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#we’re ever close enough that we can talk about it or. whatever.

strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

Text

just tonight pt 2

summary: you and chris are forced to discuss moments of your past when the night before changes everything part 1

I woke up with the sun shining far too brightly through the partly closed curtains. The hotel room air conditioner hummed as a chill overtook the room. I tried to pull the covers over me, but I struggled, dead weight on top of them.

I turned over my shoulder, finding Chris, knocked out. His lips were parted slightly, the slightest snore leaving his mouth. I would normally find this annoying, but he looks so peaceful. His curls are messy, flopping across his forehead, some strands holding a tighter curl than others. I want to play with them while he sleeps like this.

His body rises a little bit through every breath. I’m in a trance, watching his movements. I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel my stare burning into him.

His eyes open slowly, barely, before he shuts them again, closing his mouth and humming. “Good morning.”

His low morning voice sends chills down my spine in the best way. I mumble, “Morning,” in response, the events of last night playing on repeat in my head.

He gives me a soft smile before lifting his head weakly, making his fatigue known. He places it carefully in my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw before I feel his eyes shut, his lashes fluttering against my cheek.

I can’t stop myself from wondering if we made a mistake. It was just a kiss, and it doesn’t have to happen again. We don’t have to take it further.

But right now I feel our hearts beating against each other and all I’m thinking about is how great it would be to wake up like this every day.

We lay alone with our thoughts until Chris’ phone rings, a call from Nick. He sits up straight, his back on display as the duvet cover lays across his lap.

“How fast can you get dressed?” Chris asks me, stepping out of the bed.

I do the same, assuming we’re in a rush. “I won’t take long, why?”

He digs around in his suitcase, pulling a graphic tee out and pulling it over himself. “Breakfast closes soon downstairs, and you’re in all my stuff. The boxers only make this look worse.”

I lower my gaze to my bottoms - a pair of his underwear. They hang lower on my hips due to my sleep, and Chris’ eyes can’t move them away.

“Yeah,” I nod. “You’re right.”

The morning goes on with me and Chris back with Nick and Matt. Things have unfortunately gone back to exactly how they were before this trip. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I don’t know why I thought things would be different, but I would be a complete idiot to think that Chris would ever not treat me like shit.

“I was looking around at places we could take pictures later today if you guys are down,” I suggest.

As Nick peeks over at my phone, a groan leaves Chris’ mouth. One full of disgust. Nick gives him a look and asks, “What’s your problem?”

“The less time I have to spend with her, the better,” he comments. “I’m miserable enough having to watch her while I eat, not to mention having to sleep in the same room.”

“Well, at least this way you can prove to Santa that you’re not a naughty guy after all and you can be moved to the nice list,” Matt teases, trying to break the tension at the table.

I’m embarrassed at how my mood has been ruined because of Chris. Ten minutes ago he was curled in my arms, kissing my jaw softly, and now he won’t look at me.

The worst part is, even when we’re alone in the car, or alone in public, he still won’t look at me.

I can understand him trying to keep things ‘normal,’ whatever that means for us, in front of his brothers. But for him to completely ignore me and blow me off when we’re alone is uncalled for. We still have yet to talk about what happened last night, no matter how many times I have wanted to bring it up. The first step is getting his attention, but he has no intention of letting that happen.

When the day ends and we all head to our rooms, I silently get myself ready for bed, ignoring him, just as he did to me.

As I’m standing in the mirror removing my makeup, Chris comes up behind me, leaning against the wall as he watches me.

“Can I help you?” I ask with a snappy tone, trying to set him off just as he was doing to me for hours today.

He sinches his eyebrows together, like he can’t believe I would ask that. “Something wrong?”

I scoff. “You tell me.”

I finish up in the bathroom and walk back out to the bedroom. Without realizing what I’m doing, I scoop up my belongings, stuffing them into bags and hooking the straps on my arms.

His eyes go wide as he races over to me. “What are you doing?”

“Getting another room.”

“No,” he stops me, or tries to at least. He makes an attempt to pull the bag off my arms, but I yank it back.

“Get off of me.”

“What are you doing?” he asks again.

“I’m not staying in here with you,” I say simply.

“Why not?”

“You know why!” I shout. I have this feeling in my throat like I’m going to crumble any second. I feel betrayed, taken advantage of, used. I feel awful. Why is he doing this to me?

“I’m sorry,” he says, doe eyed. “Please, stay here with me. We can talk, we can kiss again or–”

“No, Chris!”

He takes a step back, defeat lingering around him. “I don’t know what I did,” he says softly.

I head towards the door. “Then you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Do you think I want to act that way in front of everyone?” he fights back. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted things to be different? I’ve thought every day about how we could change things. I would change things if you’d let me, but I was never what you wanted. You pushed me away time and time again, and the only way for me to get over you was maintaining what we did have. We had a light hearted, teasing relationship, and whenever I threw something back at you, you threw it back with ten times more baggage.”

“So this is my fault?” I challenge his claims. “You’re using that excuse to let yourself believe that ignoring me all day as if you weren’t in my arms this morning was justified?”

“Please,” he mumbles. “Put your bags down.”

He looks at me like he’s on the verge of exploding. Like the dam is seconds from breaking. Like he needs me.

I toss my shit on the floor and stand in front of him, waiting.

“None of this is your fault,” he promises. “None of it. I shouldn’t have treated you like this today, but after last night, I didn’t know how to be around you and them and act like I wasn’t daydreaming about you laying with me all night. I kept picturing you in my lap, kissing me. I wanted it all day. I wanted you. Every time I think I have you, you’re gone.”

I’ve never left him. His brothers are my best friends. Even when Chris is a dickhead, I still love him. I would never want anything but good things for him.

“I would never leave you guys, Chris.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Chris, we used to be closer than anyone,” I remind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to be your friend anymore in the way we were. You won’t let me be that for you anymore.”

“I do,” he insists. “Please, just hear me out. Don’t go anywhere.”

I let out a sigh at his desperation. Before I know it, he’s leading me to the bed.

“Prom senior year,” he starts. “Your date didn’t show up.”

He promised he wouldn’t mention that again.

“Chris–”

“It was Nate’s idea,” he interrupts me. “He told me to step in, and I finally had the balls to. I was running down the street to the store in a fucking tux. I ran in and got you flowers, and when I came back you were gone. Everyone was gone.”

My heart drops. No one ever told me why he was late to prom that day. No one told me he was making an effort for me. Everything would have been different.

“You were gonna take me to prom?”

He swallows harshly as he nods, like he’s partly embarrassed for letting me know he failed, but that he’s proud of himself for trying.

“A few weeks later you came running into my room with the biggest smile on your face. You pulled my headset off while I was playing a game and made me guess why you were so giddy. I couldn’t guess, and you told me he asked you to be his girlfriend. The same guy that made you cry because he stood you up at prom, you were now his girlfriend. I felt like fucking shit. I tried to clean up the mess he made that night, and when I failed, he still won you? How was that fair?” he asks me.

I don’t have any answers for him.

“Then you spent the whole relationship telling me how awful he was,” he reminds me. “I was obviously going to be there for you if you needed me, but any time we were together, I had to pretend like I wasn’t interested. I had to try to respect your relationship with him, even though I hated him for making you miserable. I hated watching your smile fade and I hated that it was because of him. I did everything I could to cheer you up, and it worked, you know it did, but when you guys broke up, I thought it was my chance. You had no interest in me. It was so obvious. I just lost any hope of there being a chance with us, and the only way for me to get over that was to push you away.”

His words pour out of his mouth in a deep confession. Memories of us come flooding back into me like it was yesterday. Every look he gave me, every touch, every word shared.It’s all there.

I can’t help but hate my ex even more for keeping Chris from me.

I’m not mad at Chris anymore, but the frustration coursing through my veins masks my confusion for anger. And I aim it at the wrong person.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I thought you knew!” he shouts.

We both stand in silence, staring at each other as our chests heave, trying to regain our composure.

I shake my head, completely in shock at his confession. I used to cry to Nick, wondering why his brother was so mean to me after everything we shared together. He went from being the most important person to me to someone I barely knew.

I feel like an idiot for wasting so much time trying to hate him when in reality he was trying to protect me from anything bad in the world.

He couldn’t help it that he couldn’t catch up.

My face presses to Chris’ chest. I don’t know the moment I flung my arms around him and refused to let go, but the feeling of his heart beating against me brings me peace again, just like it did this morning in bed.

“I called the hotel,” he says. “I changed the reservation.”

I pull back from his chest, staring up at him.

“If that makes you uncomfortable, and you want to go stay with Nick, I completely understand,” he says. “I didn’t think we were going to kiss. I wasn’t planning on making any moves. I just wanted us to be friends again. I wanted you back in my life in the right way.”

My hands hold his cheeks as my lips desperately search for his. His arms wrap around my back, holding me as close as possible. The kiss is rough, both of us trying to gain dominance. I pull back from him to catch my breath, staring at his glossy eyes. The guilt is written on his face. The secrets he held from me for years.

“You could never lose me, Chris,” I assure him.

He rolls his lips into his mouth before licking his lips, basking in the taste of us. He nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe me. Fear takes over him before any sense of hope can.

“We’re going to be okay, I promise.”

It was his idea to sit in bed and watch cartoons, and we did just that for the rest of the night. It was my idea to order room service. We laughed in that bed, sharing innocent kisses that were stolen from us over the years. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take that from us again.

“Chris?”

“Hmm?” he hums in response, his fingers tracing over my back where it had snaked up his shirt that was hugging my skin, just as it was the night before.

“We won’t ever be just friends.”

He pauses for a moment before he responds.

“Good.”

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702 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Thirteen Rounds

Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship

Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?

Word count: 13.2k

Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo

A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪

FOUR WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.

Four weeks no sex.

That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.

He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.

“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.

“Just tired? Training hard today?”

Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.

“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”

He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”

“WHAT?”

“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.

He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.

“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”

“I know!”

He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”

You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.

“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”

He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.

“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”

It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.

“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”

“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”

“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”

You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”

You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?

“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”

He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.

You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.

“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”

He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.

“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.

“But I’m so wet already.”

Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.

“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.

“FUCK.”

He brings his hands to his face and rubs.

“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”

You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.

When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.

“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”

Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.

He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.

“Jungkook, please.”

He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.

He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.

He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.

You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”

His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.

While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.

“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”

He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.

“I’m going to shower.”

He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.

“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”

He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.

When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.

He almost chokes on his indignation.

“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.

“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”

He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.

“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”

When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.

“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“

“I can put some clothes on?”

Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.

“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”

“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”

“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”

He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.

“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”

Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.

“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”

You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.

“Night night, my little custard cream.”

“Night night, my love.”

He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.

THREE WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.

At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.

Hence, Me Time.

Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.

You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.

You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.

You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.

You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.

Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.

The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.

“God, I’ve missed that noise.”

You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

He shrugs.

“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”

“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”

You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.

He looks at the rabbit, appraising.

“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.

“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”

“Let me help you.”

You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”

The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.

“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”

He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.

“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.

“Wh-.. I...”

You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.

“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.

You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.

“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.

He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.

“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”

He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.

You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.

“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.

He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.

“What’s mine is yours, baby.”

“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”

“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”

Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.

“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.

“Don’t call me Jeon.”

“Isn’t it your name?”

He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”

His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.

“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”

You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.

“And me all ready for you...”

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.

“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”

He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”

“Kookie... Please.”

You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.

“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.

You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.

TWO WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.

Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.

“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”

He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.

“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”

You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.

He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.

“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”

You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.

“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”

“No, of course it’s not!”

Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?

He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.

“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“

“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”

He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.

“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”

He is what?

He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.

You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.

He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.

Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.

It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”

He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.

You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.

He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.

You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.

“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”

You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.

Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.

“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.

“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“

“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.

“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.

He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.

You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.

“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.

You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.

“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.

“Anything.”

“Ice. And water.”

“Huh?”

“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.

“Ok…”

You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.

With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.

He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.

“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.

“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”

“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”

He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.

ONE WEEK TO GO

Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.

You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.

Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.

He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.

Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.

“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.

“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”

You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.

“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”

You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.

“In six days.”

Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.

“Now get the fuck out.”

You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.

Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.

He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.

He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.

“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”

“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”

“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”

He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.

He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.

You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.

It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.

These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

FIGHT NIGHT

It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.

But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.

He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.

He pulls out his phone and dials your number.

“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.

“Something is wrong: I miss you.”

“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”

He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”

“I know and whose fault is that?”

“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”

“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”

“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”

“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”

He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.

“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”

“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”

“Yeah.

“Garibaldi?”

Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”

“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”

He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.

He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.

Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.

That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.

You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.

But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.

When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.

Jungkook is going to lose.

The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.

This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.

You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.

“8… 9… 10!”

The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.

Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.

“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”

He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.

He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.

He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.

The door opens and there you are.

“Fucking finally.”

Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.

“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”

“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.

Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.

“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”

He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.

“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.

“Shit.”

He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.

“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”

“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”

Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.

Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.

He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.

“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.

His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.

“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”

He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.

“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”

He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.

He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.

You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.

His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.

When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.

“You ok, my love?”

Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.

“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.

Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.

“Kookie.”

You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.

“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”

You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.

He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”

He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.

“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.

“I don’t have it,” you whimper.

“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”

And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.

“Jesus, fuck!”

He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.

Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.

He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.

“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.

You laugh and pat his shoulder.

“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”

“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”

“What title?”

The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.

When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“Both, I guess?” you answer.

He grins and shakes his head.

“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”

“What happened?”

“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”

“I fucking told you!”

“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”

“No more sex bans?”

“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”

“Good.”

You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.

“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts #mmm repost

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finsplurtz · 3 months

Text

nobody’s home — choso.kamo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo

— contents : step-cest , touching w/o consent uh oh , Choso tries to tell yn to stop but gives in bc he loves the feeling , handjob , biting n hickeys , mention of virginity loss n Choso does cry abt it , does change his mind abt it nd ends up rlly liking it , praises n degrading lolll

warnings : step cest obv , maybe.. r4pe implications not sure wtv

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Choso’s mother had divorced his father and she found a boyfriend who already had a kid.

The first time they met was … interesting. He got home from hanging out with some friends, he greeted his mom and step-dad, went into the bathroom and quickly backed out closing the door.

He covered his face, he had walked in to some guy shirtless in the bathroom. He went to ask his mom and she told him that, yn, was his new younger brother.

When they saw each other after that he apologized.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to you know…” yn smirked checking the guy out while he wasn’t looking.

“It’s cool, we’re both guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about” He flashed a smile before leaving to his room.

Yn was younger than Choso by 3-4 years.

Choso definitely caught onto the subtle hints that yn was throwing his way. Yn would sometimes invite him to watch a movie or something, he’d get super cuddly and touchy.. like have his arm wrapped around his waist or have his hand slowly massage his thigh.

Sometimes when they’d be out yn would insist on buying Choso a drink, or even smoking together or something, but he always found a way to make it sound intimate.

Maybe Choso was going crazy.. maybe yn was just really trying to have a nice sibling bonding moment and Choso was taking it the wrong way..

Okay enough of turning yn’s offers down, he definitely just wants to be close brothers.

“Hey, ‘oso. Mom and dad wanted to ask you something” yn popped into Choso’s room and went over to sit on his bed and handed him the phone. Usually his parents called on yn’s phone, since sometimes Choso doesn’t answer cs he’s busy studying or sleeping.

“Hey hon, just wanted to let you know we won’t be home till very late! It’s our 1 year anniversary and we have a lot planned” Choso hummed while yn took whatever book Choso was reading and skimming thru it.

He sighed and put the book back. Gently pulled Choso down towards the bed and cuddled him. Choso was still listening to his mom talk and talk but he wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding in his chest.

yn had his leg over Choso’s waist and arm over his chest. Choso could feel yn’s warm breath on his neck, his lips were an inch away from Cho’s skin.

Finally his mom ended the call and Choso was frozen.

“…uh…here’s your phone..” He said.

“Just put it on the counter or something” yn said in a low voice right under Choso’s ear. “….what are u doing”

“…nobody’s home, oso..~” Choso could practically hear yn’s smirk.

“Have you ever touched a guy..?” his hand gently massaged over Choso’s chest.

“…n-no…yn I- I don’t think this is…” Choso pushed yn’s arm away and managed to sit up.

“Mm..awww cmon.. we’re alone, nobody can walk in on us..” yn looked at his half brother with low eyes.

“S..still it’s just..w-wrong—“ Choso flinched when he felt yn tightly wrap his arm around Choso’s waist to keep him from squirming and dug his hands into Choso’s pants.

“y-yn..?! S..stop I don’t…!” His breath hitched when yn began to stroke him. Choso’s nails were digging into yn’s arm trying to squirm away or something. yn rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and continued to fap him.

“Ngh..! Mhhnn…~ s….stop..” Choso was panting and subconsciously grinding his hips into his brothers hand. He threw his head back exposing his neck, yn saw the opportunity and began to kiss and suck on Choso’s pale skin.

“Ahh~ f..fuck…~” Choso’s grip on yn’s arm loosened and he brought one hand up to cover his mouth.

“See…you love it, don’t you…~” yn whispered into the ravenette’s ear. Choso just whined, he didn’t really care anymore. Plus yn had a point, nobody would ever catch them doing this. It’s not like they were even related…

yn sped up his pace and stroked faster while sinking his sharp teeth into Choso’s neck.

“Ah- ah I’m gonna c..come—“ Choso gasped and grabbed onto yn’s hair tightly as he came and made a mess in his briefs. “Fuuuckk…s..so good~” He whimpered as his dick twitched in yn’s hand.

yn slid his arm off Choso’s waist and pulled his pants off along with his underwear. He easily lied him down on the bed and used the finger that had his cum on it to finger him.

“..nnnyooo…d..don’t….” Choso was too dizzy to put up a fight anymore. He just let out more moans and cries when yn found his prostate and massaged his fingers over it.

yn stroked himself, he loved the view. Choso’s pretty little hole being slowly opened by his fingers, just ready to take his cock..

yn pulls his fingers out and quickly pushed himself into Choso earning a gasp and whine from him.

“S-shit..! Y..you…” Choso felt tears welling up in his eyes, he wasn’t sure how to feel….

yn noticed and rolled his eyes. He leaned down to kiss Choso’s cheek.

“Don’t worry….your brother is gonna make you feel good..~” Choso blushed and screamed when said brother began to roughly thrust into him hitting him right in his g spot.

“UGHN-! F-FUCK TOO MUCH..!”Choso felt a tad bit overstimulated, but fuck did it feel good.

“Aww..look at you just taking my cock so well, hm?~ you love it…you love how well your little brother stuffs you, don’t you, prince..~” Choso moaned at yn’s dirty talk, he was so into this. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

“Right, Choso..?” He loved how his name sounded in yn’s mouth, he let out a slutty moan and smiled as best as he could.

“Mm..hm..~!” yn smirked and began to kiss Choso’s shoulder and back.

“Such a good little slut..” yn felt himself get close and stuttered in his thrusts.

Choso felt his second orgasm nearing, he gripped the sheets and stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes back.

“You’re all mine…my stupid toy..just for me to fuck, m…mkay..~?” Yn said into Choso’s ears pushing him over the edge.

“Mhnn-!!” Choso bit his tongue as he came one more time making a mess of his sheets. A smile creeped on his face at the feeling of yn’s hot semen coat his warm mushy walls in white.

They were both catching their breaths and yn sat up and slick his hair back looking at the art he ..

“……I…I’m sorry, cho’…” He pulled out and turned Choso on his back who just looked at him. Choso had drool and tear stains on his face, his lips red from biting them.

“I’m…so sorry..” The regret sitting in the pit of yn’s stomach. It quickly left when Choso pulled him down by his neck into a warm embrace.

“..’m your stupid toy…” Choso whispered smiling to himself. He didn’t regret this.

Yn sighed and returned the hug.

“..sure”

a/n ; I’ve always hated anything like step cest or inc*st it’s yuck but idk Choso being so big brother n shi kinda possessed me into writing this sorry xx

#jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #choso x male reader #dom top reader #top male reader #jjk choso #dark content #sub choso #smut #jjk #tw stepcest #tumblr writers #deeznutz

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boldlyvoid · 4 months

Text

Neighbourhood Beauty

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope is hosting Christmas at her apartment this year, she invites everyone... Including her new neighbour, who is exactly Spencer's type.

Warnings: flirting, love at first sight, kissing, making out, teasing, drunk bau friends, food mentions, Baker!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

She was sad the whole journey home from work knowing that Christmas was tomorrow and she was going to be alone. As she gets into her apartment complex, she runs into her neighbour at the mailbox. She’s got 3 packages in her hands while trying to figure out how to carry the last two, “do you want help?”

“Oh, please?” She sounds so relieved. “What a blessing it is to see you today.”

She smiles for the first time in a few hours, “Oh, anytime Penelope. Are these all gifts?” She asks as she takes the two packages in her hands. She’ll come down for her own mail later. Nothing interesting should be in there.

Penelope nods, leading them towards the elevators. “I’m having a big holiday gathering tomorrow— wait, do you have plans, are you going home to see family?”

“No,” she admits, sadly. “I couldn’t get a plane ticket, I tried but they’re so insanely expensive lately.”

“Yeah, I know,” Penny sighs. “I haven’t gone out to see my brothers in years, they’re in California.”

“It sucks… but you have lots of friends here, right? I’m sure they’re coming over tomorrow?” She asks, mostly so she can feel some sort of comfort if she isn’t doing anything tomorrow either.

“I’m having Christmas here for the first time,” she shares. “Dinner starts at 6:30 but we’re having a little bit of everything for lunch around 2, if you want to stop by at any time?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t—

“You can, and you will!” Penelope insists. “You don’t need to worry about gifts or bringing any food, just show up. I hate the thought of you being alone next door.”

“Okay, I’ll come,” she gives in with a smile. “But I’m bringing a baked good… have you ever been to my bakery?”

“You own the bakery?” She’s so flabbergasted. “I thought you just worked there?”

She smiles, “I do… we do okay but I’m by no means rich enough to buy a plane ticket home.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing cause now I can eat whatever you bring tomorrow!”

—

She spends the whole night baking. She makes molasses cookies with powdered sugar on them in shakes of little Christmas trees and she makes chocolate croissants. One of which she brings to Penelope around 10 am so that she can have a nice breakfast before the party starts.

She showers, picks a cute outfit and by 3pm she’s anxiously waiting by the door trying to hype herself up to go over. She only knows Penelope. They’ve lived beside each other for 3 years now. She’s seen her friends coming and going and heard them talking in the halls but she’s never talked to them. But if they like Penelope, they’ve gotta like her too.

So she bucks up and heads over.

She knocks and within seconds, a handsome man is throwing the door open. “You don’t have to— oh, hi?”

“Hi… Penelope invited me? I’m her neighbour… Y/N,” she awkwardly introduces herself.

He’s at a loss for words— and breath, for a moment and then shakes himself out of it. “Spencer… Reid. Doctor… Doctor Spencer Reid.”

It makes her laugh, easing the anxiety out of her system. “Can I come in, Doctor Spencer Reid?”

“Yeah, yes, come in,” he steps out of the way and extends his arm into the room for her to follow. He closes the door after she’s inside and smiles. “How do you know Penelope?”

“I live next door.”

“Really?” He can’t believe it. “How long?”

“3 years now…”

“And you’ve never come over?” He looks offended.

She smiles, “Why, sad you haven’t known me longer?” She manages to tease him. She’s not always good at reading people but something about how he’s acting makes her think he likes her.

He blushes but nods, “Well, welcome. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” she looks him up and down. He’s very handsome. And a doctor… “how do you know Penelope?”

“We’ve worked together since I was 22…”

“And you’re now…?”

“42,” he presses his lips together, awkwardly. “Old…”

“No, no you’re not, I would’ve guessed 35 at the most,” she teases, stepping into his space, she places her hand on his arm. “You’re a very handsome 42.”

“Are you doing anything for New Years?” He asks, removing all his fear and looking at her with hopeful eyes.

She shakes her head, “no… I might be working but I can leave early, or you can come see me there?”

“Where do you work?”

“I own the bakery on 16th Avenue,” she smiles. “Penelope buys in donuts and things from me all the time, actually, I brought over baked goods this morning, they’re in the kitchen somewhere.”

“Did you make those croissants?” He lights right up.

She nods, “maybe I can teach you how to make some?”

“I’d really like th—

“Y/N!” Penelope comes running from the kitchen and wraps her arms around her, “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” she laughs. “Spencer’s been keeping me company.”

“Ahh,” she pulls away with a smile. “Well, come eat, there’s lots of snacks in here.”

She leads them into the kitchen where her other friends are around the table. “The ones with kids will be around later, they’re still putting batteries and things in their kid's gifts. But this is Rossi and Emily and Tara.”

She reaches out to shake everyone's hand, realizing only now that she never shook Spencer's, but he doesn’t mind, he stays close to her. They sit side by side, he passes her things from the table that she wants to put on her plate and he gets up to get her a drink and everyone makes conversation while also watching him dote on her. It’s been 20 minutes but there’s something there… no man has shown her this level of interest or flattery before and not to quote Lana Del Rey but, when you know you know.

They’re friendly as ever when there are people around them and they flirt like mad when they’re alone. She already has a date with him, but he’s just too cute and that shade of red he turns is starting to become her favourite colour.

“You seriously used all the ice?” Penelope chastises Emily, who pretends she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Go get some more, we have guests coming who don’t drink alcohol they need ice for their sodas!”

“I am far too drunk to walk down the street,” she counters and points to Dave.

“Not me,” Dave touches his nose, he doesn’t volunteer to do anything and Tara does the same thing, she’s just as drunk as Emily.

Spencer goes to get his coat with a sigh, “I’ve got it.”

“I’ll come too,” she rushes to the door with him, putting on whatever coat fits her so that she can follow him down to the street for some extra alone time with him.

She reaches for his hand on the street, “So, what’s it like at the FBI?”

He holds her hand gladly, “it's… okay. I just teach now. Fieldwork put me in the hospital too many times and I like being alive.”

“I’m glad you’re still here,” she bumps shoulders with him.

His smile is beautiful. “So, about that date?”

“We could do anything you want,” she assures. “But my offer still stands.”

“I think I’d like a baking lesson,” he nudges her back. “It's the one thing I’m not good at.”

“So what are you good at?”

“Rambling, falling over, getting shot,” he teases but she swats his arm, leaning into him with a laugh. “Okay, but seriously, I have a Ph.D. in Chemistry, Engineering and Math.”

“Well luckily for you, baking is just science and a bit of math,” she teases. “You’ll catch on quickly, smarty pants.”

He pulls her in, chest to chest, standing beside an empty store with all their lights off. He cups her face, “what’s sweeter? Your chocolate croissants or your kiss?”

She can’t help but laugh, “you’ll have to tell me…”

He pulls her in for a kiss and sparks fly behind her eyes. As if every atom in her being is on fire, she melts into him. Kissing him deeply, she holds his sides and the hand he has on her cheek goes into her hair as they begin to make out on the snow-covered street.

She pulls back first, smiling softly, “so?”

“You, it’s definitely you,” he teases. “But the croissants are a very close second.”

She laughs, “Well, keep up the compliments and there will be lots more kisses and sweet treats coming your way.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the neighbourhood,” he teases, leaning in for another kiss but she stops him.

“Just the neighbourhood?”

“The whole world,” he corrects, which is the right answer. She lets him lean in closer, stealing another kiss.

She kisses him again and again, trying to pull back but he kisses her a third time, making her laugh. “We need to get that ice, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

“do you want to hang out after dinner?” He asks, “I can walk you home?”

“And stay for more kisses?”

“Or croissants,” he shrugs. Happy with either.

—

They’re pretty normal for the rest of the party, she meets the rest of his friends and all their kids. And they’re some cute kids. The youngest is his friend Matt's 2-year-old, she sits at the grown-up table with them and eats one of the chocolate croissants with the biggest smile on her face. Y/N can’t help but think about how much her own kids might like her baking one day… and Spencer sees the way she looks at the baby too.

His friends are so lively, the the party goes on until well after midnight. The friends with kids head out early, Emily and Tara get a cab home, Dave is passed out on her couch and Spencer isn’t going to leave until she does. And she’s helping Penelope clean up.

“You don’t have to stay,” Penelope assures her, drying off dishes while Spencer washes them. She’s been putting things in Tupperware containers and organizing the fridge.

“I want to help, as a thank you,” she smiles at her. “This has been a lovely night.”

“And not just because I introduced you to your new boyfriend?” She teases and Spencer drops a plate.

She laughs, walking over to place her hand on Spencers arm, “I mean, meeting Spencer is the best present you could’ve given me.”

Penelope swoons, “Okay that’s it, love birds. Get out of my kitchen, go home, go canoodle and get to know each other. I knew this was going to happen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me in advance?” Spencer whines as he dries off his hands. “I would’ve worn something nicer?”

“You look cute,” she teases.

“See, that’s why,” Penelope points at her. “I knew she’d like you for you, she’s a baker and you love everything I buy from her bakery and she’s so kind and you need someone to love you the way I know you love people back. This is perfect.”

She wraps her arm around his waist and leans into his space, “thank you penny, we’re going to go now.”

“Thank you,” Spencer agrees, following her out of the kitchen and towards the door.

Once they’re in the hallway, he asks, “Did you really mean that?”

She nods, “of course?”

He lunges for her, kissing her with her back pressed up against her apartment door. She reaches for the doorknob, twisting it open so that she can bring them inside and push him up against the closed door instead this time. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, and he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips.

“Couch?” She pants against his lips, wanting to lay down with him.

“Show me?” He agrees, following her into her apartment and to the living space.

She pushes him down against the couch and climbs on top of him. He wraps his arms around her, cradling her body like she’s the most delicate thing in the world. He kisses her just as soft and she moves her kiss to his cheek and his jaw up towards his ear, “you’re so handsome,” she whispers.

“Thank you,” he gasps. “You’re absolutely stunning, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smirks against him, kissing down his neck, “You deserve good things, Spence.”

“You’re too good to me,” he teases, hand slipping down to her ass. “How far are we taking this?”

She hums, “I’m good just talking and kissing all night?”

“All night?”

She nods as she pulls back to look at him. “I kinda don’t want to let you go. I’m afraid you’re too good to be real.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures. “I’m yours as long as you want me.”

General Taglist

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#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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itsjusthockey · 5 months

Text

December - Adam Fantilli

Officially in Adam era. Enjoy

I miss him at Michigan

w.c: 1,923 (credit to gif maker)(don't steal my work)

You learned quickly that December is a lot colder without him here. All the Christmas lights seem a little less bright, the hot chocolate tastes a little more bland, and the joys of the season are still there, just slightly muted.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was busy, so were you. College and hockey don’t stop, and the world will never cater to your relationship, no matter how much you wish it would sometimes. Instead, you both learned to figure it out. You FaceTime, call, and text as much as you can. Adam even suggested writing letters, but with his handwriting, you suggested something else.

You both send each other care packages, his typically filled with snacks you knew he’d love or books you insist he needs to read. Yours were always filled with new merchandise and one of his sweatshirts that still smelled like him. It is a good system, and you love how you make it work. But alas, Adam isn’t in Michigan, and you wish every night that he was.

A pound on your door jolts you out of your daze, and you check what time it is on your phone; it’s around 6:30, and you aren’t expecting anyone to your apartment. You’re confused when you look through the little peephole, but that all of a sudden disappears when your second favorite Fantilli is on the other side of the door. He’s not alone either, standing patiently with Rutger.

Each boy is clad in Michigan gear from head to toe, and Luca giggles about something when you open the door. The boys turn to you with the wildest smile that immediately makes you suspicious.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” You ask, narrowing your eyes a bit.

The boys dramatically roll their eyes, and Rutger places his hand on his heart in mock betrayal.

“Are we not allowed to visit our favorite person ever?”

You roll your eyes at Rutger and shift in the doorway, opening space for them. With bright smiles, they shuffle in, dropping their bags and immediately making themselves comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, Rutger opens your fridge and grabs out Capri Sun.

“I love this, don’t get me wrong, but why’re you here? I know you’ve both had a busy day.”

The pair grow quiet, and Rutger looks toward Luca to lead.

“Adam said you were a bit sad today.” Luca pipes up. “And we’re good at making you happy.

A small part of you feels terrible; it’s not their job to check on you, but most of you want to cry happy tears. You love these boys, and it means a lot that they still care about you, even when Adam is gone.

“So, we’re taking you out. No arguments, go change.” Rutger says, shooing you to your bedroom.

You give in because, of course, you do. It has been a bit of a rough day, and it didn’t help that your boyfriend has only texted you a few times today, telling you about how busy his weekend is going to be and he might not be around much.

You pull on some of Adam’s old Michigan gear, and within a few minutes, you’re walking out of your apartment with the boys. They don’t tell you where they’re taking you, but you just follow, content with being with your friends.

“She actually said that to her face?” Luca asks in disbelief.

You are telling the boys about some friend drama when you reach your destination. It’s a cute little pasta place close to campus, and It is one of your favorite spots. Adam took you here a lot in the last year, and you haven’t been able to go as often now that he’s been gone.

You smile as you follow Luca in, Rutger trailing behind you as you continue telling your story. Soon enough, you’re seated in a booth, food ordered, and you’re listening to them tell you about their own lives, hockey, and whatever the hell else.

You’re soaking up every minute with them, and you realize as you’re talking that you miss being around them. You miss the jokes, the laughs, the chaos, and you know that you have to get out of this little funk. They’re still your best friends, and you have to start seeing them more.

The pasta comes, and you dive in. It tastes like heaven, and you’re transported back to all the times you’ve eaten this meal with Adam. Your heart twinges slightly, but you shove the emotion down and continue laughing with the boys.

“So what’d you get A for Christmas?” Luce asks, mouth full of pasta. “Promise I won’t tell.”

You shrug your shoulders a bit. “A couple of little things. But I was thinking about visiting him, but I’m not sure he has time.”

You looked into it a bunch, but every weekend before Christmas was jam-packed in both of your schedules.

“You guys will figure it out.” Luca hums.

“Yeah, besides, he hasn’t seen you in a while, and I bet all he wants is to unwrap you like a pres-“

“Gross Rut,” Luca interrupts him, and you both laugh at his disgusted face.

The rest of the meal goes by, and at the end of it, you’re feeling much better about life. You’re super happy with this reunion, and you want it to continue, but Luca's phone buzzes on the table, and he gives Rutger a look.

“Ready to go?” Rutger asks, and you nod, heading back outside into the Michigan cold.

It’s a beautiful night, and when you step out, you see that light snow has started to fall. It looks picturesque as you stare at the snow and the decorations for the season. You feel your heart swell, then get slightly sad again, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect out.” You whisper to the pair, and they nod. “Are you guys going to come back up? Watch a movie or something?”

The pair share a quick look, and Rutger shakes his head.

“We can’t, we gotta head back.”

You’re a bit disappointed, but you don’t show it. They both have lives, and you can’t expect them to stay forever just because you’re a little lonely.

“All good, this was so nice. Thanks, you guys.”

Both the boys smile at you, and you walk back to your apartment. It’s still snowing, and when you reach the building, they stop at the entrance.

“Are you good to go back up yourself? My mom’s calling me.” Luca says quickly.

You nod your head, say a quick goodbye, and watch as the boys walk briskly away. You’re a bit confused, but you wave anyway as they speed off.

You make your way to the elevator, and you feel good as you climb the floors. You’re happy you got to spend time with some of your favorite boys, even if it was just for a while.

When you step out of the elevator and round the hall to your place, you smell a Christmas candle, and a wave of nostalgia hits you. It’s your favorite Christmas scent, and you almost want to cry. However, you don’t because as you come to your door, you realize the smell is wafting from your apartment.

You’re so completely lost, but when you unlock the door, everything falls into place.

There he is, standing in the center of your apartment wearing a cozy ugly Christmas sweater you’d bought him and smiling as though he’s the happiest man in the world.

You freeze, taking in the decorated apartment. You see a small little Christmas tree with a few presents, lights that line the space, and your favorite fucking candle lit on your dining table.

You drop your keys to the floor, and tears flow as he crosses the room to meet you. When he envelops you in his arms, you cry even harder, knowing that this is probably the happiest moment you’ve had in a long time.

“Hey baby,” Adam says into your hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You release him just enough to see his face. His beard has grown back, his eyes are a little glossy, too, and his smile is one of the brightest you’ve ever seen.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, wiping a tear from your face.

You pull back even further and give him a slight glare. “Yes, you asshole.”

You pull him back in, but this time, you pull him down slightly to meet his lips for the first time. In a simple moment, it’s like a world of color appears again before your closed eyes. Almost every thought in your brain is stripped out and replaced with him. He’s here. Really here. He’s here pressing his lips to yours and pulling you closer. He’s cupping your face, running his hand up and down your back and into your hair. He tastes familiar, and everything about him makes you feel complete. You finally feel whole again within his arms.

When you finally convince yourself to pull away, you meet his eyes again. You want to tell him you love him, but instead, your brain fails to string any thoughts together. So you simply pull him back to you and hope your kiss will show him those three words.

———————-

The night goes by slowly, and you couldn’t be more thankful. You spend hours talking, laughing, and staying cuddled on your couch. Only removing yourself when it gets late enough and you can barely keep your eyes open. You eventually make it to your bed, and everything is right as you lay against Adam’s chest, listening to his heart steadily beating.

“So Luca and Rut were your pawns?” You ask Adam, tracing little shapes on his chest.

He lets out a small laugh, and it's music to your ears.

“I mentioned I needed help surprising you, and the team had to draw names to see who would be the distraction.”

You smile at the thought and cuddle even closer to him.

“I missed you.” You say after a minute.

You grin as he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you gently on the head.

“I know,” he says. “But this doesn’t last forever. It’s just tough right now.”

You nod, agreeing with him. Right now, it sucks, but soon enough, you’ll be done with school, and he’s already out there making a name for himself. You know he knows how proud you are of him, and you support his dreams, even if it means you have to spend a couple of years like this.

You have your own life and your own dreams to keep you busy. But even then, you crave being with one another, and a piece you is always missing when he isn’t around you. But you do it anyway. You love him, and it’s these little moments that remind you why you put yourself through the pain. When he’s with you, when you’re together, everything is aligned, and it's nothing but perfection.

Yeah, December might be much colder when he isn’t with you, but when he is, it’s like you’re on fire. The only feeling you have is endless warmth.

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sugarypinecones · 5 months

Text

Sleepover - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

a/n: first time writing on this acc!! this kind of came to me in a dream <3 sorry if it sucks btw i got kinda lazy towards the end!

warnings: age gap (mike is 25 reader is FRESHLY 18), smut, pervy!mike if you squint enough, overstim, p in v, fem receiving oral, size kink if u squint, innocent reader, mike terrorizes the poor teddy bear 😞, they’re coworkers & i tweaked the job info a little bit

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

It started innocently enough. You, needing a job, as you had just freshly turned 18 decided that the night shift would be the easiest route, since you could do your college classes online while working, since it’s not often there’s trouble involving a pizzeria.. or you’d hope, at least.

You weren’t aware it’d be an every-night thing, but you were aware you had a coworker which did ease your nerves. The minute you met him, he was instantly awkward around you, and in such a cute way that you had developed a crush almost immediately.

And, because you had been in such close proximity for two weeks straight, you two had clearly became friends as there’s nobody else to talk to, and your schoolwork gets done fast when you know once you’re done you can finally talk to him.

How the job worked, was that there were four nightguards, and you’d switch off every two weeks for a paid leave, which is what made the job initially seem so appealing to you.

And now it was your final night, and you’d be off for two weeks, which would seem exciting, but you weren’t. You’d grown so close with Mike over the last two weeks that, you simply couldn’t imagine being gone from him for two weeks. You weren’t sure if he even considered you a friend, but it didn’t hurt to try, right?

“Mike?” You spoke up from your chair, and he turned from his phone, looking at you as you softly smiled. “I’ve really enjoyed these past two weeks, you know..” You trail off, looking at him to see his reaction, making sure you weren’t ruining anything. “Me too. It’s nice not to be so alone,” He smiled, about to turn back to his phone but you begun to speak up, “So.. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come back to my house sometime within these two weeks we’re off?” You smiled hopefully, anxious.

He didn’t reply for a second, looking at you, his gaze locking into yours before he smiled, looking away. “Why not? I’ll just have to find a babysitter for Abby,” He smiled, and you almost let out a sigh because of how hard you held your breath. “Cool,” You smile, looking to the floor, “Just text me when you wanna come over.” You clarify, looking at your phone as he hums, letting you know he heard you.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ

Which leads him to knock on your doorstep, swallowing dryly as he looks around. It felt wrong to be here, seeing as the differences in ages, but it’s not like it was his idea - and you’re just so nice to him, so it’s not like he could decline it - that’d be rude! You come to the door, adorned with the skimpiest tank top he’d ever seen and shorts, Mike freezing in fear like if he moved you’d vanish. “Hey, Schmidt.” You smile, hugging him, causing him to thaw whatever that was and hug you back.

“Woah, it’s um..” He trails off, looking around your house. “Weirdly exactly how I imagined it.” He laughs, and you turn and tilt your head down, leading him to your room - in which he sat down on your bed, you laying down next to him and smiling. “So what do you wanna do?” You smile, and he knew if he told you the truth of everything he wanted to do to you, it could kill a pilgrim.

“Uh, I don’t know..” He trails off as you glance up at him, smiling softly. “Anything you wanna do, really.” He smiles back, and you quickly sit up. “Well,” You get close to his face, scrunching your nose. “We could watch a movie, or..” You trail off, beginning to think about it. “That’s fine by me, what do you wanna watch?” Mike smiled, and you shrug, “Why don’t you choose,” You return the smile, leaning over to grab the remote, in which he got a perfect glance of your ass, and as much as he wanted to respect you and look away - he couldn’t, and his eyes are directly glued to it before you look back at him, tossing him the remote.

He put on a random movie and leaned back next to you, and you subconsciously move closer, cuddling into his warm body. He didn’t know if you were trying to send him signals, or just genuinely trying to cuddle, innocently. You look up at him, smiling, and he really is torn between the two. He smiles down at you, and you glanced at his lips, suddenly feeling his breath against yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” He whispered, and you nodded, a hand in his hair as he kisses you, pulling him down further needy for more.

He laughed against your lips, and you get on top of him, subconsciously grinding against him as your lips press against eachothers, Mike pulling away momentarily as he grabs at your hips, looking you in the eye as you breathlessly stare at him, “What’s this feeling?” You whisper, genuinely confused and honestly, starstruck.

You had been very sheltered growing up, and had grown up quite religious - and as much as you tried to rebel from it, you were honestly a goody two shoes, until you turned eighteen. You immediately moved away and indulged yourself in everything you couldn’t when you were growing up under your parent’s roof. You knew what a crush was, and you certainly knew you got odd feelings sometimes, but you were sheltered, you didn’t know anything about stuff like that.

“Oh, baby,” He coos, moving you back next to him, “I forgot,” He whispered, brushing hair out of your face. You had told him about it once, while you were bored in the office together. He found it interesting, and offered to teach you if you were ever curious, (clearly trying to be slick about his moves, but you didn’t know that.) He smiled, kissing you. “You’re turned on.” He smiles, and you seem confused, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Do you want me to make it feel better?” He asked you, and you immediately nod, the heat between your legs unbearable as he sat next to you.

He smiles as he kisses you, his hands reaching down to your shorts. “Is this okay?” He whispered, looking up at you. You nod, biting your lip as his eyes lock on yours. “Words.” He clarified, and you exhaled breathlessly, “Please,” Looking down on him, and that was all he needed to pull down your shorts and underwear, resting at your knees as he grazes his fingers against your wet folds, smiling to himself as you whine lowly, pleasure taking over without his fingers even inside you yet.

Slowly, he inserted one finger, looking at you as you bite your lip, looking to the ceiling as he pumped it in and out of you, watching as you moan softly and grab at the bedsheets, Mike leaning you back against pillows as he works his way up to two fingers, your legs subconsciously closing as you approach your high fast, and he just uses his other hand to pry them open, grinding subconsciously himself against your bedsheet, finding pleasure just by pleasuring you.

You reach your high, crying out in pleasure and closing your legs as he smiles, putting his lips against yours before entering his fingers into your mouth, in which you suck, without even being asked to do so, your juices coating your mouth as he kissed you again, inserting his tongue into your mouth, tasting your juices too.

“Mike,” you whisper against his mouth as you part, and he opens his eyes, looking at you as you smile softly, “Thank you.” You smile, and he could fuck you right now, but he doesn’t because he knows how sensitive and unready you are, just smiles back, nodding. “I want to make you feel good.” You smiled, and his eyes widen. “Baby,” He started, a hand cupping your cheek, “You’re not ready yet,” He shook his head, and you bite your lip. “So teach me how.” You whisper, and Mike folded immediately, kissing you softly.

He lowers himself back down to your dripping pussy, smiling as he licks a stripe against it, you bucking your hips up due to both pleasure and sensitivity from your recent high. He begins to suck on your sensitive cunt, you crying out in pleasure as you grab onto his hair, causing Mike to go faster, grabbing at your thighs as he eats you out like he’s been starved for years.

It didn’t take you long to reach your second high, moaning loudly as you close your legs, trembling as he wiped his chin, looking up at you. “Mike,” You mumbled, and he shook his head. “Not yet, darling,” He coos again, crawling up next to you as he kisses your neck softly, “And frankly, I think you need a break.” He suggests, but you quickly shake your head, “No!” You almost shout, looking at him as he widened his eyes in shock. “Please.” You soften, and he can’t help but crumble to those eyes you’ve given him.

“Where’s your favorite teddy?” He smiled, and you looked around, grabbing the one above you. He sat it in-front of your dripping cunt, smiling. “If you can prove to me that you can ride this and reach your high without my help,” He smiled, “I’ll consider your request.” He kisses you, helping position you onto the bear. He knew he wouldn’t fuck you today, but he could at least help you a little bit more.

You slowly move yourself back and forth on it, your underwear at your ankles now as you rock against it, your juices soaking the poor bear as Mike pulls down his pants, taking out his cock and beginning to stroke it as he watched you pleasure yourself, moaning in unison with you as you put your hands infront of you, continuing to ride the teddybear as he sped up his process, coming closer to his high and pulling you and the bear closer, pumping himself faster as he finally came, his come leaking all over the bear as you rid yourself into it, and he couldn’t help himself from placing a kiss on your belly.

You slowed down, clearly reaching your high now too, and that’s when he took over, “Fuck it,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to hold himself back as he lifts you off the soaked bear, you letting out a soft moan as you’re pulled away from your high so abruptly, and laid on your back against more pillows, opening your eyes as Mike leaned down, placing a kiss against your lips before moving to your swollen pussy, placing another kiss against it as he pumped himself once more, aligning himself with your entrance.

And with that, he’s inside of you, and you moan out loudly as he sees the imprint in your stomach, holding back from going feral as he slowly fucks you, your walls clenching around him as you’re reaching that high you were denied just seconds ago, moaning out nonstop to a point where you put a hand over your mouth and close your eyes as your nails dig into his back, egging him on further.

He grabs your hand, removing it from your mouth as he smiled, “I wanna hear all those pretty noises,” He whispered breathlessly as he pins both wrists above your head now, sliding in and out of you with more speed as he whines, your legs closing around him as you came, but he continued to fuck you through it, biting your shirt and lifting it as he begins to suck on your boobs, you moaning in both pain and pleasure as he continued to fuck you.

Within seconds, he’s coming too - and collapsing next to you as he pulled you in on top of him, the once pristine silk bedsheets covered in both of your fluids now as he brings you in for a kiss, you hugging him as your entire lower body is still shaking.

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you #fnaf x you #fnaf smut #fnaf imagine #mike schmidt imagine #mike smut #mike imagine #pervy!mike schmidt smut #perv! mike schmidt smut #perv!mike schmidt #pervy!mike schmidt #pervy!mike schmidt imagine #perv!mike schmidt imagine #smut

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theminecraftbee · 8 months

Text

Jimmy notices Scott sitting near the edge of the Ace Race launch. They’re both on the practice server; it’s a good place to hang out. Gets away from the kinds of lives they live elsewhere, even if Jimmy figures the one he’s got right now is good enough. Scott’s here a lot, Jimmy’s found; it’s probably some combination of whatever the weird messenger thing he has going on with Noxite is and the number of other lives he’s lived. Jimmy bets it’s just quieter here than, like, he doesn’t know, he’s heard something about pirates?

Anyway, he’s always down to say hi to Scott. Also, Scott looks—strange. Diminished feels rude. Not preening like a peacock? No weird ethereal glow? It can’t be that the romance has worn off, it never really did, not all the way, Jimmy’s always seen him as sort of made of lace and marble and beautiful things from the beginning and even now that they’re like, friends friends, it’s just—

Jimmy plants himself in the grass. He can’t find a poppy, but he can find a dandelion. Close enough?

“Flower for your thoughts?” he says cheerfully.

Scott looks up. He laughs. “You can’t be doing that, Jimmy. We’ll get double-married. I already have too many husbands, you can’t be on there twice.”

“I think I can marry my flower husband as many times as I want,” Jimmy says.

“We barely even do a romance anymore.”

“Well, excuse you for not being a romantic.”

“Me? I’m not the romantic? Me?” Scott says incredulously.

“Well I don’t know how it would be me,” Jimmy says imperiously. He pauses, huffs, and sits down next to Scott. “I mean, we can do romance if you want. Hadn’t done that the last few lives because, you know, work better as friends right now, but I can totally wow you. I can, uh. Uh. Make… chocolate? No, I can’t do that, actually, don’t hold me to that—”

Jimmy pauses.

“Scott,” he says.

“No, keep going,” Scott says weakly.

“Have I done something wrong?” Jimmy asks.

“No, no, it’s just—sort of being a messenger god, I get a feel for things, and—it’s gonna happen again soon, Jimmy.”

“Oh, okay,” Jimmy says. They both know what they’re talking about. “I’m absolutely gonna win this time, just so you know.” He says it with all the false bravado of a person who’s mostly just hoping he doesn’t die first again. This time, this time, this time. He’ll do it by his own merits, though; he’s not sure what he would have done if Joel had actually gone through with the halting plan to die for him that he’d told Jimmy about last time. Probably crowed on happily about it, honestly, but with needles in his stomach the whole time.

Scott hasn’t responded yet.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re way too good at this. Constant finalist, now that you don’t have me weighing you down,” Jimmy tries.

“I shouldn’t talk about this with you,” Scott says.

“Rude,” Jimmy says. “We’re husbands at least twice over.”

“Yeah, but do you ever regret it? Don’t you—don’t you regret it?” Scott bursts out. “Don’t you ever wake up and—and you weren’t good enough to protect them and you’re not good enough to be loyal to and frankly you aren’t good enough to follow the rules either and, and so you’re just constantly winning. And you aren’t trying and you just think, if you’d just—if you’d just fucking slowed down, figured out how to protect—this is stupid. I’m proud of Martyn. Got him to win, at least. I can’t regret him winning. I wouldn’t have wanted anything else. I never have. Forget I said anything.”

Jimmy stares.

“I don’t regret it,” he says, and he’s surprised to realize he’s telling the truth.

“Not even for all the mocking?” Scott says.

“I mean. Wouldn’t have teamed with Grian and Joel if…”

“Oh,” Scott says. He stares out over the practice server. Jimmy cannot guess what’s going on in his head. No matter how many lives they’re friends, husbands, lovers both star-crossed and casual, enemies, and friends again in, Jimmy has to admit, Scott’s kind of a closed book. It’s one of the character flaws he has to make up for being perfect at everything else.

It’s part of what makes him Scott.

“I don’t regret it,” Jimmy says, almost more urgently.

“Oh,” Scott says again. “I do.”

Jimmy’s not sure what to say to that.

He’s never been good enough at winning much of anything to understand that kind of regret, is the thing. Blessing, curse, whatever else, he just…

“Sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow. Not normally the kind of person for this stuff,” Scott says. “It’s not that I’m not confident, it’s just…”

That, though. That, Jimmy can understand.

He scoots closer to Scott.

“Let’s race. I’ll totally beat you so badly. I was watching CPK do skips. And, I don’t know about you, but…”

“Yeah, you’ll hit those in your dreams,” Scott says. Neither of them move to stand up, though. They remain sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, watching other participants jump off the launch. It’s nice here. Quiet. A place apart from all the lives they live. Jimmy wonders if that’s why Scott’s here so much. Jimmy might have to show up too; that’s what increasingly old friends are for, he figures.

#limited life smp #<- tagged as such for being the most recent #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #a bee fic #idk man I just wanted to write scott being a little insecure I can’t sleep and have been having fh feelings lately #for whatever else I think Jimmy doesn’t ever regret TRYING even given that it never works out #be it relationships or bad plans or the life series #scott though—it works out for him and he’ll always wonder.#flower husbands

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mellifiedprincess · 7 months

Text

Hazel Callahan x reader

You stare across the field, looking up into the bleachers where Hazel sat, legs sprawled out. She was in the middle of a conversation with Pj and Josie, and even though she wasn’t doing anything particularly special, you couldn’t help but gush at how endearing she looked.

You were so in love with her, it was nauseating.

You’re brought back to focus, when you suddenly feel eyes on you, realizing you’ve been staring at Hazel this whole time. She’s staring right back at you now, and you can’t help but smile. A blush coats your cheeks, as you raise a hand up and send her a small wave.

“Who are you looking at?” Pj asks Hazel, before turning to the field, where she sees you with the rest of the cheerleaders. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen Hazel.”

“Just like you and Brittany are never gonna happen?” Hazel retorts back while rolling her pretty blue eyes.

Hazel already thought you were way out of her league, no matter how confident she was with herself, she still didn’t believe she was good enough for you. You were the sun in her sky and you didn’t even know it.

“Holy shit! Wait- you have to talk to her.” Pj exclaims to Hazel, waving her hands frantically. “I talk to her all the time, Pj. We’re friends.”

“No, talk to her about joining the fight club. Then we can convince her to bring Brittany and Isabel, teach them to defend themselves, and next thing you know we’re making out with cheerleaders.” She pauses looking between Hazel and Josie for any sign of support.

“Have you ever thought that, i don’t know, maybe some people want more than sex? I actually have feelings for Isabel, and whether Hazel wants to admit it, she has actual feelings for Y/n.” Hazel looks over at Josie with a glare, knowing she was right about not wanting to admit her feelings. Because she knew if she did, there was a big chance of being rejected.

“Blah blah blah, you’re in love. Whatever. Come on Hazel, we’re like kind of your only friends. Do this for us?”

Hazel sat in silence for a moment, looking between you and Pj. She knew there was a big chance of this plan failing, and she would end up looking like an even bigger loser than she already was. But she also just really wanted any excuse to be close to you.

“Fine. I’ll do it!”

——

“Y/n, hey! Wait up.” When you hear your name being called from down the hallway, you immediately turn, meeting eyes with Hazel. “Hi Hazel.” You can feel the blush creep up onto your cheeks, as you send her a shy smile. For a moment, all Hazel can do is stare with her mouth slightly agape. Oh wow, she is too cute. Hazel thought to herself, before clearing her throat.

“So, uh, me, Pj, and Josie were talking and have decided to start a fight club.” Her words were a bit rushed and she could tell by the slight tilt of your head and arched brow, you were completely confused. “It’s really more of a way to help with the lack of female solidarity here at school. Teach girls how to defend themselves better.”

“Oh! That sounds really cool Hazel.” “Would you wanna maybe join? Maybe you could get some of your friends to join too!” You smile at that and nod your head yes. “I’d love to! I’ll bring Britt and Isabel too, they’d totally be into it.”

“Cool, so if you want, I could meet you at your locker and we could walk to the gym together?”

“Yeah, that would be really nice.” You back away slowly, before turning to head to your next class. If you would have looked back, you would have seen the lovesick smile Hazel wore.

——

Since then, you and Hazel have grown a lot closer. Not really sure what to call your situation though. Neither of you have made the move and asked the other out officially, but you definitely weren’t just friends. I mean, you don’t sit on the laps of your other friends any time you’re together. Or find yourself making out with them, when alone.

Point is, you were definitely in love with each other, just too scared to admit it.

And now, as you sit beside Hazel, her hand placed on your thigh, surrounded by the other girls. You can’t help but be even more scared that, with the news of the club ending, so would the relationship you’ve built with Hazel.

“Why do you look so sad, sweetheart?” You look up at Hazel when she breaks you from your worrying thoughts.

“I just don’t want this to end.”

“I’m sure everyone will still hangout. Just because the club is ending doesn’t mean we have to ignore each other.” Hazels words don’t do much reassuring for you.

“Haze, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to lose y-“ You were so close to admitting it, but Pj as usual had to ruin it.

“Guys! Stop jumping to conclusions with the goodbyes.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at her. “Pj, don’t be sad it’s over, be happy it happened.” Annie tries to be optimistic, but Pj isn’t having it. “Alright, can we just all calm the fuck down, please? The club isn’t even over yet.”

“No matter what this club has brought me so much. I feel so much more powerful, and, um, protected.” “Me too.” Josie agrees with Isabel, sending her a reassuring smile.

“Great.” Pj huffs out, and you watch Hazel stand up, not really sure what’s happening. “Oh my god, Pj! I’m sorry you didn’t really get what you wanted out of this club, but I think most of us did.” Your eyes slightly widen at the raise of Hazels voice, never hearing her this upset.

“Good for fucking you Hazel. I’m glad you finally wrote one fucking email. Accomplished a lot.” “I did, actually. I practically ran this club for you and Josie.” And that was true.

Hazel dedicated almost all of her free time to this club. A club that meant more to her than it did to Pj. “Okay, let’s calm down, maybe.”

“You really think that you’re the reason we have this club?”

“The reason? No, but I can tell everyone that if you want.” Hazel looks around at everyone, then back to Pj.

What exactly did she mean by that?

“You’re so ungrateful, Hazel. You’re lucky we even let you be a part of this club.” “Pj, you’re a liar.” At that you stand up and grab Hazels hand. “Hey, why don’t you take a walk? Try to calm down a little, clear your head.”

“Yeah well, you can’t even get the girl you’ve been dreaming of fucking to actually fuck you, so.” You immediately look up at Hazel, hearing the harsh admittance. “Leave her out of this Pj.”

“Why? Don’t want her realizing how much of a loser you truly are? You don’t even have any friends.” And that just made your blood boil, Hazel had so many friends.

You watch as Hazel grabs her bag and storms down the stairs and then out the gym. “She’s so fucking drama-“ Pjs words are cut off by your fist connecting to her nose. Sending the girl to her back on the floor. “Talk to her like that again, and it’s gonna be a lot worse next time.” You turn on your heel after that and march out in search of Hazel.

You soon find her looking out at the football field from the top of the bleachers, tears slowly streaming down her face. “Hey, want some company?” You ask softly. She sadly smiles at you and reaches out for your hand, before pulling you down into her lap. Her chin rests on your shoulder, and you can feel her relax a little.

It’s quiet for a little bit. Sounds of the wind blowing breaking it every now and then, but for the most part quiet. Until Hazel breaks it.

“I love you.” It was so softly spoken, you almost missed it. Almost.

“I love you too, Hazel.” You kiss her cheek and watch as she looks at you with confusion on her pretty face. “Wait, what?”

And you laugh. You laugh because how could she not know you felt the same way. She was the moon in your night, always shining bright no matter how dark it was outside.

“Is it so hard to believe that I love you back?”

“Kinda.” She shrugs her shoulders, a shy smile on her face.

“Hazel, I’ve liked you for the longest time. Way before the club started. I thought I was so obvious.”

“I just thought you were super nice all the time.” You both laugh at this. You were two idiots in love with each other and didn’t even know it. “So, does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?” She asks you hopefully. “Only if I can call you mine.” Hazel looks at you for a few seconds before taking your chin and pulling you closer.

“Deal.” She mumbles against your lips.

When you pull away, you sit in silence just trying to catch your breath. Finally at peace with your worried thoughts from earlier in the gym.

“Oh shit!” Your sudden outburst scares Hazel. “What baby?”

“I totally broke Pjs nose before chasing after you.” Your now girlfriend stares at you with wide eyes, before bursting into a fit of giggles, causing you to start laughing too.

“She deserved it.”

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel bottoms #hazel deserves all the kisses

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

Text

“I need your help to find Robin a girlfriend,” says Steve.

Eddie shuts the door in his face.

“You know I’m not gonna just leave, man!” Steve hollers through the door. “Come on, let me in, we gotta, like—strategize.”

“No!” Eddie yells back, loud as he can. “Fuck off!”

Gratifyingly, he hears Steve stumble a little. It’s not a thick door, and Steve must’ve been right up next to it.

“Don’t you want Robin to be happy?” says Steve, at a much more normal volume. “She thinks you guys are pretty close, you know.”

Now that’s just dirty pool. Sure, it turns out he and Robin get along pretty well; sure, they’ve been thick as thieves ever since Robin inquired in a rambling roundabout way if certain rumors were true, and Eddie allowed as to how they might be. So what? Not like it means Eddie has to let himself be suckered into whatever hare-brained scheme Harrington’s cooked up now.

He tells himself all of this, then sighs and opens the door anyway.

“Okay, Harrington, come in and explain so I can tell you why this is a bad idea in excruciating detail.”

Steve smirks all smug and insufferable, and pushes past Eddie to sprawl on the couch.

“So, you know how the Vickie thing ended, right?”

Eddie shrugs. He kind of does, but he’s pretty sure he missed some things. He’s never gotten the full run-down or anything like that, he’s just rubbed Robin’s back as she got spectacularly drunk about it and puked in a bush.

“Anyway, it’s been like three months, and Robin’s still moping. She’s gotta put herself out there again, like getting back on a horse.”

“Bet she loved you telling her that,” says Eddie.

“Exactly, so, we should team up and do some of the legwork before I bring it up again. Set her up for success. I’ve got the charm, and you’ve got…” Steve gestures vaguely in Eddie’s general direction.

“A killer music collection? Impeccable personal style? Terrible taste in friends?”

“No, man, you’re—I mean, you’re gay, right?” Steve looks suddenly uncertain. It’s not like it’s a secret, obviously, but they haven’t talked about it in so many words before.

“Yeah, more or less,” says Eddie. It’s not like he’s never ever seen the appeal of any woman, but—yeah, more or less. Close enough for government work.

Steve claps his hands together decisively, like some kind of dorky Little League coach. “Great! Great, that’s perfect. So I can help Robin with the whole flirting-with-girls thing, and you can handle the gay stuff.”

Eddie bats his eyelashes and grins like the compulsively self-sabotaging dumbass he is. “Well, usually I make pretty boys buy me a drink before I handle any of their gay stuff.”

Steve Harrington, the little shit, isn’t phased at all. “You saying I’m not pretty enough for you, Eddie?” he drawls, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

Eddie wonders if he can get away with lying down on the floor for a minute to recover. He probably can’t, so he just takes the psychic damage and swerves back to his main point.

“Look, Harrington, I think we should just let Buck find her own way. Be free, spread her wings, et cetera.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, uh-huh. If we do that, she’s gonna turn into some kind of weird hermit and never talk to another girl in her life. We’re on her team, right? We gotta get her confidence up so she can ride into the sunset with the babe of her dreams.”

Eddie drags his hands down his face, wishing desperately that Steve were just a tiny bit less…whatever this is, so his goddamn heart could maybe catch a break.

“I could really use a hand here, Eddie,” Steve says. He frowns a little, pressing his lips together and glancing away. “I know there’s stuff I don’t…I just don’t want to screw this up for Robin, okay? She deserves to be happy, but I need you to make sure I don’t do anything too dumb.”

“Think that one might be a lost cause,” says Eddie, but he collapses onto the couch with a resigned sigh. “Just—talk me through what you’ve got, okay?”

Steve lights up, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him a little, pulling him tight against Steve’s side. “Yes! Okay! Let’s do this!”

This is going to be a test of fortitude, but at least Eddie’s pretty sure it’ll all be over soon. How long can it possibly take to find a girlfriend for Robin Buckley?

#is this anything idk #I've been super busy but this just sort of spontaneously emerged; might be the start of a new fic fr? no promises #might fuck around and try to sell y'all on a rarepair for robin #(obviously this is also going to be steddie)#fic: somewhere sometime somehow

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yutaleks · 2 months

Text

true love comes from more than just the heart

yuuta x female reader, length: 1.5K CWs: yandere // reader has loose hair that can be tucked behind the ear // bruises A/N: This is a repost, lightly edited. banner by @/cafekitsune

Part of Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing series

Things with your project partner, Yuuta, have been awkward as of late. It’s been exactly three days, 5 hours, and 40 minutes since the moment he asked you if you wanted to go on a date and you’d let him down as easy as you could. You’d fed him some excuse about not wanting to date right now, not when you’re busy with classes and finals are approaching. But since then, he’s been missing from every group function, and every time your eyes meet in lecture hall it’s like looking at a kicked puppy. It’s eating at you from the inside out, and after said 3 days 5 hours and 40 minutes you can’t take the awkwardness anymore.

“Okkotsu-kun,” you sit down beside him in one of the libraries on campus. You weren’t sure if you’d find him here but somehow, every time you purposefully seek him out, he’s always within reach. “Can we talk?”

He has a laptop and a notebook open on the wooden table, which he promptly shuts as soon as you take a seat next to him. He tucks his arms under the table and looks at you with those very same soggy tired eyes of his. You wonder if he even sleeps at all.

“Sure. What do you need?” He tacks your name and the appropriate honorific on at the end, his voice dulcet and polite.

“I just… feel bad about what happened. We still have to work together on our project and besides that, I like talking to you… but it feels weird suddenly. I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well you didn’t show up for recitation or group study yesterday… bailed on our project meeting the day before that…” you’re wringing your hands on your lap, and Yuuta’s staring at them instead of looking at you. “Are you listening to me?”

“I just needed some time to myself,” he tries to offer you a soft smile but it comes out more like a wince.

“Aren’t we friends? We don’t have to cut ties just because of—”

“I dont want to cut ties at all.” His voice comes out a little harsher, colder than he’d wanted. In a lower, gentler voice he adds, “it’s because we’re just friends that I just… needed some time.”

“Yuuta-kun.” He looks back up at you directly, forced to by the fact that you’d used his first name and reached out for his hand. He feels his heart in his throat. “It’s not you, it’s just…”

How do you explain this to him, really? Because it is partially him—your best friend and roommate Nobara had drilled into your head that he’s bad news from day one. But in reality, to you, he’s something of a yellow flag, maybe even a pale green. Not red, not yet. Because there’s nothing really wrong with him at all. He’s just a little intense at times, when he’s not being nauseatingly polite and oozing with kindness and consideration. You don’t entirely see whatever darkness it is that Nobara sees in him.

When he perks up in his seat you imagine a dog with ears pointed up, turned at you. Cute.

“I guess I have really bad luck with guys and it’s been a bit nerve-wracking going about dating. I don’t think I’m ready for that again, not with you.”

“What do you mean bad luck?” He blinks, confused.

“Ever since university started, things have just been so strange…” you subconsciously try to pull your hands away, but Yuuta holds them close to his own. You feel a reassuring squeeze. “I’d get close to someone, they’d seem interested… maybe even flirt or meet for a date… but not long after that they’d just vanish and ghost me. Even as recently as a couple weeks ago, I’d been talking to a guy in civics who then stopped coming to class altogether… It’s happened enough times that I’ve just sworn off dating, you know? I guess it’s for the best—maybe the universe just wants me to focus on school, not on relationships with other people. It’s distracting, anyway.”

As you ramble, Yuuta’s thumb glides over your fingers, lulling you into a sense of comfort. It’s nice to talk about this with someone so patient, someone who isn’t as blunt as your roommate; she had blamed you for every person who would disappear soon after coming close to your orbit. You love her to death but coming to her with a hurt ego only makes the wound sting.

“It’s not you at all!” When he feels eyes on him, the other patrons of the library glaring at him for his outburst, he quiets his voice yet again. “You’re perfect. Anyone who doesn’t see that is wrong and doesn’t deserve you at all.”

You smile at the sureness and totality in his voice. He’s entirely convinced you could do no wrong, and it feels kind of nice to have someone in your corner for once.

You take one hand out of his grip to push back a lock of your hair and in the process manage to look down at your intertwined hands. To your surprise, his hands are bandaged at the knuckles. How had you not noticed that? And peeking from the corners of said bandages are bruises, faded hues of blue and purple. They aren’t fresh, but they look gnarly, the skin taut over his knuckles just about to burst at the seams.

“What happened to you, Okkotsu-kun?” You twist and turn his hands in yours, and he finds that he likes the attention from you—likes it so much he doesn’t dare pull away. His hands go limp in your palms, soaking up their warmth. “Did you have these the last time we spoke?”

“Um… I’ve been working out with a friend these last few weeks. Boxing.”

You laugh, a sigh of relief visibly making your tense shoulders sag. It’s with this that Yuuta realizes that you’re not the type to pry. You trust him.

“What made you take that up?” You release his hands, to his internal dismay. “Looks painful.”

He shrugs and tucks his hands back under the table, away from your line of vision. “Hmm… I don’t know. Just something to do, I guess.”

“I never took you as the type to do anything like that.”

He tilts his head. You watch one of the small hoops in his earlobe sway with the movement.

“Really? Why?”

“You’re just always so nice. You give off such a sweet vibe. Like you help grannies cross the street in your spare time, or some shit like that.”

You both share a chuckle, the first time you’d both smiled at each other since before he’d tried to ask you on a date. You find yourself stuck on the curve of his lips, pink and slightly chapped.

Why did you reject him again…?

The strand of hair that you’d tucked behind your ear falls forward again, and this time Yuuta is the one to tuck it back for you. It feels so natural for him to do it, that you stay still and let him.

“The Yuuta in your mind is such a gentleman, isn’t he?”

You giggle at his choice of words. Why’s he talking about himself like that? The look in his eyes is a little strange, but in your heart, you agree. He’s never given you a reason to believe otherwise.

“Yeah… he definitely is.”

“I’m glad.” He holds the end of the lock of your hair between his fingertips, curling your hair around his pointer finger. He inhales deeply—you smell like strawberries at this distance. It’s lovely.

He sighs. His breath sounds so heavy, diffusing the tension between you. “I’m sorry I made things awkward. I hope we can still be friends…”

Your smile is bright. Incorruptible. It’s so fucking pretty—always is.

He lets your hair fall out of his grasp.

“Of course, it’s why I came here. I want to be friends… As long as you want to be.”

He wants to say forever. He wants to tell you he never wants to be apart and never wants to see that smile fade. He even wants to tell you about all the fantasies he has in his head where you’re married and tucked away in a forest somewhere, to be each other’s gravity, the entirety of each other’s universes. But he swallows the words instead—that’s just a little too much for you, right now. Even he knows this. Yet somewhere in his mind, he’s certain he’ll be able to say everything he wants to say to you wholeheartedly soon.

He just has to be a little more patient…

“I do.”

#yan!yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #cw.yandere #writing tag

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ilwonuu · 3 months

Note

hi! can u req a joshua fluff (with smut haha) in which shua will surprise wife!y/n on her bday but y/n has bigger news (🤰).. thank u 🩷🩵

omg yes!! i love this idea sm!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST💖💖

▸ ִֶָ ⊹all for you. h. jisoo

summary- your husband wants to make your birthday the most memorable birthday you have ever had. he surprises you with a beautiful date night. but you have a bigger surprise;)

warnings- fluff with plot, smut with plot, lots of love (ew), pregnancy sex, unprotected sex, pet names(honey, my love, reader calls joshua shua a lot), dirty talk, oral fem receiving, breeding kink kinda???, creampie, lots and lots of affection, hoshi is mentioned a few times, happy marriage, lmk if i missed anything 😘

authors note- i made this way longer than i intended it to be bc i kinda got carried away. i hope there isn’t too many typos since i haven’t proof read it yet and stuff anyways thank you for reading<3

joshua always would go all out for your birthday. he would do anything he can do make sure you had the best day ever. you never had any worries about your birthday but this one was a little different. you had something important to talk to him about. it was that you guys are going to be parents. you know he will be happy with the news but there is a voice in the back of your head saying that this might ruin your birthday. you love your husband and he loves you but we’re you guys ready to have a baby?

you roll out of bed around 10 am seeing your husband is nowhere to be found in the bedroom. making your way to your bathroom to wash up. “shua?? where are you?” you yell loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom. “honey im in the kitchen! im making you breakfast in bed so go lay back down.” he says shouting back. you smile at his words complying with what he asked you to do. getting back into your shared comfy bed.

joshua comes into not to late after you do with a plate of pancakes, bacon,fruit, and your favorite coffee he makes for you. “happy birthday my beautiful wife. you deserve the world.” he says setting your food down on the table next to you bending down to pull you into a sweet kiss. “thank you shua. i really appreciate you.” you smile at him and grab your food. “and i love you so much. i have so many things planned for you today. you feeling up to it?” he asks sitting next to you on your bed. you nod eating your food. “i love you too.”

he kisses your cheek and steals a piece of your bacon. “can i have this?” he asks taking a bite. “shua you’re already eating it.” you laugh at him taking another bite of your pancakes. “i did good on this bacon. it tastes so good.” he smiles at you and kisses your face all over. “okay my love i was thinking we could go shopping a little bit and then we can come back and watch a movie then i can make you dinner. or we can go out to eat. whatever you would like honey.” he says giving sweet kisses against your neck. “mm that sounds so nice shua. you are too sweet to me.” you finish your food turning to pull him into a hug. “you deserve it beautiful. wanna go back to sleep for a little longer or should we start getting ready?” you get under the covers. “definitely more sleep.” you say pulling him to cuddle you. “of course honey. rest all you want we can get up when you want.” he say kissing you before closing his eyes nuzzling his face into your neck. you two both falling asleep tangled in eachothers arms.

—

you wake up a few hours later shifting slightly seeing a still asleep joshua. kissing his forehead slightly before heading to the bathroom. quickly peeing before coming back into your bed room. “mm honey are you ready to get up?” he says still with his eyes closed. “yes i am if you are shua.” he finally opens his eyes stretching slightly smiling at you. “okay honey we can shower real quick then we can leave to do your shopping.” you nod making your way to the bathroom with him slowly following behind you. shutting the door after you both. “come here my love.” he says pulling you into a hug kissing you softly. “you look so beautiful today honey. i can never get bored of looking at you.” he kisses down your jaw making his way down your neck. “mm shua that was cheesy.” you laugh moving your head a little so he can have a better angle. “you love it tho.” he lifts you to sit on the sink smiling at you while he pulls off his shirt. “you smell so good. i bet you’ll taste even better.” he smiles pecking your lips again. “can i?” he asks rubbing your thigh slightly. “hm can you what shua?” he laughs. “can i eat you out? i really want to make you feel good. then we can take a shower hm??” you nod slowly.

he smiles at you before kneeling in front on you slowly pulling your shorts and panties down in one quick movement. “my love you’re soaking. what have you been thinking about?” he looks up at you kissing your inner thighs. “y-you. i want you shua pl-“ he cuts you off by licking a long stripe up your slit humming against you. causing you hands to immediately go to his hair. “o-oh shua feels so good.” he smirks against you slowly inserting his tongue inside of you fucking it into you slightly. you tug on his hair slightly rougher this time throwing your head back in pleasure. “holy shit shua. p-please don’t stop.” and he doesn’t he continues his movements looking up at you through his eyelashes. slowly bringing his finger up to rub your clit. he is moaning into your pussy sending tingles down your spine. he is lost in eating you out. his face now having your arousal all over it.

his dick is now rock hard in his shorts as he watches your face change more and more with the pleasure he is giving you. “shua im gonna c-cum!” he continues watching you rubbing your clit faster feeling you clench around his tongue. you immediately release on his tongue moaning his name. he licks up all you cum before standing up and smiling at you. “i can never get enough of that my love. you taste amazing.” you still trying to catch your breath before moving to stand up. he pulls you into a sweet kiss. “see? you are so sweet.” he kisses your cheek. “lets shower hm?” he smiles before pulling both of your clothes off starting the water for the shower.

—

“shua i’m all ready to go!” you say making your way to your living room where he is waiting. he smiles at you. “you look beautiful honey. lets go.” he grabs your hand leading you guys out of the house and to his car.

the car ride to the mall was filled with you two singing the music that you wanted to play. “okay we have arrived!! lets go in.” he smiles getting out of your car making his way to your side to let you out. “my love.” he smiles grabbing your hand. “my shua.” you say laughing. “what store do you want to go in first?” he says as you two are hand and hand making your way into the mall.

—

what you didn’t know is that joshua had a surprise for you. he has asked the guys to help set up your house for the perfect movie and dinner night. and thats why he had you guys leave a little early to go shopping. joshua is somewhat nervous something will go wrong. causing him to be paranoid sending soonyoung a text.

joshua- are you guys almost done? y/n is getting tired of shopping she wants to come home soon.

soonyoung- yes! we have a few more things to do for your room like you asked and then we’ll be leaving.

joshua- oh thank god. thank you thank you. i appreciate you guys helping i owe you.

soonyoung- no problem. we love y/n she deserves a good day!!

joshua- love u😘

soonyoung- love u too 😨

soonyoung- tell me how she likes it!!!

“joshua? who are you texting?” you say smiling at him and his focused expression. “just soonyoung. him and the guys say happy birthday.” you make a sweet expression. “aw thats sweet. tell them i say thank you and that i love them.” “will do my love.” he smiles putting his phone away. “okay i’m thinking one more store then we can leave okay honey?” he says smiling before walking into another store with you.

—

soonyoung- we just finished! good luck bro tell me how it goes

“okay my love you ready to go?” you nod quickly. “please my feet hurt.” you say laughing as he puts you on his back running to the car. “joshua im heavy you better not drop me!” he laughs at you. “first of all you are nowhere near heavy and i would never drop my beautiful wife okay?” you roll your eyes at him. “you’re being so cheesy today.” he puts you down as you make it to the car. “once again i know you love it.” you scoff looking away from him. “okay maybe a little bit. but only a little!!” you say as he opens your car door for you. “come on my love lets get you home.” he says quickly starting the car to head back to your house.

you two arrive back noticing his mood changing slightly to a more nervous one. “you okay shua?” he smiles at you. “of course i just want you to have a good day.” “shua i am having the best day ever. you are treating me so well do not worry.” you rub his back. “i always worry because you deserve the best y/n.” “you are the best shua. you are the sweetest person i could ask for. you never have to worry you always make me feel so special.” you pull him into a kiss. “come on love lets go inside.” you say getting out the car following him into your house.

you walk into your home seeing all the rose pedals and candles lit. “joshua you didn’t have to do all this.” you look at him lovingly feeling him pull you in to hug him. “i know honey but like i said you deserve the best. i asked the guys to help with the decorations. do you like it?” he asks rubbing your back softly. “i love it joshie thank you.” he smiles. “okay my love have you decided if you wanna go out to dinner or have me cook?” “mm i don’t really feel like leaving again i would rather stay and have you cook for me if thats okay.” he kisses you sweetly. “of course my love. you hungry now or do you want to wait?” you think for a second. “i’m a little bit hungry now.” he nods kissing your forehead before making his way into the kitchen. “okay well you get comfortable i will start on dinner okay?” you nod smiling at him making your way to the couch.

you loved joshua. he is the best husband you could ever ask for. he was always this sweet. when you guys first started dating he was embarrassed about how much he would do for you. he would go out of his way to see you even when he barely had the time. joshua loved you and he had no doubt that he was gonna spend the rest of his life with you. when he asked you to marry him you were shocked but relieved that he felt the same way about how strong your love is. you had nothing to worry about with him. now you’re feeling a little uneasy. what if he isn’t ready to have kids with you? he knows that you guys have unprotected sex all the time. but sometimes he just doesn’t want to pull out. it was bound to happen right? how do you go about tell him? before dinner? after dinner? tomorrow? you’re all over the place. you took the pregnancy test just a couple of days ago. but last night you took another just to be sure and as they all said you were pregnant.

you turn on your tv pulling you away from your thoughts for a moment putting on a rom com for you and joshua to watch when he is done cooking. you get lost in the movie as you wait for the food to be done. “my love dinner is served.” he says bringing over a steak dinner he prepared. “shua it smells so good. thank you so much.” you smile at him as he sits down with his food next to you. “of course honey you know i’d do anything for you.” he kisses your forehead again before both of you begin to eat. you finish your food rather fast causing joshua to laugh. “you really were hungry hm my love.” he smiles finishing up his food shortly after. you nod moving closer to him.

“what do you want to do now my love? want to watch another movie? want a massage? i can make love to you. the choice is yours.” you shake your head. “actually um..i need to tell you something.” he shifts to look at you. “oh really? whats up my love you look nervous.”

you don’t look back at him. trying to figure out how to tell him. “um well uh i went the store the other night right and i grabbed a few things.” he nods showing you that he is listening to you closely. “u-uh so well i got a few pregnancy tests just to have them. and i took the tests just because i wanted to see what it would say. um joshua i’m pregnant.” he doesn’t take his eyes off you. not know what to say right away. “are you serious? we’re gonna have a baby?” he says immediately holding your stomach looking at you so happily. you nod tearing up slightly. “we’re gonna be parents.” you smile now crying a little bit. “oh my god??? we’re gonna be parents. you’re gonna be a mom! im gonna be a dad??” he pulls you into a kiss. “i love you so much. i cannot believe this. im so happy y/n. i wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else.” he rubs your stomach softly. “you are gonna be the most gorgeous mommy.” he kisses you and pulls you onto his lap. “i was so nervous to tell you all day. i was scared you were gonna leave me or something when i told you.”

he shakes his head “my love you know i would never leave you in a million years. you’re stuck with me forever.” he kisses you deeply rubbing your side slightly. you start to grind your hips down onto him moaning slightly. “is making love to me still on the table?” you ask smirking slightly. “of course honey whatever you want i will give to you.” he pulls you into another kiss. this one seeming more desperate and rough causing you to moan slightly into the kiss. “mm lets go up to the bedroom so i can do this properly.” he lifts you up and takes you to the room. he lays you down on the bed gently climbing over you. “i can’t wait to see you with your baby bump. you’re gorgeous now but i know im gonna fall even deeper in love with you.” he says causing you to tear up again. “j-jesus joshua you’re gonna make me cry.” he wipes the tear that escapes your eye and kisses you cheek. “don’t cry my love. i mean what i said. you are everything to me. let me show you how much you mean to me.”

he slowly takes off both of your clothing. he trails kisses down your body making you whimper quietly. “mm honey i want to hear you okay? don’t hide from me. you sound so beautiful.” he says before kissing around your neck and chest.

“let me finger you so i don’t hurt you m’kay?” slowly gliding his finger over your slit.

joshua wasn’t huge but he was not anything close to small. you will never get used to how big his dick in no matter how many times you guys have had sex.

he slowly inserts a finger into you moaning as he feels how wet you are. “my pretty pretty girl. you look so gorgeous like this. i wanna look at you forever.”

you moan as he slides another finger into you gently as he kisses your nose. “mm shua please more. it feels so g-good.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head. he complies sliding a third finger into you kissing up your body again. “yea my love? you gonna make a mess on my fingers? do it honey i want you to make a mess for me. can you do that pretty?” he smiles moving some of your hair out of your face. you nod as he curls his fingers deeper inside you. hitting the spot you need him at most over and over. “s-shua i’m gonna cum.” he nods “yea honey? cum for me. i want to taste all of it my love.” he pulls you into a kiss slowly slipping his tongue into your mouth. that brought you over the edge. you clench around his fingers pulling away from the kiss releasing a loud moan. “mm thats it pretty. fuck you’re doing so well.” you immediately cum after hearing those words. he continues to fuck his fingers into you having you ride out your high.

pulling his fingers out shortly after to pull them up to his mouth and suck on them licking them clean. “you taste so fucking good every time. i could eat your cum for every meal if you’d let me.” you laugh at him slightly. “mm i could do the same for you.” he smiles slighting rubbing his dick along your folds. “you ready my pretty girl?”

you nod quickly looking down at where he is rubbing you. seeing he immediately starts pushing in slowly. his head is thrown back and his head is already sweaty causing hair to stick to his forehead. “fuck you are so tight still my love.” he watches you face as your fucked out expression turns into a more fucked out expression. he pushes in all the way bottoming out not beginning to move yet so you can adjust. “you okay honey? you’re taking me so well. “ he doesn’t take his eyes off of you and where you two are connected. “i-i’m okay shua. you can move.” he smiles before pulling out and slowly pushing back in causing him to release a few grunts. “s-shit you’re always so tight. i’m sorry baby im gonna cum so quick.” you just moan as you feel him thrust deeper inside of you.

“you’re so wet my love im sliding right in.” he says with his mouth falling open as he watches how he fucks you. sex has filled the room. the sound of your wetness, skin slapping, your high pitched moans, and joshuas deep grunts. “s-shua harder please.” he doesn’t say another word grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head fucking you deeper and harder. “like this?” he says cursing under his breath again. “y-yes fuck! oh my god you’re so deep shua i cant.” he groans again leaving more kisses on your body.

“you’re taking me so well my love. pretty pussy, pretty girl, everything about you is so. fucking. pretty.” he punctuates the words with a harder thrust each time.

“i’m c-close shua!” he moves his other hand down to open your legs wider. “shit honey me too im gonna fill you up. you want that? want me to fuck another baby into you?” you nod dumbly not being able to respond at this point. “you gonna cum pretty? i feel you clenching around me. feels so fucking good.” he throws his head back again feeling you release your juices onto his dick. “fuck yes my love. cum on my dick. make a mess all for me.” his dick twitches at his own words as he cums deep inside you.

fucking into you slowly as he calms down from his high. he pulls out a little after watching as his cum mixed with yours flows onto the bed. “look at you my pretty mess. fuck honey. you did so well for me.” you nod at him and sit up slightly feeling more cum drip out of you. “let me get something to clean you up my love.” he gets up pulling on his shorts heading into the bathroom to grab a rag. he wets it with warm water before making his way back into your room cleaning you up gently.

“you okay honey?” you hum. “never been better.” he finishes cleaning you up and grabs you a new pair of clothes handing it to you. “here you go honey let me change the sheets then we can lay down.

—

you didn’t realize that you fell asleep after you guys got back into bed after cleaning up. you wake up to see your lovely husband laying next to you. talking on the phone to who you assume is to be soonyoung or seokmin. “yea shes sleeping right now when she wakes- oh shes awake one second.” h shifts to you. “im so sorry honey did i wake you up? you were sleeping so peacefully.” you shake your head and smile. “its okay shua don’t worry.” he nods before pulling his phone from his ear putting it on speaker.

“soonyoung she can hear you say hello.” he says looking at you. “hi y/n!! happy birthday i hope you liked the decorations.” you smiled “yes i loved it so much. thank you guys for helping shua do that for me it means a lot.”

“no problem at all y/n we love you more than we love joshua!” you laugh slightly as you see your husband roll your eyes. “oh soonyoung i can tell you our news now that shes awake i didn’t want to tell you without her.” he is all smiley now excited to tell him what is gonna be in the next chapter of your life. “okay tell me!! are you guys moving into a new house?? what hurry up!!!” soonyoung says causing you both to laugh. “you want to tell him honey?” he says grabbing a hold of your hand. “yea. well you’re about to be uncle soonyoungie!” the line is silent for a second and then there is a loud scream. “Y/N YOURE PREGNANT OH MY GOD.”

“yes we are having a baby.” you smile at joshua to see that he is already looking at you with so much love in his eyes. “that is amazing you guys. im so happy for you. we need to throw a baby shower! got to go i need to start planning this!” he hangs up making you and joshua laugh at him again. he pulls you into his arms. “i love you so much. can’t wait to see you be the best mom ever.” he kisses you deeply not letting go of you for the rest of the night.

#seventeen #svt #svt fanfic #svt hard thoughts #svt imagines #svt smut #svt x reader #joshua #joshua seventeen #svt joshua #svt fluff #seventeen smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 6 months

Text

Heat

Synopsis: Qatar seems worse than ever this year, and it’s especially not kind to F1’s female driver. The grid does what they can to help.

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: For this one, reader will be 21, and have driven for aston martin since the beginning of 2021 with lance

You’ve driven in about 60 races in your 3 year F1 career so far, yet you’ve never raced in conditions like this before, and you hope you never will again.

Preparing for Qatar the weeks leading up for it, you could laugh at it now because no amount of simulator training or exercising could’ve readied you for the heat in Lusail.

You felt it as soon as you walked out of the airport; the gust of hot air that hit you in the face, the harsh evening sun beating down on you.

“Oh my god” You said to your teammate, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of your pocket. “I know,” Lance says, copying your actions. “This sprint is gonna suck” You groan. “I can’t wait”

The two of you immediately got into the cars waiting for you in the parking lot, and drove to the hotel you’d be hiding in until Thursday.

Media day was bad enough, having to spend hours doing interviews and sitting in to press conferences while trying to get any cool air near you.

“Is Qatar like this every year?” Oscar asked you while sitting alongside Charles, George, and Pierre in a conference.

“It’s been hot the last few years, but nothing like this, no” You answer honestly. “It was nowhere near this hot last year” George adds as the other two drivers nod.

You get through the rest of the day with a lot of water and the many surprisingly useful paper fans you and Lando made as a joke. Friday is dedicated to FP1 and Qualifying, and you end the practice in P11, qualifying P7.

The temperature was bearable that day, but you still left your car red-faced and sweaty afterwards. You talked with a few engineers and strategists before leaving to collect your things and go back to your hotel in hopes of getting some rest before the sprint the next day.

You walk into the paddock Saturday afternoon prepared to endure whatever the shootout and sprint was going to bring to you. You went P9 in the shootout after a stressful amount of track limit warnings, and spend the time before the sprint relaxing in your drivers room. You finished Saturday’s race P8 after defending against Pierre and Valtteri , and trying to overtake Alex in front of you.

You exited your car feeling as tired as you would after a normal race, and tried to show as much happiness as you could for both Max and Oscar after their race finishes.

After using your post-race interview to congratulate the two, you went back to your garage to finish the first race debrief of the weekend, and was sent back to your hotel with instructions to get more hydration and rest.

You thought you felt the worst of the heat earlier in the weekend, but you were proved wrong as you neared the Aston Martin garage Sunday evening.

Nobody could find decent shelter from the Qatari sun, and you were almost sweating by the time you were getting into your car.

You’d done as much possible as you could to prepare for this race, and now it was time to see if it was all worth it or not.

“Good luck, stay safe” Lance said, leaning over your car.

“Good luck, you too” You flip your visor down as your teammate gets into his car, and you’re given the signal to enter the pit lane.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” David Croft begins to commentate. “it is a scorching night out here in Qatar, our drivers have just finished their formation lap, we’re seconds away from driving into the night for 57 laps, it’s light’s out and away we go!”

You pull away from Esteban early and get close to Pierre, taking P6 by Lap 15, and are able to get out his DRS zone afterwards. Statistically, this was good, but physically, you were not feeling well inside your cockpit.

By the halfway mark, there was sweat running down your face, your throat was dry, and your entire body felt like it was overheating trapped inside the small space.

You tried flipping up your visor and adjusting your gloves to get some more airflow, but both methods proved ineffective, leaving you with no fresh air.

By the time you were nearing the end of the race, every turn made your head spin, every straight blew more hot air into your cockpit, and the constant effort of defending against the two Alpine’s behind you was draining your energy.

Your vision was starting to go in and out as you finished your last laps, and you crossed the checkered flag with a sigh of relief, not even caring Pierre overtook you and left you in P7.

It took everything inside you not to black out during the cool down lap, and you could barely manage to maneuver the car into perc ferme.

Drivers were sitting up and getting out of their cars all around you, but you couldn’t find any energy to leave yours. You sat in your car, head leaning against the steering wheel, breathing heavy, as other drivers started to notice.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Pierre kneels by your car, labored breathing and accent thicker than usual. You shake your head, the small movement making your head pound, and groan.

“Y/n, c’mon, I will help, give me your steering wheel” The driver persists, holding out his hand.

You oblige, as Pierre shouts towards the cars in the front. “Charlie! Venez ici! (come here)

As Charles makes his way from his Ferrari to your car, you begin to sit up and wrap your hands around the halo to pull yourself into a standing position. You move to sit on top of your car after your vision gets dizzy and you start to lose balance.

“What’s wrong? Are you two okay?” The Monagasque asks before you shake your head once again.

“I’m fine, I don’t think she is. Here, put one of her arms around your shoulders” Pierre instructs as he reaches out to help you step off the car.

Despite themselves finishing the same grueling race, the two men move you to sit on the ground before doing the same.

George notices, and comes over with four bottles of water to join you three sitting against the Aston Martin car. The four of you pull off your helmets and balaclavas to chug the water George brought, too tired to move anywhere else.

You’re still dizzy, your hands are shaking, and your body is still overheated, but you’re done with the race and you have water, and those things seem to be the only ones that matter.

“You guys okay?” George asks from beside Charles.

“No”

Charles and Pierre shake theirs heads. “Me either,but shouldn’t we, like, go get weighed and stuff?”

You wave a hand dismissively and take another sip of water. The British man nods again. “Yeah, you’re right”

After a few more minutes of sitting on the ground against your car and listening to all the action around you, the four of you stand up to complete the post race procedures and go to the media pen.

“Y/n, how was your race? Are you happy with P7?” The journalist asks you, pointing the microphone towards you.

“Yeah, I’m happy with it. The race was really tough though, I was really struggling towards the end to finish the race and bring the car in”

“A lot of people think Qatar should be moved in the schedule, or taken off completely. What do you think about that?”

“I think it should definitely be moved to either earlier or later in the year. I know I wasn’t the only driver struggling out here, and it’s not safe that we race like this” You reply honestly.

“I agree, Y/n. Good race today, get some rest” The woman smiles at you, and you’re glad to be able to head back to your garage.

After about thirty minutes, Lance joins you and the rest of the engineers in the debrief room, and takes a seat next to you.

“Holy shit” He says.

“Yeah”

“Never again” You agree.

something short and sweet for the all the pain qatar brought earlier this year

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familyvideostevie · 7 months

Text

october eighth

day eight: remus lupin you and remus fool around on a spooky path at night | 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, semi-public sex, unprotected sex | 1.9k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex (risk of being discovered, doesn't happen), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, little bit of dirty talk, little bit of praising, remus is a tiny tiny tiny bit mean, creampie

“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask. A cold gust blows down the forest path and you shiver, pressing harder into Remus’s side.

“Me?” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Never.” His arm is warm and heavy around your shoulders. You’d walk faster if you were less glued to him but you’re not about to pull away. The path is scary.

“Why are we doing this, again?” You look over at him. Remus looks lovely every second of every damn day but in tonight’s light from the full moon he’s practically glowing. The scars on his face stand out and you want to trace them.

“Because I have something to show you.” The harvest festival you’ve left behind is a dull road back down the path. You haven’t seen another person in almost ten minutes, even though you’re still technically on the fair grounds.

“You better not have something scary planned.”

Remus smirks at you and presses his lips to your temple. “Have faith, love,” he says. “I’m not going to terrorize you.”

You roll your eyes. The path is well traveled though deserted. The trees around you are tall, the color of their leaves still visible in the moonlight. It’s not quite a proper fall night but it’s pretty close.

“Why isn’t anyone out here? Whatever you want to show me can’t be that great if no one else wants to see it.” You’re teasing and Remus can tell. He tugs on your earlobe.

“We used to come out here in the summer, actually,” he says. “Not so much this time of year. Bit nippy.”

“Yeah, and creepy.” You’re speaking in a hush for no reason.

“Well, we came to see who would be brave enough to sneak into that.” He points in front of you and as you see a massive house rising out of the shadows at the end of the woods.

“Remus!” you gasp. “Fuck, that is scary!”

He laughs. He laughs at you. Unbelievable. He tugs you close, arms around you.

“Rumor says it’s haunted.” You believe it. The house itself looms in a way that cannot be natural. The siding is chipped and rotting, the windows nothing but broken glass with torn curtains flapping in the wind. It looks like the perfect place to get murdered.

“We are not going in there.”

“No,” he agrees, “we are not.” His hand rubs up and down your spine, warming you through your coat.

“Did you ever go in?”

“A few times, with James and Sirius,” he says. “Most everyone else who came down here was only interested in the house.”

You frown. “Is there something else more terrifying and more interesting that you idiots hung around for?”

Remus smirks and you know he’s up to something. Your buttoned up, calm, collected boyfriend has a devious side that still manages to surprise you.

He leans down and presses his lips to your ear. “This is where we’d come to snog girls,” he whispers.

Your breath stutters in your chest and you swallow and embarrassing noise at his closeness. “Oh?”

“Among other things,” he adds. He turns you in his hold and walks you backwards until you’re back in the trees, off the path a little bit. Your back hits the bark of a trunk.

“Other things?” you swallow. You see where this is going but you’re not sure how far he’ll take it. Already you feel hot under your layers.

He steps back into your space, pressing you against the tree, and drags his nose down your throat, nipping at your skin as he goes. “Would you let me do other things to you, darling?”

“Remus,” you gasp. “Remus, really? In the woods? Here?” Anyone could walk by. And yet…your legs clench at the idea.

“No one will see us,” he says, pulling away to look at you full on. “We’re off the path enough, I swear.” He rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. “If you don’t want to I will happily take you home and fuck you in bed instead —”

“I want to,” you rush out. It’s the truth. Your sex life is healthy and fun and you like trying new things with him, but this is…something different. This is hot in a way you didn’t think fooling around outside would be. You like it.

“I thought I was the only one who went a bit wild under the full moon,” he teases. Smug bastard. You slide your hand down his chest and palm him through his pants. He’s half hard already.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. He grins wolfishly.

“Going to be quiet?” he says, whispering. The woods aren’t silent, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat and Remus’s breaths. You nod. “Good girl.”

You surge forward to kiss him. It’s teeth and tongues, sloppy but hot. Remus manages to undo his belt before leaving the button and zipper to you as he goes for your own pants, mouth never leaving yours until you pull away to spit in you palm.

He hisses when you get under his briefs to grasp his cock. It’s warm in your cold hand and you jerk him as best you can with his pants still on. “Fuck,” he gasps.

“What was that about being quiet?” you mutter. He kisses you again, tonguing into your mouth as he pops the button on your jeans. His long fingers find their way underneath your underwear and into your cunt and you moan against his mouth.

“Hush,” Remus chides. You pant into his neck, your grip on his cock haphazard as he circles your clit. “You’re soaked, darling,” he says. “You like this? Being out in the open like this? Where anyone could see how wet you are?”

You grasp his bicep with the hand not in his pants so you don’t fall over. “Oh my god,” you gasp. Who knew you were so into this?

“Not quite,” he teases. He slips two fingers into you and you bite down on his collar. “I’m going to fuck you right here against this tree,” he says, voice deeper than usual in your ear. “And then we’re going to go home and you’re going to ride me after I lap at your cunt until you scream.”

“Busy — ah — night.” Remus sucks on your pulse point and you clench around his fingers. He thrusts into your hand and then his touch is gone and you whine.

“Can’t have you wrecking my plan with those hands,” he says. “Step out of your jeans?”

You look around and see no one in the darkness. Remus pulls his boxers down a little further so he can free his entire cock and his balls. If you weren’t so desperate for him to fuck you right now you’d get on your knees, but instead you shimmy your pants down and step out of one leg. It’s not like you’ll be able to pull them up if someone comes by but not being totally bare makes you feel better.

“Now what?” The cool air makes your cunt clench and you can see that Remus’s pupils are totally blown. He crowds you against the tree so your back is against it once more and hooks one hand around your thigh to lift your leg. The mechanics of fucking like this worry you a little but you’re perfectly content to let Remus arrange you how he likes.

“Now I fuck you,” he says. He strokes himself a few times then lines up near your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing your clit for a few breaths.

You moan low in your throat. “C’mon,” you whine. Remus doesn’t wait any longer. He slide inside you in one movement, stealing the air from your lungs. He wraps one leg around his hip and taps the other. Between his firm hold and the tree, you’re fairly secure with both legs around his waist.

“So tight,” he says in your ear. “I’ve been inside you hundreds of times and you’re still so tight.”

You’re about to retort when some twigs snap in the darkness. You freeze and Remus stays where he is, face in your neck and arms steady, palms on your bare ass.

The trail is almost certainly out of sight but not far enough that you can’t hear a group of guys walking down it. “It’s not that scary, dude,” one of them says.

“Be quiet,” Remus reminds you and then he starts moving his hips. You swallow your moans as he drags his cock out and then in again, torturously slow.

“People used to fuck in these woods when we were younger,” another guy says. Their voices are already fading but it feels like they’re right next to you.

“If only they knew,” Remus continues. His lips are pressed to your ear, tongue darting out between every sentence. “I can’t believe they aren’t hearing how wet you are.”

You might explode. You might bite through your tongue. The group keeps talking but you can’t be bothered to listen anymore. There is laughter and under the cover of the sound Remus snaps his hips hard and you swallow a scream.

“Good girl,” he tells you. You clench around him. “They’re gone.” You can’t hear anything anymore except your blood pounding in your ears. Remus finally picks up the pace. The sounds must be obvious — your slick, his balls smacking into your ass, your panting. But you don’t care. The angle he’s getting is so good and it’s so hot that anyone could walk by and see you taking him and —

“How close are you?” Remus grinds out.

“Close,” you manage. “Close, Remus, keep going —”

“Me too,” he says after he licks a stripe up your neck. “Dirty girl, letting me fuck you against a tree, I’m not going to last long —

“Inside,” you blurt out. “Please, inside me, Remus.”

Your eyes are closed but he shifts his hold on you and uses one hand to grab your jaw so you’ll look at him. His pupils are totally blown and his eyes are wide.

“You want to — fuck — walk out of here with my cum inside you?”

You nod frantically and he grabs your ass again, picking up his pace.

“Anything, Remus,” you moan. “Anything, just — ah — don’t stop, I’m —”

His cock hits that spot inside you once, twice, three times, and you’re gone. Over the edge, head thrown back far enough that you thump it against the tree as you clench around him. He says your name like a prayer and his hips still as he spurts inside you.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You’re both panting and he gently guides your legs back to the ground even though you’re weak in the knees. Your jeans have almost come off the remaining leg entirely but you don’t care. Remus pulls out of you and without tucking himself back into his briefs he leans down to pull your panties back up your legs and around your hips, your jeans following. “Can’t lose any,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s filthy,” you say, breath still returning to normal. You can’t believe you just fucked in the woods.

He shrugs and puts his cock, shiny with you, away and fastens his belt.

“C’mere, Remus.” He obeys and cups your face with one hand. You kiss him gently, chastely compared to what you were doing before. “Let’s go home,” you say. “So I can blow you because I’m not kneeling on this nasty forest floor.”

He laughs loudly, so loudly you know that anyone walking by will hear. Good thing you’re not fucking anymore.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders fanfiction

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eddysocs · 2 months

Text

Smut Dialogue Prompts

You may mix and match these prompts with ones on the same or different prompt lists you find on my blog when making requests. Context for the prompt(s) is always welcomed and encouraged, but not required.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Your voice does things to me. I just thought you should know that."

"I know you're technically my instructor..."

"I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist."

"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago."

"We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

"My tongue still remembers the way you taste."

"I want to count every one of your freckles with my lips."

"I know I should ask why you're naked in my bed, but I just want to enjoy it for a moment."

"Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

"Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same."

"You look so cute when you're all disheveled."

"Well, how do you like my outfit?" "You're hardly wearing anything."

"I’ve never seen you look at me like that before."

"Don’t deny me what’s mine."

"Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll do the work."

"My God, you're so fucking gorgeous like this."

"Can I- can I please touch myself?"

"Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me."

"I'll make you feel good, I promise. Just trust me."

"I wanna taste you on my lips again."

"Wanna feel you against me."

"Clothes on or clothes off?"

"Mmm, always so impatient for me, aren't you?"

"Do I turn you on that much?"

"I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep doing that."

"Need I remind you on what happened last night?"

"Lift your hips up for me."

"You’re so hot when you're bossy."

"Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?" "Okay."

"Are we— are we really going to do this here?"

"Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart."

"I want you in the most sinful ways possible."

"You like messing with my head, don't you?" "Only because it clearly turns you on."

"You'd sound so good begging for it."

"Getting you naked was just the first part of my plan for the night."

"You're wearing way too many clothes for what I have in mind."

"There's just something so extremely irresistible about a uniform..."

"You should keep the boots on."

"Maybe I should wake you up like this more often."

"We still have a few minutes left. You think you can manage?"

"Tell me if the collar is too tight."

"You’re such a good girl."

"We’re in the middle of a restaurant, what are you doing?"

"I’m trying to drive here."

"I love the way you touch me."

"Are you saying this doesn’t turn you on?"

"You know you want it."

"I’m not sure you could handle me."

"Please, I need you. Now."

"I like it when you say my name like that."

"I’m going to be late because you can’t keep it in your pants."

"Shut up and take your pants off."

"Don’t stop. Whatever you do, please don’t stop."

"I’m not hurting you, am I?"

"This can be our little secret."

"On your knees."

"I’ve thought about it before. You know, being with you like this."

"You look so good with your head between my legs."

"What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?"

"Let me worship you the way you deserve."

"It’s been such a long time."

"Turn around. I want to try something."

"Try not to ruin your manicure when you dig those nails into my back."

"Are you sure there’s enough room to do this in a hospital bed?"

"You don’t have anything on under that, do you?"

"Take me to bed or lose me forever."

"Keep this up and I’ll become a sex addict."

"You’ve been playing hard to get all night."

"I love it when you dress up for me."

"I love that the sexiest woman I’ve ever met is also my best friend."

"You don’t just belong in my bed, you belong on magazine covers."

"You make sex a religious experience."

"I thought we agreed to share her."

"I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional."

"I think I’ve made my intentions clear."

"I shouldn’t allow myself to get so close to you."

"I thought maybe we could do a little more than kissing this time."

"Oh my god, you’re naked." "Look all you like. I don’t mind."

"Mmm, good morning to you too."

"I want you." "Then have me."

"You’re not taking me to bed. Ever." "Who said it had to be a bed?"

"Would you reconsider if I were sober?"

"I'm not wearing any panties."

"Can’t I at least take my shoes off before you pounce on me?"

"I’m the one in charge here, silly girl."

"Be a good girl for mommy."

"And here I was, thinking that you were so innocent."

"Are you going to keep staring at my ass or…?"

"I want my first time to be with you."

"I can’t believe I did this again."

"Come sit on my lap, baby."

"Oh I'm sorry, did I pull too hard on the leash? What a shame."

"You enjoy being praised, don’t you?"

"Why don’t you bare that pretty neck for me?"

"I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here."

"Do you think they can hear us through the tent?" "Yes we can."

"I was wondering how long you two were going to make out like that before you realize you weren’t alone."

"You could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still want you."

"Oh my god. Did we just break the bed?"

"Throw your morals out the window, just for tonight."

#smut dialogue prompts #smut prompts

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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

part one

part two

———

“Ugh,” Keith says.

“Ugh,” Lance agrees.

Keith looks up slowly from where he was glowering at his plate of appetizers, staring at Lance for several minutes with eyes squinted in suspicion.

“What the fresh fuck are you talking about.”

Lance wrinkles his nose at him. “What?”

“You love these things,” Keith says, like the Blue Paladin is a particularly slow toddler. “You’re usually – prancing around, making a fool of yourself in front of pretty people. Every time one of these dumbass celebration missions ends you complain. The fuck you mean, ‘ugh’?”

“I mean ugh,” Lance repeats, emphasizing the word. “Sometimes I simply do not feel the party vibe, Keith. You ever think about that? No. Because you never think about anything. Because the only thing in your skull is a hamster wheel covered in cobwebs. So there.”

Keith lets that hang between them for a moment.

“You’re just mad you got called ugly earlier, huh.”

“It was so rude!” Lance explodes, obviously waiting for Keith to bring it up. “Like, who says that? What kind of trained diplomat refers to a random stranger as ‘the homely one’? Why the fuck would you say that? And it’s not even true! I’m a legit snack! I have been propositioned, you know! More than once! It’s actually quite frequent!” He throws his hand up, noise of frustration coming from deep in his throat. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no actual sentences come out, just different variations of ‘ugh!’ and ‘how dare!’ and ‘the nerve!’.

Because he is a stellar person, Keith does not laugh, instead biting his tongue as hard as he physically can without biting it clean off. Everytime Lance’s sputtering dies off only to kick back up when he thinks of his transgression again it gets harder.

Contrary to what everyone seems to think, Keith likes Lance. They’re friends. They hang out, they talk shit about other people, they do friend things. That’s why they’re both sitting here, at the edge of some grandiose ballroom on a planet whose name Keith has forgotten because they’ve only been here one day, leaning against each other and picking food off the same plate. (Well, Keith’s plate. He’s being gracious and letting Lance have some because Lance has taken enough massive Ls today, and Hunk is busy, so if Lance gets hangry Keith can’t just pass him off on somebody, so. Better to keep him fed, or whatever.)

“We should go – do something,” Lance mutters, picking apart what appears to be a cookie. Maybe. Alien shit is weird. “Make faces behind Shiro’s back. Convince Coran to get wine drunk.”

“We did that already,” Keith dismisses. “Last time, remember? We can’t do it too many times or we’re gonna have to be supervised again. We just managed to convince Shiro to ease up on the trackers.”

Lance sinks further into his chair. “Ugh,” he says again, with true feeling.

Keith begins to feel bad. Lance doesn’t look genuinely upset, he doesn’t think – he knows what a genuinely upset Lance looks like and it’s fucking heartbreaking; it’s the kind of shit that could stop wars – but Keith is a little bit worried that he is bothered, in some way. It can’t feel good to get called ugly in front of everybody. It was funny. And Keith laughed a little. But, still.

Keith nudges their shoulders together. “You wanna go dance?”

Lance freezes. He turns his head slowly to face Keith, like if he moves too fast Keith is going to change his mind. His brown doe eyes are wide and hopeful and over the top, honestly. God. No one asked for that.

“Really?”

“No. I’m taking back my offer. You’re being weird about it.”

“Nope! Nuh-uh! No takebacksies! We’re dancing!” Lance whoops, shoving back his chair and scrambling to his feet. He wraps his fingers tightly around Keith’s wrist, grinning so wide his face is about to split.

“You are holding me hostage,” Keith complains, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He gets up at Lance’s urging, popping the last of the weirdo alien cookie in his mouth and wiping his hand on his suit pants. “Let’s go, Homely One.”

If looks could kill, Keith’s intestines would be painting the floor. The look Lance gives him is lethal. It’s made worse when Keith laughs, because that was funny as hell and he refuses to pretend otherwise. He pulls Lance away, though, before he can reach for the butterknife that’s closeby and stab Keith in the eye, clasping their hands together and weaving them through the crowd of dancers and partygoers. Pretty soon the excitement catches up to Lance, because after a minute he’s the one dragging them around, having apparently picked a perfect spot on the ornate marble dancefloor for them to situate themselves. It is, of course, right smack in the middle, surrounded by people on all sides, right under the massive and delicate crystal chandelier that Keith and Hunk spent forty minutes mocking when they first got here.

“You’re extra as all fuck,” Keith informs him, dutifully putting his hand on Lance’s waist as instructed.

“I will have my Sam Montgomery moment or so help me God,” Lance responds. Keith notices he’s closer than he needs to be and immediately orders himself to un-notice that. He can see flecks of amber in Lance’s dark eyes. It’s so actually horrible. He focuses on Lance’s nose, instead, hoping for reprieve, but of course there is where all his freckles are. An attempt to focus on Lance’s mouth is a disaster waiting to happen, so he looks deliberately at Lance’s bigass forehead to distract himself. It kind of works.

The forehead that he is so intensely focused on wrinkles, and Keith says, “What,” and Lance says, “Aw, Keith, gross,” and then before Keith can stop anything Lance is untangling their hands, licking his thumb, and wiping something at the corner of his mouth.

Keith freezes.

He processes.

He gags.

All in that order.

“Lance!” he cries, swiping his own hands at his mouth. “Gross!”

“What’s gross is you walking around with crusty icing on the corner of your mouth, heathen,” Lance says, eyebrow arched and chin tilted defiantly.

Keith makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. His face matches his armour. He prays that the universe crack open the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t – gah. No one has done that to him since Shiro’s mother would come to visit and take them to get ice cream. When he was eleven.

“Are you a ninety year old grandmother,” he hisses, swiping the corner of his mouth one last time. He thinks his face may actually be glowing.

“Are you a two year old who can’t keep his food in his mouth?” Lance counters. He looks entirely unbothered and Keith wants to strangle him. Who does that. Who, honestly.

“That is not how I wanted your spit near my mouth,” Keith mutters, and immediately wants to open his bayard between his eyes.

Lance stops. A twirling trio of people bumps into him. He does not move. Slowly, his face begins to burn, starting from the sharp jut of his cheekbones and quickly spreading everywhere else. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then narrows his eyes in determination and opens it again.

“Nope,” Keith says before he can say anything. There is no recovery from this. There is only tactical retreat. “I have to – I left my excuse on the castle. I’m gonna go grab it.”

As quickly as he can manage he lets go of Lance’s hand and his waist, gracefully ducking around a dancing couple and high-tailing the hell out of the room. He averts his eyes when he walks by Shiro, praying he doesn’t get stopped, and walks straight out the door. Lance’s calls of his name quickly become faint as he sprints down the hallway.

He can’t believe — God, he said that. Out loud. To Lance’s face. After Lance fucking — licked his thumb and wiped Keith’s face. Like the fussy mother he is.

And Keith is still attracted to him.

He stops in the middle of the hallway, head cradled in his hands, skin hot to the touch.

Fuck, he has a complex.