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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

Titty-Shirt! (18+)

pairing: pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader

genre: theme park au??? lmao, coworkers to lovers, kinda enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, lil crack, lil angst

description: you start your new job and your mentor, jeonghan, is the biggest piece of shit you've ever met. you swear you hate him. you swear. he's just also the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

warnings: whew this requires a lot of warning, first of all a lot of DUBCON BEHAVIOR FROM JEONGHAN INITIALLY (we know she enjoys it to some extent, but he doesnt know), hes a sleazy perverted fuck, tiddie playing, tiddie sucking, tiddie fucking, fingering (f. receiving), dry humping, mirror sex, praise (f. receiving), dirty talk, FINGER SUCKING HNG, a lil degradation (f. receiving), meanie condescending jeonghan turning all soft for ur tiddies :(, V TIDDIE-CENTRIC IF U COULDNT TELL, belinda loves jeonghan, WEED LOTTA WEED, explicit depictions of smoking weed, high sex, this fic sounds rough but it actually has some really soft cute moments, im pretty sure thats it lmk if i forgot smth

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "shove ur cock down my throat treat me like the whore i am", "FUCKING STEP ON ME", "omg hes so disgusting..... im so attracted to him"

wordcount: 13.2k

a/n: the way i raced 2 finish this before im actually moving out... ALSO thinking ab making this a series? like one for each member, the theme being "unusual jobs". like not stuff youd immediately think of like coffee shop or lawyer or ceo or whatever. like. strange jobs. would u guys b on board?

“We’re so excited to have you working with us.”

She had a mole on her nose that was hard to ignore. It was big and exceptionally round - your thoughts flitted back to your dearest Discovery Channel, and how amazing it was that nature could create such perfect spheres. The thought of your couch and your blanket and your most cherished nature docs brought upon a wave of uncertainty. You could just be lying at home, you thought.

“Happy to be here,” you smiled tightly. She was your new manager and she was short and stout and had gray hair and a lovely smile and a round mole on her nose. You tried not to make it obvious you were staring at it.

You were standing in your city’s local theme park under a long path with flower archways. People, kids and parents and ninth graders, swarmed around like bees, standing at booths and in lines to old, janky, rusted roller coasters. It was summer and you were wearing the branded shirt they’d given you, slightly too small, and the matching cap. Insects buzzed past your stray hairs and you looked up at the bright blue sky.

You needed a job, you had known, and your mom had certainly known it too, so you could only lounge around after graduating for a short while, before you opted to apply. This had been your last choice. You’d tried to become some sort of lobby-worker, tried makeup stores and even regular stores. You used to make fun of the people who worked here. But now that person was you, and standing under the archways in the summer sun slathered in sunscreen, you figured you would make the best of it until the busy season was over.

“So,” your manager, Belinda, began after a brief pause of polite nods, “new employees such as yourself are required to be trained and surveyed by an existing worker for a two-week period, but after that you get to run the rides all by yourself.”

She said it like it was something to look forward to. You tried to believe that it was.

“Of course,” you said, and once again the space between you was filled with polite and exaggerated nodding. “Need to learn first before you get to be the master.”

“Exactly!” she said. Her lipstick was barbie-pink and a little overlined on the right side. She smelled faintly of gasoline. “So we’re handing you off to one of our star-employees!”

You hummed and noticed her taking a step backwards, indicating you to follow. She began walking, trudging over the cobbled paths and shuffling awkwardly in between walls of people. You followed behind. “He’s been working here for the past two years, so he knows the place in and out.”

As you walked, passing twisting, gnarly tracks with screams emanating from them and stands with oversized, China-made plushies hanging from them, you tried to imagine what a star-employee at Caratland Theme Park looked like.

It was probably someone that loved roller coasters, maybe someone like yourself, who strived for approval and perfection, maybe someone that found a certain joy in being a good service experience for guests. Someone who was good with kids?

“So you’ll be training with him for a bit before we leave you alone with the coasters, of course, but it should be no trouble, he’s a fun guy!”

You passed by a haunted house, where a group of kids psyched each other up in the queue. Dodging a tree, you finally came up on a certain blue ride where Belinda stopped and put her hands on her hips, power posing in front of the creaky, old machinery.

The Pirate Swing. That’s what it was called, and it was a big ship attached to a huge, metal pole on each side, and it was currently swooshing up and down with a large, grating sound. You cringed at it. Belinda noticed and frowned, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Maybe we should oil that one.”

Kids and parents were lined up at the stairway leading up to it in a parade of artificial polyester colors, and on the edge of the platform where the ship was shoveling through the air, a little booth was sat. Peeking through the frankly grimy windows, you could see him. He was slumped back in a wooden chair, wearing the same shirt as you and Belinda, and wearing big, blocky, black sunglasses.

“Jeonghan!” she called, and you saw the figure jolt. He looked briefly dazed, before he snapped his head up to peer through the glass, smiling and waving. The kids in line turned to glare at you. He scrambled up from his seat clumsily and with sporadic movement, and you both watched how he hunched over the door, shaking it in its frame before it finally let open. He took one long step out the door and was finally outside, looking down at you from the platform and leaning on the railing.

“Belinda! Nice to see you,” he breathed, smiling in a way that seemed to indicate he did not find the prior sequence of events embarrassing. In fact, he seemed to think he had the upper hand - the confidence rolled off of him in waves. You grimaced.

You could see him much better now that he was outside, not broken up by the greasy glass, and whatever you had envisioned the star-employee to look like, this was not it. He was young, maybe just a little older than you, and he was thin, with long black hair that just kissed his shoulders. About half of his face was hidden away behind the frankly humongous sunglasses on his face, but he had pale pink lips and a pronounced cupid's bow, and even though you were a little skeptical of him, the cockiness in his smile was well-received.

“This is Y/n!” Belinda said (yelling to overpower the severely loud child glee), gesturing to you, and you almost felt self-conscious when he looked over at you and smiled. “She’s a new employee and you’ll be her mentor during her training period.”

“Sure thing!” he said simply. Again with the polite nods, you thought, before you felt Belinda’s hand on your shoulder. You glanced over and she squeezed.

“Good luck, Y/n! You’re in great hands!” Now that you weren’t so sure about. Had the two of you not seen the same thing?

You mumbled a thanks and she padded away, once more dodging and weaving through huge chains of people, and you squinted after her, before you turned back to Jeonghan. He was already looking at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Welcome to The Pirate Swing, matey! Get up here and let me show you the ropes,” he padded back to the booth, now visibly more relaxed, as his back returned in a hunch. “I should probably stop the ride,” he mumbled to himself, pressing a button on a long controlpanel with a grid of eight buttons.

You climbed up the stairs unsurely, hand smoothing over the railing as you went. At the top you squeezed in beside Jeonghan. It was a fairly small space, just big enough for the two of you to stand next to each other. Jeonghan smiled a straight smile at you, before brushing past you to let out the dizzy guests.

“Was it a good ride?!” You heard him ask distantly, while you studied the interior of the booth.

It was reeking with a sweet herbal stench, and for a moment you might’ve chalked it up to sweat and cologne, but when your gaze danced over the grid, you became aware of a small, open ziploc of weed on the countertop, crumbs of it dotted by the opening. An energy drink, most certainly warm from the sun flowing in, was perched next to it, and you saw more cans by the foot of the wooden chair (it seemed like a chair that had been dragged in from somewhere else - it was almost reminiscent of the one from your grandma’s house).

You grimaced, looking over to where Jeonghan was waving kids off and shuffling over to let in people from the queue, a big sign for checking heights in his hand. The sunglasses, of course, you thought and frowned at the room. Luckily it seemed pretty straight forward, so maybe you could escape this Jeonghan character earlier than two weeks.

“Right,” Jeonghan clapped his hands together, pushing past you again. “This is how you turn it on,” he said and pressed one long, skinny finger to a black button that read ‘dispatch’.

Sure enough, the huge metal set to work again, screeching as it lifted a boat-full of nuclear families through the air.

“You turn it off with this other one. Usually rides just stop by themselves when they reach the end, but since we got a little shitty one today it’s manual.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding along and watching when his hand danced and pointed to the set of buttons.

“That’s pretty much it!” he said, collapsing in his chair again, sunglasses sliding halfway down his nose and revealing his bloodshot eyes.

“What about the other buttons?” you ask pointedly, arms crossed.

“Don’t worry about them, sweet cheeks,” he waved you off. “They don’t do much.”

The empty cans by his chair clattered when he reached down a hand for one, toppling over and hitting the metal flooring. You scrunched your nose in disgust.

“I like your shirt,” he mumbled, nimble fingers picking up a particular empty can. It was bent on one side, little holes pricked in it - it was a makeshift bong. You scoffed at him. This was the star-employee?

“We have the same shirt,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, but I like yours better,” he grinned lazily, can now in hand, when he leaned forward to fetch the ziploc of weed. “Nice and tight.”

“You’re gross,” you spat, brows furrowed. “This is a kid’s establishment, you know that, right?”

“Ninth graders fuck here all the time,” he shrugged. You gasped, not only because it was an extremely gross fact, but also because that was not what you were suggesting. “I’m referring to the fucking weed in your hand, jackass!”

“Woah, calm down!” He shushed you, and you might’ve genuinely scared him, because he looked around each window of the booth, light cascading down his tan skin. He was wearing a pair of shorts, and you saw his knee bounce. When he’d secured the area, he turned to you with a hiss: “That’s a secret, woman! You can’t just throw words like that around.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t smoke here!” You snapped, but Jeonghan was doing exactly the opposite. Ducking down so it wasn’t totally visible from the windows, he’d placed a little nugget of weed on the grate, and was now setting it alight with Transformers-print lighter.

“This is your first day, right? Trust, you’re gonna end up being high on the job too,” he ended his sentence by placing his lips around the mouth of the can, sucking in smoke.

“That’s such a safety hazard,” you murmured, looking down at him from where you stood. He pulled away, smoke still in his mouth and you saw a twinkle in his eyes from above his falling sunglasses. Then he lunged forward and blew it into your face, a concentrated stream of weed smoke bouncing off your shiny cheeks. “Hey!”

You sputtered and spat, shoulders tense and straining against the fabric of your shirt. Jeonghan settled back down in his chair, legs spread.

“The kids love me! With or without weed!” he said, voice a little groggy from the smoke. You coughed, discontent.

“Maybe they love you because you get them contact-high,” you mumbled under your breath. Jeonghan grinned at that.

Suddenly he leaned back in his chair to study you, one hand on the can, the other taking off his sunglasses. He stared up at you with fire-red eyes and soft, long hair and a bemused grin on his lips. Seeing his full face, you gulped under his intense gaze. He was really pretty. Annoying. More annoying than pretty. But still.

Distantly, kids screamed and a constant buzz of countless conversations overlapped in each inch of the park. Jeonghan reached out a finger and poked your jean-clad hip once.

“You’re funny,” was all he said, something resembling curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah. Funny girl with the tight shirt.”

You were going to retaliate (they truly had run out of your size and had opted for this as a temporary option, it wasn’t your fault!), but Jeonghan coughed suddenly, eyebrows furrowing as he sat back up in his seat.

“Oh shit, should probably stop the ride now.” _____________________________

You thought about quitting.

You could honestly say that Jeonghan made you think about quitting, and maybe you would even have brought the plan into action, had it not been for the fact that you had been rejected from just about every other job that you’d applied to. It seemed you were stuck.

You showed up the next day in your shirt and it felt even tighter than the day prior, and the cap tightened around your scalp like you were a toy in a claw machine.

Fortunately for you, the park seemed much less crowded today. It was a Wednesday, parents were still working and apparently no one sought out the thrill of scary, old, decaying rides on such afternoons. You admired how much lovelier it was when it was still, as you walked up to The Pirate Swing.

“Hey, titty-shirt!”

The loveliness was ruined.

Jeongan was standing on the railing with someone else you didn’t recognize, long, black hair swaying out from the rim of his cap. He waved enthusiastically, watching your form slump at his words.

“Hey, Jeonghan,” you muttered, approaching the steps. The boy beside him looked mildly uncomfortable at the interaction.

“It’s a good thing you’re here, N/n - can I call you N/n?” he didn’t let you answer, simply continued talking like a telemarketer. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re here. Me and my buddy, Junhui, from the Beetle Bug ride were just discussing something that I think is extremely valuable to learn about this place!”

“Are you gonna teach me about the rest of the buttons?” you drawled, eyes half closed in feigned boredom (as much as you disliked him, it certainly wasn’t boring).

“No!” Jeonghan snapped his fingers at you. You noticed he had this way of smiling, that irked you. It was void of sincerity and was instead wolfish and teasing, something genuinely animalistic and mean-spirited. It was distasteful.

“On days like these-” he hovers and outstretched hand to gesture to the mostly bare land of the theme park, “- you can steal food from the restaurants.”

After just one eight hour shift with Jeonghan, you find yourself not even remotely surprised at this. You cross your arms over your chest (Jeonghan’s eyes briefly flick down to them, and you think you might actually hate him): “I have a packed lunch.”

“Packed lunches are for geeks and nerds,” he said, unbothered. “You can come along if you want to get some delicious, warm pizza, or you can stay here like a loser and explain to every kid that comes by, that you’re not allowed to give them a ride on the coaster and watch them cry until you get fired. Your choice, babe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. Jeonghan shrugged with puckered lips and the Beatle Bug guy - Junhui - scrunched his face in disgust at the two of you.

“Not gonna lie, I’m gonna go find Seungkwan,” he said, not even attempting to hide his dismay for your dynamic. He brushed past you on the stairs, hands buried in his pockets. “If you guys fuck, do it in the bathroom Chan uses!” he yelled, trudging past the pillars that held up the haunted house.

“Sure thing, Jun!” Jeonghan smiled, and you could punch him. Again that animalistic, joyful, laughing-at-you-not-laughing-with-you smile.

“What if I snitch on you?” you asked, hoping it would knock some sort of sense into him, but he only shrugged.

“Belinda loves me. Whenever she works on Valentine’s day, she cries in her office and I let her rant about her shitty boyfriends,” the visual was somehow not hard to imagine. Belinda in her office chair (you’d seen it once, and all you could say was the interior looked like something from a log cabin) and Jeonghan, 19, feeding into everything she said. “You can say what you want, but she’ll just fire you for making up rumors.”

Your brows furrowed. “That’s so concerning.”

“Nothing about this place works right,” he admitted and it was maybe the only time you’d sensed an ounce of truth in his words. “So, are you coming?”

You hesitated. You really were working up a real distaste for Jeonghan, but talking to spoiled, crying kids seemed worse than anything else at the moment. You decided you could live through Jeonghan’s lewd comments and maybe make friends with some other park workers.

“Okay.”

“I knew you loved me,” he teased, and then grabbed your wrist from the top of the steps, bouncing down and pulling you along with him. “Hey!” you yelped, but Jeonghan was, as always, unbothered.

He pulled you by a narrow walkway into the toilets, passing by a single, confused family, as you stumbled behind him. There was a fountain with a hen figurine on top, which he steered around, your arm jerking limply, as he went down a flower-walkway.

“You do this often?” you remarked, out of breath from jogging to match his strides.

“Oh yeah. Mingyu works there and he’s like 16, he lets me do anything,” Jeonghan giggled evilly, glancing over his shoulder once, and you gulped, and hated the way his eyes were so big and pretty, and the way his hair blowed softly along carvings of his cheeks.

“It’s great that you have so many people here to enable your bad habits,” you said. Whatever sarcasm you portrayed in your tone, Jeonghan ignored it, still smiling when he said: “Right?”

When you stopped you were standing on the backside of a blocky building - one of the many offers of food you provided, prices marked up to drain the suburbs of their cash. You felt something underfoot, and looked down on the gravelly, rustic pavement, only to see circa 20 cigarettes jammed in between the rocks. You scrunched your nose.

“What? You don’t like cigs?” you looked up at Jeonghan’s voice, to see him grinning cheekily at you. His eyes sparkled and for maybe just a second it was kind of attractive.

“I don’t..” you broke off eye contact. “I don’t mind, it’s just.. Is everyone here like you?”

“Sweetheart,” he tutted, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his long fingers tapping your cheek, cool on the warming skin. You looked back up at him and he had tilted his head to the side. Why was he being attractive? Why were you finding him attractive? “There’s no one like me.”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan pushed open the backdoor, the heat of the kitchen simmering out in one brief wind, before it slammed shut behind him, and you were left, alone and dumbfounded on the stones in a mountain of cigs.

Then you scoffed.

You stood for a moment, letting the fresh air cool the inevitable warmth on your cheeks, huffing (because you were annoyed, you told yourself, not because he had just done something terribly, horribly attractive!) and puffing with your arms crossed over your too-tight-shirt.

Then you pushed open the door and stepped inside the tiled kitchen.

The room was filled with steam and it smelled like canned marinara sauce and fake cheese and most of all it was unbearably hot - so hot and humid, you felt the particles of water sitting on the fabric of your shirt. There was a decidedly oversize pot simmering with sauce on a stovetop, and on a hotplate three untouched pizzas sat; one with potato-topping, one pepperoni and one margarita.

A very tall boy was running frantically around the kitchen, three different kitchen utensils in his clenched fist like claws. Sweat was dripping down the side of his frowning face and red speckled his shiny cheeks. Jeonghan draped himself against the counter lazily.

“It’s just me today,” the boy, Mingyu, cried, “Thomas sent home the other two because there’s no one in the park, but I can’t do this alone!”

“Seems real stressful, Gyu,” Jeonghan mumbled, leaning on his hand.

“Yeah, so if you aren’t too busy, maybe you could stir the marinar-”

“That’s really great, man. You’re doing God’s work. But hey, we’re just gonna-” While Mingyu’s back was turned, the tall boy hunched over the sauce, Jeonghan limply pushed the pepperoni pizza to the edge of the hotplate with a pair of tongs. He winked at you, scooping the pizza into his open palm. “We’re just gonna head out now.”

“Jeonghan, please help me out and don’t-”

Mingyu turned around and his tortured expression dropped into one of shock, his tense limbs falling limp at his sides. Jeonghan stood, hand in the cookie jar and pizza in his palm, frozen in front of him with a sort of cartoonish ‘oopsie’-face. Steam clouded the room while you watched from the doorway.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered in warning: “Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this. Put. The pizza. Down.”

There was a moment of indifferent silence. Jeonghan contemplated.

Then he nodded, lips pursed and eyes cast down to the pizza.

“You know… I would.. But. Y/N, OPEN THE DOOR OR KNOCK HIM OUT!”

“WHAT?”

“OPEN THE DOOR.”

You did. Apparently Mingyu hadn’t seen you, because he jumped at your voice behind him, body twisting to see you just in time for you to open the door and Jeonghan came scrambling out of it like a rat. You cannot believe you just aided this man’s crimes, you think, Mingyu’s expression of horror forever imprinted in your retina, before you followed suit.

However bad Mingyu’s puppy expression made you feel, the rush of adrenaline as you bolted down the pavement under row after row of flowers and sunbeams brought forth something sinister and mean that had you giggling at your evil-doing. Jeonghan was laughing as well, and his genuine laugh was bright and bubbly and very unlike him.

Mingyu sprung open the door behind you, yelling over your shoulders: “HOODLUMS! THIEVES! YOU’RE LUCKY I CAN’T LEAVE THIS SAUCE.”

This made the both of you laugh even harder, disappearing behind another building, leading up to the chicken-fountain. You caught up to him, still holding the pizza in his open palms, now sweating and panting in between bright, heart-thrumming giggles.

“I thought-” you panted, bending at your knees and warding away the image of the betrayed Mingyu. “I thought you said he let you do whatever he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan heaved, cheeks rosy and shiny, as he gently padded over to a bench with the pizza out like the plate in the hand of Oliver Twist. “That’s my bad. I forget he was 16 two years ago and has since then lost all respect for me.”

This made you laugh. This had your eyes squinting closed and a deep, ringing laugh bouncing up your ribcage and your throat and exploding into the summertime. Eyes closed, you missed the way Jeonghan’s face lit up at that.

“That made you laugh? Self-deprecation?” he asked incredulously, but somehow amazed.

“Oh,” you cried, opening your eyes and willing your laughter to calm. “I think it’s just the first time you haven’t been baselessly confident and cocky.”

“Baseless?” Jeonghan echoed, face screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face also screwed in poorly-concealed glee.

“What? Am I supposed to collect, like, fuckin’ data?”

“Yeah, evidence.”

“EVIDENCE?”

You and Jeonghan went back to The Pirate Swing, splitting the pizza in the booth and every 45 minutes or so, letting guests on when they came by. He was still annoying and in all fairness he’d dragged you into his crimes against humanity. But. He was also a little funny and sweet.

And the pizza did taste better than your packed lunch. _____________________________

Two days of normal work followed.

There were too many people to really fuck around, so you and Jeonghan stayed in the booth, and you even managed to pressure him into telling you about the rest of the buttons, as well as the mechanics of the bigger machines.

Everytime Jeonghan saw you he greeted you with “Hey titty-shirt!”, equally enthusiastic each time. Everytime the clock hands read 8 PM he pulled out his weed and began smoking. Everytime he began smoking he snaked a hand on the back of your leg where you stood (still no chair!) beside him, rubbing the flesh under his palm. You shooed him away half-heartedly, then felt guilty for not meaning it. Jeonghan was a sleazy piece of shit, but his hand was warm and felt nice on your thigh. You liked to tell yourself you were just lonely or something.

“TITTY-SHIRT!”

That Saturday you came walking into work, still wearing your shirt and your cap, and was immediately alerted to the fact that something was off; Jeonghan was ecstatic.

He always had this front of joy and constant bemusement, but you’d learned to read how he yearned for his shift to end - you saw it sometimes when he gazed out of the windows of the booth, thinking you were surveying the kids. That day, he was happy. Genuinely.

“TITTY-SHIRT!” he called again, causing a family of blonde children to turn their heads in dismay. He paid them no mind, rushing down the stairs with loud, trampling steps, to meet you at the foot of the platform, before you could even settle down in the booth. He grabbed your forearms in his hands and grinned at you childishly. You couldn’t help the small, bemused smile that parted your lips.

“Great fuckin’ news,” he said, “Belinda is fucking gone. M.I.A.”

“Okay?” you grimaced, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Okay?! Do you know what this means?”

“No, not particularly,” you mumbled.

“This whole fuckin’ area,” he let go of your arms to motion vigorously to your part of the park. "Unsupervised. Unaccounted for.”

“Okay?”

“Okay?! This means we’re gonna go shoot the shit at the arcade, come on!” He threw a hand over his shoulder to gesture to the arcade area. You frowned and crossed your arms challengingly.

“Shouldn’t we go take care of our coaster?”

“Are you kidding me? If no one is working it, people just assume it’s shut down for maintenance. Come on, this only happens, like, twice a year!” He whined, stomping his worn-down Nike sneakers into the pavement and pouting at you. You hated to admit it made your facade melt like an overpriced ice-cream in the hand of a child.

“Alright, but-”

“Yes!”

Without further nonsense, Jeonghan grabbed your hand in his, and began to once more drag you through the park. As you ran behind him, you looked at your interlocked hands and thought, briefly, that it wasn’t too bad to look at. And it felt kind of good.

“What happened to Belinda?”

“God knows, I think it was something with her kids.”

“She has kids?!”

You and Jeonghan messed around at the arcade - Jeonghan miraculously had been granted the keys to the arcade by Belinda (something about her trusting him?), and unlocked the machines and you played games with already-used coins.

First was Whack-A-Mole, then the boxing game, then those motorcycle races, and then you played the basketball game.

“I’m gonna beat you!” you squealed, throwing a miniature basketball through the hoop with a small jump. You grinned in triumph when it landed right, punching the air like a dork and turning to him with victoriously glean.

Jeonghan wasn’t even played, you realized. You’d been so caught up in actually landing the ball in the hoop that you’d managed to forgo the way Jeonghan leaned against his lane, eyes half lidded and shadowed under his cap. You turned to him, now much more aware that you’d been acting like a dork.

“Uh, aren’t you gonna play?” you asked sheepishly, blushing. You wished you’d missed how Jeonghan’s lips quirked upwards at the sight.

“No,” he sang, “I think I’m just gonna stay here and watch you play.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously, and that was all Jeonghan needed before he sighed and shrugged in defeat, like a criminal caught for his crimes.

“Sorry, I just like watching your tits bounce when you get all excited,” he deadpanned. Your mouth gaped open and crossed your arm over your chest.

“You’re so gross, Jeonghan!” you said, now thoroughly uninterested in playing anymore. Jeonghan only scoffed though, to which you snapped your head back to him with an outraged expression. He smiled at you in that cheeky son-of-a-bitch way.

“Oh, don’t act like that,” he said cockily.

“Like what?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, letting a small pause linger in the space between you. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes twinkled with excitement every time he said something like this. As hot as he was, Jeonghan was a cocky, sleazy piece of shit and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Like you’re scandalized,” he said simply. You wanted to respond, wanted to defend your honor, but Jeonghan saw right through you, and he took one step forward to speak again: “Like you hate the way I talk to you. You act all innocent and nice and so uptight, but you know what?”

He took daring steps forward, one after another, until you were half-sat on the basketball machine and he stood, looming over you, surprisingly menacing despite the get-up. The air seemed to suddenly thicken and warm, tasting foul in your mouth. Then he leaned in, eyes glimmering brilliantly with amusement and that evil smile on his lips, breath hitting yours.

“I think you love being treated like a slut.”

Fuck.

He was so close to you, body heat rolling into you. You knew he saw the mechanisms of your brain turning behind your eyes, saw the fear when you realized he had seen right through you, and he smiled, and he might as well have had fucking horns.

He tilted his head, and, fuck, if every angle of his face wasn’t perfect. It was unfair. It was so unfair.

“I-I don’t-” your voice was a meek, half-hearted protest, cut off before you could even begin.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I think you do. You don’t just let any man massage your thigh, hm?”

At those words, his hand dropped onto your thigh, finger digging into soft flesh. You mewled at the feeling, causing his grin to spread wider.

“Oh, poor baby,” he pouted in fake-sympathy. “Am I making you wet?”

“JEONGHAN!”

Thank God for Kwon Soonyoung with the impeccable timing.

Soonyoung was “the pool boy” - he did not work at the pools, but he was the victim of a dunking-machine that was set up in the summertime. Kids and adults alike paid to throw balls at a big, red button that would lower a trapdoor and dunk Soonyoung in ice-cold water. You’d seen it in action and it was pretty hilarious.

At his voice, you and Jeonghan scrambled apart, his hand flying off your thigh and body twisting to back away from you, and you dropping off the machine and landing flat on your feet, blushing wildly and somewhat out of breath.

Soonyoung, the poor boy, was sprinting through the park, stopping awkwardly where you and Jeonghan had been standing. He was out of breath and had a wild look in his eyes, like he was being chased by some supernatural monster.

“Belinda is back! Get back to your coasters!” If he’d noticed your philandering he certainly didn’t mention it, breaking into a sprint again the second the words had left his lips.

“Shit, thank you, Soonyoung!” Jeonghan yelled, receiving only a limp thumbs-up from the trackstar in response. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and the two of you ran back to The Pirate Swing as fast as your legs could take you.

Your heart fluttered at your interlocked hands again, and you stared at them, focused on them, as the world became a blurred mess around you. His warmth streamed into you.

You couldn’t even look at him the rest of the shift. Something about his confrontation stirred a mimicking phenomenon in you. Did you want to fuck Jeonghan? You did, you realized, and thus you were unable to raise your gaze from the floor, pressing yourself against the wall to be far enough away from him, that he couldn’t touch your thigh again. He didn’t. He just let your cheeks blaze and pressed buttons and talked to kids, and he even waved at Belinda when she walked by, and she smiled wide and waved back.

You went home at 9 PM, shirt too tight around your chest, and chest too tight around your heart. You simply couldn’t believe it, because not only did you want to fuck Jeonghan;

You had a fucking crush on him. _____________________________

Having a crush on Yoon Jeonghan was maybe the worst revelation you’d had in your life.

You’d kept all the things you admired about him hidden under the veil of your shirt; he was sleazy and gross and he smoked weed at work and had a certain disregard for child safety. But, and there was always a but, you realized, he was also witty and easy to talk to, and it was cute when he was happy or he got excited about something, and he was so damn charismatic, and you realized you would do anything to see him with that childlike joy again.

The worst part was that Jeonghan did not like you back. In fact, you couldn’t even imagine him liking anyone. He thought you were hot and wanted to fuck and that was the end of it. All the ways you cared about him were unreciprocated. He did not care to see you happy. He did not care for the twinkle in your eyes when you were excited. He liked your tits in your shirt and was working his fingers up, day by day, to touch you. Yoon Jeonghan did not like you back.

Three days of work passed, three days of being muted and awkward around him. Jeonghan’s shine was not dulled by your lack though. The kids loved him, Belinda loved him, and he didn’t love anyone back - just let himself be showered in admiration. He was greedy like that. He took all the love and gave none out.

On this particular day, all you did was lay in your bed before work, willing time to stop so you wouldn’t have to go. Legs flopped on top of your bedsheets, work shirt on and cap on your bedside. You waited.

You waited with a metal ball in your stomach, rolling around and causing a ruckus. It rested heavy there, rolling to and fro and grazing your heart from time to time, and it hurt.

Maybe the reason it felt this bad was because you did it to yourself. Of course, Jeonghan wouldn’t like you back. He was Jeonghan. And yet, you’d had your guard down and his effortless charms had worked their way into your brain. You wondered how many girls had been in the same exact position as you; being graced with Jeonghan’s presence, being smitten by it, and now lying in bed, realizing the admiration would never be bounced back to them.

You went to work.

In the damn shirt, you walked in through the staff-door and journeyed towards The Pirate Swing.

There were so many people that day, you could hardly believe your eyes. The queues were mile-long stretches, and every pathway was spotted with body after body, walls of families, crowds swarming like insects. It was enough to induce a slight panic.

“It’s good that you’re here, Titty-shirt,” Jeonghan said, when you walked into the booth beside him. He had a bit of a wild look in his eye and he was chewing on a banana. You stood by the door of the booth, looking out at the queue - a genuine queue? To The Pirate Swing? - as the boat swung catastrophically behind you. “We’re fucking busy.”

You hummed, then turned your head to him. He had sat down, seemingly exhausted and pouting a little.

“You brought a packed lunch?” you asked, nodding towards the banana in his hand and he looked up at you. His cheeky smile made you want to die.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I stole this from Seungkwan,” he said and you laughed, and you hated that he made you laugh. The walls of the booth muffled the loud, indistinct buzz and shielded you from the chaos. The flimsy, windowed walls had never felt as intimate.

“It’s gonna be a shitty day,” you declared ceremoniously. He grunted something in agreement, voice strangled by the now finished banana. Forever himself, he discarded the peel on the corner of the control panel, among his ziploc of weed and empty cans.

It was a shitty day.

The constant swarming of people, crying children, the non-stop screech of rusted roller coaster tracks; everything brewed together into a pounding headache, as you and Jeonghan hunched together in the booth. Beads of sweat collected on your skin, where the unforgiving sun streamed through the windows.

Around 8 PM you’d had just about enough. Your head was pounding, you were hungry, and most terribly you were sad. You were sad, sitting next to Jeonghan on the dirty, hard floor of the booth, and you could cry every time he said something snarky and lewd to you. He would never like you and you were a fool for ever letting yourself get attached.

The day was constant work, constant talking to kids and putting on an energetic front. Finally the crowd seemed to thin out. Slowly but surely, the suburban families returned home and only a few people remained, and the night time glowed soft and warm.

“Dude,” Jeonghan said, neck craned to look at his phone. With most of the guests gone, he’d finally gotten a chance to waste away on his phone, putting his mouth to his makeshift bong and smoking pot. You kept the booth-door open to let the smoke out. “Wanna go see a crowd of teenagers dunk Soonyoung? Junhui just texted me.”

You were so tired. Every inch of your body yearned to relax where you sat, cross legged on the metal floor. With dark, sunken eyes and no courtesy left, you simply shook your head.

“You sure?” he asked, eyebrows raised. You were just tired enough to miss the small frown on his lips.

“I’m tired, you just go.”

Jeonghan shrugged then and stood up. He left the bong on the floor and stepped over you to exit.

“I’ll be back ASAP!” he yelled out, and you didn’t even try to look at him, to call something witty back. You just sat.

And as if it weren’t the last thing you needed today, just thirty minutes before closing, a woman and her son strolled up The Pirate Swing. You saw them, eyes glazing with worry as you flickered your head to Jeonghan’s empty chair.

“We want a ride!” cawed the woman, holding her son by the hand. You scrambled to your feet, stuttering as you dusted off your pants.

“Uh, I-” hopeful, you looked around, hoping to see Jeonghan and his long, poodle-y hair somewhere near. The pathways were deserted. “I-I actually can’t-”

Not waiting for an explanation, the woman clucked once more: “You’re still open, aren’t ya?”

You nodded, tiredness painted thick and greasy on your face. “Yes, we are, um, open, but I-”

“Well, then give us a ride?!”

This woman was going to be the death of you. Why were they even here now right before closing? You closed your eyes, collecting yourself and mustering each ounce of patience you had left.

“I’m not allowed to because I’m new-”

“Well, where is the operator? Why are you here if you don’t know how it works!”

“He’s, uh,” your face fell, “He’s using the bathroom right no-”

You’re not even sure why you lied.

“Alright,” she huffed, strained and impatient. “Well, you just ruined me and my son’s night!”

She tugged her blonde kid by the hand and began to turn around, grumbling with a red face.

“I’m so sorry, but- it’s a matter of safety-”

“Next time just say you don’t know how to do your job!” she yelled over her shoulder, mean glare coming out over her shapely glasses. Then she was jiggling away with a pouting child.

Your mouth fell open in shock. A part of you wanted to be angry - a part of you was angry - but you found yourself weighed down and sliding down the wall of the booth with a much heavier feeling; you were exhausted.

This was the last straw for tonight, you decided, resolve melting like a dropped ice cream. Booth door half-creaked open and weed vapor in the air, you buried your head in your hands and began to cry. It was small. It was not loud and sorrowful, it was small and petty. Nothing grand about crying on the dirty floor at your workplace. Sniffles and single, wet tears and a quivering lip, all dying out in the soft glow of the fairy light decorating the park.

“Y/n?”

“Shit,” you lifted your head from your hands, wiping hard on your reddened cheeks. Jeonghan was standing in the open door, looking down at you on the floor.

“Sorry, uh-”

“Why are you crying?”

You paused, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt and effectively covering your breasts. Your breath was shaky and snotty, eyelashes coated in tears. Red patches your skin around your puffy eyes, and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Jeonghan did not look like himself when you looked up at him. It must have been a completely different person, you decided, because his features had tightened and screwed into an expression you had never even seen a hint of before: concern.

It looked so utterly foreign on his face - there was always a lightness to his expression, a joking, teasing look, but now he was frowning and his brows were furrowed and his eyes were big and red and round. It made you feel small and frail. You didn’t like seeing him like that; unwell. But it seemed that feeling was mutual.

“Um,” you began, voice hoarse and shuddering like a frail old fence-gate, that’s been slammed shut. “I’ve just had a shitty fucking day and- this woman came and wanted to ride and she was just so fucking mean when I told her I couldn’t..”

Telling it all again made you feel so pathetic, it wracked another sob from you, hurdling past your lips. You caught it in your hand, pressing it to your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut up.

God, you were pathetic.

But your heavy, heavy eyelashes blinked open and you looked up to see Jeonghan’s expression softened into something else entirely;

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately.

“No, it’s fine-”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, now at your level and up close, so you could see every tensed muscle and every strain on his beautiful face.

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said solemnly and for the first time since you’d met him, Jeonghan was merely expressing his regret, not bartering for some sort of gain. His words were dripping with sincerity and it was so strange, you had to laugh.

“What?” he asked, a small grin growing on his face. That was more familiar.

“I just- I’ve never seen you so serious, it’s okay, Jeonghan, I forgive you-”

He broke into a laugh as well, rhythmic clucks dancing through the air from the booth, and it immediately cheered you up: he was beautiful and practically glowing, a small rim of light encapsulating him.

“I’m very serious, I think,” he said. You rolled your puffy, old eyes.

There was a significant pause.

Your head lolled over and your gaze landed once more on the makeshift bong by the chair, now abandoned. It reminded you of how different you were. You tried too hard because you liked when people liked you, you were a hard worker, your shirt was too tight. Your shirt was too tight and that’s what had landed you in this situation.

“Can I…” you trailed off, daring to look at him again. “Can I smoke some of your weed?”

Jeonghan’s face was practically split in half the way he was smiling. There was something akin to triumph in his eyes, but it was almost fatally overpowered by sheer, bubbling, striking adoration. It made you blush.

“Of course, babe, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, still smiling when he scrambled forward for the bong and stretched out his arm to finger at the control panel, finally feeling the soft plastic and snatching it down to the floor with you.

“Just put your mouth to the can, baby, I’ll light it for you,” he giggled giddily, scrambling for the lighter in his pocket.

“I know how it works,” you tried to sound stern, but you were smiling and your eyes were twinkling.

Jeonghan messily pinched off a nugget of weed and placed it on the gridded holes in the can (which he had pricked with his work badge; “Hi, my name is Jeonghan!”), and you placed it to your mouth, while he held the lighter to it.

“You’re so hardcore,” he said sarcastically, face close to yours as he flicked the lighter, sending a warm flame onto the can, so the nugget lit ablaze.

“Shut up,” you said, and then you inhaled and the flame went out and turned into a glow, and warm, crisp smoke traveled down your throat, leaving it sore and burned. It felt great.

You held it in for a moment, then exhaled, and Jeonghan watched eagerly as your chest rose and fell under the restricting fabric of your shirt.

You and Jeonghan sat side by side for the last half hour, smoking together, eyes turning red and breaths turning sour and casting laughs into the night air. There was a warm buzz in your chest, a low drum, and you basked in the proximity to him, in how the heat of his body met yours in a fierce battle, at how he caught your eye when he joked, and how he smiled when you laughed. Your responsibilities melted away; your shirt felt looser.

“We’re closing now,” you hummed after a while, somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Your eyelids felt heavy and your cheeks were warm from giggling. Jeonghan placed his hand on your wrist, squeezing and tearing your eyes to his.

“I have such a good idea right now,” he grinned lazily and you couldn't help but echo it. His eyes were red and half-lidded, and his voice was groggy from the smoke. He had run his hand through his hair one too many times and now it was puffier, poodlier than normal. He looked so handsome, you thought, studying the tan from many days in the sun. You figured he didn’t use sunscreen.

“What is it?” you breathed.

“Come on, come with me!”

Then the two of you were sneaking from building to building and giggling indiscreetly, two hunched silhouettes becoming one with the backs of buildings. Jeonghan insisted the two of you go to the toddler playground (Sunshine Dance Club, as it were called), because, in his words: “those dumb prick security guards never bother to actually check it”. He pulled you into the pastel green, red, blue, and yellow dreamscape, pulling you up a wooden tower, where you would be shielded by the railing.

The two of you sat against the railing and waited while a security guard checked the place before closing.

The mischief had made the two of you even more giggly, scratchy throats producing choppy snickering, as you leaned into each other on the wood, breathing in each other’s air. You liked being so close to him, you thought, and you were almost high enough to just spit it out. The distant stream of light overhead revealed his pores, but you liked those too.

“Shut up, shut up,” Jeonghan whispered at one point. “I think he might be coming!”

“You’ve said that three times-”

His hand clasped over your mouth and he fought not to laugh at the surprise in your eyes. Sure enough, this time he was right, as you heard booted footsteps in the distance, and the beam of a flashlight danced across the sloping and bouncing playground.

You held your breath, not only because you feared, for the first time that night, getting caught, but also because Jeonghan had leaned so close to you, that you could see every stirred acrylic in his eye, every color of brown, swirly sundae.

Both of you stopped laughing and stared at each other.

His hand dropped from your lips.

“I have cotton mouth,” he whispered, footsteps fading away. You couldn’t tell if it was the weed or what, but the air seemed thicker and you felt heavier, like imaginary hands were tugging you down. Jeonghan was no better - you couldn’t quite place the emotion on his glowing face. He almost seemed vulnerable.

“Me too,” you whispered, breathless.

A pause.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, pink and plush.

“Can I kiss you?”

You were almost bristling for a moment in pure surprise, before you recollected yourself and nodded eagerly.

“Yeah.”

You thought his lips would smash into yours; you thought he would conquer you, because that would simply be the most Jeonghan-thing he could, to take what was his, to be cheeky and horny and sleazy.

To your utmost surprise, his hand was shaking when he lifted it, brushing so softly, so gently across the skin of your neck, resting on the back of it, cold from the icy, night breeze. His hand kissed the tips of your hair, and he gently slid it up, breath shaking, as he stared at your lips. Then he leaned in.

His lips were soft like the bouncy castle on the edge of the playground, so impossibly gentle and flowing and warm. He breathed out shakily against your skin, eyes squeezed shut. Had you seen it, you would’ve almost believed that the kiss pained him, with the furrowed brows, but you didn’t, and it wasn’t painful at all, it was just that his heart was exploding and so was yours. Tender and slow, that was what it was, and you had never thought you’d use words like that to describe him.

A moment of entangled lips, slow making out and warm air covering your skin, his hand in your hair. The Sunshine Dance Club was filled with the sound of spit.

Then he pulled away, breath still shaking, but now, less vulnerable. His lips curled into a smile, spreading that childlike joy on his face. It made you smile as well.

“That was-” he shook his head at himself, cringing. Then he restarted: “Can I show you something?”

You chuckled, cheeks heavily flushed and eyes twinkling. “What is it?”

The cheekiness returned to his eyes, as he scrambled to his feet: “A surprise.”

And once again the two of you were giggling through the park, this time hand in hand, looking over your shoulders for the security guard that by this time had definitely gone home. The halted steps over the cobbled paths echoed in the dead, empty park.

It would’ve been a strange feeling - seeing everything closed and dark and empty, every inch usually crammed with people strangely void - had you not been entirely consumed by Jeonghan’s presence. His hand in yours, his laugh, his starry eyes, his face softening when he looked at you.

Jeonghan led you into Belinda’s office (he had a key because he was her favorite, he said), allowing you to sit on the edge of her desk, while he sauntered off into an attached room. You sat there, overhead light dull and buzzing, and basked in the log cabin aesthetics. Your chest was warm.

Then, from beyond the other room, sounding much further away and thereby being much bigger than you had initially imagined the attached room to be, you heard the mechanical sound of several switches. They sounded heavy and important, having a sort of resonance that continued into your room, where Belinda’s desk chair was spun halfway.

“Jeonghan?” you called, a twinge of worry in your voice. “What did you do?”

He came jogging back into the office, all wide grinned and puffy-eyed.

“You’ll see.”

Once again he grabbed onto your hand, pulling you off the desk and barging out of the doorway.

The night air enveloped you completely, stealing you away from the warmth of the office, kissing your warm skin, as you stood on the cobble. The feeling was so great, you almost missed what Jeonghan had done.

It was beautiful.

The switches had turned on the lights everywhere. In every color imaginable, illuminating dramatically sloping tracks in the distance, fairy lights on the pathways, signs re-lit, and the whole park before your eyes seemed to have become a disco-ball, sending faint streaks into the star-spotted sky like aurora borealis.

You, now red and green and yellow and blue, let out a disbelieving laugh, smiling wide. You squeezed his hand, unable to communicate further. There was something about it that left you entirely speechless. It was an inability to overcome and conquer the lights before you - your eyes feasted on them much too eagerly.

“What do you think?”

Jeonghan was looking at you.

“It’s-” you sucked in a breath, trying to compose a sudden sincerity you felt. You looked over at him. “It’s so pretty, Jeonghan. It’s really beautiful.”

“I knew you would like it,” he murmured happily, body turned to yours. You turned to him as well.

There was a moment of silence. The two of you basked in the light and in the gentle glow and the cool night, and in each other.

“Thank you for cheering me up,” you said and pursed your lips. He smiled in a gentle way. It looked nice on him.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “we were having fun.”

The conversation lulled again, and while you turned your head back to the light show, the flickering lights and the ombre, Jeonghan continued looking at you.

You felt his eyes on you, and you turned to him, shyly: “You should look at the beautiful lights.”

He shook his head, lips twisting upwards: “No.. Not right now…” And that was all he said.

The words left a bit of a void in you, like a black hole sunk in your stomach and you turned to him curiously. Jeonghan sensed your confusion, because he licked his lips and gave you a knowing smile, and then explained.

“I wanna kiss you again, love.”

And his voice was so angelic, such a grave contrast to the boy you’d come to know, but he’d been so strange tonight. Your first kiss had been so tender, now he was looking at you and his pupils were dilated and a smirk spread across his face, and you needed to know something; just one thing, before you threw yourself at him, and gave to him, something you would not be able to take back.

“Do you just wanna fuck me?” your voice echoed off the walls of the empty park, resounding accusingly. He laughed.

“Of course, I wanna fuck you, baby,” he laughed a little, shaking his head in disbelief. You stayed staring at him, bristling. “You’re hot as shit.”

“No, I mean,” you paused, because suddenly your heart was climbing into your throat and it seemed like everything you’d worried about was true, that you were just another girl that was hexed by his charms. “Do you just wanna fuck me?”

His smirk dropped. There was a moment where all you could hear was wind and the electrical whirring of the many, many lights, draining energy from the earth by the second.

“Do you honestly think I’d do this for just any girl I wanted to fuck?”

“I-”

“I thought you were smarter than that, N/n,” his lips spread once more in a smile, but this one seemed more fitting on his face - condescending and confident. Whatever vulnerability had hung in the air was replaced by warmer, thicker danger. Was it the weed making you feel this way? On edge or excited?

“I just-” you stammered, feeling bashful suddenly. Did that mean he liked you? Yes, that meant he liked you. You had truly not even considered the possibility, not really thought it through the way you had the negative outcome, so now you were standing and you didn’t know how to respond. A stuttering, blubbering mess of red cheeks and avoidant eyes. “I just- I thought you just- because you talk so much about my boobs-”

“Shhhh,” he shushed you. The cocky motherfucker actually shushed you, staring you down in a way that made you feel like prey and taking two steps forward, and closing the gap between you. He was so, so close to you, chest inches away from yours and leaning his face down to tilt his head at you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he cooed, eyes dancing around your face.

You and him watched it, as one lean hand lifted itself to your chest, tightly wrapped in polyester-fabric. You sucked in a breath. His fingers lightly grazed it, trailing over the soft plushness of it. Then he cupped it, experimentally, like feeling the weight of it in his hand. You whimpered pathetically.

“Hm,” he hummed, ripping his gaze from your tits very briefly at the noise, “you sound so pretty.”

In an effort to steal more noises from your pretty lips, his delicate thumb rubbed over your nipple, watching it harden under the fabric with a bemused smirk. Your breathing became heavy and shaky.

“Can we– please?” you whined, but he only tutted, watching the fat crook under his finger.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I’m having my fun,” he said, nonchalantly, another hand snaking up to your other tit. “Been waiting for this since the first time I saw you.”

You couldn’t help but whimper quietly, his caresses and his intense gaze sending electricity straight to your core. You fingers wrapped around his forearms where they flexed, as he kneaded your chest eagerly.

“That’s right,” he whispered and leaned into you, eyes half lidded and lips wet from spit. “Be a good girl and let me play with your pretty titties.”

Then he kissed you again, groaning into your mouth at the weight of your tits in his hands. His groping became more rough and hurried, as he bit your lip and slipped his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby, need to get your shirt off, it’s so tight,” he groaned, licking into your mouth. You whined, back arching into his hand. “Poor baby, shirt so tight it’s strangling your pretty tits.”

“Jeonghan, please!” You cried, putting one hand on his chest to push him away from you. He pulled away, lips red and swollen and cheeks delightfully flushed.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, comfortingly. “Okay, okay, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”

You could cry. The way he was touching you so intimately, but refusing to snake his hand down to your burning core, where you could feel yourself fucking dripping. Your body was on fire and your voice was hoarse from the weed that still coursed through your body.

“Please, please,” you mumbled, and it was desperate enough that Jeonghan pulled his hands from your chest (which took more willpower than he was willing to admit), sliding them over your back and pulling you into him. You nosed into the crook of his neck, sighing happily.

“Alright, baby,” He breathed, hand in your hair. You felt his neck crane, looking around.

“Come with me, baby, I know just where to go.”

You didn’t even have time to whine that you didn’t want to go anywhere, you wanted him to touch you. Jeonghan grabbed your hand and crossed the pathway, and you saw the yellow, lit-up sign for the funhouse before you disappeared into the entrance.

The first room had a large circular hallway, and when you stepped onto the red plastic, it rolled a little. You and Jeonghan both stumbled rockily, and you nosedived into his chest. He laughed, steadying you with warm fingers on your waist. “Silly girl,” his voice cooed in your ear.

“Jeonghan, please touch me-”

“We’re almost there, baby,” he said, and he was being a little annoying, because he’d just played with your boobs and made you so fucking wet that your panties were sticking to your folds, and now he was trudging you through the hallways of a funhouse. You both skiddered out of the circular hallway with much trouble.

The next room was slanted, and in your intoxicated mind, this was more than a challenge. The whole room was blue and your knuckles became celeste, as you gripped the slanted railing.

“Jeonghan, I can’t-”

Not another word out of your lips, before Jeonghan was scooping you up in his arms, walking with seemingly no problem through the room. “Shit!” you yelped when he did so, but he only smiled at you, a mixture of adoration and teasing. He ran with you, his bride, through a black and white doorway.

The next room was the mirror maze, and Jeonghan’s face lit up at the sight of it.

“We’re here!” he panted giddily, gently lowering you. You found your footing and looked around, a little speechless at how quickly he’d constructed this plan. There were at least 20 different angles of you, and you cringed at your own disheveled appearance and how your tiny shirt dug into your skin. A hall of reflection, the roof and flooring was pitch black and only you and him existed in the void, copycats at every corner.

You saw Jeonghan in the mirror, walking up behind you. He was smirking, planting his head on your shoulder and peering up at you, as his hands caressed your waist, riding up your shirt and exposing your stomach 20 times over. You hated to say it, but seeing his veiny, big hands on you made your breath hitch.

“Was it not worth it, hmm?” he sang innocently, blinking at you with a bunched up cheek on your shoulder. His sleazy hands worked the fabric upwards, just under the impressive bump of your chest.

His eyes flicked over to the most nearby mirror. Breath becoming shaky, his hands lifted the shirt, finally, over your chest, exposing your simple, black bra and the soft skin of your tits. You could breathe easier, without the fabric digging into your chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, soft hands immediately dipping inwards to touch over the skin. “Shit, you’re so perfect,” his voice was strangled, all composure gone as he looked at your chest with something akin to wonder.

You moaned, feeling his dick, fully fucking hard from just playing with your soft mounds, grinding into your ass. Like a horny teenage boy, he moaned shakily, big hands covering your boobs and squeezing, and rutting into you from behind. As much as you wanted him to touch you, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Jeonghan so utterly fucked out, using your body to pleasure himself. It was so erotic, the way his pretty face twisted in place and his fingers dug into the fat of your chest, panting into your neck. Then the sight untangled itself from your body.

“Sorry, sorry,” he was out of breath, removing his hips from your ass. “I got too caught up.”

“It’s okay-”

He spun you around, pushing your body against the mirror. You stood back to back with your reflection.

“No, it’s not,” he breathed, working your shirt the rest of the way off hastily. You lifted your arms to help the fabric off.

You very barely registered Jeonghan snaking your pants off, and then his own clothes. You leaned your head on the mirror and you could finally breathe without the tight shirt, and you somehow felt stronger, not vulnerable like you would have expected. And when your eyes flicked to another mirror and you saw Jeonghan shirtless too, you realized the two of you were much more similar now.

Jeonghan was standing in his boxers now, and you in your panties.

“You know, I always thought you’d be more composed during sex,” you mused, returning your focus to him and smiling teasingly, because even now he was transfixed on your bare chest, heaving for air. Jeonghan scoffed, seemingly genuinely offended by this.

“It’s not my fault your fat fucking rack has been staring at me through that tiny fucking shirt every day,” he spat, and in a sort of retaliation he cupped your pussy through your panties.

Finally, he touched your cunt, and God, was it worth the wait, because it shot straight through your stomach, even the slightest touch on the cold, wet fabric. Jeonghan grinned cockily at the state of your underwear.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased. “Your pussy is fucking weeping for me.”

You moaned and your back twisted against the cold surface of the mirror, as Jeonghan slipped his finger upwards to circle your clit slowly.

“N-ngh, fuck..”

“There you go,” he said in fake sympathy, pouting, and even with his hand on your clit, you could almost believe it, because he just looked that angelic and pure. “Finally your greedy cunt has my hand, hm? Bet you’ve been thinking about this since we met.”

He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his free up to your chest again. It just looked so delectable, unblemished skin, jiggling at every twitch and shake from you, and nipples hardened to pebbles. “I’ve been thinking about you since we met,” he sighed happily, pinching the nipples between his fingers and relishing in your strangled whine.

Jeonghan slipped his hand in your panties, scoffing to himself at just how fucking wet you were, leaking from your hole like a slut, when his finger prodded at it.

“P-Please, Jeonghan, please, fuck-”

Your plea was cut off by Jeonghan’s hand gripping your throat. He smirked at your tortured expression, one hand circling your hole and the other wrapped around your neck, thumb climbing up your chin to rest on your lip.

“What do you want?” he tilted his head challengingly. You gulped, face flushed and baby hairs sticking to your sweat-gleamy face.

“I-I want you to finger me,” you mustered, building up all the courage you could to hold eye contact with him and his lopsided grin. He raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise.

“Really?” he sang, “you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Of course, all those moments of shaming him for thirsting over you. Now you were basically fucking naked, tits perked up from your arched back and writhing under him for just a single finger in your glistening hole.

“Jeonghan, I’m sorry-”

His thumb on your lip tugged downwards, effectively muffling your words and shushing you. He watched your pretty lip bend to the will of his thumb, humming.

“Then say it,” he shrugged.

“Wha?” your speech was slurred by his heavy thumb.

“Say you want gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up your tight, pink pussy,” he repeated, acting exasperated, like it was your fault for not being able to keep up. Legs spread and utterly naked, you flushed and felt dumb, and you felt even dumber when you began to speak, and his thumb stayed where it was, weighing down your lip.

“I-I wan’ gross, sleazy, perverted Jeonghan’s fingers up my tight, pink pussy,” you slurred. Somehow the embarrassment translated into a wave of slick exciting your hole and landing on Jeonghan’s hand. He grinned at your obedience, hand pushing up so his thumb entered your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and the rest of his hand cradled your face.

“Good girl,” he purred, head craned down to look at you, suckling his thumb with wide eyes. He finally heeded your request, two fingers pushing into your sopping heat. “Now suck on my thumb like the good, big-titted girl you fucking are while I make you cum.”

He was immediately bullying his fingers in and out of you, curling them. Drool escaped where your lips wrapped around his thumb, as you moaned on it, feeling him poke and prod at your tongue with an evil smirk on his pretty face. You saw his dick print straining against his boxers in the corner of your vision.

“Been waiting for this pussy to be mine,” hummed Jeonghan, long eyelashes coming over his eyes when he looked down at you. “You know, if you’d been a little more cooperative I could’ve had my cock in you everyday for the past week.”

You sobbed around his thumb, panting for air through your nose. His fingers felt so good, pistoning into you and so thin you could feel the bulge of each crooking knuckle churning in and out. His thumb sneaked back up to rub your clit again, and you clawed at his shoulders, trying to stabilize your suddenly shaking legs.

Jeonghan let out the most erotic, guttural moan you’d ever heard, when he watched drool slip from your swollen, red lips and languidly ooze on your trembling chest. His face twisted in pleasure at the sight of them, becoming all shiny and slicked up from your own spit.

“Fuck, you’re so pathetic. Can’t believe you’re fucking drooling all over your tits,” he spat, cheeks flushed as he leaned back to look at them, all pretty and slick and glowing under the maze’s fluorescent tubes. He slipped his thumb from your mouth to begin smearing the spit all over your skin.

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching as something in your belly tightened. You heaved for air, moaning loudly into the maze and practically crying.

“F-Fuck, Hannie, f-feels s’ good!” you whined, chest thrashing under his needy hands. He lifted his gaze to smile at you, where he was crooked over to look closely at your spit-slick boobs.

“I know, baby, I know. Cum on my fingers, now, m’kay?” He smiled cheekily, pressing especially hard on your clit. You saw white, orgasm so potent, you almost didn’t even register how Jeonghan dived into your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples

The wet, smacking of his lips and his pleased humming into the soft skin only spurred on your orgasm, as your cum coated Jeonghan’s fingers. His nose, buried in the flesh of your tit, breathed out a dam of warm air into it.

His fingers stilled within you, slowly pulling out, while he continued to lap at your chest, warm tongue on your areola. You tried to catch your breath, but it was hard with how he moaned around your fucking tit, sucking and smacking his lips, while holding you to him. You cried out softly when he nibbled at it, to which he finally pulled away, smiling teasingly.

There was something about the way he was so shameless about it, that almost made you feel even more ashamed, especially when you saw your form in the mirror, and how wet and red your boob was from his insistent sucking. You blushed deeply.

“You gettin’ shy on me now?” he tapped your cheek, eyes twinkling.

“Not used to seeing myself,” you mumbled sheepishly. Jeonghan’s ever lust-filled gaze was overtaken with a very deep, fundamental adoration. His smile became genuine - not teasing nor in feigned sympathy. Despite being the sexiest person he’d ever met, Jeonghan found you so severely cute in that moment, all heaved breaths and glossy lips and rosy cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, tapping your nose. The action would’ve been annoying were not entirely too fond of him at this moment. His eyes wandered, trailing down your collarbones and back to your cleavage. Then returned the lust: “Beautiful, pretty, gorgeous girl with big, bouncing fuckin’ tits.”

His fascination with them was genuinely insane, but you thought he was pretty and sweet, so you let him marvel.

As if he could never get enough, he reached out one hand and cupped your tit again.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your pretty tits?” Jeonghan asked, experimentally pressing the mounds together and licking his lips at the sight. He had to swallow (and he would never admit this) because the idea actually had him salivating.

“Yes, Hannie,” you said sweetly, because although you really wanted his dick inside you, he had that twinkle in his eye that made your heart burst, and, indeed, you would do anything to keep the starlight blazing in his pupils. Jeonghan looked up with raised brows - this time, the surprise was not feigned. Swiftly, he grabbed your head and kissed you, deeply and appreciatively licking into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he murmured, rowing the two of you away from the mirror-wall with his tongue down your throat. “Good fucking girl.”

He pulled away from you, frantically looking around, and you simply waited for his command. He began to crawl onto the floor, lying down on the hard, sleek black flooring, resting on his elbows.

“C’mere,” was all he said, and you sat down on top of him, confused. He wantonly pushed you by your shoulder so you rested further down, while he lifted his hip to free his cock.

It was long and right by your fucking face.

Impossibly pretty and pink near the tip, it oozed sticky, white liquid, dripping down the veiny side, and now you were salivating, because you almost wanted to take it in your mouth and suck his soul out.

“Shit,” he groaned, studying your face next to his hard, heavy dick with a tortured expression on his face. It seemed his thoughts had traveled the same road as yours, because when he spoke, he said: “There’s so much I wanna do to you, doll. Give me another couple shifts, I’ll have your cum all over the fucking park.”

Without another word, he leaned forward and grabbed each of your tits, hovering just below where his dick extended out, proud and tall like a gothic church. You helped by crawling further over his tan body, lying down on your stomach with your chest raised up.

Jeonghan enclosed your tits around his dick, breath shaking and eyes blinking shut. The sounds he released were angelic, wetting and rewetting his fiery lips, and he struggled to keep his eyes open from the pleasure. He didn’t want to close them though, because the sight of you was insane.

You were so pretty, smiling in adoration where you laid between his legs. Prettiest girl in the world, he thought, just letting him bounce your fat tits up and down his shaft like a good, obedient girl. Your rack was like a fucking cloud around him, jerking him off and spurting pre-cum on the already slick skin.

“S-Shit, you’re so fucking- pretty-” he stuttered, breath trembling and face flushed. From every angle he saw you, perfect, pretty, cute and sweet you. Every version of you in the mirror was perfect, he realized, every copycat a perfect picture.

“You’re pretty,” you mused, wrapping your hand around the lower part of his shaft where your tits didn’t quite reach and squeezing it. Jeonghan moaned, stammering the breathy noise. He gulped then.

“I-I’m gonna cum, shit-” he sucked in a harsh breath. He could not believe how lovely you were, how witty and funny and sweet and how big your fucking tits were bouncing up and down around his cock. “C-Can I cum on them, baby?”

“Of course, Hannie,” you obeyed sweetly, watching how he desperately bucked his hips upwards. Squeezing your hand around the base of his cock, you let out a final admission to help him cum: “Want you to cum on my tits, Hannie, want it so bad.”

Sure enough, it was that easy, because without warning long ropes of thick, white cum spurted into the valley of your breasts and climbed up to your collarbones and neck. Jeonghan cried out when he came, eyes finally squeezing totally shut and hips stuttering into your chest. He sounded angelic, even with his voice hoarse from the weed and grunting.

You let him calm down, waited until his pants turned into soft, regular breaths, and released his now flaccid cock from your cleavage.

“Oh shit, baby,” he sighed happily. “Come up here.”

You crawled up to his chest, curling into his open arms and feeling him under your cheek. Your legs entangled on the funhouse floor, mirrors a little foggy from the sweat and the sex. It was perfect, lying in his chest, having him, knowing he wanted you and liked you. Perfectly timeless, you draped over each other limply.

Or almost perfect.

You wiggled your hips away from his body, hoping then he wouldn’t notice how you were still leaking from your poor, puffy hole. Jeonghan frowned when you did so, though, both hands grabbing your waist and tilting his head down to look at you.

“What is it, baby?” he asked.

You looked away bashfully, shaking your head, but Jeonghan gripped your face in one hand, just as condescending as his thumb had been earlier: “You’re covered in my cum, baby. You’re not getting shy on me now. Tell Hannie what’s troubling you.”

His voice was stern. You tightened your lips the best you could with his hand squeezing your cheeks together.

“I just..” you were embarrassed again, with how your words became muffled and slurred by his flexed hand. He paid it no mind though, looking at you intently to continue.

“YouweresoprettyearlierIgotwetagain.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. From beyond the dark void, you heard Jeonghan laughing. You opened your eyes and he removed his hand from your face, instead brushing it through your hair lovingly.

You were gonna get whiplash with how lovingly he looked at you, how sweetly and with so much wonder and adoration; and how it stood in such a stark contrast to the words that left his mouth:

“Baby, you just get up and bounce your fat tiddies around a little bit, I promise you, I’ll get hard in the next five fucking minutes. Then you can get my cock in your cute, greedy pussy. How’s that sound?”

Really fucking good.

2K notes · View notes

lecsainz · 7 months

Text

BEEN MINE

request: that one where you and charles have been friends since childhood and end up together

pairings: charles leclerc x friend!f1driver!reader

authors note: It was a request from a while ago, and it was in my drafts, so I decided to finish it, but I couldn't find the request box 😭

✩. . . masterlist !

liked by charles_leclerc , redbullracing , and 1.783.809 others

yourinstagram week of tests and a bit of my veryyyy boring holidays for you guys.

view all 10.527 comments

ynismylife can't wait to see you racing this season

danielricciardo gonna kick some butts, girl!

⤷ yourinstagram I'll kick yours, danny!

⤷ danielricciardo oh, don't even

tswift the best of the grid

yourmom so proud of you my little baby

⤷ yourinstagram love you ❤️

⤷ landonorris “little baby” 😂

⤷ yourinstagram shut up, head square

landonorris still can't believe you ditched me to team up with max.

⤷ yourinstagram what can I say, lando, I love energy drinks! 😝

⤷ landonorris just smuggle some to my garage, we're good

⤷ yourinstagram deal!

⤷ landonorris 🤝

mcslaren her in the RBR uniform is gonna be the death of me.

⤷ monzaaaaa she must look smoking hot

charles_leclerc see you on the track, Y/N/N

⤷ yourinstagram ready to eat dust, leclerc?

⤷ charles_leclerc I never, but you...

⤷ yourinstagram we'll see, charles, we'll see.

redbullracing check out our new driver! we're thrilled to have you on the team, Y/N!

f1girly SHE IS SO MY WIFE

⤷ ynmine no she is MINE

maxverstappen1 can't wait to go for a run together, mate!

⤷ yourinstagram same here max.

⤷ 44hamiton not max calling her a mate 😭

yourinstagram - 4hrs ago

seen by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo and 12.681.879 others

charles_leclerc — 5hrs ago

seen by carlossainz55 , maxverstappen1 and 6.827.971 others

liked by charles_leclerc , kendalljenner , and 2.683.729 others

yourinstagram definitely wasn't my best race, but hey, I made it to the podium! yeah, I'm gonna copy my grid mates, a.k.a. lando and daniel, and post more random pics. nah, I'm never making an insta for this; I always forget the password I set.

tag: danielricciardo , charles_leclerc , maxverstappen1, landonorris

view all 17.628 comments

charles_leclerc y/n, you gotta be kidding me with this pic!

⤷ yourinstagram but it's your bestie's best shot!

⤷ charles_leclerc I hate you, stinker

⤷ yourinstagram you're the stinker, percival

vsttapen RBR on 🔝!

landonorris since when do you remember anything?

⤷ yourinstagram lando, I just forgot your birthday, no biggie

⤷ landonorris NO BIGGIE????

foryn I'm just loving Y/N's era in red bull

yourbestie miss you 😢

⤷ yourinstagram me too sweetheart 😭

charles_leclerc since when do you root for the lakers, muffin?

⤷ yourinstagram always have.

⤷ charles_leclerc not gonna comment

⤷ yourinstagram boring 😑

danielricciardo when? where? and why did you take this pic of me?

⤷ yourinstagram I've got way more where that came from, danny.

⤷ danielricciardo y/n, you're scaring me

ferrariclub Y/N dropping a bunch of memes for us was just what I needed

lewishamilton we gotta set up a playdate for roscoe and [your dog name]

⤷ yourinstagram OMG! we need that, lew.

sebastianvettel you had an awesome race, kiddo!

⤷ yourinstagram thanks, seb ❤️

lecciardo we need posts like this every week!

maxverstappen1 should've posted a pic of us on the podium, mate.

⤷ yourinstagram couldn't find any good ones 😭

⤷ maxverstappen1 what do you mean?

⤷ yourinstagram charles_leclerc was photobombing like crazy.

⤷ charles_leclerc why am I still your friend?

⤷ yourinstagram cause you love me.

⤷ landonorris friend?

⤷ yourinstagram yeah, just a friend, lando!

ynandcharles I'm dying from this comment thread.

liked by carlossainz55, taylorswift , and 18.362.071 others

charles_leclerc you are the best thing that's ever been mine

tag: youristagram

view all 23.681 comments

yourinstagram and every time I look at you, it's like the first time

ynfirst the caption 😭😭😭

landonorris finally, you guys spilled the beans, I couldn't hold onto this anymore.

⤷ yourinstagram the first time you kept a secret!

⤷ danielricciardo HOW DID LANDO KNOW AND I DIDN'T

⤷ landonorris DON'T WANNA KNOW, DANIEL (I accidentally caught them both in the act, traumatized to this day 🤮)

f1gossip I TOLD YOU!!!!

carlossainz55 can I be the wedding godfather, lovebirds?

⤷ yourinstagram of course!

⤷ charles_leclerc yes!

⤷ landonorris can I be too?

⤷ yourinstagram NO

sainzmyluv my folks

arthur_leclerc congrats! and officially welcome to the leclerc family, yourinstagram

⤷ yourinstagram thanks arth ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc you seemed more hyped when we told you

⤷ arthur_leclerc oh cmon I am the fan number 1 of yncharles!

hrryswif them being a swiftie couple >>>>>

maxverstappen1 I couldn't stand Y/N talking about charles all day, and now it's going to be even worse.

⤷ yourinstagram MAX! I don't talk about him all the time

⤷ maxverstappen1 YES, YOU DO.

lorenzotl Y/N dating the rival, christian won't like that very much...

⤷ yourinstagram I'm going to steal ferrari's strategies 😎

⤷ charles_leclerc I knew there was something behind it

⤷ yourinstagram LOVE, WAIT, I CAN EXPLAIN!

yourmom pascal and I always knew you two would end up together

⤷ pascal_leclerc we'll have to rethink our plans for their wedding.

⤷ yourinstagram oh no

⤷ charles_leclerc MOM, WE HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED DATING PROPERLY YET.

⤷ pascal_leclerc it's never too early to have everything planned, dear

yourbestie yourinstagram, you sneaky! why didn't you tell me, but you make a HOT couple

⤷ yourinstagram calling you now, bitch

2K notes · View notes

astranva · 11 months

Text

Instagram Live

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.

There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.

There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.

However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.

Harry’s normal girlfriend.

Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.

It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.

Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.

yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.

“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.

user1: OMG HEY BESTIE

user2: PLEASING

user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE

user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?

“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”

user5: you’re still studying?

user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS

user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been

user8: do you miss harry?

“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”

user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?

user10: I hope you’re joking

user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH

You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”

user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING

user12: HARRY

user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH

harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.

user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY

You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”

user2: I CAN’T BREATHE

harrystyles: Oops.

harrystyles: Have you eaten?

user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS

“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”

user4: share the recipe bestie

harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.

harrystyles: Breakfast?

“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”

user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this

user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together

user16: I want to sit on a highway

harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮

You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”

paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN

user7: PAULI IS HERE

harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.

“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”

harrystyles: PAULI

user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING

paulithepsm: HARRY

paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭

user18: PLS

harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.

harrystyles: Show me your nails.

You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”

user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT

harrystyles: I’ll match with you.

“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.

harrystyles: OKAY ❤

user3: HE’S SO CUTE

user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL

jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.

You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”

harrystyles: Agreed.

harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.

user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS

jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that

“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”

harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤

user20: I just want to be her

harrystyles: I love your outfit.

“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”

user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE

user7: she’s so cute

harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.

You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.

user18: LMFAOOOOO

user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE

jeffazoff: Scandalous

harrystyles: OH FUCK

harrystyles: 😎

You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”

harrystyles: Call me?

user20: I’m not okay

You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff blurb

3K notes · View notes

landososcar · 2 days

Text

wonderland ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x bookworm!reader

summary ; in which lando’s girlfriend loves books and lando loves whatever she does

warnings ; nothing but pure fluff :)

note ; lol this is short but i found it in my drafts from ages ago & i completely forgot i had written it lmfao (++ the title is irrelevant, i couldn’t think of one and i love this song so i was like that’ll do)

twitter !

instagram ; lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, flonorris1 and others

lando.jpg she said she didn’t have enough pics to fulfil your photo dump dreams so here are some pics to make up for your lack of y/n lately

view all comments

flonorris1 you’re OBSESSED

landonorris what’s your point

user1 lando get OFF your knees

user2 he had all of these in his camera roll😭😭

user3 better yet he probs took them all

user4 what was she reading ??

landonorris in the second pic she was reading to me and it was little women (of course). in the 4th pic im not sure what book it is but ill ask her now

landonorris she said the book in the 4th pic is called ‘throttled’ by lauren asher

user5 omg who’s gonna tell him what y/n was reading

user6 SHE WAS READING THROTTLED YHATS SO ICONIC😭😭😭😭

oscarpiastri landonorris mate lily just told me what throttled is i think you should google it

user6 the difference between little women and throttled is so funny i love y/n’s taste in books😭

user7 i would die for her

olivernorris1 yourusername this man is so obsessed with you it’s actually hilarious

yourusername i 🫶 my obsessed boyfie

user8 y/n we (your children) miss you come back home

instagram ; yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and others

yourusername hell was the journey but it brought me heaven 🩵

view all comments

user1 MOTHER IS BACK 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

user2 omg who’s kid is that

user3 it’s y/n’s little brother

user4 THATS SO ADORABLE😭😭

landonorris you’re so obsessed with me

yourusername LOL ok mr whole jpg post dedicated to me

landonorris i said you were obsessed with me, i never denied being obsessed with you

flonorris1 you’re so so beautiful i miss you so much😭

yourusername STOP IT I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU MORE THAN ANHTHING

flonorris1 landonorris fly me and cisca out to bahrain pls bestie

landonorris ok just bc i know how badly my sisters wanna see me race

ciscanorris1 HAHAHHAHA ok yes sure

user5 i love the way she is with his sisters omg😭

lilymhe i miss you gf😭😭🫶

yourusername im in the uk next week pls tell me you are too

lilymhe OMG message me right now

user6 HE😭SENT😭HER😭MOON😭PICS😭

user7 more importantly HE😭LOOKED😭AT😭THE😭MOON😭AND😭THOUGHT😭OF😭HER😭

user8 shut up i’m gonna be sick

user9 omg where’d you get your tattoo i want a taylor lyric and yours is so so nice

yourusername avastattooparlour is the only person i’ll ever let tattoo me 🥰 i would trust them with my life please go see ava, they’re incredible 😭😭

yourusername just added to their story !

seen by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and others

landonorris replied to your story!

→ babe what is this

→ WHO said you were allowed to look that fine

→ have you been hacked

→ are you reading binding 13 AGAIN

→ no

→ i’ve already reread it, im up to keeping 13

→ dear god

landonorris is live on twitch !

[transcript]

[LN: hey chat we’re gonna play some games tonight i’m just waiting for y/n to bring me snacks.]

[LN: yes yes y/n will be here soon guys chill out.]

[LN: “we want y/n” yes guys i know you like my girlfriend more than you like me but chill out.]

[YN: chat know i’m the best i don’t know what to tell you.

LN: thank you for the food baby but can you stop stealing chat’s attention.]

[YN: okay guys i'm gonna go before lan starts crying because we love each other more than we love him.

LN: stop flirting with my chat and go read your book.]

[LN: "what is she going to go read?" uhh i think she's rereading the binding 13 series for the thousandth time. it's like her favourite books of all time and she always rants to me about them.]

[LN: no chat you don't understand, it got to a point where i read the books because she was ranting about them so much and i just wanted to be able to understand what she was talking about.]

[LN: anyways, let's start playing some games before max yells at me for making him wait.

MF: mate you're obsessed with her.]

twitter !

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ackermans-angel · 4 months

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BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!GOJO SATORU | FIC RECS

A/N: Been obsessed with the Brother's Best Friend trope recently, specifically regarding Satoru, and I really wanted to share my favorite fics created by the amazing writers listed below. ALSO I wanted to do this because I haven't made one of these recommendation lists in awhile, and I love to do them number one to help promote the writers I love, and number two because when I find a trope I love with a character I wish I had a list like this to just find fics instantly LMAOOO. PLEASE feel free to recommend me your favorite brother's best friend fics if you know anymore and FEEL FREE to send me an ask at anytime if you're searching for fics of a certain trope I'd be happy to make more lists. Now enough of my yapping, I got ahead of myself and I'm posting this now but I'll update as I find more fics.

WARNING: I WON’T BE MORE CLEAR ON THIS! If you proceed to these accounts make sure to look at the rules and warnings. please respect the account owner, as most of them don’t want people under 18 on them. ALWAYS READ WARNINGS ON FICS TO INSURE YOU ARE RESPECTING THE WRITERS GUIDELINES!!!

One more thing! IF YOU LIKE A FIC PLEASE REBLOG NO MATTER THE ACCOUNT! The easiest way to show a creator you care and that their work is being appreciated is to reblog reblog reblog! They spend hours of their time creating work FOR US. The least we can do is REBLOG!

accounts under the cut. (last updated January 4th, 2024.)

IF IT’S ONLY A TOUCH…AITA? by @tteokdoroki This one is so good and the most recent one I read. It's the perfect amount of angst and smut. It does have some descriptions of the reader having braids, darker skin, and brown eyes so if you don't like when it's not vague about how the reader looks then this is probably not for you. However, those descriptions do not match me at all and I didn't have a problem while reading at all. I think you should definitely give it a read if you like the brother best friend trope!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND by @cptnleviackerman This one was so good for it only having so few notes. definitely go hype this one up because it deserves it. Read the tags before you continue on though because some of the themes could be triggering! Other then that this one was super good.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FUCK YOUR BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND? (FOUR WHOLE DAYS) by @saetoru SOOO GOOD. I love this fic so please go check this one out!

CRYBABY. by @ieirism AHHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE. This one was soooooo goood. It is really fluffy and has so much sweet satoru. love love love.

TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME by @awearywritersworld I completely forgot about this one but from what I can remember it was really sweet. All angst and fluff and omg their dynamic after sugurus death is just so sweet.

YOUNGER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND GOJO by @satocidal this is just a little drabble but the smut>>>>> that's all I have to say. go read!!

#gojo satoru #brother's best friend!Gojo Satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu satoru #jjk x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #satoru angst

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren��t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

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bb-eilish · 9 months

Text

Blooming Eyes

pairing; collegeathlete!anakinx flowershopworker!reader

summary; After accidentally knocking over another student with her painting, Y/n seems to have caught the eye of him. The same eyes that stare at her, blue and intense have trapped her, so she does what she does best; paint.

word count; 14.5k

warnings; P in v sex, multiple smut scenes, rough sex, romantic sex, mutual pining, obsession, dirty talk, name-calling, dumbification, making out( so much kissing omg), cunnilingus, creampie, etc etc

Working and going to school wasn’t fun, Y/n’s sure nobody has ever said it was. Though, her job was, oddly, pretty nice. She worked in a flower shop for Christ's sake, she was around nice people, and even nicer flowers.

School on the other hand was not as enjoyable. Y/n was in school for painting, and because of these two things people were able to figure her out easily. A sensitive woman who owns multiple cats, some even going as far as labeling her a "crazy cat lady" and trying to decipher her mental health for some reason.

She didn't let that bother her though, she lived a cozy life and for that she was grateful.

"I'll miss you." She pouts at her cat. The fluffy white one, Cherry, brushed against her legs as Y/n crouched, she briefly licked Y/n's fingers before rubbing her furry face against them. The woman smiled softly at the white fluff ball as she swept her hand down the cat's furry back.

"Don't think I forgot about you Mr. Grumpy pants." Y/n smiles as she steps over to her other cat, the broody void named Bear. He was curled up on top of her couch cushion, hiding his pouty face as she baby-talked. "I'll miss you too." The black cat uncurled to stretch and play with Y/n's fingers. She finally grabbed her backpack, the large canvas she had to drag to class, and waved at the two cats before opening and shutting the door to her apartment.

Traffic wasn't too bad, though, she wouldn't mind if it was. She enjoys blasting music and singing as loud as she wants. It was therapeutic. But, as she was pulling into the parking lot infront of the art building, she turned a little too sharp and the canvas in her backseat went flying. A mantra of "shit shit shit shit shit" flew out of her mouth as she parked and prayed it didn't break. Y/n whips around and inspects the item before slumping down in relief.

Now, the worst part, getting this monstrosity into class without injuring her fellow classmates.

"Sorry, 'scuse me." She mutters as she sidesteps and tip-toes through a crowd of people. A large clock sits on the wall of the building she's facing and, of course, it reads ‘9:29’. Her class starts at 9:30, she knows college professors are more lenient but she didn’t get that kind of teacher.

She loves her art class, absolutely adores it, but the teacher is a bit of a stickler and will kick students out if they're more than a minute late. Y/n thankfully spots the brick building just in time. Suddenly, "Go long" is yelled from beside her. Whipping her head around, she spots a student who is obviously an athlete and rolls her eyes, turning back to look in front of her.

But that would, simply, be too easy. Her canvas completely bulldozes over somebody as she turned around for half a second. "Oh my god." She spoke, not at the man on the ground, but at the freshly ripped hole right in the center of her painting. Terror paints her face as she stares at it. "Watch where you're going maybe." One of the guy's friends says.

"My painting.." She says as the man on the ground gets up. She's about to apologize when the clock from before chimes at 9:30, her eyes widen more, if possible, so she offers a mumbled "Sorry" before scrambling off.

"Are you okay, Anakin?"

"Yea...I'm fine." He lets out, still a little stunned. Not at him being basically tackled, but at her. He's never seen her before, but he couldn't think of a better way to run into her. He shakes his head and catches up with his friends, momentarily turning behind him to see if he's able to catch a glimpse of the canvas through the crowd of students.

Y/n successfully makes it on time, she flies down into her seat after setting the canvas on the project table.

"Nice to see you all again." Her teacher begins, but Y/n tunes him out. As she relaxes into her chair she can't help but think back to the guy she rushed into, guilt fills her as she realized she never properly said sorry. She can't even recall what the guy looks like.

Later that day she walks around the flower shop, fixing up and watering some of the plants. It's so relaxing, she smiles at each one before moving on to the next. Soon the door swings open to a rowdy group of boys, all of them well over 6'0 as they leer over the shelves of flowers. She catches a bit of their conversation, "What do you think she would like? I know I fucked up, flowers will help, trust me. Girls eat that shit up." She rolls her eyes at that, continuing to care for the various flowers.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes catch her, they continue to lock onto her, even when she disappears into the backroom.

The boys ring the bell on the desk, a little too much and a little too rough. She licks her teeth in annoyance as she steps out to the checkout counter. There's about 4 of them and she'd rather be buried alive than have to talk to them. It's unbelievably intimidating as they stare at her while she's checking out the bouquet of flowers they settled on.

"That'll be $15.99." She mutters, looking up and making eye contact with one of them. His eyes are intense, but not in the same way as the others. She feels hooked, almost like she was lured into a trap. She gulps quietly before looking back down, putting away the money, and offering them change.

"Have a nice day and come again." She says, the last part coming out as they stare at each other once more. They only look away after the door opens and closes again. She's not sure if he looks back at her because she turns and zips into the backroom.

Friday, finally. She doesn't have school today, she only works. Her shift doesn't start until 4.

So, until then, she sits and does nothing. It's wonderful, she adores laying on her couch with her cats. Today was a bit different though, the stranger's eyes appeared in her head at every turning corner. It brought along a wave of goosebumps and quick heartbeats. Y/n has no idea why she's so drawn to him, but she is and it has completely blindsided her.

"Alright guys, I'll be home soon enough." Is said to her cats, more for herself honestly. Her shift went per usual, the people were back to being polite, no rowdy men who are incredibly enticing.

The next day, though, was unusual.

The bells she adores chime and ring as she enters the shop, checking in and greeting Marleen, the store owner. "Anything interesting happen recently?" Y/n asks, trying to make conversation as she gets out the watering can for the flowers. Marleen walks behind the cash register as she thinks, "Kind of, a man came in here and walked around for a little bit the other day, didn't buy anything, and then sat outside on the bench for another 10 minutes before leaving."

Y/n furrows her eyebrows, "That's strange." The conversation ends there as she goes to the back of the green house outside and fills up the can, dragging it back and watering the flowers.

An hour or two goes by before a few people come in, she's snipping some of the leaves as one of them gets her attention. The bell chimes once more behind her but she doesn't look. "Can I help you?" She asks, turning towards the man with a smile on her face. "Yes, would you happen to know anything about taking care of plants?"

She smiles brighter at that, "I do, whats the problem?"

"Well, my cactus is starting to turn a darker green or black color at the bottom and it's becoming softer. I'm not sure what to do." The man says, nibbling his lip. Y/n nods before asking, "How often do you water it per week?"

The man raises his eyebrows, "I water it everyday, is that bad?"

She hums, "There's your issue, root rot. Since it's the spring you only need to water it about every 10 days, that should clear it up. If the rot is more severe you might need to repot and re-soil it."

"I see, thank you so much!" She smiles as they part ways, she goes back to snipping the last of the leaves before retreating back to the backroom to drop off the scissors and then to the counter, waiting for anyone to check out. She spaces out for a second before noticing someone walking up to the front of the counter.

"Hello, did you find everything okay?" She spews off automatically before looking up, seeing it's the man from the other day. Not the loud, obnoxious one, the one with the intense blue eyes.

He softly smiles, "I did." His voice is deep, but inviting and easy to listen to. She grabs the small potted succulent he placed onto the counter before grabbing the scanner and scanning the bottom. She catches his outfit, a black baggy t-shirt and acid-wash black jeans. The simpleness only added to his overall appeal.

"You sure know a lot about plants." He starts, smiling at her. "You must have a lot at home."

She laughs before telling him the price, "I don't actually, I have cats so y'know." She smiles while the man swipes his card, "It'll ask you if you want to add a tip and then you can sign." She says, regarding the card reader. He nods before tapping it a few times and dragging his finger along the screen.

"You look like the type to have cats." He says as he puts his card away, "Is that bad?" Y/n lightly teases. He shakes his head no, "Not at all, it's cute."He says, momentarily reading her name tag. "I'll be sure to come back and ask you for advice if anything happens ." Her heart practically stops in her chest as she laughs, "I'll be expecting you, have a nice day."

"You too, Y/n."

She swallows, watching him leave. "Oh my god." She whispers, she could fill out a diary about him and they only just met. So, thats exactly what she does.

When she returns home, she makes a B-line for the new pocket-sized sketchbook she recently bought. She flips past the drawings of flowers and settles on an empty page. Getting out a pencil and drawing the one thing she remembers the most, his eyes. The intensity of them, his brow bone, she makes sure she incorporates the way they make her feel as well. She even busts out her colored pencils for the blue of his irises.

She would feel embarrassed if she didn't feel a physical feeling before drawing his eyes, her fingers tingle as she draws them, again and again. They stain page after page, some colored, some not. But they all make her feel the same way. When she deems it out of her system for the time being, she checks her clock, stunned to see it was way past 12:00.

But that's okay, the shop isn't open on Sundays.

Her dreams that night were surreal, she fell into his eyes, literally, like they were a hurricane, they swirled her further and further into him. She drowned in his eyes and wouldn’t mind if she did in real life too. When she awakes, there's a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. That day she tries her best to get into her homework and not the alluring customer from her job. At one point she spaces off and doodles along the sides of her psychology homework, it lasts a few moments before she realized what she drew. The same pair of eyes that have been tormenting her, stare back from her homework.

"I'm going crazy." She mumbles, laying her head on the table. Y/n picks herself up after a minute or so. Scribbling down the answer to the last few problems, she throws the paper in her folder and sits down on her couch, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. She's not really sure what's going on with her, she doesn't even know his name. His eyes though, the way they stared at her, brought out a feeling like no other. She decides to occupy herself with tv until she goes to bed, she has art class tomorrow and is well aware of the homework her teacher assigns on Mondays.

—

Pulling into her parking space, she makes a mental note on the art supplies she has to buy. The faint thought of taking her drawings of him to the next level startle her. Is this creepy? She hopes not. It's truly addicting to think about him.

"Happy Monday, everyone. As you're probably expecting, I have an assignment for you." Sighs are heard through the class as he keeps going, "Next Monday you will turn in a painting on something that moves you. Doesn't matter what, but make it have meaning." He finishes. Y/n thinks for a moment about what she'd make, she can feel it at the back of her mind though. She doesn't have to really think that hard about it.

Her job was quiet, only two people came in during the 3 hours she's been there. Her shift ends in 10 minutes and she's excited to pick up some new art supplies, creativity is fresh on her mind, it has the tips of her fingers tingle. So much so, she grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and gets to practicing the same pair of eyes she's come to perfect.

The bells chime and she lets out a "Welcome in." As she usually does. She doesn't look at the door as she shades in the pupil of the eye, she can already see his likeliness shining through the paper. She continues adding details to his eyebrows as she senses something.

"Wow, that's amazing." A deep voice says from over her shoulder. Y/n jumps about 6 feet in the air and just barely keeps in her squeal of terror. He stands back and chuckles, "Didn't mean to scare you, you okay?" He asks, putting a comforting hand on her back.

"Oh yea, I'm fine. And thank you." She tries her best to seem not panicky and caught red handed.

"Can I see it?" He asks her, nodding towards the pad of paper. Okay, now it's time to panic. She can't say no, that would be off putting. Maybe he won't notice the resemblance? She inhales, "Sure, here." She scoots over the paper to him. Her heart stutters in her chest and her palms grow clammy the longer he stares at it.

"These seem familiar." He pauses, she could honestly throw up right now, this can't be happening. "I can't put my finger on it."

She exhales, relief settling over her shoulders as he moves back to the front of the small counter, she shuffles the paper onto the shelf below the register, hoping he doesn't connect any dots.

"I actually came here to ask you something. I'm in botany right now and it's not looking too good for me, I saw how good you are with plants, so I was wondering if you would tutor me? ." Y/n widens her eyes, what did she do in her past life to be rewarded like this?

"Oh, yea, I can do that. When are you free?" She's dreamed about asking him that, different context though, usually it's after he declares his love for her and wants to get married. Tutoring is good too though.

"I'm not working at the moment so any time that works for you probably works for me." He smiles, the motion adds a matching expression to her own face.

"Tomorrow at 6:00?"

"Perfect, does my place work? I'll give you my number." He tells her, waiting eagerly for her to reply.

"I can do that, and here." She grabs her phone from her back pocket. Passing it to him, her bottom lip becomes trapped under her front teeth. Their fingers brush against each other’s as he takes the device from her. Y/n swallows, glancing everywhere but him as he continues. "Here." He passes it back to her, he even put in his name. "Anakin." She states looking up at him. There's a gleam in his eyes, she's not sure what it is but it's accompanied by a teasing smile.

"That's me. Well, I just came here to run that by you, thank you again. I'll talk to you later?" He leans on his hands that are flat on the counter, not so subtly towering over her. The intensity in his eyes comes swooping back as she looks up at him. They trace her very being and it feels like she's forgotten how to breathe.

"I'll make sure to text you after my shift." She smiles at him to the best of her ability, it's hard though, she feels like the only person in the world as he looks at her. It's not a bad feeling, not at all, it makes her feel warm and special.

"I'll be looking forward to it." He let's her know as he walks to the door, turning around to speak to her.

When he leaves and is out of her line of sight, she crumbles. Y/n sits down behind the counter to catch her breath. Her face probably looks like a tomato right now, but she doesn't mind-Y/n has bigger problems. Like having to text him. What should she say?

'Hi' sounds too uninterested.

'Hello' sounds too formal.

'Hey' sounds too much.

She decides she'll cross that bridge when she gets there, she has another hour behind the counter before she can leave.

Turns out, that hour was pure agony. She spaced out the entire time and it STILL felt like years. But, it's bittersweet. As she sits in her car, face lit by the screen of her phone, the empty message bar sits there, she's typed nothing. Y/n knows she's being dramatic, so she huffs and types against her will.

"Hey, this is Y/n."

Then she basically throws her phone into the passenger seat and takes off. The volume of the radio blasts as she grips the steering wheel with a new found urgency.

Just when she opens her door she remembers the supply store. "Goddamnit." She swears she'll go tomorrow.

"Hi, Babies." She greets her cats as they hang around her legs.

It's not very late so she decides to start on her art project. She has a closet full of canvas', so she flips through them. What would make Anakin's eyes pop the most? Y/n doesn't know why she does this to herself, but she picks the biggest one she owns. This time, though, if it rips, she might attack somebody.

She lays the canvas out on her floor, an array of different black and gray pencils sit around her.

She closes her eyes for a moment, visualizing earlier that day. How his eyes pierced her, how he looked down at her. Blindly, she searches for a pencil. The feel of it on her fingers felt amazing, she cracks open her eyes and gets to work. His eyes fill the entire thing in no time and she feels whole. It didn't take long for her to fully sketch out everything, as she gazes at her newest obsession, it sends a jolt of electricity down her back. She breathes before picking up her phone, lungs soon deflating as she sees a text.

'Thought you forgot about me for a second haha'

She spots the time it was sent, 1 hour ago.

She scrambles to open the message app and type actual words.

'I could never and sorry by the way. I was working on my art project, it really cuts me off from the world lol'

He responds a second later;

'You really are a tortured artist lol'

'Here's my address by the way-->'

Y/n knows she'll have to put that into her gps, she's not the best with directions.

'Thanks, I'll be there at 6. Make sure you have the homework you're struggling with and the class textbook'

'I gotchu'

The conversation ends there, she can finally breathe.

School was, well, school, nothing ever happens in her math or english classes. Per usual, her job was the most exciting part of her day that didn't involve Anakin.

So, when she leaves work and heads to the supply store, she picks up the right paint and decides if she needs more brushes or not. As she tosses them in her backseat, she checks the time on her phone, "You have to be kidding me." She grumbles, 5:50. Her fingers quickly punch in his address before she's pulling out of the parking lot. He lives about 15 minutes away and it makes her kind of want to drive off the bridge she's currently driving over.

She speeds the entire way there, thankfully arriving 13 minutes later instead of 15.

In her scrambled state she forgets who's door she's knocking on for a moment, the fear of being late taking over her mind completely. So when Anakin opens the door she grips the wall beside her for support. "Well well, seems you're about 14 minutes late, tsk tsk." He teases as he holds the door open for her.

"I'm so sorry, I had to run to the store to get more paint." She offers, slipping her shoes off.

"Art project you were talking about last night?' Anakin asks, closing the door. Y/n nods, muttering a 'Yea'.

"When am I gonna be able to see it? If it's taking so much of your time it must be good."

Her eyes widen, he wasn't able to decipher the quick sketch at her job, but he would absolutely tell with her painting. She tries to hide her panic, "Maybe if you pass botany." She teases, following him to wherever he's set up at. They come up to his dining room table, papers and textbooks are arranged nicely, it makes her smile.

He takes a seat and pats the one next to him, "C'mon Ms. Artist. Tell me about plants."

She giggles as they begin.

Everything is going well, he's getting questions right and seems fairly knowledgeable on the topic.

"Are you sure you need help? You're doing great, I could hire you at my shop." He gives her a shrug and a laugh, the topic shifting to normal conversation after a little.

"You have two cats?" He asks, body facing her as he leans on an arm.

"Yup, Cherry and Bear, both pieces of my heart." She expects him to laugh at her for saying that, poke fun at her for caring so much for them. But he smiles, "That's cute, I can't lie. Do you have any pictures?" Y/n almost misses his question, her ears still perked up at his compliment.

"Oh, uh, yea." She grabs her phone in her back pocket, swiping through her pictures until she lands on one. Cherry lays on her chest while Bear sits behind her, his head pressed up against the side of her face. It still warms her heart looking at it.

As she shows him the photo, she gauges his reaction. A moment passes. "Wow, that's so cute" He's mumbles, drinking in the photo as she pulls it away, "I know right, they both have such cute faces."

"Oh yea, your cats are cute too."

She laughs at that, trying to not let his obvious flirting ruin her composure right now. As Y/n stares at the photo, the time in the corner of the device catches her attention. "I should go, it's getting late." She says softly, stacking the papers they went over, neatly. She stands and pushes the chair in, until a hand comes up to hers, stopping her from getting too far.

"When are you free again?"

"What, you wanna talk about my cats some more?" She laughs, soon looking up at him again as he stands. The hand on hers doesn't move, only squeezes for a second. A laugh leaves him as he looks away for a moment, a smile present on his face

"No tutoring this time, I was wondering if you just wanted to hang out? No plants."

Her eyebrows raise, "Oh, seriously?"

"If you don't want to thats okay-"

"No!..no, I, that would be nice." She stutters out, swallowing. The hand on hers maneuvers so they're hands are interlocked. She would've peaked down if not for the way he was looking at her. It's like a switch for him honestly, the intensity in his eyes flood back and she has to remind herself to stand correctly.

Anakin sucks in his bottom lip as he stares at her face, soon settling on her lips. He takes the first step, backing her into his table. Their fingers split apart as he leans his hands on the edges of the furniture, blocking her in. "I honestly can't get enough of you, each time I see you it's not enough." He whispers against her parted lips, his right hand coming up to cradle her waist.

"Anakin." She breathes heavily.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, lips brushing against hers.

Y/n gulps, nodding as she gazes at his eyes then lips.

He doesn't wait a second before connecting with her skin, gently, lightly. The kiss progresses, the last hand on the table drifts to the base of her neck, loosely gripping the skin. Y/n seriously can't get over how big he is, he's so broad and tall. She feels like he could swallow her up with ease and it has her knees weakening.

They eventually drift apart, lingering near each other until he backs up and lets her out of his cage.

"Here." He mumbles, grabbing her hand and leading her to where her shoes sat. She slips them on without tying them.

"Text me when you get home?" Anakin asks, leaning his hand against his door frame as she stands on his porch. A soft chuckle escapes her, "Sure." Before she goes, he leans in, placing a hand on her cheek and leaving a sizzling goodbye kiss on her lips.

"Bye."

After letting him know she got home safe, she pretty much passed out, she's never been through so much in such a short period of time.

She wakes up to a few texts, and each and everyone of them drive her teeth deeper into her, poor, bottom lip.

'Good morning'

"I had a lot of fun last night'

'What are your classes today?'

Y/n composes herself as best she can before replying.

'Good morning! I had a lot of fun too, more than I've had in awhile'

"And I have two classes, psych and geometry’

The bubbles appear and she turns off her phone, closing her eyes and squealing.

'Do you wanna meet up sometime this week? if you're busy thats okay i totally get it'

She giggles at his rambling.

'I'd love to see you, is Friday okay?'

'Friday's great, wanna grab lunch? I'll pick you up'

"Sounds fun, see you then<3'

Was the heart too much? She doesn't know, it felt right in the moment. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if this was another one of her dreams, they're a little too convincing for her liking.

To say the week went slowly is an understatement. But, she has made good progress on her drawing, the vivid blues she used brought out his eyes incredibly. She traced the dried shadows casted onto the skin of his eyelids with her finger, she knew she was fucked.

Friday rolled around, it weighed on her psyche like a brick. Soon, though, the crippling anticipation would be over.

She scanned herself over in the mirror, "You got this, it's just the dude you're infatuated with who likes you back." Saying it out loud did not help, infact, the need to throw up starting growing. Y/n chugged some water before getting the text.

'I'm outside'

She inhaled and said her goodbyes to her cats, shakily closing the apartment door behind her. From the lobby she could spot a black car parked right in front of the stairs, she hoped it was his. It would be really awkward if she opened it and it wasn’t Anakin. Thankfully, though, it was. "Hey" He greeted, leaning his elbow on the center console, eyeing her closely.

"Where we goin?" Y/n asked, buckling in her seatbelt after she shut the door. He made a thoughtful face before saying the name of a cafe place he wanted to try. Her interested was piqued. The drive there made her giggle, the music he was playing made it very..obvious he was a college student. "What?" He asked, turning to her for a second before watching the road again, a matching smile on his face.

"You listen to fuck boy music." She pressed her hand lightly over her mouth as she laughed harder.

A look of faux offense struck his face as he let out an incredulous scoff. "Fuck boy music?" His astounded voice made the situation all the more funny, her stomach even started hurting from laughing so much. "Wow.." He murmured, chuckling some more. He bit his lip and shook his head. After that it was much easier to talk to him, he was easy to converse with surprisingly.

"What drink did you get?” He asks, taking a bite from his bagel. “An iced matcha latte with a shot of vanilla and vanilla sweet cold foam.”

He blinks at her, “Bless you.”

She laughs before taking another sip of her drink, a lock of her hair loosens from behind her ear and hangs in front of her eye. Anakin doesn’t waste a second before his hand is coming up to loop it back in place.

Y/n raises her eyebrows at his eagerness, "What? Couldn't have anything blocking that face of yours." The drink coming up her straw slowly goes back down as she freezes. A blush she hopes isn't as bad as she thinks it is, takes over her face and ears. She's really not used to a guy being this way with her. Anakin watches her, amused, he loves the way she reacts to his advances.

"What time is it? My shift starts at 4." She remembers, playing with her straw.

"2:04."

"I got time, what do you wanna do?" She wonders as he stands up and grabs the paper his bagel came with, throwing it away as they walk out. "Good question, do you wanna go back to your place?" It's an innocent enough question but she raises her eyebrows anyway, teasing him.

"Oh don't give me that look." He smiles, putting an arm around her shoulders. Leaning into her ear he says lowly, "Don't tell me you're already thinking dirty thoughts. You're so cute." His words paired with his tone, the proximity, his arm, and the intoxicating way his lips and breath brush against her ears are too much for her. "Ladies first." He says, back to his smiley self as he opens the passenger door for her.

The way back could be both worse and better at the same time. He rests a hand on her clothed thigh, he doesn't move it, but it's there, and she's acutely aware of it. It singes her skin even through her jeans. Y/n swears he's out for blood right now, she can feel her heart and it's not looking good.

As she unlocks her apartment door, she wouldn't be surprised if she just dropped dead right there.

Her cats, like always, meet her at the door, tails flicking, and cute meows spewing at random moments. Anakin's in awe as he crouches down, letting the animals smell his hands. "They're so cute."

She giggles at his expression, hanging up her purse.

Her cats warm up to him pretty fast, Bear flips over, his furry stomach on display for them both. Anakin gets his cat fix before moving on to her living room. "Very cozy, Ms. Tortured Artist." He jokes, taking a seat on the couch. Y/n laughs, finding the remote, "Oh, please. I swear everyone thinks I'm such an open book."

"That's probably because you are." He smiles, leaning back and manspreading.

"Okay then, guess something about me." She challenges, forgetting the remote to turn and face his smug expression. "Hmm." He looks up at her ceiling in thought before making an 'o' shape with his mouth, "I bet your room is either beige or pink, no in between." Her mouth opens a bit, he actually got it right. Her bedsheets are pink, maybe she is an open book.

"Well, fuck. You got me, it's pink." She laughs, shrugging.

"Of course it is, can I see it? I don't see too many adults with pink rooms." He plays it off, acting like he's completely innocent in this. Y/n nods, standing up to venture down the hallway. She creeks the door open, her lips pursed as she showed him the pink room he completely guessed right on.

"Wow, cute room. I bet you bring all the guys here, hm?" He teases, sitting on the edge of her bed, he pats the space next to him. "You're an ass." Y/n mumbles, sitting next to him. He leans over a bit, "I might be, do you have a problem with that?' He leans in more, scooting over even. He's close again like he was at his house that day.

She shakes her head, her spine tingling at the sensation of his hand wandering to her thigh. It caresses it, almost luring her she feels like. "Good." Is the last thing she hears before he kisses her again. They both lose themselves in the intimate act, need coming from both sides. It gets heavy quickly, a hand is placed around her back, pulling them closer together, the hand on her thigh has migrated to her ass.

Crash!

Anakin was honestly just going to power through it, the feel of her so eager to touch him sent him spiraling. But, of course, she pulls away.

"Give me one moment, okay?" Y/n pants against his lips, an apologetic smile already on her face. He nods, smacking her ass when she gets up. He closes his eyes and breathes, later opening them to glance around her room. It makes him feel something as he takes in the cutesy stuff around him, and that something shoots down to his jeans as they tighten ever so slightly. Stuffed animals littered her pink bed, her desk next to it had cute little stationary sets, random figurines, and a little notebook. He's not sure why it catches his attention but it does, the latch to keep it closed piqued his interest. So, without thinking, he leans for it, swiping it from the table.

The leather rubs against his warm fingertips as he unlatches it, flipping to the first page. "Predictable." He smiles, little sketches of flowers are sprinkled through out it, and the page after it. Just as he gets to the third page she walks in, immediately eyeing her demise in his hands. She snatches it from his hands the second he lays his eyes on, well, his eyes.

"You're so nosy." She laughs it off like she didn't feel her heart lurch in her chest.

"Sorry." He pauses, leaning back to look at her. A new mood swirling through his eyes, new to her at least.

"You really like drawing those eyes, huh?" He smiles, watching as she sits back next to him. "You could say that." She responds, hoping he drops it. He, thankfully, lets go of what he saw, eyeing her on her cute pink bed, the blush on her cheeks, and the timid look on her face. It’s so alluring. “Don't you think you're a little far away?" Anakin asks, ready to tackle her.

"I'm right next to you, our knees are touching."

"Yea, well, I could think of some other things I'd like to be touching other than our knees." He mumbles, loud enough for her to hear. He gazes at her face with an unbreaking stare. Scooting closer, he leans in to graze her ear with his lips.

"Seeing you all shy and blushy on your pretty pink bed really turns me on, if I'm being honest." His voice an octave lower. A moment later he stands up, a teasing smile on his face. "It's 3:10, you should get ready for work." Y/n looks at him with huge eyes, her fists still clenching the sheets under her. She nods, eyes going everywhere before landing on her lap—her mind trying to rationalize what just happened.

"Oh, right." Need has settled in her stomach, it swirls inside her as she walks past him to her closet. Her work uniform was neatly hung up like usual.

"Wow, do I get a show?" Anakin asks, amused as he takes a seat back on her bed. Y/n playfully scoffs, laying her clothes on her bed before taking his hand and guiding him through her house. "Are you kicking me out, Cutie? I thought we had something special." He jokes, putting on his shoes. "You're so annoying." She laughs, opening the door when he's done. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Gotta make sure you don't miss me too much."

"Okay, okay, get out." She laughs again, Anakin puts his arms up in faux defense as he laughs along. "I'll see you later, Cutie." He takes ahold of her chin, guiding their lips together. The kiss is definitely more than a peck, it leaves her wanting more as he pulls away. He offers her a wink before leaving down her building's hallway.

After closing the door, she slides down it. Face pressed into her knees. Images of what happened only minutes prior race through her mind, momentarily stunning her. She's never been so attracted to someone in her life. But, in love or not, she must get to work. As she's undressing to change into her uniform, she can't help but to let her mind wander. What if she did 'give him a show'?, she knows the feeling of his hands against her bare skin would be intoxicating. His already sinful mouth would be hair-raising.

Goosebumps graze over her arms and stomach as she slips on her shirt and tugs on her pants. The entire way there and her entire shift was endured with a heavy heart. She was wrapped so tightly around his finger already. The vulnerability of it all was scary though, she fell so hard and so fast. Yet, she didn't worry too much about it.

That night she lay awake. Skimming her fingers over her lips, replaying the kisses he's shared with her. A warm feeling fills her chest and abdomen as she closes her eyes. Pressing her face into the pillow as she smiles.

—

“Hey, listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to my game next weekend.” Anakin says, he called her only a moment ago and, obviously, she picked up pretty fast.

“You play sports?” It really wasn’t that surprising, whenever he wore short sleeves his biceps would strain against the material, she could only imagine what the rest of him looked like.

“Yea, I play football. I’d love if you came, seeing you there would be great.”

“Sounds fun, I haven’t gone to a football game since I was in high school.” She murmurs into the phone, sitting cross-cross on her floor alongside her painting.

“Well, then you probably don’t know that you’ll need to wear a cheer costume, preferably a size smaller or two.” He teases, jokingly trying to convince her. A laugh comes from her and he can picture her smile.

“Is that so? I’m not sure either of us would enjoy my ass hanging out infront of the entire school.” She chuckles, spinning her brush in the jar of water next to her, soon drying it off on a rag.

“You’re right, you should cheer me on in a more..secluded place, like my bedroom.”

“You’re too much, Anakin.” She pauses for a moment, voice becoming softer as she continues. “I’ll be there, text me what time and stuff, okay?” The man on the other end smiles, “Of course, also. I don’t have a picture of you for your contact, could you send me that one you took of you and your cats you showed me the other day?”

Her eyebrows raise, he was oddly specific. “Sure, why that one specifically?” She wonders aloud, dipping her brush into some of the paint lightly.

“I love that picture of you, I told you I thought you were cute in it.” His deep chuckle has her hand momentarily stalling.

“I thought you were just being horny, if I’m being honest.” She confesses, breathy laugh escaping her.

“Me? Horny? Absolutely not.” Anakin teases, sitting up in his bed. “I will say though, could you blame me? You do something to me, Y/n. It’s difficult not touching you at all times.” He confesses, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

“What, do you like me or something?” She could only think of a limited amount of responses. The topic of sex and all things related stunned her a bit, she wasn’t a virgin but that didn’t mean she was used to his advances or forwardness. She heard his low laugh from the line and laid her brush on the rag for the time being.

“You have no idea, it’s honestly a miracle we’ve made it this far. We haven’t even had sex yet and you’re still keeping up with me. It means a lot.” The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.

“Does that not usually happen?” She wonders if it’s too much to ask, but she’s curious. He sighs before answering.

“I don’t have the best..track record with relationships. I feel like sometimes all people boil me down to is sex, so, it’s refreshing that we haven’t done anything yet and you still wanna hang out with me.” His answer honestly made her wanna cry, she couldn’t imagine being used in such a way—multiple times.

"I'm so sorry. If it means anything, that's probably the last thing I'd ever do. I know I don't show my feelings much...but I really like you. It kinda scares me honestly." She held her breath at the confession, scared of what he'll reply with.

"Yea? You like me? What do you like about me exactly?" And there he was, back to his old teasing self. Y/n laughs loudly at his sudden change in tone.

"Do you actually want a list?" She smiles, absentmindedly grabbing her brush and twirling it in the dark-colored water.

"Oh absolutely, lay it on me, Cutie."

"Hmm, well, I really like how forward you are. You saying you'd like to see me and stuff, the guys I've dated in the past tried to be all cool and anti-feelings. It's nice knowing what you're thinking."

"How could I ever hide how I feel about you?" He sighed, running a hand through his sandy curls.

"Plus, it really helps that you're sexy." She had to say it, it had to be known. It was the truth, she couldn't be blamed. Anakin snorts at that.

"You're so cute, I just wanna pinch your cheeks." He teases, goofy smile on his face.

The call, unfortunately, ends a little after that. She has one day to finish the painting, it only needed some final touches so she was happy tomorrow was Sunday.

Said day went nicely. She finished the painting completely and couldn't be happier with it. She honestly doesn't know how she did it but she truly encompassed Anakin onto the canvas. Looking at it brought a warm feeling to her body, it swam from her heart, to her stomach, and to her limbs.

"Alright, there are two piles. One is the normal turn in pile, and the other is the turn in pile for the University’s art show next Friday night. Now, I will warn you, not everyone who enters will be in the show. We are looking for the best the class has to offer, if you don't get picked that's okay. There will always be more."

Y/n thinks heavily about her decision, she can't possibly pass up an opportunity like this. So, she breathes and adds it to the art show pile. She tries her best to not dwell on it too much, she knows if she overthinks she'll end up panicking and changing her decision. The teacher tells them their homework for the week, but it's nothing to fret over. Because this project was so big he only asked for some simple sketches and drawings.

By the time she makes it out of class her phone pings, an email. Apparently, her teacher for her last class of the day is sick so class is cancelled. She shrugs mentally and decides to head to the library. Her shift doesn't start for a hot minute and she could get some homework done.

She adores the library, especially this one table. It's more towards the back, it's cut off by thick shelves, little to no distraction. It's perfect for homework.

As she walks, she feels her shoulders lift. The painting hanging over her head was done. The obsession with Anakin's eyes painted into reality, it was done. A small smiles lifts her lips as she opens the door to the building the library is located in. The shelves blur together as she walks passed them, they tower over her as usual. The place is fairly empty, aside from one or two students.

She gets closer to the table and crosses her fingers, hoping it's empty. Y/n sighs in relief as she sees it vacant. Sitting in her usual seat, she sets down her backpack and drags out her computer.

Unexpectedly, her phone pings again. This time it isn't an email.

'what class are you in rn?'

Y/n smiles, giddly typing a reply.

'class was cancelled, im doing some homework in the library. it's so quiet in here it’s great’

She leaves it at that, not expecting anything to come from it. So, she plugs in her headphones and shuffles her playlist. Beginning to type her homework. Her head bops to the beat until a pair of hands squeeze her shoulders. It makes her jump, she's honestly not sure if she made a sound or not, her music was a little too loud. She tugs out the earplugs, knowing the culprit already.

"Anakin, you scared me." She breathes, smile on her face as she places a hand on her chest.

"That was kinda the point." He teases, sitting in the seat beside her. "Whatchya working on?"

"My English essay, do you not have a class right now?"

"Technically, it's not a mandatory day. Plus, I'd rather be here with you." He flirts, grabbing her hand that rests on the table. "I missed you."

She can't take her eyes off of him as he tells her that. "I missed you too." Soon, he's nodding at her headphones. "What're you listening to?"

"Oh, Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, it's one of my favorite songs." She passes him one of the earbuds and restarts it.

As she continues typing her essay, they're both quiet, listening to the love song. Anakin's eyes trail up her arm, to her concentrated face, his eyes soften as he takes her in. The song adding a loving theme song to what he was feeling. She was so close to him, a mere few inches. His hand reaches out to graze her arm, skin free due to the short sleeved shirt she was wearing. It brought comfort to him that he could reach out and know she was there.

Y/n's eyes flick to him at the touch, meeting his gaze quickly.

It's silent between them, the look he's giving her would've probably had her in the hospital a week ago. She's able to keep looking at him now, even through his intense stare. Electricity crackles in the air around them, nothing else matters. Nothing else could matter.

His hand doesn't leave her upper arm as he leans in, romantically connecting their lips. The chorus starts up once again, it's fuel for the desire being poured from them. They push together harder, wanting to be one. The only reason they split is for air. But, the need for closeness is still alive and well. So, he scoots closer, wrapping her in a hug. He mumbles something in her hair, but she doesn’t hear it. The sound of their breathing and heartbeats is the only thing heard after that until Y/n speaks up.

"Do you wanna go to an art show next Friday night with me?" Her voice is quiet, almost like he'd run away if she was too loud.

Pulling away enough to look into her eyes, he answers. "Of course, I'd go anywhere with you."

That week they met up a few times, sometimes at school, and sometimes at random restaurants for a date. Anakin was sure he was losing his mind, he's never felt such a way for someone. He was falling for her, very hard and very fast.

After their meet up at the library, Y/n had an idea. Thinking back to when they were on the phone, what if she did wear a cheer costume. Obviously not to the game, but they could celebrate afterward. She wanted to be closer to him, needed the feeling of him. She knew Anakin wanted that too, so she was ready to make it memorable. She orders the skimpy costume off of Amazon and checks that it'll be there before Friday night.

So, when Friday morning rolls around and it ends up in her mailbox she's more than ready for what's to come.

"You're picking me up right?" She asks over the phone, the device is on speaker as she gets undressed, ready to put on the costume under her normal clothing.

"Yea..why do you sound so far away?"

"Oh, sorry. You're on speaker, I'm changing right now." It's not her intention but she'll know Anakin'll get a kick out of that.

"Are you now?"

Then, an incredibly erotic idea falls into her head. As she speaks to Anakin she snaps a picture of herself, she's not wearing anything but the photo stops right above her breasts. They were still very noticeable so she could tease him perfectly. A pout is settled on her face as her hair frames the seductive expression. She sends it and keeps talking like nothing nefarious is happening behind the scenes.

When he stops talking she does too, a smirk making its way onto her face. "Something wrong, Ani?" She's never used the nickname before, but it feels like the right moment to start.

"Fuck, Y/n. You're gonna kill me. I want you so fucking bad, oh my god." His voice is deep and strained.

She ignores the way her body reacts to that as she replies, "Whe are you gonna be here? I miss you."

"Mm, I miss you too, I'll be there in an hour. Be ready for me, yea?” The double meaning of his words tingles up her spine.

She checks herself over in the mirror, the small two piece barely covered anything. Her cleavage couldn't be on more of a display, especially since she paired it with her favorite push-up bra. The small, red, pleated skirt didn't even cover half of her ass, and she paired that with a matching lace thong.

The text that he was waiting for her outside came sooner than she expected so she threw on some baggy clothes and grabbed her things. Making her way to him.

Shocking to nobody, once she sat in his passenger seat he was on her. Hand on her neck as he pressed a searing kiss on her welcoming lips. It would've gone on longer if she didn't remind him of where they were going.

"You're so lucky my game saved you, I don't think I could've held myself back after that photo you sent." He threatened, pulling out of the parking lot. "Don't threaten me with a good time." She replies, taking his free arm into both of hers. She practically hugged him the entire way there.

"You wait in the stands for me, okay? I'll be looking for you." Anakin said, closing the gap between them again.

"Good luck."

As she sat on the lowest bench of the stand, a chill ran up her spine at the thought of what was going to happen once the game was over. The feeling tripled as she spotted him. The look on his face causing a blush to grow on her cheeks.

The game started soon after that, she never really paid attention to sports, so she didn't really know what was going on. She knew enough to get her by, though. She watched him closely, watched as he bulldozed the opposing players. He was one of the tallest on the team so he stood out well. It was unbelievably hot, she couldn't deny the way her thighs clenched together. She was more than ready for the game to be over.

During one of the breaks, he jogs up to the fence next to the stairs of the stands. Calling her over with a nod and a smile. His helmet hung on one of his fingers as he waited for her. "You're doing great." She tells him, smiling proudly.

"It's all because of you, my love." He lightly pants, leaning over the fence to kiss her. Though he tastes like sweat, she didn't mind. The opposite actually, it turned her on even more. And when they split he could see the gleam in her eyes. "As soon as I win this thing we can get outta here, how does that sound?" He moved his damp curls from his face as he spoke, it added to his undeniable sex appeal.

"Sounds good, I'll wait at the car for you afterward." Her hand reaches out to rub at his sticky biceps.

He nods before giving her one last kiss and running back to the field. She gulps, hands sweaty as she sits back down. No doubt having some eyes on her after all that.

She watches him again, this time he's carrying the ball to the other side of the field. The final touchdown of the night. He wins for their team and everyone there loses their mind. Anakin's team surges towards him in awe, she could hardly hear her own thoughts as everyone around her screams and yells. She's immensely proud of him , the need to congratulate him was strong at that point. She realizes though, with everyone jumping around her, she can't see the field. So, she stands on the bench and searches for him. A large smile on her face as she spots him. Watching him so happy made her heart flutter.

As she watches the teams leave the field she clambers down from the bench and makes a B-line for his car. She isn't waiting for long as he tries his best to get through the crowd. The second they meet he's engulfing her smaller frame, her arms wrap around his neck as they kiss probably for the 20th time that day. He's sweaty under the clothes he changed back into, it only makes her wanna take them off.

Anakin presses her back into his car's door, momentarily forgetting where they are. Y/n taps his shoulder as the sound of people talking get closer.

"You did amazing, I'm so proud of you." She praises, pressing another kiss on him.

"All thanks to you, my good luck charm. Do you wanna head outta here?" He smiles, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. She nods before slipping out from under him and getting in the passenger side, telling him to drive to her place. The ride there was pure tension, she played with his calloused hands and praised him more as they neared closer and closer to her building. Neither of them addressed the very obvious pent-up sexual tension suffocating them. Opting for letting it grow--thrive. It would pay off in a matter of time.

Her shutting the apartment door behind her signaled for Anakin to throw his self-control out of the window. He walked her backward with tight hands on her waist as they made out through her apartment, trying to get to her bedroom. Once there, he plants a firm hand on her chest and pushes her down to her bed. The sight of her looking up at him, waiting for him to please her caused more blood to navigate south within him.

“Ever since I saw your cute little room I wanted to do this. Wanted to take you in the most disgusting way possible, see you sob against your pink sheets, all because of me.” He confessed, lowering himself to hover over her.

She couldn’t deny the way that made her feel, all of her ex’s made her feel like a dumb child when they saw her room. So she felt her panties dampen and her thighs rub together at his words. Anakin smirks when he notices the movement. “You like that, Cutie? You like when I talk to you like that?” He leans in to kiss her, cutting off her answer. His skillful tongue licks into her mouth, practically going down her throat the harder he becomes. The kiss is ended with a harsh suck to her tongue.

The man above her continues his assault across her jawline and below her ear, where he begins to get messy with his kisses. He sucks and nibbles all the way down to her collarbones, where he deems she’s wearing too much clothing.

“Take off your shirt for me, Cutie.”

This is it, she gulps as she takes hold of the hem of her shirt and drags it off—showing off the top half of her skimpy cheer costume. He loudly sucks in a breath before pushing her chest back down to the bed and forcefully taking off her pants himself. He throbs in his jeans at seeing the entirety of what she’s wearing.

“What’s all this, baby?” He bites his lip, his hands roaming her exposed skin. A seductive grin takes ahold of his lips as he drinks her in.

“You said you needed a cheerleader, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.” He mumbles, gripping her knees to spread her legs accordingly. Anakin eyes the thong she’s wearing and makes a mental note to stuff them in his pant’s pocket when he gets them off of her. He slots himself in between her welcoming thighs, erection pressing hotly against her clothed cunt. The kisses that were stopped along her collarbones moments ago start up again, now more urgent.

“God, you’re so sexy. All mine too. My little cheerleader.” He breaths against her, making his way down to her cleavage. Nips and sucks are felt at the exposed skin of her breasts, her hips press upwards at that, wanting to feel him. The material of her shirt is pushed up over her bra, then hands snake up her spine to unclasp that too. She shimmies down the straps so he can throw the item behind him.

“I knew you’d have perfect tits.”

He doesn’t waste a second to lick around one of her nipples, taking it in his mouth after a second. A hand gropes the breast that isn’t in his mouth and the other is splayed over the side of her thigh, moving up to grab as much of her ass as it can.

“Anakin.” She moans, arching her back slightly. Her thighs clamp down around his waist, it feeds into the desire that’s beginning to take over his mind. He ruts his hips into her, both of them moaning at the contact. The smell of her arousal floats between both of them, it has him groaning before harshly thrusting against her. “Smell so good, gotta have a taste.” He pulls away, lowering to his knees before she stops him.

“Wait, Anakin. I can’t wait any longer, please—please, fuck me.”

His forehead meets her knee, his teeth pierce his lower lip as he shutters out a breath. “My little cheerleader is such a slut for me already, hm?”

The shirt that clung to his body is taken off, in the sexiest way possible, as well as his pants. Soon, he’s left in his boxers, his very obvious erection strains against the fabric. “Come here.” He grabs her waist as he slides onto the sheets, maneuvering her just the way he wants until she’s propped up on him. His back lays against her pillows as he slips her panties to the side, her leaking cunt pressed deliciously against his clothed cock.

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, is that all for me, Cutie?”

She tries to pay attention to him speak, but the sight of him, abs all sweaty below her, causes her brain to short circuit. “Don’t tell me you’re already all dumb for me.” He hotly stares at her, hand reaching out to grab her chin, making sure she’s looking him in the eye. “I asked you a question.”

She stares with wider hazy eyes, “It’s all for you, Ani. Need you so bad.” She whines, panting already.

He smirks at her state, loving the way she reacts to him. “Show me then, Cutie. Rub your wet little pussy on my cock and I might just fuck you with it.” His eyes are back to the intense ones she knows so well. But this time, he can visibly see how bad they affect her. Taking in a deep breath, she places her shaky hands on his abs before moving her hips. A gasp is heard pretty quickly due to how hard he is, she wonders if it hurts at all.

Weirdly, he finds it that much hotter how her skirt covers where they meet.

“There you go, keep going.” He praises, watching her with lidded eyes. Her head hangs low as she grinds a little harder.

“Fuck.” He rasps, moving his hands to her hips.

Her clit catches his head and ridges a few times and it’s enough to pull a pornographic moan from her. They’re full-on dry humping now, she can even see a wet patch start to grow on his briefs when she pulls up her skirt, it makes him salivate. “I can’t wait any longer.” He groans out, stopping her movements. A hand on her waist keeps her in place as he pushes down his briefs a few inches to grip a hand around himself. Pearls of pre cum ooze down his head and it has her gulping.

“Ready, Cutie?”

Y/n nods, tossing her head back as Anakin runs his cock through her folds before pressing into her. She’s so wet that in one push he’s filled her to the brim. “Anakin.” She weakly moans out, leaning her body forward to push him impossibly deeper inside her.

“Shit, you’re so tight and wet for me. Just like I knew you’d be.”

“You’ve thought of this before?” She asks, knowing the answer. She just wants to hear his dirty words some more. “Of course, I have. Jerked off to the idea of this cute little pussy so many times. You’re better than I imagined.” Her lips quiver at that, it propels her into raising her hips and slamming them down as fast as she’s able to at that moment. The stretch of him is making her delirious, an insatiable hunger taking over her.

“Just like that, Cutie. Doing so good for me.” The praise has her clenching around him. She tries her best to keep a good pace but it’s proving to be difficult, her thighs burn as her body forces her to slow down. The man under her takes notice and grips her waist, sitting up and laying her down beneath him.

He throbs inside of her impatiently, so he grabs her thighs and pushes them closer to her chest, both of them moan at the new angle. The way he’s now kissing her cervix has her turn to pure putty in his hands. “There you go, you’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you? Have I fucked you stupid?” He calls out, eyeing the way she reacts. A smirk finds it’s way on his face as she tries to answer but fails. The grip he has on her thighs tightens as he feels her clench, the fluttering doesn’t stop so he guesses she's close.

Her hand tip toes down to her clit to messily rub, she doesn’t care how or how fast, she just needs the stimulation.

“M’ gonna come.” She moans, tears welling in her eyes at his harsh pace and the words falling from his lips.

“Do it, Slut, come.” He growls, grinding his hips into hers. Anakin watches her face closely as she finishes around him, then he backs up to peak down at the way his cock fills her up to the brim.

“There you go.”

Y/n lazily smiles as he slows down to a stop.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, yet.” He tells her, pulling out to flip her over onto her stomach. His strong hands pull her ass up, pushing her legs apart with his knee. “You look so good like this, pussy ready for me.” His voice is low and gravelly, it has her dripping.

—

The next morning she awoke to the unusual smell of bacon. A hand splays out on the spot next to her, it’s cold. Cracking open an eye, she notices the bed is empty. “Anakin?” Her groggy voice asks to the open air. There’s no response so she pushes herself to her feet, noticing she’s in her panties and what looks like Anakin’s shirt.

Traversing through her apartment, she spots the kitchen and rubs her eyes. Anakin’s tussled hair and toned back was the first thing she saw, “Anakin?”

His ears perk up. Turning around, he smiles, “Good morning, about time you woke up. I was just about to come get you.” He walks over to her, settling his hands on her hips and placing a loving kiss to her cheek. “I made breakfast, go sit down.” He nods to the table. “I didn’t know you were so motherly.” She smiles, sitting down at a chair.

“Just for you.” He murmurs, getting out cups.

Eating breakfast beside him was odd, not in a bad way though. Waking up to him was truly the best feeling. “What time do you work today?” He asks, shoveling the last of his food in his mouth.

“Uhh 4, and tomorrow the shop isn’t open.”

“Oh, so I get you the whole day? I’m honored.” He says as they both get up to put dishes in the sink. Hands on the counter, she turns around to face him. He gladly leans in and traps her between him and the surface, the kiss they shared was sweet, it made her heart swell.

“I should go back to my place to get cleaned up. I’ll miss you.” He punctuates that with a kiss, or two, or three. She giggles in return, teasingly pushing him away as he goes back for more. “When I come back you better be in the same outfit, you look amazing in my clothes.” He leans into her ear to say, playfully nipping at her neck. “Anakin…” She laughs.

—

A few days have passed, Y/n sits at her desk doing her homework as she gets a call. She recognizes that it’s associated with her university. She answers it and her jaw drops. Her painting was accepted into the art show. She springs up from her bed and squeals when the call is over. The first thing she thinks of is telling Anakin, but, maybe it would be better if it was a surprise.

“Anakin it’s a school night.”

“We’re adults, Y/n. We’re not in middle school anymore, plus it’ll be fun.” He tries persuading her. Currently his friends and him are going to see a movie, it’s about 9:00 so Y/n is a little worried. She hums from over the phone in thought, “Fine, is your car even big enough for all of us?” She asks, playing with the strings of her sweat pants.

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll meet them there, don’t worry.” Y/n hums again.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

As he pulls up to her building, he can’t help but be nervous as well. His friends can be a little…intense, and he knows Y/n is the opposite of that. But he really wants his girlfriend and his friends to meet.

“Hey, Beautiful. I missed you.” He smiles, leaning in to leave a peck on her lips.

“I missed you too, what movie are we watching?”

“The new insidious, it looks really good.”

“A scary movie? You should’ve warned me, I’m gonna embarrass myself even more in front of your friends.” Her doe eyes stare in worry at him, causing his heart to squeeze. “Y/n no, I promise it’ll be okay. If it gets too scary I can..distract you. I’m pretty good at that.” He smiles, driving off. Of course, he would say that.

Y/n wipes her clammy hands on her jeans, remembering how the boys were in the flower shop.

Her boyfriend eyes her from his seat, eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, if this is too much for you we can go back. It's up to you." He grabs at her hands, looking her sincerely in the eyes after he parks. "No no, I'll be fine." He smiles at her, giving her a loving kiss before opening his door. The wind whips her hair in her face as she stands, soon hearing the loud chattering of, who she assumes, are his friends. There's about 4 of them, they're already laughing and pushing each other when they reach the two. They do their guy greeting before turning to her. One of them speaks up first, "You must be Y/n, we've heard a lot about you."

"Oh, good things I hope." She nervously smiles, migrating to holding onto Anakin's hand, she grips it like it's her lifeline. The group quickly starts chatting together, Y/n, obviously, the odd one out. The only thing keeping her from running away was Anakin. As they got their tickets and stood in line for snacks, he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. "What do you want?" He asks, referring to what snacks she wants.

A thoughtful expression is seen on her face as she looks over the food. "Can I get the gummy worms? Oh and a blue slushee." She says, pointing to it on the menu. The cashier types in the order, asking if that's all. He nods, paying for you both, his friends order right after. "I'll pay you back, how much was it?" She starts digging through her purse for her wallet. "Y/n, you don't have to pay me back." He shakes his head, smiling affectionately at her.

"Dude, I didn't know you were so sappy." One of his friends laughs, of course, they all start laughing at him. Except one, she doesn't know his name but she knows she doesn't like him. The way his eyes undress her makes her feel dirty and exposed. The 3 pounds of drinks, popcorn, and candy they get is dispersed amongst them. Since they are college boys, they pick the seats way at the back of the theater. She doesn't mind too much though, having Anakin with her soothes her nerves.

As she sits down, Anakin sits to her left, and to her dismay, the one friend sits to her right. The tension the guy brings has her scooting closer to her boyfriend.

Sitting through the ads was tough, she couldn't constantly keep talking to Anakin since he was talking to his friends, so she had to sit there, eating the popcorn that sat in Anakin's lap.

The lights dimmed as she reached for him, clasping one of his hands in between both of hers.

During the movie she had the weirdest feeling of being watched, it chilled her more than the cold theater air. Or, maybe not. She didn't realize how cold it was until right now.

"Anakin, I'm gonna get my jacket from your car, can you give me your keys?" She whispers.

He nods, digging in his pocket and giving her them. Carefully, she gets up, avoiding knocking into everyone's legs as she sidesteps through the aisle.

Moments later when she turns around from locking the car again, jacket in hand. She spots Anakin, his friends, and a security guard outside by the doors. Eyebrows furrowing, she gets closer, the security guard then goes inside, leaving the rest of the men. "What happened? Are you okay?" She noticed one of the guys with a busted lip and bloody nose.

"Let's go, Y/n." Her boyfriend says sternly, dragging her back to the car by the hand. "Anakin? You're scaring me."

Once they sat in the car, her body turned towards him, "Anakin." She says again, waiting for an explanation. The man sighs, rubbing his hands over his face before muttering. "I punched Cody." She's not sure who that is, but she guesses it's the one with the bleeding nose and lip. "What? Why? I thought you were friends."

He sighs again, looking over at you. "He was saying some stuff about you, that I won't repeat. I couldn't control myself after that, then we got kicked out." Y/n was stunned, what could've he possibly said about her that made Anakin so blood thirsty? "Oh." She was obviously a little hurt, not by him, but by the friend. She thought she was doing a good job at talking to them.

"Don't let him get you down, though. You mean so much to me, Y/n, More than I can put into words, let's go home." He runs a hand through his hair before reversing out of his parking space, a stern look still on his face.

That night when they got to her house, he changed into the clothes he brought over and clung to her. They were both on their sides facing each other in bed, her head pressed into his chest, and a firm arm was around her waist.

"Y/n."

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

She does as he requested and tipped her head up, locking eyes with him even through the darkness. His hand on her waist drifts up to comb through the hair beside her ear, before resting on her neck to pull her lips to his properly.

"I love you." He breaths against her mouth, kissing her once more.

"You do?" She asks, reaching up to press her hand onto his. Nobody except her parents has told her that before, especially with the pure adoration that Anakin held. "Of course, I do. The first time I ever saw you, you ran me over with your painting. I was hooked from the beginning." He smiles, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Her eyes widen, "That was you?"

"Yes, and I couldn't be more happy about it." He spoke so close to her lips, they brushed against each other after each word. "I love you too." She responds, initiating the last kiss before they sleep. After that, they broke apart so Anakin could lean his head on top of hers, listening to her breathing slow as she falls asleep.

Getting through her classes was tough, there was only one more day until the art show. Y/n tried her best not to think too much about it, though.

"Here, Cherry. Here, Bear." She calls, putting food into their dishes. As she sits and pets them while they eat, her mind drifts to what Anakin's reaction might be to seeing his own eyes on display. She can only hope it doesn't weird him out, he's her first boyfriend since her Junior year of high school. He even told her he loves her. But, she knew if he did have an adverse reaction to it, she would understand. Her head lay on her knee as she processes all of her emotions at once.

That day at the shop the bell rang, signaling a customer.

"Welcome in..." She trails off. "Anakin, what are you doing here?" Y/n gasps, eyes sparkling. The man smiles while shrugging. "Just looking around, I suppose." She hums, "Let me know if you need any help, okay?" He nods at her words, stepping around an aisle. It doesn't take him too long to pick out what he's looking for.

He places down a singular rose, readying his wallet. "Alright, that'll be $1.25." He hums in return, plucking out 2 one dollar bills. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'll miss you." Anakin tells her as she gives him his change. "I'll miss you more, Ani." They cement their words with a kiss and then he leaves, waving at her as he does so.

—

Her hands visibly shake when she steps up to his car, it’s already dark outside so she hopes he can’t see. Y/n decided to wear a nice looking dress, she thought it would be nice since her art is in the show n all. “Wow, you look amazing. If you change your mind and wanna stay home tonight just lemme know.” He jokes.

“Tempting.” She smiles back as they finish greeting each other.

“I gotta grab my jacket from the trunk, one second.” He says as he pops the trunk open. A moment later he’s running back, half of his body is outside the car he leans inside. "For you." The red rose he bought from her in his hand, the smile that erupts onto her face has her cheeks hurting.

“Anakin, you’re so sweet.”

“Whoops sorry, here’s the rest.” She looks at him confused before he moves fully in front of the open door, a large bouquet of roses sit in his hands.

Instead of her usual sweet reply, she stares at him as he sits down in the driver's seat, the roses taking up quite a bit of space. Her eyebrows are furrowed as her mouth is still open in awe. She tries to stop the feeling of tears but it’s no use, they well up in her eyes and begin to drip and trickle down her cheek.

“Don’t cry, Cutie.” His eyes soften at her.

She gains some courage to reach out and grab the flowers, looking down at them with her, now, very wet cheeks. “You really didn’t have to.” She sniffles, wiping her tears and nose with her sleeve. “I wanted to, I love you, Y/n.”

She sniffles once more, “I love you too. Thank you.” Anakin’s not sure whether she’s thanking him for the flowers or his feelings towards her, but it makes him feel good either way. During the ride she decides to put the flowers in the back, the need to hold onto him after that was strong.

“Where are we going first?” They see a bunch of people around the school, not sure where the official entrance is.

She looks around at the outside venue before pointing to the place she wants to start looking around, knowing her piece is the opposite way.

It was unbelievably nice to look around and chat about the art pieces, some are statues, clay, and of course, paintings. Now, the moment she’s been dwelling on. She spots her painting a few feet down. “Wow, these paintings are so pretty.” Y/n says, trying to make it seem like something wasn’t eating her up inside. The natural speed of their walking, and brief stops, finally brought them to her painting. A sign in front of it spells out his name as the name of the piece, and her name as the author is right under it. Anakin’s hand on her back rubs her clothed skin, as it has been on and off for the past hour. His fingers feel like fire through her dress.

Her senses are heightened, the sound of the ground under their feet, the chatting of people around them, and the wind is all very loud. Her heart beat especially.

She doesn’t say anything as they walk in front of her section. “Heh, this looks like the eyes you always draw.” She gulps at his observation, waiting for him to read the sign. In a confused voice, he lets out a “Y/n..?” As he stares at the vivid blue on the canvas and the sign that has his name as the title of the painting, it all hits him at once. She can’t possibly look at him, she’s already having trouble regulating her breathing. But, he grips her and spins her to face him.

“This..is yours?” He pauses, eyes full of emotion. “You were drawing me? All those sketches I saw..were me?” He searches her eyes for something, anything in the moment.

“I’m sorry if you find it creepy-.” She begins explaining herself, but he cuts her off. “Y/n, no. I love it, more than I can express.” He never imagined anyone would do this, would ever take such an interest in him more than his physical abilities and attractiveness.

“I can’t believe it. Come here.” He says, taking her to a less populated area. Once they’re there, he grabs her face gently. His eyebrows are knit together as tears well in his eyes. “Y/n, I, I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Thank you for loving me."

It didn’t very long for them to make their way to her bed once more, this time was different though. She felt it in the air, in the way he pressed loving kisses to the expanse of her skin. The dress she’s wearing is bunched around her hips as he lays in between them, kissing down her thighs.

“Gonna make you feel good, Cutie.”

His nose nudges her clothed cunt, it has her hips stuttering upwards. He smiles as he carefully prods her with his tongue over her panties, soon settling on her clit to suckle lazily. "Anakin." She whines, the teasing becoming too much for her. Her boyfriend smiles before moving up to the waistband, kissing sultry kisses into her skin and the fabric, it ends with him nipping at the clothing and tugging it down her body with just his teeth. She hopes she doesn't go into cardiac arrest because of him.

His large hands grip her thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and spreading her wide with two fingers. "Such a pretty pussy for me, Cutie." He mumbles into her as he licks firmly up her slit to her clit. Her back reacts first, then her hands get lost in his hair. She's never been eaten out before, the feeling coupled with the perpetrator being Anakin made her mind fuzzy. He eases his tongue inside of her, licking around before he groans. The vibrations pulling a loud moan from Y/n.

"I knew you'd taste good, so perfect for me."

His praise added a new layer of heat to her face and chest, the dress she was wearing suddenly very hot. Anakin narrowed in on her clit, his finger pulled back the hood so he could suck purely on the bundle of nerves. A choked whine leaves her, her back arches fully at the sensitivity. The liquid fire in her gut spreads like lava as she unexpectedly comes, the moans are stuck in her throat as she processes the euphoria flowing through her. His sucking becomes gentler as he prolongs her orgasm.

"You did so good for me, Baby. God, you drive me crazy. You see what you do to me?" He hotly asks, pushing his jeans down enough to grip his erection through his briefs. An ache settles in her pelvis, the need to be filled becoming almost unbearable. "I need you, Anakin. Feel so empty without you." His eyes close for a second before he fully undresses, soon doing the same to her as she pushes the material of her dress up and over her head. The both of them feeling the effects of the other person.

He pushes in and leans down, catching her lips in a kiss. "I love you, Y/n." She mutters back the sentiments, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the initial stretch of him. The veins that line his shaft are felt through her tight walls, it drives her crazy.

"Fuck, so tight for me." He mumbles, dropping so their bodies are pressed flush against each other. His head rests on her neck as he picks up his pace, rutting into her needly. Light lines of red come to life on his back due to her fingernails, the pressure only drives him further into her. The only other sound besides their mixed moaning and groaning is the squelching from how wet she is, Y/n bites her lip in embarrassment, and Anakin's hips stutter.

"So wet for me, love this pussy so much."

A layer of sweat forms between their bodies as he keeps going, and a hand drifts down between them to rub at her clit. His thumb keeps up with his thrusting, only rubbing faster when she cries out. “Gonna come for me, Cutie?” He breathes heavily, planting deep kisses against her neck and chest.

She nods quickly, clinging onto him. “So close for you.” Her voice is a tad hoarse as she speaks up.

“Let go, need to feel you.”

His plead pushes her off the edge. Her hips do as they please and buck up into him, plunging him deep into her. Fireworks set off behind her closed eyelids and her brain lulls to a stop, letting the overwhelming feeling take over her limbs as they shake. Just as she comes out of it a loud groan sounds from him, “Mm, Baby, where do you want me?”

“In me, please come inside me.”

The idea of coming inside her ends it all for him, dirty thoughts and images run through his mind a mile a minute as he shoves himself as deep as he can go. The warmth of him finishing in her has zaps of electricity shooting up and down her spine.

“You did so good, Y/n.” He pants from above her, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss before he pulls out. The sight after he does is picture-worthy, his come leaks out of her and it almost makes Anakin hard again. A moment passes before he takes his middle and ring finger and pushes the rest back inside of her.

“You’re so pretty with my come leaking out of you, my little tortured artist.”

She chuckles out of breath before he speaks up again.

"I know this probably isn't the right time, but y'know how you helped with my botany homework?"

Her eyebrows draw together curiously, "Yes..why?"

"Well, I actually wasn't failing, I had an A in that class but I just wanted an excuse to talk to you more."

Her eyes grow wide at that, an incredulous smile on her face. "Seriously?"

He shrugs, "It worked, didn't it?"

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #star wars smut #star wars x reader #star wars fanfic #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #darth vader smut #darth vader x reader #darth vader fanfic

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circe69 · 1 year

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Could I please request 21.) zipping up a dress for you - "what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking." With Ghost? Like I can just imagine the tension if they weren’t together yet and they were still just in a ‘will they won’t they’ situation omg 😭💕 thank you!

absolutely anon! thanks for participating in my special :)

["what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking."]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐𝟏 - 𝐳𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - ❤︎

This was the worst-case scenario that you could possibly think of. Tonight, the Task Force was holding a banquet as a means of celebrating their recent victory, rescuing Kate Laswell back from being kidnapped. They were holding an auction, all the proceeds were to fund communities around them, specifically to help with missing kids.

The dress you were wearing, or, supposed to wear, was a little less than comfortable. A slim-fitting maroon gown that's zipper was stuck on it's on teeth, and it wasn't even halfway up your back yet.

You sighed as you stared at your backside in the mirror, most of it being completely exposed, showing off some freckles and birthmarks you completely forgot you had, and also some rather ugly scars and scratches from years past.

Thinking about who you could call, everyone was in meetings or preparing for the event themselves, all except for one person.

Ghost.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. He was an amazing solider, the best of the best, obviously, but when it came to making friends or being nice at all, he didn't know what he was doing.

It is different, and you can see that. Making conversation and willingly being kind whilst doing so wasn't the same as aiming a pistol and shooting it, but surely, he had other traits that allowed the former?

You were about to find out.

Picking up your phone in your slightly sweaty and clammy hands, you realized how stressed you really were. You dialed his number, his contact's name not even attached to it because you never bothered.

"Hello?" A deep voice spoke from the other side of the phone.

You inhaled sharply, and he immediately recognized who it was.

"Oh great, it's you," he spoke, and you could tell his mouth was stretched into a sly smile.

"Yes, it's me, I need help."

You heard Ghost shuffle around quickly, maybe even a knife being thrown out of its pocket, "What's wrong?"

Walking over to unlock the front door to hopefully let him in later, you balanced your phone between your bare shoulder and cheek, "No, nothing- nothing's seriously wrong, my dress just won't zip up and everyone else is busy."

Silence. You and Ghost marinated in it for a few seconds, and you swear you heard his tongue click against his teeth, something he only did when he was excited.

You heard him stand from his chair over the phone, "So I was the last resort? That's kinda mean, don't ya think?"

He was having a ball with this, but you on the other hand, your back was chilly and both of you had to be somewhere in less than an hour, so you wanted this show to get on the road.

"Just hurry up and GET. IN. HERE." Your words became decreased to nothing but a whispered shout at the end of your sentence, signaling how serious you were.

"Sheesh, woman, I'll be right the-"

You hung up before he could finish his sentence, and did one last look in the mirror to make sure nothing too scandalous was showing. It wasn't even 5 minutes that passed when there was a knock on your door.

"Come in," you yelled from your place in the bedroom. You heard the door creak open, "I'm in my room."

The sound of loafers clicking on your floor filled the hallway and echoing off the walls, right into your ears. You paused for a moment, realizing if Ghost was attending this event, he'd be dressed up too. That was something you weren't prepared to see.

He walked in, one hand in his pocket and the other fixing his simple black mask. No skull, no dirt, no face paint, no blood splattered. It was somehow classy. Ghost wore a regular black tux, a black tie tucked into his blazer, and a pristine white shirt peeking out from underneath it all.

It was safe to say the both of you were impressed with each other's outfits. His eyes skimmed over you, stopping right when he got to your hips. The red dress hugged them perfectly, dropping down into a regular A-line below. The train dragged on the ground, a few sparkles gently appearing at the edge.

"Wow."

You smiled at his loss for words. "Wow yourself, you look great. Now please, zip this thing up." You turned around, your bare back now facing Ghost, and his breath faltered at the sight. He took a few steps towards you without saying anything.

He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, it was deep and heavy, the way he was breathing. Like he was nervous, or excited, or maybe both. His hands were hesitant, but you slightly flinched as his fingers softly traced the slope of your back, slowly moving up and down. It was so soft, you weren't sure if he was even touching you at times, but instead just basking in the heat you were radiating.

"Is it really stuck? I might just have to ditch it if it's not working," you said, not sure if you were talking to yourself or him anymore.

"No, I'm - 'm just looking."

Your jaw slightly unhinged at his blatant confession. Just looking?

Finally, his fingers dipped lower to reach the zipper, and you shivered at the feeling.

"Hm. You ticklish?" He said as he slowly pulled up the zipper, leaving a finger in front so he could trace the entirety of your spine one last time.

"No," you said breathily. He didn't need to know how dizzy his touch was making you.

"Not really in any hurry, are we now?" His voice was dangerously low, seductively teasing you, and you loved it.

You shivered once more when his fingers reached the top of your back, drawing a small circle with his pointer finger on your skin.

"You have a birthmark there."

Humming in response, you turned around to face him. "Yes."

"You had a few more, but I was scared if I touched them, you'd freak out."

He started to walk out, looking both ways out the dark hallway as if he was crossing a street.

"I wouldn't freak out." You blurted, making him stop in his tracks, "You don't have to worry about that."

He nodded and said over his shoulder, "Noted."

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #modern warfare #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost x y/n #simon riley x you #circe69scribbles #circes1kevent

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imninahchan · 3 months

Text

⌜ 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮: strangers to lovers, my poor spanish skills, casual and unprotected sex [you can't do that, c'mon!], readerʼs a brazilian woman, some portuguese words, dirty talk, age difference, finger sucking, male oral, manhandling, light pussy spanking, ʽpapiʼ, dumbification, dacryphilia. ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹ʼ𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ꒱ sooo never thought about posting something in eng but @femmechaotic (thx baby) showed me her translation and i gave it a second chance. This was originally written by me in portuguese, thatʼs why the reader is brazilian. Eng is not our first language, sorry for any mistakes, just posting for the fun of it♡

𓍢ִ໋🀦 HE'S THE KIND OF MAN YOU'LL ONLY MEET ONCE IN A LIFETIME ─────

You realized this from the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time. Sitting a couple of tables away from his, on the balcony of the hotel lobby.

You simply couldn't help but notice it: the thick strands of dark hair, how his hands run through it, as the gentle morning wind blowed. The basic white tank top, a coat hanging over the chair next to him at the table. His big and pointed nose, his eyes hidden mysteriously behind the lenses of the fancy sunglasses.

He's definitely not Brazilian. You could tell just by the food he chose from the buffet on his plate. Youʼre just so genuinely intrigued by the whole set of ongoings, obsessed with watching him, that you forgot about your own — boring — breakfast. The buns were cooling next to the black coffee in the porcelain cup.

You wanted to open the messaging app on your phone and send a sassy comment to your best friend, saying something like: “omg u won't believe how cute is the guy i just saw”, but you didn't even have time for that. The man raises his chin, with his attention shifting from the phone device in his hands to noticing your presence ahead.

You look down immediately, feeling as if you had committed a crime and you've just been caught in the act. You bite your lip, trying to hold down a childish smile, like a vicious little girl. Your palms starts sweating; suddenly cold. The intention was to keep yourself busy with the porcelain cup in the short meantime, trying to deal with the awkward sensation of being caught.

Itʼs not working, of course. You didn't know whether to drink or not, sometimes you try to sip the hot liquid, but you give up halfway through, lost like a robot in a breakdown. And when he raises his eyes once more, in the same direction as you looked for so long, the man's gaze meet yours again.

It feels, apparently, like youʼre going to faint, to actually die, Jesus! You've never felt so embarrassed in your entire life and you insist on thinking about how you're never gonna be able to eat, think or breathe while being in this crime scene — also known as the balcony of the hotel lobby.

“Get up, then!”, you think to yourself. You pick up on a couple of the cold buns from the plate, taking a sip of the — now cold — coffee, and walking towards the lobby. Like, damn, youʼre not even dressed up, maybe the clothes are not so bad but you donʼt even have any makeup on or hair done the way you liked it so much (and did it religiously every day).

But there is an actual explanation for you not being ready. The plan, initially, was just having breakfast and enjoying the view for a short period of time, so you could visit the downtown in Madrid afterwards. Now, you are running away like a criminal, with your mouth full of bread heading towards the elevator.

When you finally thought that the closing of the gray automatic doors would mean freedom, your heart has one more reason to flutter, as soon as the man steps into the cubicle before he could lose the sight of you.

You decide to chew more quickly, hiding the other roll of bun between your hands. Standing next to you, he takes off his pair of glasses, holding his coat and a crossbody bag.

He looks at you.

— Enzo — he says, and from the way he announced his name, you can tell by his accent that he speak Spanish. You swipe the back of your hand over your mouth, wiping away any remaining crumbs.

— Oi... hmm — You stammer the response in Portuguese, automatically panicking again for a few seconds when realizing that your brain couldn't think of a greeting, even in your first language. After some quick struggles, you tell him your name.

— ¿Eres de aquí? ¿de Madrid? (Are you from here? From Madrid?)

— Ahm... — You stutter, again (unfortunately). — Brasil!

He smiles.

— Ah, sí. Brasil... ¡Es un lugar magnífico! (Oh, yes. Brasil... It's a wonderful place!) — and praises. But his gaze turns sharp, he needs to know: “Entiendes lo que digo, ¿no?” (Do you understand what I say, right?)

— Sí, sí! (Yeah, yes!) — you return with a wide smile back at him, almost hyperventilating.

Your desperation is pathetically noticeable, itʼs cute actually. He watched you, smiles softly, almost like a chuckle. The curiosity gets into your nerves, you wanted to ask more questions, extend the conversation, but the elevator reaches your floor, and you leave, too withdrawn to say anything.

“Shit”, you curse at yourself, it wasn't so difficult to have a decent small talk, you should've said something, anything. You brood all day long, thinking you're such a dummy for missing the opportunity. Why did you have to act like a stupid teenager, huh? Then, after what happened, not even the museums — that you were so excited to visit — were fun anymore, no place in this goddamn city could take away that little thread of regret from you.

In the next day, however, you go down for some coffee at the same time as you did the other day, with the foolish intention of trying to see him again, and thatʼs it, it worked; like a freaking miracle. The man was sitting in an armchair in the lobby, it seemed like he was waiting for you too, what were the odds?

You can even feel your legs wobble.

— ¡Buenos días! (Good morning!) — he greets you. — ¿Cómo se dice ‘Buenos días’ en Brasil? (How do you say ‘Good morning’ in Portuguese?)

It takes a few seconds for you to think and say it back, ‘Bom dia’ (Good morning), you respond. He smiles.

— Es muy parecido (It's pretty similar) — he comments, awkwardly. Then, looks at the buffet, “¿Vamos?” (Shall we?)

Although he sometimes used terms that you completely donʼt know the meaning of and have to ask him to explain again, the conversation is, apparently, going very well. You discover that he is older, Uruguayan, and not Spanish as you immediately thought he was. You tell him a little about the country you come from, and he gets enchanted by the way your accent pronounces his name. Enzo. Paying attention to the ʽzʼ sound, unlike the pronunciation in Spanish.

it was with his company that you explored the city. The both of you went to a small square together, had some ice cream, met tourists hotspots, then chatted while exploring a little shop nearby. You hated to admit it but the situation was indeed romantic. Later in the afternoon, you were taken by him to a bar.

There, the conversation extended even further, including the beer you guys shared. When you didn't understand anything he said, (what was quite often in the conversation) you just laughed, your cheeks getting really hot and red from smiling that much. Honestly, you could leave him talking to himself for hours, just because you loved the husky sound of his deep voice and his pair of brown sparkling eyes.

It didn't mean that you were in love or anything, right? Besides, there was no way you could fall in love in such a short period of time.

But the heat you felt emanating from your own body definitely meant something. It could be because of the dark blue button-down shirt — these pieces never fail to be attractive, right? —, or the silver ring that caught your eyes every time he articulated with his hands in the air. Even his perfume... ah, the perfume! A fragrance that filled your lungs, woody but with a slight sweet note. Projecting all day long, torturing, practically inviting you to bury your face in the curve of the moreno's neck.

At nighttime, he takes you back to the hotel: his excuse was that he wanted to help you with the shopping bags, as if you had bought all of Madrid. And it was supposed to end there, at your hotel room door, simple as that. He hands you your things, and the most he does is lean over, slowly, as if he is silently asking for permission, and so, he places a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, millimeters away from touching your lipstick-painted lips. But you hold his hand, before the man walks away down the hall, you donʼt let him escape.

He approaches you again, his other hand touches the corner of your face. Warm, affectionate. ¿Qué te pasa, nena? (What's wrong with you, baby?) The focus of his brown eyes are on your mouth now, the question is whispered, seductive. The touch of his fingers bypass your jaw until it gets on your chin. ¿Quieres algo más que un beso? (Do you want something more than a kiss?)

Youʼre not sure which words to use, which command to prefer. In fact, you donʼt even want to be thinking. You want to shut your brain, to be so dissociated so that only your body can enjoy the moment. You wrapp your arms around him, your face can finally hid in the curve of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his. You hear the sound of his chuckle, feeling his big hands being placed on your waist. ¿Qué quieres? Dímelo. (What do you want? tell me)

You look up to him, shy. The tip of your nose rubs against his, creating a friction that, just because of the absurd proximity, makes everything even more tense, burning erotic.

— No Brasil — you say, trying to hide it by biting your lip —, se diz ‘foder.’

Enzo's smile grows, almost in slow motion. “Foder” (fuck), he repeats the word in a whisper. Again, you donʼt even have to think much to understand. Everything sounded similar, and it seemed that your mind was connected to his by a chaotic carnal desire.

The Uruguayan's lips meets yours; his hot tongue brushes against yours. Your bodies take on a life of their own. Little by little, the main setting stopped being the hotel hallway and became your room. The door gets closed with a gentle push from his feet, while the chosen path is towards your bed.

His hands moves up from your waist to grab your blouse and take it off from your warm body. When you lay on the mattress, supporting on your elbows, itʼs the cue the man needeed to messily pull down your shorts.

— ¿Quieres ponerte de rodillas? (Do you want to be on your knees?) — he asks, as he unbuttons his own blouse. The sharp look he gives you, bathed in desire, delirious. On his lips, you notice the smudged red of your lipstick. — Correrme en tu boca... (Cum in your mouth...)

Maybe itʼs your mind lost in urgency, because you donʼt process what was said to you. You keep your eyes still, your mouth half-open, taking in air, panting. So pathetic that all he does is laugh at your face, running his hands through his hair instead of going straight to the belt of his shorts.

— ¿Qué? ¿No lo comprendes, no? (What? you don't understand it, do you?) — the tone used with you bordered mockery. And contrary to what you would normally feel like, it gives room to a sick feeling, butterflies in your stomach, you feel even more horny, stimulated. He leans in close. — Mira. (Look)

And as if you were learning something for the first time, you imitate him when he parts his lips. You let the man's thumb drag over your lower lip, and then his middle and index fingers together slide over your tongue, until they occupy your mouth. “Así” (like that), he pushes and retreats with his hand, in a slow, sensual movement, “Metértelo en la boca.” (Put it in your mouth)

Ah, now you understand him well. Your face burns, the wet way the fingers come out of your mouth, a little strand of saliva kept resisting in the distance, itʼs wanton. You nod, kneeling on the wooden floor, eyes glued to him unbuckling his belt until you could have his erection in full view.

You part your lips once again, as you were ‘taught’. He fills your mouth, up to a point where your nose touches his crotch, and comes back, completely wet. It allows the Uruguayan to control the pace, to catch the corner of your face. You raise your gaze to his, surrendered not only by the lasciviousness of what you were doing, but also by the beautiful view you had of his face from that angle.

Enzo uses the index finger of his free hand to run down the curve of your nose, affectionately.

— Qué ojitos más bonitos... (You have such beautiful little eyes) — he praises you, with a smile. At that moment, you could swear your heart felt like it exploded. — Eres tan bella, nena. Preciosa. (You are so beautiful, baby. Precious) — he sighs, his head falls back, then to a slide side angle. He looks at you in such a mischievous way that you avoid returning the look. — Me encantaría correrme en tu boca... pero prefiero guardarlo todo para dentro de ti. (I would love to cum into your mouth... but I prefer to keep it all inside you)

You get taken back to bed, easily manhandled by him when you silently gave up control of the situation. He comes over, dangerously close, unlocked the front fitting of your bra, getting lost between your breasts as soon as he releases them from the tightness of the piece. You hold onto his hair, restless under the delicious sucking of his tongue, the wild bite of his teeth. You gasp, having to move away from the black threads of his hair while his mouth travels down your belly.

He releases you from the last piece of underwear too, the wet kisses were loud and pornographic, crackling on your skin. The tip of his big nose rubs lightly over the area where he knew your sensitive clit was. His palm run through your wetness, the chill of the his silver ring sliding across your boiling skin.

He clicks two, three slaps in a row that makes you shudder, whimpering softly. Enzo smiles, he didn't need to, but he returned to that mocking tone from before, of someone who had to calmly spell out the commands so you could understand.

He brings his hand to your lips, gave a little tap on the top, de aquí, and then went all the way down again, leaving a wet trail until he gave your pussy another tap, a aquí. And itʼs these little details that makes everything even better. It makes you feel so dumb, foolish, but itʼs so strangely good...

When he puts himself inside you, you lock your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him dominate everything in you. He, however, insists on eye contact, lifting his torso, resting his forearm against the mattress, to look you in the eye. He smiles, panting like you; moaning low, hoarse. At first, slow, but soon he surrendered to the speed, to the sharp sound of your moans with each stronger thrust.

And there where so many thrilling impulses, fuck it... You want to cover your mouth, close your eyes to try to contain yourself. Itʼs the nasty noise of your bodies in shock, his deep voice, the scent of his hot skin. Youʼre so sensitive that your eyes get wet, a little tear runs down your cheek.

— Oh, no... Perdón, perdóname, cariño. (Oh, no... I'm so sorry, honey) — he stops, his thumb wipes the tear from your face.

'En—', you even started to want to call his name, but the frustration of no longer receiving the same thrilling sensations and to the same extent was such that you only knew how whine; your mind melting, finally murmuring “Dale, dale, papi.” (Give it to me, please, daddy)

Enzo smiles again. He leaves a few kisses on your lips, repeating your words between the kisses, as if he was making fun of your desperation and also the term you used to refer to him.

— ¿Más rápido, hm? Más duro? (Faster, hm? Harder?) — he turns you over on the bed, putting you on all fours. The dirty talk makes you smile, dumb with lust already, clinging to one of the pillows. The Uruguayan's body lead over yours, bringing his mouth close to your ear. — Tranquila, nena. Te daré todo lo que quieras. ( Calm down, baby. I will give you everything you want.)

#imninahchan #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic smut #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #a sociedade da neve

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haetrack · 3 months

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hi!! can i request for smut jaem who lets you borrow his computer while he's still in his room. and he watches you from the back of his gaming chair and slowly becomes touchy (like hugging your neck and caressing your body slowly until he fingers you while still sitting on his chair) oh! and you guys can't be too loud because members are at the kitchen. hehe thanks omg

req 2: bf!jaemin x f!reader (ft. roommates haechan and jeno)

wc: 2.8k

warnings: smut (MDNI!), jealousy, dirty talk, fingering, light exhibition and voyeurism, one bite on the neck, light gagging, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader, accidental roommate haechan favoritism (im sorry)

it’s rare that you go to jaemin’s apartment. in a mutual, undiscussed understanding at some point, you both decided that it’s better that you go to your apartment over jaemin’s. he’s wary of his roommates being in your presence. he tries making small excuses, he hasn’t cleaned, he has class, even takes you out to eat before you can step foot in his apartment.

he’s seen the way that his roommates look at you. he swears he’s not a jealous person, but he can’t really help it when it comes to you. it’s when he sees haechan cuddle up to your side, sees jeno try to carry your stuff when you come in. he feels bad for lying to you, but it’s better than constantly seeing them flirt with you.

he realizes you coming over might be unavoidable tomorrow. you called him nearly crying, saying how your laptop wasn’t turning on while having multiple assignments due. he couldn’t just let you cry, not while knowing that he has a solution for you in his room. he stares at his computer, looming over the consequences of letting you come over. he’d rather see you pass your classes, more importantly, be happy.

he tells you that you can come over tomorrow to finish whatever you need. you happily tell him thank you, how he’s the best boyfriend in the world. he laughs airly in the mic, saying he’d do anything for his angel. at the end of the call, before you say goodnight, he hears you say can’t wait to see everyone tomorrow. he grits his teeth, giving the nicest response he can to that. you laugh, telling him goodnight. before he turns off his phone though,

jaemin: don’t forget to ask for extensions for your assignments ❤️

you: aaaa i forgot!!! thank u baby 🫶

the dreaded day comes. he decides to pick you up after your class so you can get started on your work right away. he coos, hands cupping your face as he comforts you from the call last night. you grin at him, grabbing one of his hands to place a kiss on it. he has to forcibly stop himself from pressing kisses all over your face, deciding to grab you by the waist and walk you to his car. it all feels normal, and jaemin almost drives to your apartment instead of his.

he tries not to frown too hard when you both arrive, taking a deep breath before opening the door. he knows everyone is in the apartment (because who likes having classes on fridays), so he can’t even move you to his room safely. he opens the door to find jeno and haechan seated on the couch together, immediately taking note of you.

“it’s been so long since i’ve seen you here!” haechan starts, and before he can hug you, jaemin moves to give you a back hug. haechan scoffs, “it’s almost like your boyfriend has been hiding you from us, huh?”

you tease him for his dramatics, “i would be coming over if you guys weren’t so busy all the time! every time i want to come over, jaemin says you’re too busy.”

“i wonder why he’d say that,” jeno snides, “i like seeing you around here.”

“i like seeing my boyfriend’s friends, too! he’s gatekeeping you guys a little too hard.” jaemin dryly laughs at your joke before pulling your backpack off your shoulders and onto his. he sees jeno looking at him before chuckling at the sight, knowing exactly why he was doing that.

“well, my baby has a lot of work to do, so we better get going to my room…” jaemin says, trying to get you out of there before anything else happens.

haechan raises his eyebrows as you leave, “see you soon, angel.”

jaemin turns to give them the middle finger before he shuts the door.

you sit yourself at his desk. despite your lack of visits to his apartment, you feel familiar in his space. he turns on everything for you, sad that his baby has to do all this work when you’re at his place. you thank him once again, pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek. “anything you need, i’ll get it for you.”

“actually! can you refill my bottle for me,” you grab it out of the side pocket, “forgot to fill it up before we left campus.”

“of course. be right back.” he grins. he kisses you as if he won’t be back in two minutes or less. you let out an appreciative sigh, quietly thanking him once again as you ignore the heat on your face.

jaemin slowly makes his way out of the room, tries not to bring any distractions to you and your work time. he tiptoes in the hallway, kitchen close to his room. he can hear both haechan and jeno’s voices in the middle of a conversation, and he can’t help but listen in. when he hears one slip of your name, he barges in, cutting off their talking immediately.

“you should’ve told us we’d be having a guest today,” haechan slinks next to jaemin, eyes playfully challenging him, “we all could’ve watched something together.”

“you didn’t even let me grab her backpack,” jeno sulks, “i could’ve done that myself.”

“well, those aren’t really your jobs, are they? guess who’s her boyfriend and guess who are not.” jaemin closes the refrigerator, pouring in the filtered water you so nicely asked for.

haechan raises his hands in defense, “i’m just saying, if you bring someone so pretty over, i can’t help but look.”

jeno nods in agreement, “if i were you, i’d be showing her off at any chance i could get.”

jaemin loudly disagrees, “this is how i can tell you’ve been single for too long! you just don’t get it.”

haechan whines, “maybe you could do us a favor and help our sad, lonely sex lives with the help of your-”

jaemin cuts him off, “nope.” before haechan can say anything else, jaemin walks away, and haechan is earned with a second middle finger of the day.

jaemin never feels like this.

he can feel how jealous he is in the pit of his stomach. it’s only you two in the room, you at his desk, and him laying uncomfortably in his bed. though the brightness of his phone screen is glaring back at him, he’s more focused on the sight of you at his desk. he’s not sure you’re aware of haechan and jeno’s feelings towards you, but he’s trying everything to stop them.

he knows they aren’t being serious. haechan is constantly joking about everything, and jeno’s just… like that. though he could never blame you for anything, you’ve never let anyone else have your undivided attention but him. he knows you love him, but he can’t shake this feeling off. he needs a little reassurance right now and he’ll try not to bother you too much.

it all goes wrong when he stands behind you in his gaming chair. you look so good right now, in his room, in his chair. once you feel his presence behind you, you look up and smile. his face mirrors yours, and he plants a sweet kiss to your lips, “keep going, pretty, just wanna watch you for a bit.”

you nod, getting back to your work. his eyes are stuck on your every movement, watching you type, how you shake your leg, how you bite your lip in concentration. you look so pretty like this, not knowing how a familiar feeling sets to the bottom of jaemin’s stomach, eyes becoming hooded at the sight of you. after hard contemplation, he lets his hands settle on top of your shoulders.

he can tell you’re smiling, head nuzzling up against his arm. his bends over to place his head on your shoulder, hands moving to slip up and down your sides. he can feel how warm your face is, the close proximity making you nervous. his hands move a little lower to your hips, grabbing at the skin there. he hums appreciatively, liking how soft you feel under his touch. he can feel you slightly squirm around, trying not to let his touches distract you.

you can feel his warm breath on your shoulder, sending chills down your spine. what’s unexpected is how you feel his tongue swipe across your skin before leaving a wet kiss there. you shudder, and you can feel his sickly-sweet smile against your skin. you whine out his name, and he shushes you, pressing more kisses onto your skin.

you can feel yourself getting lost in him, your eyes skipping over the words in an article you’re reading, mind becoming hazy. your head lolls to the side, giving him more access to your neck. he licks up from the junction of your neck up to your jaw, his hands warming themselves up by your thighs. his hands come close to your core, before he removes them completely by putting them under the shirt you’re wearing.

“jaemin, please.” you’re not really sure what you're asking for, but when you feel his hands by the cup of your bra, you can’t help the pleads coming out of your mouth.

“tell me what you want, pretty. need to know what my angel wants so i can give it to her,” he hums out, fingers messing with the fabric of your bra.

“just-” your breath hitches when he bites down on your neck before leaving a small kiss, “need you, jaemin. wanna feel you in me, just please give me more.”

“all you had to do was ask, angel.” his hands push up your bra over your boobs, groping around them, pinching at your nipples. you whisper out a kiss me, and he just can’t say no to his baby, reaching over further to kiss you. your work is left neglected, the only things mattering right now is your boyfriend and the ache between your thighs. he can see how needy you are, how your moans slip in his mouth, how you push your chest into his hands.

one hand leaves your chest to slip under your pants and underwear, meeting with your wet folds, “so wet, baby, dripping all over with just a few touches.”

“just for you, jaemin. please, need your fingers.”

and who is he to say no to you? his fingers tease your entrance, a loud whimper slipping out of your mouth. jaemin remembers that you both aren’t alone, hearing the light shuffling throughout the apartment. he removes his other hand from your chest, pressing it over your mouth to cover up your sounds, “can’t be too loud, pretty. those sounds are only for me to hear.”

one finger slips inside of you, a muffled moan covered up by his hand. you can hear him lowly chuckle at you, happy with the results. with being teased too much before, you clench around his fingers, signaling to him that you need more. he obliges, of course, another finger moving inside of you. he curls them in you, feeling for that sweet spot inside you. once he finds it, he feels you moan, feels how drool is already slipping past your lips.

he can feel how hard he’s straining against his sweats, but too enamored by you to do anything about it. plus, he’d rather fuck you without having haechan or jeno around. they don't deserve to hear you like that at all. his breath is getting heavy, he needs to see how he’s affecting you, needs to see his pretty angel’s face.

he pulls his chair back, allowing himself to kneel on the floor in front of you. it’s not until now you can see just how affected your boyfriend is by this. his cheeks are pink, lips swollen from the kissing and biting, your boyfriend on his knees just for you. he has a lazy smile on his face, eyes full of love for his angel. he presses kisses along your thighs, your legs slowly opening up from him to see.

his hand is no longer covered over your mouth, tsking at the sight of your pleading eyes. “trust you to not make so much noise. don’t want everyone else to hear how good i make you feel, hmm?”

you quickly nod, jaemin reaching up to press a soft kiss to your lips. even now, at times where he has you like this, he manages to be so sweet. it only turns you on more. he spreads your legs further apart, looking at how wet and needy your pussy is for him, begging for his help. he presses a kiss to your clit, your thighs closing around his head. he lets out a genuine laugh before he playfully scolds you, telling you to behave.

his fingers move to your aching core, once again slipping his fingers in. you clench tightly around them, your hips rolling in time with him. his thumb hooks up to rub your clit, your thighs almost closing around his hand. he moves to force your legs open, pressing quick kisses along the insides of your thighs. “my angel is always so sensitive, love it so much.”

you’re biting down onto your bottom lip, whimpers threatening to come out. he’s so content with just watching you fall apart, his head resting on your thigh, eyes roaming all over your body. you aren’t sure what exactly riled him up, but it doesn’t matter when he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. you can’t stop the little sobs that escape you as you feel yourself unraveling.

he can see tears forming in your eyes, the pleasure being almost too much for you. he can feel you shaking under his hold, feels how you’re dripping all over his hand. he sees your composure slip as he adds one more finger, a sharp whimper of his name leaving your lips. he watches in morbid curiosity as you grab his free hand and move it up to your mouth, gagging yourself with his fingers.

he nearly cums in his pants at the sight of you overcome by pleasure, the feel of your tongue slipping between his fingers. you wanted to be so good for him to the point of where you wanted to be gagged, wanting to please him more than anything. he doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t care if haechan or jeno can hear you, doesn’t care about his throbbing cock spilling precum in his boxers. he’s so infatuated with you.

he’s pulled out of his daze when he hears footsteps of someone walking towards the rooms. you moan out to him that you’re close, can hear how sopping wet you are and how you’re clenching tightly around his fingers. your muffled voice comes out, “p-please, jaemin. please! i wan’ cum so bad. wanna cum all over your fingers!”

“yeah? my angel wants to cum?” he asks, hearing how the footsteps stop in front of his door. “cum all over my fingers, show me how much you love me. only me.”

you moan loudly as he lets his fingers slip out of your mouth, moving his now wet fingers to your boob to help you cum. your chest arches forward and your hips grind down, nearly screaming as you cum all over his fingers. he helps you ride it out, praises you for being so good for him, being his sweet angel.

he hears the footsteps quickly walk away from his door, smiling to himself at the thought of someone hearing the both of you. he sees tears slip out of your eyes, he moves up to kiss your cheeks, whispering to you about how much he loves you. you nod, eyebrows furrowed and mouth unable to say anything just yet. he sits back down to let you catch your breath, one hand soothing over the soft skin of your thigh.

he sees you slowly come back to him, sees the tired smile you give to him. “let’s move to the bed, angel. wanna cuddle with you.”

you hum in agreement, and he drags you over, letting you lay down comfortably onto his bed. he joins you, presses kisses all over where he can reach. “you did so good for me. i love you so much.”

“i love you too, jaem.”

he feels your breaths get deeper, letting yourself fall asleep happily against him, all work and stress forgotten. jaemin almost falls asleep too, not until he feels how his phone begins buzzing.

haechan: god DAMN

haechan: did u guys have to do that NOW???

jeno: do what

jeno: DO WHAT!!!!!!!

haechan: THEY BOTH FUCKED AND I HAD TO HEARRRR

jaemin: literally no one told you to listen in

jaemin: and we didnt even have sex youre delusional

haechan: well u know

jaemin: dont even finish what youre going to say

jaemin: hopefully now you know who my angel loves most ❤️

haechan: who said that

jeno: i suddenly cant read

jaemin: 🖕

a/n: thank u for the request 🫶 literally loved writing this jaemin we all love u. my first jaemin post i’m kinda nervous… i hope u nanadoongies enjoy muah muah

taglist: @vqlentinez @froggyforyoongi

#asks #reqs :3 #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct scenarios #jaemin smut #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic

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