for this project. Wouldn’t you want a partner more familiar with the hybrid market?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, Y/N. What kind of venture capitalist is afraid of diversifying their portfolio? You can’t survive this industry if you only play in familiar territory—your grandfather and father both know this very well. Besides, I heard a rumor that the deal with Jun’s son won’t be going through. I’m sure the board members are having low morale right now…so why not appease them with an even better deal?”

You can’t stand the way he chastises you. What you can’t stand even more is that, from a business perspective, he’s making sense. You know a lucrative business when you see one, and this is definitely one of those. And as unintuitive as it seems, it’s all legal. Hybrid abuse isn’t really a thing the government concerns itself with, which is why the only real law is not to intentionally kill one, and even that is enforced loosely. There’s no rules being broken, no shady deals, just a proposal as legal as the meeting you had two days ago where a start-up pitched their new smart fridge. Except this time it’s not a smart fridge you’re discussing, it’s the life of a very scared and no doubt in pain hybrid, that’s standing less than five feet away from you.

Kang sees the gears in your head turning as you find any way to refuse this deal for a rational reason. So he starts playing his game of mind-chess once again, a game he’d mastered since before you were even born.

“Look, I’ll be frank with you. If you were any other woman, I wouldn’t even consider bringing this deal to you. Because we both know most women tend to be too emotional to do good business. But you’re not like that—hell, you’ve got more backbone than half the men at this party. So, what’s stopping you?”

There it was. The emotional card. The thing you were most concerned about, how showing even one ounce of emotion could be blown out of proportion because of your gender. You’ve worked too damn hard to create your reputation, and that’s why the next words out of your mouth spill before you can even think about it.

“You’re right, I was being too cautious. Let’s start with the proper procedures during work hours.”

Shit. He got you. Checkmate.

The man’s face erupts in the sleaziest grin possible.

“Perfect! You won’t regret this, it’s going to be big! In fact, I have one more surprise for you!”

You raise your brows, not needing anymore fucking surprises tonight.

“It’s Jungkook! He’s yours for the month!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that statement.

“Excuse me?!”

“It’s a token of our appreciation. You get to be the first ever person to own a hybrid with an Obedience Collar! You can see first-hand how remarkable the technology is. There’s five others from his pack that we can continue our tinkering on, so one less won’t hurt us. Don’t worry, the synthetic hormone part is fully developed, we’re just trying to make the collar look sleeker.”

It’s not uncommon nor unethical for you to be gifted prototypes. Businesses love giving you a taste of what you’re putting your money into, as a way to give you confidence in the product and maybe even open up possibilities for a bigger investment. But you’d never thought someone would give you a fucking hybrid.

You almost open your mouth to decline, saying something along the lines of not wanting the responsibility of a hybrid…but then something comes over you. You realize that declining means sending Jungkook back to the lab—and you just can’t bring yourself to do that. The damage you’re going to be doing by investing in this collar is going to be devastating as it is, no doubt making you the indirect torturer of many hybrids to come, but in some twisted sense of morality—you want to at least save the one in front of your eyes. Maybe even pretend that you have some good left in you.

“Thank you. I’d love to take him.”

___

The car ride back is silent and tense. Jungkook hasn’t said a single word, much less lifted his head to even look at you. He’s still trembling in the passenger seat. You have zero clue how to approach the situation. It’s not like you can take off the collar, as it’s a prototype with data still being transferred to the lab. You agreed to take him home to give him a better life, but you haven’t exactly thought far enough ahead as to how; judging by how scared he is right now, you know this isn’t going to be easy.

It's midnight when you reach home, and all you want to do is sleep. But you can’t yet, not until Jungkook is settled in. You lead him to a spare bedroom; it’s incredibly spacious and practically decorated for royalty, with a king-sized bed right in the center.

“This is where you’ll be staying.”

You see his head lift up for the first time, doe eyes scanning the room in disbelief.

“It’s late so we’ll talk more tomorrow, but for now sleep here. I don’t have nightclothes for you yet, so just sleep in what you’re wearing for the night. There are water bottles on the nightstand if you get thirsty. Do you need anything else before I head to bed?”

He adamantly shakes his head no, prompting you to exit. However, right as you’re about to walk out the door, you hear rumbling. More specifically, his stomach is rumbling. You turn back around.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

No response.

“If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.”

Those words seem to turn some gears in his head, as he utters his first words of the night.

“I’m hungry Miss.”

It catches you off guard how quickly he gets the words out, much different from the no-speaking rule he had enacted on himself up until now.

That’s when the realization hits you.

If you’re hungry, you need to tell me.

It sounds like a command, and that damn Obedience Collar is sure to make him comply.

You let out a defeated sigh before guiding him to the kitchen. Your cook has already called it a day, so you prepare one of the few things your tired brain can handle—frozen waffles. You toss them into a toaster, drizzle some syrup, and pile on a generous amount of whipped cream before pushing a plate in front of the awestruck boy.

“Eat up.”

With the eagerness in which he digs into the plate, you’re sure he’d be the same way without the direct command.

And that’s how your first night with Jungkook goes, with you making sure he’s fed and in his bed before heading to your own. You notice he’s trembling a little less. Baby steps.

____

A/N: If you're liking this fic, please let me know! I love and appreciate every interaction!

#bts ot7 x reader #hybrid bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #hurt/comfort #unnatural instincts

2K notes · View notes

katsumiiii · 11 months

Text

hobie brown x gn! reader

omg was at work and had a hugeeee hobie moment!!

hobie being a nuisance and popping up at your job. let’s say you work at a local pub right around the corner from his apartment complex, be sure to be on the look out for rabid hobies because he will come and beg for your attention.

he always thinks you look so cute in your uniform, a simple black tee and some tight jeans, you never really see the appeal but his gaze lingers appreciatively at the curve of your ass and the plush of your hips.

your coworkers think it’s so cute whenever he pops in, doing everything in his power to gain your attention for more than 30 seconds at a time, whether that be sending you a coy smirk, or looping his fingers between your belt buckles and pulling you in. his goal is always the same, wanting desperately to see that flustered look on your face, and he will get it, no matter the cost.

today the bar had been particularly empty. only a few customers toggled in and out, and they all had simple requests, a glass of beer and the check. the day went on without a hitch, night soon seeped in and you were starting to close down, checking out the last six individuals which sat at the bar.

“surprised hobie didn’t pop in today.” your coworker teased, brushing the side of your shoulder as you wiped off the countertop below you.

“shhh, don’t say his name, you’ll summon him.” you shuttered playfully, grinning at your quip.

“funny funny, so is he sick or wh—”

“wha’s going awn? who you havin’ a chat about?” speak of the fucking devil. you slowly tilted your head towards the seat in front of you and watch as hobie leans his upper body towards your own, sniffing as he licks his bottom lip, tongue clashing with metal.

“what the fuck?” your coworker cackled, shaking their head in disbelief.

“hobie, what a surprise.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“well you don’t sound too chuffed to see me, love.” hobie tapped his fingernails against the freshly wiped counter, his black polish (which you painted) shinning dimly from the lights above.

“well usually you’re here earlier so I didn’t know if you were coming to bother me or not.” you set an arm beneath you and placed your head against your palm.

“bother? didn’t know that’s what it was.” he shrugged his shoulders, inching his head closer to your slouched figure.

“really? then what would you call yourself?”

“your only source of entertainment. ‘m livenin’ up the place, a bit drab in here ain’t it?” hobie turned to observe the area around him, chuckling at the lack of customers.

“well we are supposed to be closed, bee.” you muttered, turning to place your cleaning supplies into an opened cabinet on your left.

“really? wouldn’t ‘ave guessed that.” he sucked his teeth at the sight of you bent over, nodding his head in appreciation. “why don’t you put that down and come gimme a kiss, hm? been waiting on one all night.”

“yeah, you say that every time you come see me.”

“don’t make it less true.”

#a little smt short #this was inspired by my bkg drabble #found this so cute #I’m getting the hang of writing hobie I feel like !#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #atsv x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brainrot !

2K notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 4 months

Text

back to you ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, oldmoney!reader, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.1k

Fixated from the moment he first saw you, Carlos stays missing someone whom he never even properly met. But that all seems to change one night when you unexpectedly show up to a business dinner.

req!... i'm such a liar lmaooo (iykyk). hope you enjoy, my lil anons :) hope this heals some of the heartbreak we all endured today !!(*bashes head against keyboard*)

It almost seemed like you had something up your sleeve, a tactic to retrieve all of his attention away from the camera shoved right in front of him - media duties.

“Hello guys, just wanted to come on here to say that I think we gave it all we could during today’s race but there is definitely always room for improvement…” Blah, blah, blah.

He can’t quite figure out what he’s saying because his brown eyes are attached to the pretty girl walking right in front of him. Not behind him, trying to catch up. Not besides him, begging for a photo. Nope, right in front of him as if you could care less that you have one of the most popular drivers to ever exist almost chasing after you.

He could hear you mumbling about God knows what to the girl walking besides you. The Spaniard feels like a total creep when it comes to him becoming more alert to possibly catch your name. As you were saying? The media team manager stares back expectantly once Carlos blanks out. Though it wasn’t that unusual.

The 29 year old flickers his gaze back to the camera and then back to where you were, only except, you’re gone. Out of sight and his heart stops for a nanosecond.

“Onto the next week. Vamos.”

“So then, you have your upcoming shoot for the new fireproofs, testing, stimulator - if we have time, interview at…”

Carlos tunes out as he blinks at the never ending list as if it were just another Monday. Charles nods attentively, though he also looks far too uninterested. They were exhausted.

“And dinner tonight to meet our new sponsors.”

“Another one?” Charles asks, a slight crack in voice as he tries to pretend he wasn’t at all annoyed. “We just had one last night.”

Maria musters up a stern look. “Yes, again. They’re a lovely family, so we want to impress them with two well-behaved drivers.” The Ferrari boys swallow their laughter as they nod their heads. Got it.

It takes all of Carlos’ remaining willpower to get ready for dinner that night. On the way to the small Italian restaurant, he second guesses even showing up. He could fake a fever. A sore throat. Shaking his head, he curses as he steps out of his custom Ferrari.

“Oh good, I thought it was just going to be me,” Charles jokes as soon as he spots the Spaniard. Carlos chuckles before greeting the team. About 10 minutes go by before the Monegasque grows impatient as a child. I could have finished watching my movie.

“Shut up,” Fred murmurs before abruptly standing up from his seat. “Ah! È così bello rivedere finalmente te e la tua famiglia!” Choking on his champagne, Charles scrunches his nose before flying up and introducing himself. Carlos bites back a smile as he follows his lead.

And there he sees you, standing elegantly with a silk dress that looks as soft as your skin. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone, stepping in to not just shake their hands, but also go in for a small hug. Your mother and father repeat the same action, though they later focus all of their attention on Fred and Maria.

The Monegasque kicks his teammate’s shin. Carlos winces as he shoots fiery daggers. “We hit the jackpot.”

“What?”

Charles' shoulders drop theatrically. “Are you kidding me? Are we looking at the same girl right now or are you just blind?”

But he did see you, and he never quite forgot about you since that day. He could feel the tips of his ear burn bright red as you made your way over to him and his teammate. Charles, so nice to meet you, the green eyed boy beams before going in for a hug. You smile from ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you, too! I must admit; I’m a little starstruck right now.” Charles blushes fast as he stutters his way around such a compliment, even if he’s received thousands of the same one before. “Ah, this is Carlos.”

“Hello,” he feels himself saying. “Carlos, nice to meet you.” As soon as you look up at him, his breath hitches and fears you might feel his sweaty palms flourishing against your soft ones. And if you do, you choose to ignore it as you share a small smile, the kind you share when you see someone after 15 years.

The kind that seems forced.

“Ditto.”

With one last glance, you excuse yourself before making your way over to where your parents and Fred chatter about upcoming plans. Carlos blinks. “Wow. No hug,” Charles points out. “That’s weird. She was basically giving them out for free.”

“Be quiet.”

The remainder of the night you kept to yourself, occasionally inputting your own opinion with a polite smile drawn onto your fruit punch lips. Very well mannered, Fred would approve as you would bow your head with shyness. Carlos quirked a brow of curiosity.

He wondered what he might’ve done wrong. Had he been too forward? Cold? Often, his parents would claim he could be like that sometimes, so maybe? He wasn’t clinging onto the fact that he was the only one who didn’t receive a warm greeting from you, but he was left with questions.

“E tu, tesoro?”

“What about me?” you repeat, hair fanning along your face like a shiny curtain. Maria chuckles. How do you feel about being a part of this new chapter? You think about it for a second before settling with the safest answer. “Very proud, there’s nothing better than tying links with such a superior team.” Fred roars with genuine laughter as he pats your father’s shoulder. Smart girl.

“Why fine jewelry?”

“Pardon?”

The inquiry was directed towards your parents - who would clearly have the answer - but his eyes were trained on you, leaving you to fend for yourself. Lips part slowly as you connect with Carlos’ intense attention. “I’m curious, that’s all. I’m delighted we have you as our sponsors, but I was just wondering what made you dive into the business? Must be hard.”

Squinting your eyes, you click your tongue. It’s in our blood, your father’s voice cuts your train of thought. It’s what we do, what we love. But his warm gaze sticks to you like hot glue. You clear your throat before returning to your wide smile.

“I think it’s safe to say that diamonds are beautiful. They are scarily so crystal clear that for a moment one might search for a trace of color. And then they do come in other colors, so it’s really no problem,” you say, soft chuckles circling the table. “But I believe it’s also safe to say that we don’t often think about how they got here, shining around many ring fingers.” Your mother approves as she shows her mind-blowing diamond cut.

“Miners are the answer. They work hard - get their hands dirty - because they know that while it may not be easy to find such precious things…” His eyes roam your lips before dancing back up to your orbs. “It’s very well worth it.” Taking a sip from your glass of wine, you raise a brow. “That’s why.”

“It doesn’t even feel that tough to wear these pieces,” Charles squeaks as he slips on a white gold bracelet around his wrist. “They’re breathtaking.”

Clapping, you squeal at his words. For a moment, Carlos thinks about punching his teammate for getting to see your good side. They’re great, thank you again. You just tip your head towards him to confirm you heard, and slide away. Carlos sighs.

“This is ridiculous. She can’t even look at me.” The Spaniard bites his cheek. “Do you think she hates me?”

“For doing what?” Charles asks, face pinched with confusion. Carlos huffs, arms flying up.

“I have no idea!”

“Well…I don’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

“No.” He groans. “Can you picture how awkward that would be? There’s no way.”

“Suit yourself.”

Pouting, the brown eyed boy zigzags his way into the studio, mentally preparing himself for hours of blinding lights. “Buongiorno, Carlos!” Spotting your father with his arms wrapped around his wife, he walks over with a tired smile. How are you guys? “We’re fine, son, thank you for asking. Tell me, are you excited for this weekend?” He instantly stands up straighter.

“I am. The Tifosi are always great to be around. Gets hectic, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I can imagine. My wife and daughter are always amped up when it’s finally Monza’s turn.” He hums, almost as if he’s reminiscing. “Tell you, my baby would beg for us to take her to cheer on her favorite drivers. It’s kind of a full circle moment so don’t mind if my wife gets emotional.”

“Stop,” your mother sniffles as she shares a grimace. Told you, your father mouths. Carlos laughs.

“I completely get it, it must mean a lot to all three of you. Maybe that’s what makes this partnership work all the more.” Your fathers winks, large fingers wagging over at the Spaniard. Working over time. I respect it.

“I see why my daughter likes you.”

Carlos halts. “Sorry?”

The older man pants, seeming comedically defeated. “Are you kidding me? She adores you! You've been her favorite driver since you joined Formula 1.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Her love towards the sport had a huge impact on us to join as sponsors, but to be fair, we probably still would have done it. Like I said, it holds a special place in our hearts.”

“Buongiorno,” your soft voice echoes, skipping happily to greet the Ferrari team. Everyone’s energy quickly picks up as you flow with such easiness, skirt wrapping around your waist, making you seem like the only flower in an empty garden. Talk to you in a bit, you cheer as you make your way up to your parents. You stop dead in your tracks as soon as you spot the grumpy brunette. Like always, he can physically see you create a wall around yourself, keeping you from him. He felt like the Beast drooling over the rose inside the glass. “Good morning, Carlos. Logo looks good,” you hum, dark red pedicure pointing at your last name printed onto his fireproof. “Can’t wait to see how it looks on Charles.”

His jaw ticks. “Why don’t I call him then?”

“That would be lovely.”

He’s jealous. Of course he fucking is. He might have found out your whole act is a facade but that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. He could have been your favorite at one point, but what about now? It sure as hell didn’t seem like it.

“She wants to see you.”

The Monegasque furrows his brows. Who? But as soon as he notices his teammates' sour face, he registers the reason for his bad mood. “Stop pouting. You look like you just sucked on a lemon.” Carlos shoots a deadpan expression. “This has gone too far. It’s obviously bothering you.”

“What? You nagging?”

“Okay, ouch.” The green eyed boy takes a small step towards the Spaniard. “You don’t like it that she’s ignoring you because you like her.”

Carlos jumps off the couch. “I do not!” Charles hums.

“Oh shit, good, then I could ask her out.” He beams. “I wouldn’t want things to get weird between us.” Carlos' heart almost jumps out of his chest as he grows nauseous at the thought of you saying yes. He continues. “I’m telling you; I have a good feeling.” The brown eyed boy clenches his jaw. “It’s like this - I could see myself marrying her, having a baby heiress-”

“Okay fine, I like her!” He pants. “She drives me so fucking crazy. Whether she looks my way or not, she makes my head spin. Ever since I saw her at the Canada GP, she’s been imprinted into my brain like a lecture I’ve been told over and over, time and time again. It makes me sick that she seems to almost get sad when she’s around me. The way she can never look at me the way I’ve always looked at her. And I’m…” He looks down at his race boots. “I’m too afraid of ruining something that I don’t even have a chance at.”

The Monegasque pats him on the shoulder, lips stretched out into a teasing smirk. “Now, was it that hard to admit your feelings?”

It was that hard to admit his feelings. He thought about it for the first time since he met you. Confess everything that’s been locked away deep inside of him; claim his feelings like some kind of gold medal. But then he saw you radiating pure perfection and he would turn the other way. You hated him, he’s sure.

“Alright Carlos, push, now push.”

He could taste it - sweet victory that he badly craved. If he played his cards right then he could get second place, which was pretty good in comparison to past results.

The Spaniard tries to not feel too upset about coming in third and waves up at the Tifosi who let out blood curdling screams. Pride rushes through his veins as he walks onto the podium, he didn’t even mind all the attention. Especially the kind you were gifting him with.

The way you smile so big that your perfect teeth shine up at him, eyes crinkling like a love letter. Cheekbones slightly pink from cheering so loud but also from the bright sun. He swore he was on some kind of drug.

Making his way back into the motorhome after all the interviews, he bumps into you and your parents. “Like it?” he asks as he displays his trophy.

“Definitely,” your father beams. “You deserve it, son, enjoy it.” After a few more affirmations, he and your mother walk away. Brown orbs find your own.

“Have fun?” He tries to ease his deep voice, to appear more outgoing, to not scare you away. And yet, you nod, looking down.

“He’s right. You totally deserve it.” And for what seems like the first time, you bless him with your warm stare. “Felicidades, Carlos.” Pink paints his cheeks. You speak Spanish? Your eyes grow wide as you feverishly shake your head. “I-I- I don’t, but I’ve picked up on a few things here and there…”

“From me.” He tilts his head. “You actually pay attention to me.”

You can’t help stutter like a broken record. “Of course-e, I ha-ave ears.” You show them off like a weak justification. “See?” you squeak. Playing with the hem of your dress - that had him swallowing a string of moans the moment you walked into the garage that morning - you slowly started backing away. “I should go now…” You point towards the sliding doors. “See you later?”

But he knew there would be no later. Fuck, this was the most you’ve spoken to him since, well, ever. He wouldn’t let that slip away so easily. Even if his heart got bruised along the way.

“Did I do something for you to hate me?”

Your brows narrow like a little kid. “You think I hate you?”

“It’s okay if you do, I suppose, but I’m just lost as to where that happened? Did I-”

“I don’t hate you,” you softly speak up, eyes shut in disbelief that you’ve made him feel that way. You blink back at him. “I promise you, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Okay, he confirms.

“Why can’t you talk to me then like you do with everybody else? Why can’t you even spare me a passing glance?”

His voice sounds desperate now, he knows it, but he was desperate. Now you were embarrassed that he continues to bring up more and more of your poor behavior - but it was never intentional. You twirl a strand of your hair before releasing it.

“You intimidate me.”

The Spaniard squeezed his fist around the trophy. For a moment, he thought he would dent the steel. Your stomach drops at the sight and he feels guilty for proving you right. He lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know? I’m sure it may seem like it, but…” He licks his lips. “I’m not.”

Doe eyes flutter like butterfly wings. “I believe you, Carlos.”

“Good. Now, would you please tell me why you always escape when I’m around?” You softly curse as you pinch your hand for a second.

“I wasn’t lying; you do intimidate me. But not in the way you might think.” Like an angel, you make your way closer. “You’re my favorite driver, you know that?” The Spaniard’s brown eyes grow wide. You laugh. “Ever since you-”

“Joined Formula 1.”

Your jaw drops. “My father ratted me out?” Panicking, you pace the room back and forth. You could only look at him for a couple of seconds before planting your stare at anywhere else that isn’t him. “I told him not to say anything! Oh God.” You let out a maniatic chuckle. “I swear it’s just a tiny crush, it’s not even that deep - I’ll get over it!”

Now it’s his turn to geek out. “You have a crush on me?” Crap, you groan, biting down on your nail. He didn’t mention that part, did he? Brown strands of hair shake back and forth as you sigh.

“Forget I said anything, I am so sorry for making things awkward-”

“I’ve seen you before.” What? The 29 year old winces. “At the Canada GP. You were walking with a friend.” Synthia, you whisper to yourself. “I was being filmed for feedback on the race and you were about 5 steps in front of me.” You counted? “I said about - and for months, you were all I could think about. You sort of stuck to me like a nostalgic scent. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to you, I mean, it’s never happened to me before. I looked away for a second and you were gone.” He shares a lopsided smile. “Then I saw you again.”

“And I blocked you out.” You bite your lip. “Shit, Carlos…I had no idea you felt this way.” He shrugs.

“It’s my fault. I never told you.” Still, you try to reason but he only brushes you off. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” you whimper. “I acted like a complete snob and belittled you.” Your heart breaks at the image. “And you’re telling me it’s been mutual all along?”

“Looks like it. This is good though.” How? The brunette winks as he pulls you in. “Because now we do know and I can take you out sometime?” You quirk a brow.

“It works just like that?”

He hums, comfortable with the two trophies pressed up against him. “Only if you want it to be like that.” You can practically hear your crazy heartbeat with the way he’s looking down at you - as if he’s just discovered a previously nonexisting star. With soft hands pressed onto his suit, your eyes twinkle.

“Just like that, then.”

877 notes · View notes

sunghoonnsupremacy · 5 months

Text

PRETTY BABY! - sim jaeyun ꨄ

- warnings : pussy eating in public, cussing, dirty talk

- words : 663

"you've got such a pretty pussy." my eyes widen, turning around to face the person who said that. "sim, what the hell? we're in class!" i whisper back at him and kick his shin from beneath the desk. he just smirks and rolls his eyes. "meet me in the art room during lunch, okay?" i nod and turn back around to try and pay attention to the lecture but the aching between my legs made it hard to focus.

TIMESKIP TO LUNCH.

my shoes clack against the floor as i walk throughout the halls of the somewhat empty school. everybody's at lunch, including my friends who i had to explain to my absence at the dining hall.

that simple answer being sim jaeyun, or jake as he preffered. we're not dating, nor are we friends. fuck buddies if anything. we met at a frat party and hooked up and ever since then it's been these annual meetings when one of us, or both were horny.

I open the door to the empty art room and immediately get attacked by a pair of hungry lips. "took you long enough." he peppers kisses around my face and collarbones, unbuttoning my blouse and groaning at my white lingerie. "wore this just for me baby?" jake looks up at my eyes, panting. i raise an eyebrow and decide to tease him.

"maybe, or maybe it was for heeseung." at that, he slams me against the wall leaving me wincing at the damage. "don't lie, heeseung could never fuck you like i do." his fingers linger around my waist before sliding down between my legs. "he could never make this pussy wet like i do." my thighs automatically squeeze at his possessiveness.

jake smirks, "let me eat you out, yeah?" i eagerly nod and sit down on the chair that's next to me with my legs spread. he hungrily licks his lips and gets on his knees. "please.. jake. need it so bad." i whine and tug him closer by grasping his hair in a tight hold. jake rips my tights apart and groans at my slick already coating my pussy. he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb and licking around my opening.

i gasp at his teasing and try to close my thighs around his head to bring him closer. instead of my plan working, he grips my thighs and brings them apart. "keep them open baby." i groan at his slow pace and try to beg for it. "jake.. please eat me out." i see him smirk before diving into my pussy.

soft gasps leave my mouth as my eyes widen and his tongue starts doing wonders inside my pussy and his thumb rubbing my clit faster. "oh g-god!" a loud moan erupts from my throat when he plunges two fingers inside and starts thrusting them at a fast pace. he removes his thumb and starts sucking and licking around my clit like his life depends on it. i start to whimper at his desperation, him eating me out like he hasn't eaten in years.

jake adds a third finger and continues slamming them inside, reaching my gspot in seconds. i start seeing white and my moans get louder. its like the both of us have forgotten we're still in school, his tongue slurping up my juices and my whimpers reaching a high level of sound.

"come on my pretty baby, cum. I know you want to." he removes his fingers and starts tongue-fucking me. "fuck jake im c-cumming!" i let put a high pitched moan and cum around his tongue, letting him lick it all up.

I start to squirm at the over stimulation yet he looks like he's barely finished. when i start to push him away, he shakes his head and looks up at me. "you're gonna cum until im tired." i groan and throw my head back. maybe it wasn't such a good idea idea to mention heeseung, or was it?

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #jake sim #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen drabbles #jake hard hours #jake drabble

1K notes · View notes

neoplatinum · 3 months

Text

link up - avenoir | yoo 'karina' jimin

summary: jimin has a complicated predicament to deal with — you sleeping with her friend, chaehyun. knowing that you two don’t have an official label sends her in a tailspin

pairing: situationship!jimin x reader

themes: hurt jimin, confused reader, ultimately just dummy reader being beyond stupid, mentions of chaehyun (kepler), jeno (nct)

wc: 1.6k

“jimin do not pick up that call.” yizhou instinctively grabbed the phone straight from jimin. to which aeri let out a giggle and then continued. “it’s doing you no good to continue whatever you have going on with her.” minjeong nodded fervently; the three girls stared at jimin eyeing the vibrating phone with your nickname and photo plastered on the front.

“but what if she’s in danger?” minjeong could feel her blood pressure rising just at the question.

“jimin, when has she ever called you when she’s in danger,” aeri was always calmer and logical in her responses.

“the only danger she could be in is not getting to eat you out by the end of the night.” yizhou folded her arms and crossed her legs.

“ning!! that’s not the point!” minjeong slapped yizhou and instead placed a comforting hand on jimin’s shoulder.

“she doesn’t deserve access to you, and you know that! especially after what she did.”

“ESPECIALLY after what she did.” yizhou emphasized before turning off jimin’s phone.”

“she’s not picking up.”

yunjin kept singing into the new world with chaewon while sakura was cheering them on. ryujin turns her head towards you, “of course she isn’t picking up! i wouldn’t pick up either!”

“but she always picks up!”

“maybe she finally woke up and realizes how shitty you are.” eunchae shouts as she eats another takoyaki. you shrink further into the couch.

“eunchae!! language!!” sakura shouted and continued banging on her drum ring and cheering on the duet.

“listen, all im saying is that sleeping with her friend is a bad look if you’re trying to get with her!” ryujin tried reasoning with you.

“i thought it would make her jealous and you know…want to be official with me.” you hung your head low.

“how could you possibly think that was the best way to do that?” kazuha rolled her eyes and pointed at you, “you shouldve just asked her whats going on with her and jeno instead of sleeping with her friend!”

“fuck, im so stupid.”

“so so stupid.” sakura said while yunjin and chaewon harmonized a final “so so stupid~”

you let out a sigh and left the noraebang room to grab more soju.

“hi.” jimin flatly says.

“hi.” you nervously reply.

yeji groaned and rolled her eyes before stomping out of her dorm with ryujin in tow. when ryujin urgently called you saying that yeji was in trouble in her dorms you weren’t expecting to see jimin face to face after two months of radio silence.

it was all a ploy from yeji and ryujin so you two could finally talk again.

“are you okay?” trying to tread lightly as you're in her room, which could easily mean that she's going to smack you.

“yes, why?” jimin stepped away from you and turned her attention back to her laptop where her essay sat still on her screen. you could feel the panic rise in your body, after begging for a response from jimin, being alone with her caused your brain to blank. you suddenly forgot all the apologies and speeches you spent sleepless nights reciting when stood in her room.

“well?” she continued to type out her essay not sparing you a single glance. this is where you had to be bold.

“jimin, can we talk?”

“oh so you want to talk? after sleeping with chaehyun? yeah sure lets talk.”

you grimaced and pulled yejis chair closer to jimin and sat down. seeing her again after so long tugged at your heart, she was still so so adorable with her shin-chan headband and big round glasses. you recognized that tick in her jaw though, she was tense.

“the only reason i slept with chaehyun was because i thought it would make you jealous and well, get together with me?” you trailed off at the end. to which jimin finally turned to look at you with furious eyes.

“i cannot believe you! how could you possibly think that was a good idea?” she crossed her arms and eyed you.

“it wasn’t a good idea!! i am very sorry, i was jealous because there were rumors that you were sleeping with jeno and i know we aren’t exclusive but, it made me nervous to ask you if its true and well, i wasn’t thinking.” you ramble on and on to which it only infuriates jimin more.

“jeno? so you heard rumors and believed them instead of asking me instead?”

“yes, im very sorry jimin. i know i shouldve asked you and not assume anything but, he kept talking about you and it got to me.”

“shit, i need to speak to him, he knows we’re just friends.” jimin mumbled out. “NOT THE POINT, you still slept with chaehyun.”

“i know, i know, and truly, i really am sorry.”

and suddenly, jimin stands from her chair and stares at the wall blankly before turning to you.

“i’ve heard enough of your apologies i need time to process all this.” jimin says and stands up walking you out of her dorm. you groan and let out a sigh when you dial ryujin’s number.

“how did it go?” ryujin whispers.

“she didn’t hit me, so i think okay?” you walked away from jimin and yeji’s dorm to see ryujin and yeji at the vending machines. you hung up your phone.

“i should’ve kicked your ass for what you did to jimin,” yeji stares at you "but she told me not to, so count your blessings." and with a final nod yeji stomps away.

ryujin gives you a sheepish smile and pats your back. “good luck, i hope you know how great of a friend i am. i convinced yeji to let me do this so she put us on a temporary sex ban.”

“ew ryujin, i do not need to know that.”

“you will know exactly how much i care about you that im not going to be intimate with MY girlfriend for your sake.” and with that you and ryujin walked out of the building.

you stare at jimin as she continues playing fiercely on the court, not knowing you are in the stands. you have also been trying to avoid aeri and yizhou’s wrath so you wrap your jacket a little tighter and pull your hood down further.

as the game ends in a tie, you see all the players spread out to leave the court, you’re hoping to catch jimin alone so you can properly apologize after that conversation in her dorm last week.

“jimin!” you shout at she grabs her jacket and water bottle. she scowls at you but waits for you to reach her. “hi! these are for you!”

“okay?” she grabs the bouquet out of your hands and quickly throws them into a trashcan.

“jimin please wait!”

she turns to you and watches you expectantly.

“go on, say what you were going to say.”

“okay! i really really like you, i think ive liked you since we first met. and when you suggested we sleep together just because i was ecstatic, the girl of my dreams wanted to be with me even if it wasn't exclusive. i shouldn't have listened to jeno and his stupid man words, it just irked me so much to know how close you two were and when his friends were implying you guys were together, i lost it. it felt like i had lost you and i didn’t know what else to get your attention back. so i slept with chaehyun and i know it looks bad because it is bad, but i really only wanted your attention, im sorry i didnt communicate my feelings for you better and caused all this. i regret so much of what i did but i'll never regret my feelings for you jimin.”

and by now aeri and yizhou have gathered behind you, ready to knock your head down if jimin asked but all you could do is try to convey your deepest feelings for the girl that had captured your heart.

jimin was tearing up and sobbing at this point and you wanted nothing more to hold her but you knew you would be overstepping boundaries, and most likely get a kick from yizhou from behind.

“you really hurt me, when chaehyun texted me that you two had slept together, my world fell apart. i didn’t want to confirm it with you because if you had confirmed it, it would’ve just proved that all we had was simply a fling, and to me it was never just a fling.” jimin hiccups while shes crying and holding her jacket tighter.

“you’re not just a fling to me either, i like you and only you.”

“i do too.” she whispers. “we should stop sleeping together.” she adds on.

“of course, anything you’d like.”

jimin sighs and lifts her head, “we did this all backwards, we should've gone on dates first, maybe we wouldnt be here like this.”

“i would have done any way to be with you jimin.” you speak earnestly.

“stop trying to smooth talk me im still mad at you.” she chastises you.

“okay, ill stop.” a warm smile took over. out of the corner of your eyes, you spot something coming fast towards you.

"you little shit! get over here, i don't forgive you even if jimin has!" yizhou shouts as she gets runs at you. you escape jimin's hold and start running away, trying to find an exit.

"oh no!" you run out of the gymnasium with aeri and yizhou chasing after you and a laughing minjeong chasing after the two.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed it! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#karina x reader #aespa karina #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #aespa x reader #aespa x you #aespa #neoplatinum

333 notes · View notes

strangerstilinski · 8 months

Text

𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; steve takes care of his sick gf

warnings; no use of y/n, (steve refers to reader as ‘girl’ but no mentions of specific anatomy i don't think), multiple descriptions of vomiting, steve being stupidly sweet, casual/non-sexual nudity, sickfic, fluff

word count; ~4k

a/n; i wrote 99% of this while i was sick and exhausted myself, so i'm not insanely happy with it??? but, uh.. fuck it? right? also this is my first time posting something on here that isn't DOB so pls, pls be nice — i beg you.

You had thought it would get better.

You'd thought that sleep would be enough to get rid of the overpowering warmth that had begun to prickle uncomfortably under your skin, the congestion that left your head feeling like it was just a little bit too big, too heavy, for your body. The better part of the last twelve hours have been spent curled up in bed, hoping to sleep it off.

You're not entirely sure what illness is to blame for your current state, but you're cursing each and every possible one as you stumble into the bathroom and fall to your knees in front of the toilet. An immediate ache from the collision against the floor goes ignored, as does the cold that bites at your shins through the glossy tiles.

Now, as your body rolls and tenses with heaves and coughs that have you spilling the remains of your dinner from the night before into clean porcelain, you can't quite believe that you'd dared to be so naively optimistic.

Time passes in that horrible way it always does when you feel poorly, too slow at times and a total blur at others. Your head has been pillowed on your arm at the edge of the toilet for one of those blurred stretches, time fuzzy while you catch your breath. You hear the loud trill of the phone ringing out from down the hallway and your head shoots up at the sudden noise. You intend on hobbling out of the bathroom to answer it, but the too-quick motion of your head snapping to attention has your stomach turning all over again.

The ringing continues as you upend the final contents of your stomach, and the grating noise of the telephone finally dies off only to pick back up again just as your puking turns into nothing more than dry-heaves, body still protesting despite there being nothing left inside of you to give.

When the roiling of your stomach settles slightly, it takes all of your strength to pull yourself to your feet, flushing the toilet and grabbing the bottle of perfumed bathroom spray to mask the lingering smell that's doing absolutely nothing to ease your nausea.

You fumble for a moment as you locate your thermometer, placing the end of the small glass tube under your tongue as you lean onto your elbows over the sink, head dropping weakly as you wait. When you pull the device from your lips a few minutes later, the little red line reads somewhere around a hundred, and you drop it to the back of the counter with a huff.

Your weight continues rest heavily on the edges of the sink as you flick on the tap and proceed to take a few long sips straight from the stream of cold water, rushing to take in grateful gulps. It clears some of the bitterness from your tongue, washing away the rancid taste of bile and stomach acid while settling cooly in your feverish body.

You push back up, weight resting on your palms until you can regard your unusually pallor complexion in the mirror. Your eyes are bleary, a little wet still with tears from your battle with your own body a few minutes before. The sight of just how truly unwell you look has your stomach turning all over again, the cold water in your stomach suddenly feeling as if it's moving in heavy, churning waves inside of you, as if it's fighting to break free.

You barely make it back to the toilet before you're retching and dumping back out all of the water that you'd forced into your body perhaps a bit too quickly.

You're so exhausted by the time your stomach settles once more, you don't manage more than flushing the toilet and misting the air with another quick spritz of freshener before you've slumped against the wall and begun to doze.

When your boyfriend eventually comes knocking at your front door, the sound isn't enough to rouse you, not even when the noise grows a little more frantic from anxiety, palms slamming against the surface paired with muffled shouts of concern through the thick wood.

You remain entirely unaware as an increasingly worried Steve Harrington begins searching for your spare key with muffled curses. He nearly upends the potted plant you have outside your door, kicking your doormat across the hallway in his haste to unlock your door and shove his way into your apartment. Steve stumbles through several rooms before he finds you in the bathroom and his steps falter at the sight that awaits him.

You look so pathetic it's startling; curled in on yourself in a way that makes you appear smaller, weak and innocent, younger even. Your head is tipped against the wall, lolled to the side until your nose and chin are nearly touching your shoulder. He knows it has to be wreaking havoc on the muscles in your neck, and he nearly winces at the thought, pushing further into the room and squatting down in front of you. Steve's hand finds your cheek, supporting some of the weight of your head to straighten your spine just a touch as he assesses the sickly pallor your skin has taken.

“Oh, honey.” Steve says softly, thumb stroking from your jaw to the apple of your cheek and back down again.

The soft touch is enough to finally wake you and he watches your eyes blink heavily, feverish confusion pulling your brows together as you struggle to focus on the face in front of you. You pout at him and the sight of your lip jutting out is so cute that Steve fails to notice your arm rising weakly from where it was blocked by the toilet. Not until it's too late.

A honeysuckle scented mist sprays in his direction, forcing him to flinch back in surprise as the perfume invades his nostrils.

“Jesus!” Steve exclaims in surprise, hacking slightly at the taste of it on his tongue, “Baby, what the hell?”

Your nose scrunches up as both your arm and the spray bottle fall heavily into your lap. You blink at him slow, “Smells like vom in here.” You explain meekly.

“It smells fine.” He tries to reassure you, pulling the de-odorizer from your weak grip and setting it on the countertop behind himself and effectively out of your reach.

“Wha're you doing 'ere?” You question in a rasp, shaky hand grabbing ahold of his wrist as if trying to prove to yourself that he's real and not some fever-induced hallucination.

“You weren't pickin' up my calls,” He tells you softly, thumb beginning to move across the heated skin of your cheek again, “I knew you were plannin' on staying in to get some cleaning done. When you didn't answer my mind kinda ran wild. Thought you might've slipped and fallen and cracked your head off the kitchen counter or somethin'. I dunno, I just.. I got worried, sweetheart. Came to check in for my own peace of mind,” His gaze trails the length of your body, taking in your wrinkled tshirt, your bare feet, your clammy skin, the puffiness around your eyes, “I'm glad I did.”

“‘'m sorry I didn't pick up the phone,” You apologize quietly, your gaze drifting to the toilet for a moment before slowly meeting his again, “Was busy puking my guts out.”

The way your lip pulls up at the corner from your own dry humor has Steve cracking a smile, his voice fond when it sounds again.

“I see that,” He says with a sigh, “How long you been sick?”

You try to shrug but your shoulders barely move, your body too weak to manage more than a small twitch of your muscles, “Started feeling shitty last night before bed. Slept a lot. Got sick when I woke up this afternoon.” As if suddenly realizing the lack of brightness coming in through the bathroom window, your raspy voice comes again, “Time s'it?”

“Five-ish,” Steve tells you with a frown, pretty brown eyes flicking over your face, “You haven't eaten anything?”

You give him a small shake of your head, his large hand supporting most of the weight of your skull as you do so, “M'sick.”

He sighs, “You still gotta eat, honey. Have to get something in your stomach if you're gonna get your strength back.”

You shake your head again, sad eyes meeting his, “I'll just throw it up. Don't want to get sick again.”

Steve smiles at you pityingly, a sad thing, “We'll try something real small to start, how's that?”

“How small?” You ask nervously.

“Some soup?”

You shake your head.

“Just broth and some crackers?” He bargains.

Your stomach rolls at the mere thought and it must show on your face because he sighs heavily.

“Dry toast?” He tries.

Your eyebrows pull together, but the thought doesn't immediately make you queasy, so you give him an indecisive shrug.

“Let’s try some toast, yeah, honey?” Steve says softly.

His fingers gently brush your hair back from your face and your mind whirls in realization.

“Oh god,” You bemoan weakly, “'s there puke in my hair?”

“No,” He says a little to quickly, “No, baby, there's nothing in your hair.”

You give him a look to say that you don't believe him for a single second, but he's looking at you so fondly that your expression melts away into something soft almost immediately.

“You want me to tie your hair back?” Steve asks, already turning around to peek at the bathroom countertop where there's a mess of hair ties and clips littering the surface.

“The big one.” You tell him, nodding vaguely in the direction of your favorite scrunchie.

He turns back around with the puffy material pinched between his fingers, already combing your hair back and collecting it in a bundle with gentle hands. The sensation of air meeting the clammy nape of your neck feels so good that you let out a small noise of relief, leaning forward to give him more room while he tries to smooth out the lumps in your hair with his fingers.

Once he's managed a messy ponytail, his wide palms rest on the sides of your neck, thumbs ghosting along your jawline as he frowns at the feverish sweat on your brow.

“You taken your temperature at all?” He questions in concern, his fingers meeting your forehead and somehow managing to feel blessedly cool against your overheated skin, “You feel like you're burnin' up, sweetheart.”

“Hundred or so.” You tell him, eyes falling shut as you lean into the feeling of his hand against your sweaty skin.

Steve hums, an unhappy sound, “That's not too bad. Not good by any means, but it's nothin' to be too worried about, huh?” He sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than you, so you merely nod against his hand. He sighs after a moment, “Right. C'mon. Up we go.” He urges softly, arm curling around your back with one hand gripping at your hip as he pulls you to your feet.

You're not sure how he manages it so effortlessly, the only hint of his strain is the soft grunt he lets out when you collapse against his chest and knock a little bit of the wind from him. You bury your nose into the dip of his clavicle, the strip of skin and scarce chest hair poking out from beneath the collar of his stretched shirt is soft to the touch and masculine smelling and overall a little dizzying — although, the way you sway against him has you wondering if maybe that's just the fever.

“Toast.” Steve reminds you softly, hand slipping beneath your baggy sleep shirt — one that had been his shirt, once upon a time — to run his thumb over the soft, overheated skin at your hip.

You grumble something that's not quite disapproval or approval, a weak sounding thing to protest the thought of moving from your current position, but with an endeared sigh and a soft press of his lips to your sweaty temple, Steve's manhandling you into a better position. Your feet end up over the tops of his, your arms curled up underneath his own to grip weakly onto the backs of his shoulders. He holds you steady with one hand at the center of your spine and the other spread over your backside in likely the least sexual touch he's ever graced to that area of your body.

You manage a weak murmur about him copping a feel and he laughs. It falls over your ear in a breathy little chuckle as Steve carefully waddles the two of you down the hall. His arms continue to hold you tight to his chest while walks you back around the corner leading into your small kitchen, flicking the overhead light on as he goes.

“Hows'it you're mouthy even when you're on your deathbed?” He asks, a small grin on his face as he gently gets you settled up onto one of the kitchen stools where you can rest while he makes you food.

You collapse onto your elbows against the countertop as soon as he releases you, cheek resting heavy in your palm as you peer up at him.

“Dunno..” You tell him quietly, eyes flicking over Steve's face slow in a way that you didn't quite manage in the dim light of the bathroom.

His hair looks a little fluffier than normal, soft and messy in a way that makes you want to run your hands through it, tug soft on the strand that dips down over his forehead and curls toward his eye in that effortlessly beautiful kind of way. Caramel swirls prettily with the darker shades of brown and gold in his eyes, pink lips pulled into a barely-there grin when he turns back toward you after grabbing a half eaten loaf of bread from the cupboard.

You're watching him with a dazed sort of admiration, “How s'it you look so pretty even when I'm on my deathbed?” You counter dreamily, arms crossing against the cool countertop so that you can rest your temple over the tops of them when your head suddenly starts to feel a little too heavy, vision swaying.

Steve laughs softly as he gets two slices of bread into the toaster, “I'm not sure there's a correlation between my good-looks and your health,” The sound of his amusement fades out when he looks back at you and finds your new position, “Oh, Honey..” He says simply, the words pitying.

“'m dizzy.” You tell him with closed eyes. The darkness behind your eyelids doing nothing to slow the spinning in your brain.

“Well I'm sure that not eating all day is at least partially to blame for that,” Steve says softly, “Your body can't fight the virus if you don't give it any fuel.”

You pout petulantly, knowing he's probably right, “You're annoying when you're smart.”

The swirling blackness behind your closed eyes slows, your breathing following suit as you relax against the counter.

“C'mon, sit up, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice startles you and the quiet clink of a ceramic plate being set down on the counter beside your head has you deducing that you might have fallen asleep for a few moments. You make a small noise of surprise as your gaze moves to the food on the plate, plain dry toast. Steve has sliced it into cute, neat little triangles for you and your heart melts a little at the gesture.

Hands on your arms guide you gently into an upright position as Steve crowds up against your side, letting you rest your weight into the wall of his chest when your head swims a little from the movement. You grab a slice of lightly toasted bread from the plate in front of you and bring it to your lips, nibbling slow at the corner with your eyes closed, trying to focus on the way you rise and fall with Steve's breaths where you're resting against him — the expansion of his lungs beneath his ribs rocking you in a slow, steady movement while you attempt to force down comically tiny bites.

Steve drags his palm along the length of your spine, drawing a smooth path up and down as you eat.

“Doin' good, babe,” He praises softly, his free hand falling to rest lightly on your stomach where he begins to trace tiny circles over your shirt, “You don't have to eat it all. Just need to get a little something in your stomach.”

You hum around your sliver of toast, crumbs raining down on both of your chests and clinging to the fabric of your shirts as you chew. It takes a stupidly long time, but you manage to finish a single triangle of bread, and Steve continues with his soothing touches all the while.

He feels you grip the hem of his shirt in your fist, your sweaty face turning into his chest with an unintelligible murmur, and he brings his hand on your back up to rest between your shoulder blades.

“You done for now?” Steve asks gently, fingers rubbing softly into the tense muscles beneath your neck as you nod, “Probably haven't had anything to drink either, huh?”

You shake your head and a frown pulls at your lips when he takes a small step away from you, “Wha'-?”

“Gonna grab you a glass of water, alright? Then we can take a bath. Get you all clean and relaxed.”

He's already stepping away before you can protest, though the phantom sensation of the water that had re-emerged from your mouth an hour or so earlier has you frowning anxiously.

Unaware of your silent distress, Steve grabs a glass and turns on the tap, the loud rush of the water hitting the sink basin filling the room while he sticks his hand under the flow. He stands like that for a few moments, fiddling with the temperature a couple of times before he fills the cup. He returns to you only moments later, settling the glass into your palms with more gentleness than you think you've ever experienced.

As both of your trembling hands lift the water to your lips, you take a small sip, frowning and lowering the glass only a moment later.

“It's warm.” You complain weakly, face scrunching up in disgust as you meet his eyes.

Steve nods and his hand urges your own to bring the glass back to your lips, “Cold water will shock your stomach,” He tells you softly, “Gotta be warm if you don't wanna get sick. My strong girl just ate half a piece of toast, you don't want to immediately throw it back up, do ya?”

“No.” You murmur around the lip of the glass, taking another careful sip.

“No,” Steve agrees, wide palm coming up to brush a few loose wisps of hair back from your forehead, “Doing good, honey, real good. Just a few more sips and we'll get you in the bath.”

You frown at the reminder, clutching your cup to your chest with both hands, “Oh god,” You whisper in horror, “I smell.. I smell really bad, don't I?”

“You don't smell,” Steve promises with a soft smile, though it's not entirely convincing, “A bath'll help your head, though. You said you were dizzy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree quietly, “Feels, like, swollen. Like my head's gonna explode.. But also 's spinny.”

“The steam will help,” He promises, “And you'll feel better when you're fresh and clean, y'know?”

You sigh around another sip of the warm water, a reluctant nod against the hand resting over your forehead. He urges you to drink a little more before he's dragging you back toward your bathroom.

You're forced to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, watching with tired eyes as Steve flits in and out of the room — adjusting the flow of the water in the bathtub and digging through your basket of bath salts and filling a bowl from the sink tap for reasons you can't imagine but don't bother to question aloud.

Instead, you wait. The loud rush of water filling the tub lulls you into a sort of trance until your eyes are slipping shut, head swaying heavily on your shoulders. The steam filling the room smells nice, lavender salts and oils having been added to the bath at some point, and the smell has you beginning to relax.

“Not fallin' asleep on me already, are you?”

You blink slow, heavy eyelids fluttering as you open your eyes to find Steve standing in front of you, already stripped down to his boxers. He steps between your legs to pull your shirt up over your head and you're down to only your underwear with just that one quick move. When he pulls you up, gentle hands cupping your elbows in case you sway on your feet, you lean into his bare chest with a contented sigh.

“This is nice.” You murmur, rubbing your cheek against the soft hairs littering his chest.

“This isn't even the relaxing part, honey,” Steve chuckles softly, his hands falling to your hips to rid you of your final article of clothing, “Come on. In you go.”

He helps you step over the lip of the tub, one hand in yours and the other on your waist to steady you. The water is hot and silky against your skin, a gasp on your lips when it first licks at your calves. It sends blissful shivers down your spine as you settle down into it, your eyes falling shut with a contented groan as you curl your arms around your knees and bow your head to rest over them.

You're only alone for a moment before Steve is settling in behind you, his long legs caging you in as they stretch the length of the tub. The water flowing from the tap cuts off and the room is thrust into startling silence, the thundering sound of the bathtub filling being replaced with the quiet sloshing of the water as Steve adjusts himself beside you.

You gasp in surprise when a warm stream of water falls over your shoulder and you crack your eyes open to watch as Steve cups his hands again, bringing the water to the back of your neck and releasing it in a warm rush down your spine. You hum in approval and he repeats the action a few times, dropping handfuls of water over your back as the steam works to lessen the pressure in your head.

A few minutes pass before Steve's maneuvering you around with big hands at your ribs, your thighs splaying wide over either side of his knees as he settles back against the end of the tub. Water sloshes around you with all the movement, licking high on your skin until you rest chest to chest, your face tucking into the damp curve of his neck.

“You alright like this?” Steve checks, his voice unbearably soft as the words fan out over cheek, “You comfortable?”

You hum happily, eyes closed, “So comfy, Stevie.”

He brings a big, bath-warmed palm up to rest on your shoulder, wet fingers trailing along your skin and leaving tiny oil-sheened drops of water behind that bead down the length of your arm and back as they fall.

Just as your mind starts to slip into that space between wakefulness and sleep, a startlingly cold cloth is pressed to your forehead. The chill has you reeling back slightly, a betrayed sort of frown on your face as you peer at your boyfriend who's holding a damp washcloth in his hand.

“To help bring down your fever,” Steve supplies in response to your silent question, “Sorry. I should've warned you.”

You settle back against his chest with a small huff, hand curling around his wrist as a way of telling him it was okay to try again. The cold doesn't shock you nearly as much the second time around, taking only a moment to warm into a comfortable coolness against your skin.

A deep breath fills your lungs with the sweet smell of lavender combined with the lingering musk of Steve's cologne. Your fingers trail over damp skin until you can settle your palm against his pec, blunt nails tracing slow patterns on his skin through the short damp hairs.

“Thank you,” You whisper over his chest, your breath causing his nipple to pebble up against the steam-thickened air, “So good to me, Steve. 'm so glad I have you.”

The wet cloth against your forehead disappears only to return a moment later, cool again from having been dipped back into the bowl of cold water Steve had placed beside the tub. Your breath stutters a bit at the chill, body tensing and relaxing back against him only a second later.

“How many times have you been the one taking care of me, huh?” Steve asks, fingers dragging up and down along the skin at the outside of your thigh in a soothing touch, “And I'd say you're in much better condition now than I was at least a few of those times.”

“'s different,” You argue quietly, “You were hurt. You're always getting hurt.”

“And you're always there to take care of me,” Steve agrees, “So I'm gonna take care of you. 'cause we got each other's backs, don't we, honey?”

His voice is smooth like silk to your ears, his big hand still trailing softly along your skin. His fingers find their way to your shoulder, the gentle drag of his knuckles skating along your jaw, the apple of your cheek, the length your brow bone, tiny streaks of moisture left behind in his wake.

“Yeah,” You murmur against his skin, tipping your head to place a small kiss to the corner of your boyfriend's jaw, “We do.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington sickfic #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things

872 notes · View notes

forlorn-crows · 28 days

Note

Crowy dearie my mind is a MESS with this idea. But aether is definitely uncut and has a thing for docking. He’ll take turns with mountain or he’ll completely cover dew or or or HHHHHHHHHHH

jhnfnf. oh you know he does. especially when its over dew's little tdick. fits perfectly under there, doesn't it?

docking, transmasc dew, a little bit of knotting, and a little bit of daddy aether under the cut >:)

(based on this post from all the way back in november)

It’s maddening. Over and back, over and back. Foreskin kissing the pulled-back hood on every stroke, and every stroke as slow and sensitive as the last. He could cum like this. Cover Dew’s little dick in creamy white and hold it there within his skin until they both shake from it.

“A-Aethe,” Dew begs, “you’re driving me crazy.” The swollen head of his cock kicks against Aether’s slit, and the bigger ghoul nearly doubles over. “A little—fuck—faster, just a little, ‘m right there.”

Their fingers touch as Aether really stretches it past the mushroom tip, covering him fully. Dew sighs the quietest uh he thinks he’s ever heard, and it takes everything in him not to slide right between those wet folds and sheathe himself inside.

“Gods, it’s so soft,” he groans. Over and back. Holding again. “Fuck, could just—” He pinches the skin between thumb and forefinger, rolling it around the little shaft. “Oh—”

“—shitshitshit.” Dew clutches the quint’s forearm and arches into it. Head tossing back and forth, eyes fluttering, struggling to stay open. “Yes, keep-uh huh—”

“Just like that?” Aether breathes. He’s so stiff, veins along his length just plump with blood; but Dew has to cum first, has to.

“Please,” he wheezes. “Fuck,” he grits through his teeth, “gonna cum, you’re gonna make me . . . oh—” His feet start to kick, toes curling into the back of Aether’s shins, and his face and gaze start to go dumb, lax. Little chest blooming with the rosiest heat. But his hands are gripping tight as ever, tendons popping, nails digging into Aether’s arm, and that’s when he knows to push him over the edge.

“There you go, cum inside it,” he groans. “Wanna feel it throb, wanna see how wet this makes you.” He doubles down on the pressure, using his foreskin like a makeshift cocksleeve, but so much more slippery and squishy-soft. Caressing in all the delicate places. The slight jerking of his fingers is what does it, wrenching from the fire ghoul a wounded, lowing sound. Aether fighting to keep his little dick sheathed inside as he bucks and twitches, watching with rapt attention as his entrance clenches around nothing. Slick nearly opaque as it slides towards his hole.

“Hah. A-Aethe. Fuck,” Dew huffs. His hips eventually settle, but his dick still pulses against his slit; Aether can feel it jump between his fingers, nudging right against the opening, and for a split second he wishes he could shove it right in. The urge has him fumbling for the base of his cock, gripping hard so he doesn’t just bust right then.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut and tossing his head back.

Dew whimpers and tugs on his forearm, urging him back down. “Not yet, inside, you gotta—”

Aether’s growling and flipping the fire ghoul over before he can even babble for more, pressing his belly to the mattress and knocking his knees apart. Dynamic switching in an instant and he doesn’t care in the slightest.

“Gonna squeeze my dick like I squeezed yours?” Dew only responds with a muffled fuck! into the mattress, letting Aether rub his over-sensitive head through his folds and pressing his ass back in encouragement. “Yeah, baby boy? Lemme hear you.” The quint ghoul grabs a handful of that long, ashen hair and pulls. Lithe body folding back on itself to arch even deeper.

“Shit,” the fire ghoul half laughs, half keens. Tail twitching up to expose himself more. “Lucifer.”

Aether hums, lining up. “You like that?” He twists the hand in his hair a little more, just enough to make Dew jolt and yip.

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” he wheezes without a second thought.

Aether thrusts in so fast it’s an unholy miracle he even makes it in.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he grunts into Dew’s neck once he folds himself over his back. “Fuck, got me so sensitive already, firefly.”

He can feel every ridge, every press of his head to that place deep inside, foreskin drawn completely back now as he pumps in and out. Dew shakes under his touch, craning and arching for more with every stroke. Letting Aether take what he wants, how he wants.

“That’s it,” Aether praises. “Gonna look so good on my knot.” He grips the fire ghoul’s throat with one hand and reaches down with the other to flick at his swollen dick. He grinds in hard, full, fuzzy balls grazing the tips of his own fingers. The hand on Dew’s neck tightens.

Dew lets loose a string of reedy ah ah ah’s, sounds that are like candy to Aether; once he gets some, he wants more. So he thrusts harder, jerks him faster. And in no time, the little ghoul starts to pulse around him, crying out yes and please and close.

Aether’s close too. Can feel the swell of that bulb at the base of his cock, looking for something to clamp around it.

“Gonna cum on my knot?” he asks gruffly. “Want Daddy to make you feel good?” Dew can only nod with bitten-lip, whimpering when the edge of his knot presses against his entrance. “Good boy, so fucking good for me, love.”

Aether grips him hard at the waist and grinds in, spreading and stretching until his wet walls beg to swallow it whole. That’s when he speeds his hand, focusing right at the place the little head peeks out from the hood. Precise. Devastating.

“Oh no,” Dew sobs. “Push it in, push it—gonna—oh fuck.”

And when he does, the effect is immediate; the fire ghoul cries out, cunt squeezing around Aether as a gush of fluid splashes the front of his balls and squirts onto the sheets. Body going rigid under Aether’s hands. It only takes a few more squeezes before the quintessence ghoul is cumming too, groaning as he fills that slender body with everything he’s got.

please consider reblogging ♡

#the band ghost fanfic #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewdrop/aether #aether/dewdrop #ficlet #dewdrop x aether #aether x dewdrop #transmasc dewdrop #i was so happy to get this request LMAO #ask #the band ghost #cw: daddy kink #cw: knotting #cw: docking #do i love the ending? no. but its an ending.#hope it ruins everyone's night >:)

156 notes · View notes

kazutora-kurokawa · 3 months

Note

HC's about your choice and I would like to challenge you to use this song for motivation!

FMRN

TokRev x Reader: Risky Sex

♡ NSFW, needy!reader, fem reader, oral->fem receiving, exhibitionism, sex in Shin's bikeshop, sex in a dressing room, teasing, these men are cocky fr, also Tora has a tongue piercing because I said so ♡

Characters: Shinichiro and Kazutora (separately)

note: as soon as I heard the song I knew what direction I wanted to go with this and I kinda went overboard 😭 Sarah Ilysm for this 🩷 also I proofread this so yea my eyes hurt lol

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Shinichiro

You honestly couldn't help yourself when it came to Shin, especially when he was working on a bike, he always looked so hot when he was focused. As he was about to get up from his place on the floor you ambushed him, positioning yourself in his lap and wrapping your arms around him. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out in the ashtray, focusing all his attention on you.

"What is it darling? Feeling affectionate?"

You couldn't even be bothered to respond, too busy grinding against the growing bulge in his pants. He chuckled at your neediness before planting a deep kiss on your lips.

"You sure you want me to fuck you here? Anyone could walk in on us."

Did he really just ask you that? As if he didn't see the desperate look in your eyes, like he didn't feel how hard your nails were digging into his back, itching to tear his clothes off.

"Shin, please!"

"Please what darling?"

"Please fuck me~"

That's all he needed to hear, as a matter of fact, he could live off of those words alone. He undid your pants before pushing you onto the cold floor and undoing his belt. The adrenaline coursed through his veins as the thought of being caught flashed in his head. But that didn't matter, all that mattered was how pretty you looked underneath him and how badly you needed him. He started off slow, setting a pace that only made you beg for him even more. Your whining was his signal to go faster, to go deeper, to be rougher. His hands held your legs down, spreading them as far apart as possible so he could hit every nerve. His cock rammed in and out of you so fast that your legs started to involuntarily close, but he wasn't gonna let that happen.

"Uh-uh sweetheart, don't try to get away. You wanted this remember? You were begging for me to fuck you and now you can't take it? Just be a good girl for me and take it ♡"

Fortunately, you two finished up without getting caught. It also goes without saying that he left you completely satisfied, filled to the brim, and unable to walk properly.

Kazutora

You had been out shopping with Tora all day and you didn't know why, but everything this man did was about to send you over the edge. The adoration in his eyes whenever you tried something on and the endless flow of compliments would've polluted your ego, if they hadn't gone straight to your pussy. You were already on your last straw when you came out of the dressing room in a tight black dress, praying that he'd hold off on the compliments for once.

"You look absolutely stunning angel, I love how you look in that, you'd look even better with it off though ♡"

Your hand gripped the doorway of the dressing room as you felt your legs about to give out on you. There was no way you were gonna be able to hold out until you got home, you needed him now. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into the dressing room, closing and locking the door behind you.

"Do you have any clue what you're doing to me right now?"

"Of course I do, because I'm doing it deliberately."

"You're such a jackass!"

"I know, but I'm your jackass."

He pushed you onto the bench of the dressing room and was immediately in between your legs. His calloused hands pulled up your dress and pried your legs open, his tongue brushing over your clothed clit as he licked over the wet spot on your panties.

"Look at you, so fucking wet for me princess ♡"

His teeth hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off of you in an agonizingly slow manner.

"Tora, stop teasing!"

"Okay okay! I'm sorry angel, I'll stop teasing ya."

He gently pressed his thumb onto your clit, rubbing circles and applying more pressure as you got wetter. His thumb was quickly replaced by his tongue and you felt a chill go down your spine as the cold metal of his piercing hit your clit. This definitely didn't go unnoticed by him either.

"Aww angel, do you like it when I press my piercing on your pretty little clit?"

You could only nod in agreement as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you grinded against him. His grip on your thighs tightening as you came, leaving the bottom half of his face soaked. Before you could even let what just happened sink in, there was a knock on the dressing room door.

"Ma'am are you okay in there? Do you need assistance?"

"No I'm okay, I'll be out in a second!"

Tora looked up at you with a smirk on his face before kissing your clit and getting up to help you fix your clothes.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @rinshawty @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @livefromnc

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #kazutora smut #shinichiro smut #I feel like this is my first time writing for Shin and that's absolutely unacceptable because he's so fine 😮‍💨#I don't even know what to say about Tora he's just perfect fr 😭 my man my man my man #your honor I need both of them simultaneously #y'all I'm fucking losing my mind over this #why am I like this I need to calm tf down lmao 🥲#ngl y'all I forgot what a waistband was called and had to google that shit 😭

252 notes · View notes

kquil · 9 months

Text

SIRIUS BLACK | MUSIC LOVER

request. : Hi love! Could you do one with sirius where, reader and him is in his dorm and reader asks him to put on music on (record player probably cuz they don't have phone) and he gets really insecure, bc what if she doesn't like his music. Buuuut when he sees her tap her foot along to the drums he gets soo happy, and when she mumbles along to his favorite song (i feel like is probably like dancing queen or sum) he just know he's found the person he's going to marry and he's just so happy and cute. If not that's totally fine! Take care 😘😘—@valencia-rou

g. : fluff ; muggleborn reader ; secretly pining sirius ; sirius being dramatic again ; reader isn't having it ; they're besties ; sirius is an ABBA lover ; reader is an ABBA lover too ; record player is the secret matchmacker

length : 0.6k

You sigh heavily and slump back into Sirius’ bed, putting aside your unfinished essay. This attracts the attention of the marauder, who was propped up against the headboard and flicking through a muggle book.

“No progress, huh?” there was a touch of amusement in Sirius’ tone that made you frown deeper and raise a hand to hit his shin. As soon as the resonating slap echoed through the dorm room, Sirius immediately shouts in mock pain and brings his shin up to clutch at ‘painfully’, “Ow! The pain! Ahh!” he hisses dramatically as you roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips shyly from the display, “It hurts soooo much! Why would you do such a thing, Dollface?!”

“Stop playing Sirius…” he ignores your sass and continues his exaggerated but amusing spectacle.

“I’ve never felt such agony before in my life!” he lifts the back of his hand to rest on his forehead, sweeping some of his hair to the side and swoons as he peaks an eye at you. In that brief moment, he sees your amused, disbelieving face and quickly formulates a plan, “this pain can only be calmed by a kis-”

“Music!” you gasp and stand from the bed as soon as you see the record player sitting atop a set of drawers beside a stack of books. It was a new addition to the room that Sirius had begged Remus to buy for him in the muggle world so it was fair that you were surprised to see it. Rushing to the record player, you see that there was a vinyl already inside and look up at Sirius with excitement. Lost in your elation, you miss the anxious look Sirius gives you, “Is this yours, Siri?”

“Uh, yeah,”

His mind raced with insecurities as you examined the record player in an attempt to deduce its mechanics. You’re a muggleborn and probably had immaculate taste in muggle music compared to his limited knowledge. He wasn’t sure about how you’d react to his taste in artists and songs.

“Can I have a listen?” you’re still admiring the record player and almost fail to notice how Sirius doesn’t answer right away.

Turning to the marauder, you smile and tilt your head curiously, finally prompting him to answer, “go ahead…” he watches you turn to the record player again, “you just have to flip the switch on the right si—”

ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ promptly begins to play, which makes Sirius wince. He was new to the group but he was quickly beginning to like them just as much as Queen. The grimace on his face wasn’t for distaste of the music, however, it was, rather, in anticipation for your judgement.

“Oh my god! I love this song!” you squeal, jumping in place before you begin to sing along, swaying your hips and moving your shoulders to the beat. From your perfect citation of the lyrics, Sirius could very well argue that you love ABBA as much as he does, if not, more. Before he knew it, his worries were wiped away, long forgotten and you were pulling him up from the bed to dance together in the middle of the dorm.

Sirius had no choice but to admit that you had never looked so lovely or cute. And to think that she couldn’t get any more perfect… he internally praises, grinning widely and happily dances with you

“Je vais l’épouser…” Sirius utters under his breath, still staring at you with an awestruck look on his face.

“Hm? What was that Siri?” you ask, turning to look at him with an innocent tilt of your head, hips still moving to the music.

“Nothing, Doll,” Sirius assures and kisses your forehead.

Translation :

Je vais l’épouser — I’m going to marry her

navi.

a/n : sirius liking ABBA is canon in my book, sorry not sorry! what i am sorry for is the fact that it took me so long to write this adorable request! i'm so sorry, my love! i hope you liked it, it's short and sweet but so adorable!

taglist : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @rosaleenablack @samanddeansannoyingsis @marina468 @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

#sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fic #📝 : request

493 notes · View notes

chuchuchurch · 18 days

Text

Silly goose (Shinichiro Sano)

good/final time-line, fem!reader, smoking, fluff, no beta

You met Shinichiro through Takemichi since you'd essentially babysit him

Takemichi had begged you to go out one day while you were babysitting him, pulling on your clothes with a pout which was very uncharacteristic of the boy who you definitely considered an old soul

You agreed, pulling on shoes and coats for the both of you because you couldn't resist his puppy eyes, and let him drag you to the near by park

The second you got there he ran off towards the far corner of the playground and you watched as he all but tackled a blonde boy

Then you noticed the fairly sketchy looking group of teen boys also huddled around that corner and your heart skipped a beat, you weren't judgemental but you did have a healthy dose of caution that tripled when a child (Takemichi) was present

You froze up while trying to think of the best way to go about making sure the kids were safe, but your plight was soon interrupted by said boy galloping back over with several more boys

The blonde boy, who Takemichi tells you is called Mikey (you don't question it) seems to look at you with a strange amount of fondness but the glint in his eyes tells you he's the same as Takemichi, you give him a smile and brush it off

You get pecked at with questions from three more boys you come to know as Sanzu, Baji, and Kazutora until you get dragged over to the group of sketchy boys in the corner

Your heart picks up while your brain tries to go over every scenario

To your surprise, the boy in the middle, who has black hair and kind eyes waves you over with a soft smile and even if you wanted to resist the kids pulling you along wouldn't let you

Takemichi and Mikey loudly and proudly introduce you to the group and despite their familiarity you can feel yourself shaking. Hang on! Does Takemichi hang around these people a lot? Is that something you should tell his parents about? Whatever, you'll worry about that in a minute...

"Hi..." was all you could get out, and even to your ears you sounded nervous and that seemed to be picked up by the boy in the middle.

"'Evenin', Sano Shinichiro, nice to meet ya. You babysit Takemitchy, yeah?" you nod and he smiles and in a relatively strange move, stretches his hand out to shake

You take it and give it a firm shake, flashing him a smile. His face goes beet red and he retracts his hand quickly, but you try not to look into that too much

A shrill call of your name snaps your attention towards Takemichi and his little gang again, nothing seems particularly wrong but still, you haul ass to make sure all is well

Turns out he just wanted some help reaching something that'd gotten stuck up a tree, you crouched down to let him clamber onto your shoulders to reach and he got it down without a hitch

Plopping him back down on the floor, Mikey quietly tugged on the sleeve of your coat, not meeting you eyes as he stuck his leg out and showed you the scrapes down his shin, red and fresh

You coo gently and kneel down to inspect them, pulling out an alcohol wipe and several plasters you keep on hand and clean him up without question

Once you're done you get taken by surprise by a tight hug from him, you aren't averse to it at all and you hold him close until he pulls back. You cup his face gently

"Alright sweertheart, be careful next time, okay?" you tell him softly and tears well up in his eyes again and before you can ask if he's okay, he's hugging you again

Crunching footsteps approach, you look up from your place from the floor and find Shinichiro looking down with a glint of worry, you shrug minutely and give him a look to tell him you're just as confused as he is as you sway softly with Mikey in your arms

He kneels down to your level, essentially peering over your shoulder at his younger brother and you notice that he smells unexpectedly nice for a teen boy, you glance backwards and from up close you can see that he's got a pretty face to match

You can't pull your gaze from his face until his eyes meet yours and you go back to looking at the top of Mikey's head to avoid being caught

Shinichiro shifts around to sit on the floor behind you

"Hey, Mikey?" he asks and gets a soft grunt in return, muffled by your shoulder. "You alright lil' man?"

You scoot around to half face Shinichiro as he tries to coax his brother out of your arms to check on him, it works eventually and Mikey pulls away from you with a shaky breath

Shinichiro cradles him with much more kindness than you'd expect from a delinquent, and as contextually inappropriate as it is you can't help but think it made him quite attractive

Eventually, Shinichiro gives you a sympathetic smile and scoops Mikey up to go sit with him and the other boys he calls Wakasa and Benkei, quietly you tell him that's okay and watch him leave

"I think you should marry him." Takemichi whispers loudly in your ear, startling you

"I should what?!" you whisper-shouted back, blush creeping up your cheeks, you knew Takemichi was smarter than he let on, but was your newly budding crush really that obvious?

"Marry him, duh."

"Why?" you asked exasperatedly, you thought you would've gotten used to Takemichi's Takemichi-isms by now but apparently the boy had no end to the situations he could get into

"Because." you sighed and your head sank, it's only Tuesday...

Out of earshot back with Shinichiro, Mikey was goading him into the same conversation. The tears had stopped the second Shinichiro had sat down with him on his lap and Mikey hadn't stopped talking since then

"Well, I still think you should marry her."

"Lil' dude, I've never even kissed a girl so I think we're setting the bar a little bit high there..."

"Then she can be your first, idiot."

"Hey!" Wakasa and Benkei snickered behind him, they were definitely going to rag on him about this at their meeting later, but he tried to ignore it

He was red up to his ears, he'd thought you were beautiful since the second you'd set foot in the park, so much so that his jaw dropped enough for his cigarette to slip out his mouth, he'd turned away from you because what if you saw that? That would be so embarrassing it would end him

The sun was just beginning to set and you returned to the corner with Takemichi and his gaggle of friends so they could say goodbye before you left

The way Shinichiro was being so sweet with his brother was making you feel things now that a romantic perspective had been cast on him...

You kept your gaze steady and when it came time to bid him a farewell yourself you met his eyes with confidence and an out stretched hand, offering him your knuckles in a more cordial way of shaking as you said goodbye with a smile

Shinichiro panicked when he saw your hand and out of desperate impulse, he cradled it with his hands and gently kissed your knuckles and then promptly freaked out

"Sorry! That was a bit forward wasn't it! Uh-" you cut him off with a mildly amused, mildly embarrassed giggle, heat crawling up your cheeks as you reassured him it was okay and bid him a bubble goodbye

When you walked away, you turned back to give him a last wave, and smiled when you found he was still red in the face

You made sure you were well out of earshot before you asked Takemichi

"So... is he single?" Takemichi gasped loudly and jumped around with more childish enthusiasm than you'd ever seen from him

"Very!" yowch, poor guy, but still you smiled and quietly pumped your fist. Sure he looked kind of sketchy but your heart was telling you he was a kind guy and your brain had nothing to prove that notion wrong

You had a shot!

Once you left his eyesight, Shinichiro all but deflated, hunching over with his hands on his knees as he tried to will the heat out of his cheeks

"Oh man, what was that?" Wakasa teased, poking his back before kicking the back of his calf

"Shut up..." Shinichiro groaned, Mikey patted his back sagely and gave him a sympathetic nod

"She's single, you've got a shot. Even if you're a bit pathetic, I think she might be into that."

"Thanks, Michael."

Takemichi had insisted on dragging you with him to see Mikey as much as possible, meaning you'd ended up at his house more often than you ever imagined you would

You also ended up in Shinichiro's bedroom more often than you thought you would've, Mikey and Takemichi liked to be in there and you all but bent to their whims

So several times a weel, you'd end up sat on Shinichiro's bed with him, lowly talking about life as Takemichi and his friends ran about the house

As it turns out, Shinichiro was a lot softer than you thought, someone who looked for the simple joys in life, loved his family and had a very cute dorky interest in motorbikes

Sometimes he'd show you what he was working on, dragging you over to his work section and showing you the bike parts he was fixing up

You listened, of course you did, you hung on to his every word just like he hung on to yours, but pretty often you'd find yourself lost more in his warm eyes and pleasant baritone voice than his ramblings about bikes

Oh, he was stupidly pretty, and stupidly kind, and it came as a surprise when you found out he wasn't just the member of a gang, but the leader of the top motorcycle gang in the Kanto region

Still, you were in too deep and you couldn't let him go now, not when just being with him made you feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside, when being asked about him made you feel like you were being asked to bare your whole heart, when just seeing him made you feel so much more alive

So, you'd ignore it for now and continue the comfortable flow of your life and pray your paths stay connected for long enough for it all to work out

Shinichiro often felt the same, he could admit he was in stupid teenage love and kick his feet like a schoolgirl about it with no shame when he was alone in his room

You'd waltzed into his life and it felt like you'd cut through the remaining fog at the edges of his vision, the whole world seemed brighter with you around and he found himself thinking of you when he looked at the way sunlight filtered through leaves and when dark clouds brought nourishing rain in the late evening

Wakasa was right, he was whipped, totally smitten. Oh, what was he going to do about this...

He sighed into his pillow, there was a big confrontation set for tomorrow and he was having rare worries that things might go too far south... should he just tell you? Just in case?

If he didn't come back, if he died there, could he accept never telling you that he loved you?

The answer was clear before he'd even finished the thought and he was already reaching for his bike before he'd really finished the thought.

No, he couldn't. So tonight he'd be impulsive

Speeding down the city streets, he pulled up outside your house and turned to his only real source of romantic ideas and chucked almost a dozen pebbles at your window like they did in the movies before you opened your window

You were muddled with sleep, your hair a mess and your shirt slipping down one shoulder, you had dried drool on your cheek that you wiped off but he couldn't help but admire how pretty you looked doused in streetlight, you could really pull just about anything off, couldn't you?

"Hey! I need to talk to you!" he yelled from the street

"God, yeah! Okay, just- keep it down, stupid!" you shouted back as quietly as was reasonable

"Can you uh- can you come down here?" he asked, sounding weirdly defeated, you nodded and sneaked downstairs and out your door as quietly as possible

Dressed in a the first, and quite garish, jacket your hands found and a pair of crocs, you took his breath away and he could feel the nerves the adrenaline had kept at bay creeping back in

Shinichiro tried to speak but all he could get out was a wheeze and a blush as he couldn't look away from your eyes, you tilted your head and waited for him to speak

He couldn't, instead leaning back on his bike and shakily bringing a cigarette to his lips and you watched as his hands tried to grapple with lighting it

Cautiously, you took the lighter from him and lit the end of his cigarette yourself, his eyes gleamed with wonder in the lighter's small flame when you glanced up at him through your eye lashes

He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew it away from you, turning his head away, licking his lips and mulling over the best words to use

You sighed through your nose, stepping close enough to be between his legs you reached up to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth when his hands stopped shaking, his eyes followed your hand until it, and the cigarette between your fingers, fell to your side and he looked into yours wordlessly as your other hand cupped his face

"You're too cute to die of lung cancer..." you mumbled, lowering your gaze to the neckline of Shinichiro's shirt as you let the lit cigarette drop into a puddle by your feet, there was no universe in which he could even think of being mad at you for that despite the waste

Your eyes flicked down to his lips, you'd been crushing on him hard for months now, the thought of being with him echoing through your head like the sweetest bell chime and tonight all you could see in front of you was your opportunity to make that clear

"Shinichiro..." his heart seized as you called him by his given name, it sounded so lovely in your voice... "can I kiss you?"

Your mumbled desire swirled around his ears like smoke and yet again he couldn't speak, but he could find it in him to nod

"Use your words, 'chiro." oh, you were going to kill him...

"Yes, please."

Your lips met and it felt like the sky had been lifted off of your shoulders, his lips were slightly chapped and he tasted of cigarette smoke but that was more than okay because you were kissing Shinichiro

You relaxed into him, a hand sliding up his back and into his hair

He whimpered into the kiss quietly as his hands travelled down to your lower back, you were soft in a way that transcended physical, you were like a warm bed in winter and fluffy clouds in the setting sun

And you were kissing him

He felt like he had to come up for air or he'd pass out, to be honest he might just pass out either way...

Shinichiro broke the kiss and pulled back, staring at you in amazement and you couldn't help but giggle at the silly love-struck face he was pulling

He joined you giggling soon enough, a bright smile overtaking his face as he cupped yours, his eyes so full of warmth it stopped all of your thoughts in their tracks

"You- uh, you wanna go out? With me?" he asked dumbly, too lost in your eyes and his thoughts to be speaking with any kind of coherence. "On a date?"

You grinned back. "I'm free this friday."

"It's a date! Literally! I'll pick you up at uh- seven? Is seven good?"

"Very, Shinichiro." you said through your smile.

"I'll see you then!" he yelled as he dove for his bike realising the streetlights were starting to go out and he needed to go home and you needed to go to bed. "I'll win that fight tomorrow! For you!"

You were confused about what he meant by that, but he was already pushing his bike down the road and waving like a mad man so it wasn't like you could ask, you had to go back inside soon anyways

"You'll do great! Good luck!" you called down the street, waving back and blowing a kiss when he turned to look at you

He caught it in one hand and slapped it to his chest with an over dramatic swoon that had you doubling over, how in the lord's name a man like him could be so ridiculous you may never know but you were so happy to be his first kiss

When, not if, you have it your way you were never going to let that silly man go

haa first proper post here lmao, thanks for reading! reblogs appreciated <3

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro sano #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano x fem! reader

103 notes · View notes

byuljoonie · 2 months

Text

A helping hand // jhs

Free you my heart 😪

pairing: dom!hobi x f!reader

genre: smut, drabble, unedited

word count: 360

warnings: cunnilingus

note: Happy Easter ig? Just something I wrote spur of the moment 😅

“Hoseok, please” you begged pathetically, a tear slipping down your already wet cheeks. You were trembling on the bed, your pink sheets soaked and messy.

“Please what, y/n?” He said sickeningly sweet, running his finger along the slit of your sensitive pussy. “Use your words pretty girl.”

He started kissing along the inside of your left thigh, chuckling at the exasperated breath you let out. Your body was spent, you were 3 orgasms in and practically limp.

“Can’t handle more, hobi” you mewled weakly, running your shaky hands through his disheveled hair. You tried pushing his head away from your body but he only resisted.

“Oh but you can, baby” he cooed, furrowing his brows in mock worry. He placed a hand on either of your shins, pushing your legs upward. He positioned himself closer to your waiting core. Listening attentively to your cute whines of desperation.

He leaned down licking a strip up your slit, kissing each side of your pussy lips. Eyeing your glistening cunt like a mad man, hobi peered up through hooded eyes. His long lashes casting a small shadow across his cheeks. Smiling at the sight of your ruined body, he lowered his head. Placing his nose directly on your pussy, inhaling loudly.

Your cheeks burned red, legs starting to ache in the tightly folded position he placed you in. He began tongue fucking you mercilessly. Obscene slurping noises filled the room, your whimpers turning into broken cries. You felt your arousal dripping down your legs continuously. The knot in your stomach forming almost immediately.

“Mmm—“ he hummed against your soaked core, moving away to take a quick breath. He didn’t waste another second diving back in. Spitting on your cunt in a swift motion.

“Whose pussy is this?” He questioned hotly. Using a free hand to rub across your pussy. He looked at you hungrily, milking another orgasm from you with his fingers. You felt your pussy clench around his fingers, repeatedly calling his name in response.

“So gorgeous,” he breathed heavily, watching your cunt contract around his idle fingers. He ran his fingers along your folds placing them in his mouth happily.

“Again?”

#bts smut #bts jhope #bts writing #bts drabble #bts hoseok #hoseok #jung hobi #jung hoseok #bts imagines #bangtan #kpop smut #kpop masterlist #bts hobi #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #bts one shot #bts jungkook

113 notes · View notes

greazyfloz · 10 months

Note

could you do 14 and 16 smut with luca fantilli i love your writing

Smut: 14.“I could just push you bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice” & 16. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet” w/ Luca Fantilli

To The Side

Today, Rutger and Johnny both travelled up to the Fantilli's house to send the weekend with the boys. Luca had invited me to come over as well as they were having a pool day in the Fantilli's backyard.

I laid at the side of the pool as the boys played volleyball in the pool for a majority of the day until Adam, Rutger and Johnny went inside to get water and to get out of the sun for a bit. I looked over at my smily boyfriend as he rested his chin against the side of the pool as he looked back at me.

"What?" I say with a chuckle as I blush

"Come in with me" He says still shinning his goofy smile at me.

"I'm not coming in fully" I say standing up from the lounger I was laying on and made my way over to the pool, "but I'll sit on the ledge" I continue as I sit down on the side of the pool letting my legs dangling in the pool water.

"They aren't coming out anytime soon" Luca smirks at me. Luca pointing that out made me look back at the house's sliding door then back to my smirking boyfriend.

"What are you getting at?" I say with a furrowed brow

"Get in the pool, Y/n"

"No, Why?"

"I want you"

"Then get out of the pool, and we can go to your room" I tell him letting out a slight chuckle

"No, I want to fuck you in the pool" he says "I could just push you bikini bottoms to the side, no one would even notice”

I cross my legs feeling myself get wet at the thought of Luca's fingers inside of me with people so close by. Luca smirks at me knowing exactly why I shifted and cross my legs, "I haven’t even touched you and you’re already wet”

I suck in on my cheeks as I feel Luca begin to rub my thigh with his hand as he leans his body up. His other hand reaches up and grabs behind my neck guiding my lips to his. I give in and deepen the kiss as his hands that were once on my thigh and behind my neck were now on my lower back, pulling me slowly against him.

I push myself off the edge of the pool and let my body sink inside of the water. "Good girl" Luca mumbles into the kiss as I feel his hand travel down to my bikini bottoms.

Like he said he would do, he pushed my bikini bottoms to the side and allowed his fingers to explore. I let out a soft quiet moan onto his lips as he begins pumping his fingers inside of me. Luca pulls away to watch my face as he pleasures me making him harder than before.

"You're so beautiful" he says as I throw my head back allowing his lips to suck on my neck. I feel his hard cock rub against the side of my leg begging for attention, so I trace my fingers down his side until I am able to palm him through his swim shorts.

Luca takes his fingers from inside of me and impatiently pulls his cock out from his shorts, "Fuck me baby" I tell him as I smirk at him seeing him struggle.

He quickly turns me around and pushing me down so my chest was laying against the pool deck. Without any warning he pushes himself inside of me making me moan a little louder than before. Luca put his hand over my mouth as he continued thrusting inside of me, so the boys inside couldn't hear us.

The pool waves get bigger and bigger inside of the pool as he continues thrusting hard inside of me breathing out heavily. He pulls his hand away from my mouth, "Try to be quiet baby" he says as he places both hands on my waist to allow himself to thrust harder inside of me. I bite my lip so I don't moan as his fingers grip deeper and deeper on my hips.

"I-I'm close" I say breathlessly then bite back down on my lip.

"Me too baby" he says then pulls out of me to turn me around to face him. I wrap my legs around his waist and Luca positions his cock at my entrance again before I begin bouncing up and down while he continues thrusting again. "Cum for me" he says

I let my self cum on his cock and before I could moan out Luca presses his lips on mine so I was moaning in his mouth. I moan into the kiss as my fingers glide roughly up his back. He twitches suddenly inside of me followed by a grunt that escapes his lips.

"Shit" he says pulling out of me, "I-um- I'll-We will have to go get you a Plan B pill" he says awkwardly making me chuckle

"Idiot" I say still chuckling as I shake my head at him before making my way out of the pool.

Luca puts himself away before following me out of the pool still wearing the goofy grin as he takes a towel and shakes it over his hair then drying off before we head in the house.

Adam, Johnny, and Rutger all sit in the kitchen refusing to look as Luca and I walk in through the sliding door. No one says anything until Adam bursts out laughing as we walk by.

"What?" Luca ask chuckling at his brother and now the other two boys how have joined in

Instead of saying anything Adam just points over to the open window making the other two boys laugh a little harder. My face immediately turns red as Luca continues to chuckle. He rolls his eyes then turns to me and guides me to his room.

"That's so embarrassing Lu" I say as soon as he shuts the door behind him.

"The only person that will tease us will be Johnny" he says as he pulls his swim shorts off and puts on a new pair of underwear.

"Um... Rutger?"

"Okay, and Rutger" he says correcting himself and he finishes getting changed, "Now get changed, we have to go to the store"

"Going to the store this soon is just asking to be razzed"

"I'd rather be razzed than be a young dad"

"True" I say and quickly get dressed.

#umich hockey #umich hockey imagine #umich imagine #hockey imagines #umich hockey smut #luca fantilli smut #luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli imagine

438 notes · View notes