#— not like in. like in getting words out once you’ve started i mean the speed in which the words can start churning themselves together
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always only you (c.sc)
summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.
note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy
warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other
pairings: s.coups x reader
genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers
word count: 14.2K
It was a bad date.
Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either.
Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers.
You just wish you never told Mingyu.
I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.
Stupid.
You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure.
You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you.
Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it.
“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile.
“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”
“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth.
The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought.
Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you.
You do fast math, panic math.
After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home.
Your stomach churns.
You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”
He’s gone before you can say thank you.
You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain.
Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this.
The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots.
It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call.
You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?
No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing.
You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride.
The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box.
Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone.
The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,”
The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”
“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”
“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”
“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?”
“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”
“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?”
He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop.
“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.
“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys.
You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops.
“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,”
You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,”
“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,”
You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming.
The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first.
You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress.
Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care.
He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless.
Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.
Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately.
Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.
A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse.
By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill.
When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air.
He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather.
“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way.
His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?”
“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,”
He blinks, “y/n,”
“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,”
Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality.
He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you.
You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,”
“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position.
The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.
“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?”
Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.
He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I know,”
“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.”
Oh.
Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,”
He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words.
“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,”
“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact.
“I know,” You sigh.
“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?”
“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,”
Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish.
“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,”
“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.”
“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,”
“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”
He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait.
The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory.
He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,”
“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone.
“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.”
“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,”
“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.
“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,”
“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road.
“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,”
“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile.
“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,”
He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?”
“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,”
He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?”
“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,”
“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave.
You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,”
“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in.
“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain.
“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.”
Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?”
You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,”
“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,”
“I know,” You breathe.
He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?”
“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,”
“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,”
“I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,”
He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,”
You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?”
“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.”
You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly.
“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,”
His hand tightens on yours.
“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,”
You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour.
“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you.
“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,”
His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,”
“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.”
“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,”
You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green.
He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,”
“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty.
“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,”
“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?”
“Shut up,” He sighs.
“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?”
He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?”
“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,”
His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,”
“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,”
He grimaces, “Ugh,”
“Exactly,”
“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,”
He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal.
Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?”
“You want to come up?”
“If you don’t mind,”
“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol.
He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times.
It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.
“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,”
“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here.
“So,” He clears his throat lightly.
“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”
You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride.
But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding.
Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s.
He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go.
“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,”
“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands.
Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps.
“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,”
“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,”
“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,”
“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?”
“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,”
He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom.
It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself.
But then he laughs again.
You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?”
“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf.
“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,”
“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign.
“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile.
“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,”
He nods, “I remember,”
“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,”
“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,”
“Mm,” You laugh.
“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee.
“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise.
“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’”
“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,”
“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,”
“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,”
“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,”
“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little.
“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,”
“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,”
Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?”
“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,”
He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you.
“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,”
Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back.
“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,”
“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue.
“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,”
“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,”
He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,”
“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee.
“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question.
“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”
His eyes flick over you and then he nods.
The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”
You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash.
“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,”
“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply.
“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning.
It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it.
“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him.
He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least.
You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, ���Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”
He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,”
“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,”
“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,”
“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,”
“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has.
“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”
He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours.
You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist.
He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?”
“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird.
“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?”
“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in.
You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,”
This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you.
“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,”
He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,”
“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw.
“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,”
“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.
“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants.
A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss.
“God,” He shivers.
“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,”
Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away.
“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,”
“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,”
“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back.
“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,”
“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth.
“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart.
“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms.
“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip.
“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?”
“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,”
“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small.
“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,”
“Okay,”
“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?”
Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards.
“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.”
“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,”
“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.
“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,”
He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?”
“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,”
He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,”
“Yeah,”
“And you wanted me?”
You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,”
“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,”
“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,”
He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity.
“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,”
“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out.
He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,”
“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat.
“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,”
“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.
His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?”
“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,”
“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,”
You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again.
With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.
“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,”
His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,”
“Baby?”
He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,”
“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley.
“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,”
“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?”
His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,”
For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you.
“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,”
Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?”
He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?”
“Please,” You whisper.
He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric.
“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess.
“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,”
You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else.
“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,”
You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,”
“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,”
This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises.
“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,”
“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again.
A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction.
“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.
“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,”
He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,”
“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.
“Can I eat you out?”
Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”
You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you.
You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you.
“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,”
“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze.
“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,”
“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile.
His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”
Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly.
“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,”
“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.
“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,”
Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest.
“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?”
“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam.
“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip.
“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this.
His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?”
“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.
“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.
“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”
“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?”
“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high.
“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?”
“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?”
“Of course,” You kiss him back.
“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”
Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast.
“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,”
“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,”
His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?”
“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,”
“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?”
“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,”
He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,”
Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,”
“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,”
You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth.
“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,”
“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,”
“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue.
You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you.
“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,”
“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,”
He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts.
Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap.
“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,”
He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,”
He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder.
“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”
He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit.
“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,”
It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure.
“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,”
Everything you are is trembling in his hands.
“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,”
You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin.
“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,”
“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.
“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,”
Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”
“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,”
“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,”
He sighs, “This pussy,”
“Cheol,” You blush hard.
“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,”
“Anything?”
He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.”
“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?”
He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,”
“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,”
“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench.
When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen.
You want him inside you so badly you could cry.
“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his.
“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder.
“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs.
“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,”
He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,”
“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.
He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,”
“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?”
He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder.
“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?”
It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.
“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance.
“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand.
You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,”
“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls.
You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper.
“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,”
“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,”
“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,”
Your muscles clench down around his fingers.
He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?”
You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,”
“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?”
“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again.
“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,”
All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you.
When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz.
“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again.
“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you.
“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams.
The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go.
Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease.
When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down.
“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms.
“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?”
“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”
He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”
You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,”
“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?”
He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone.
He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?
“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,”
“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him.
You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,”
“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock.
“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,”
He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him.
“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,”
He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him.
He nods, just a little.
“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,”
His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers.
You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this.
“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,”
He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?”
You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,”
Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs.
You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel.
“y/n,” He pants tightly.
You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down.
“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,”
“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early.
“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,”
He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,”
“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again.
“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips.
The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest.
“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,”
You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,”
“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards.
“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,”
“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,”
Your eyes slam shut.
“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,”
“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter.
“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming.
Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”
He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,”
You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.
“So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss.
“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,”
Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm.
“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,”
As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you.
“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,”
“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together.
You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move.
When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?”
“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,”
“Yeah?”
“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,”
You laugh against him, “Next time?”
He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,”
You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,”
He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,”
Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,”
He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?”
“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly.
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,”
You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,”
“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,”
“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,”
“Good,” He sighs.
You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,”
“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,”
“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs.
Maybe you could rally.
Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,”
“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,”
“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing.
Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed.
You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.
You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine.
In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads.
“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,”
You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest.
“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”
Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake.
“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention.
“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,”
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,”
Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”
He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,”
“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,”
“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,”
“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups.
“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,”
“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,”
He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?”
“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest.
His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,”
Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog.
“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel.
“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,”
“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”
“Go?” He asks.
“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,”
His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,”
“You what,” You blink.
“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,”
You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go.
“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,”
You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side.
“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”
“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue.
“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,”
Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you.
You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,”
“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap.
“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,”
He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?”
“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,”
“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand.
“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,”
“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,”
You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.
When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch.
#honeyhotteoks updates#honeyhotteoks fics#seventeen ff#seventeen fic#svt fanfic#svt ff#scoups x reader#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#scoups#scoups fic#scoups smut#scoups ff#seungcheol smut#seungcheol fluff
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[NSFW] Obey Me - MC begs him to fill them up
I’m sorrrrrryyy I’m really not I had to do this
m.list
TW: unprotected sex, creampie, swearing
Characters: demon bros
Writer: ahegato
note: basically, it’s the first time MC and him are having sex without protection (it’s of course assumed that both are safe in this case), and at the end, MC asks him to finish inside of them. I can't possibly be the only one into this kinda thing, so here y'all go!
LUCIFER:
“hm?”
he stops and pretends he didn’t hear you, just to make you say it again
as much as his animalistic urges tell him to immediately do it - to physically claim you as his - he also can’t just immediately give in
so he makes you beg even more for it
all while he has a smirk on his lips
you whine as you repeat it again
“really now?”
he stares you down, watching you wiggle to get some friction, as he’s still not moving
“yes... please, Lucifer...”
the demon chuckles, gently palming your face with his hand
then he suddenly begins to roughly thrust into you again, leaving you starstruck, eyes rolling up into your skull as you mumble his name
on his very last thrust before reaching his orgasm, he whispers “you’re mine” in your ear, sending you over the edge as well
I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to stay inside you for a while
during that time, he’s very affectionate and sweet, more than he usually is, basically drowning you in compliments and kisses
MAMMON:
starts to moan. like a lot
I mean he already was but it definitely got louder and more frequent
like imagine pornstar kind of moans
loud enough to possibly wake up Belphegor in the attic
his trembling knees nearly give in underneath him
he leans down until your noses are almost touching, whispering “i love you” over and over again between his moans
moans your name really loudly when he bottoms out in you, eyes rolling up into his skull as he fills you up
his arms are tightly wrapped around you, and he refuses to move his face currently buried in your neck
you rake your fingers through his hair as you ask him what he’s doing, and that’s when he lets out a sniffle
“i just love you so much” he cries, streams of happy tears running down his face
(post nut crying is surprisingly wholesome and it’s so fucking cute don’t @ me)
LEVIATHAN:
cums on the spot, letting out a whimper as he does so
mumbles incoherent words as he rides through his high
after finally calming down, he just kind of froze
you’re not sure if it’s because he realized what you asked for or because he accidentally finished without you
when it’s been about 10 seconds of complete silence, you start to genuinely get concerned
you’re about to ask if he’s okay when he bursts into a ramble where he profusely apologized, his face red as a tomato
won't look you in the eyes, burying his face into your chest
you try to reassure him that it’s okay and that you understand
…coyly adding that you’re just happy that you got what you wanted *wink wink*
he stares at you, his cheeks basically on fire at this point
guess who’s hard again 😏
SATAN:
slows his movement down
“oh? what was that? did my kitten just ask me to fill them up?”
you quickly nod, to which he leans down, feeling your shaky breath against his face
“who am I to refuse what you so desperately want?”
to which he speeds up again, rutting against you harder and faster, but also taking one of his hands down to stimulate you as well
as much as he desperately wants to release, he wants you to do so as well
won’t let himself finish until you’ve done it first
once you were pushed over the edge he couldn’t hold it back anymore, with your walls clenching around him, and he slams into you one last time before finally releasing
he will keep you in place until you’ve taken every single drop of him
ASMODEUS:
“mmm, of course. anything for you, my darling~”
I think he’d prefer the moment to be slow and deep rather than fast and hard, which usually isn’t the case
but you’re special to him, you’ve touched his heart in a way that no one else ever has
and he wants to show that through his actions
he wants to show that this is not him being the avatar of lust, this is him being absolutely infatuated by you
definitely holding at least one of your hands, the other most likely resting on one side of your face
he wants... no. he needs to see you
"look at me, sweetheart"
like Satan, he starts to touch you to bring you closer to the edge
he wants to finish together with you
the hand holding yours will tighten its grip as you both reach your climax, Asmodeus leaving moans and whines behind him as he does so
lusty boi is all about aftercare, so he brings you to the bathroom to shower off all the stickiness
then he'll snuggle with you in bed until you fall asleep
BEELZEBUB:
this boi has a breeding kink
so many people have mentioned it in their headcanons, and yeah I can kinda see it being true
“really? you really want it?” he asks with a look of surprise
once you confirm it, he wastes no time in speeding up his thrusts, gripping onto you even tighter from the pleasure
“I’m about to finish... I’m going to finish deep inside of you...” he huffs in your ear, “you’re going to be so full once I’m done”
you whine in response, moving into his thrusts to speed it up
with a deep guttural growl, he fills you up
...and I mean really fills you up
the fluid quickly starts to seep out of you, even while he’s still inside
that’s how much we’re talking about here
he’ll probably change the position so you can snuggle, but he’ll stay inside for as long as you’ll let him
it might even lead to him getting hard again tbh
BELPHEGOR:
at first he doesn’t see it as a super big deal
like it’s definitely an exciting thing, but he’s not crazy about it like some of the others are
he’s still pretty pleased though
because that means there’ll be less for him to clean up
because it’s such a close and intimate thing
“you want it inside?” he whispers softly, and you quickly nod
speeding up his movements, he feels himself get close
he wasn’t prepared for it to feel this good, and he ends up being way louder than he thought
you guys are usually rather quiet, or at least he is
he's practically whining and moaning like a pornstar
it doesn’t take much more for him to get over the edge
“ah fuck MC, ” he moaned as he connected his hips with yours a few more times, letting out spurts of his cum as he did so
his orgasm lasts for way longer than usual, all he can do is let out a few whimpers from the sensation, gripping you tightly
someone definitely heard him
✦ written 06/2023 - 11/2023 ✦ posted 28/11/2023 ✦ ahegato ✦
#obey me#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#satan#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me shall we date#obey me!#headcanons#smut#obey me smut#lucifer smut#mammon smut#leviathan smut#satan smut#asmodeus smut#beelzebub smut#belphegor smut#gender neutral reader#gn!mc#obey me imagines
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bambi eyes (6) r.cameron
[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Enjoy!
word count: 4.5k
In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.
masterlist
You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats.
Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point.
You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth.
A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”
You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”
Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”
You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”
Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!”
“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana.
You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“
“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.”
You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”
“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.”
“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray.
“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”
You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.” You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you.
Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension.
Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.”
Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill.
You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”
“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”
You giggled, “You were worried?”
“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”
“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.
As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence.
“Ill-u-min-ate.”
“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.”
“Haz-ar-dous.”
“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”
“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”
“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”
“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning.
“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”
You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”
“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.”
You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.
“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”
“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”
“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.”
“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”
“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”
You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”
“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs.
“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”
After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip.
You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him.
You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened.
“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”
You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”
You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Cum for me.”
You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”
“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”
Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”
Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do.
Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started.
Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status.
Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”
“Get to the point, please.”
“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard.
“...what are you implying, Barry?”
“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”
“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”
“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”
“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”
Barry was right about that.
You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on.
Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course.
After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.
Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size.
You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.
“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”
“You wanna try it?”
Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”
The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.”
“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled.
He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”
You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”
You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement.
“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe.
“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”
His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”
Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”
Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you.
“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”
“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”
“Really?” Your eyes widened.
“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”
“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.”
You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated.
“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”
You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place.
“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”
After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress.
Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe.
He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”
“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”
Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.”
“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you.
“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”
Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”
“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”
“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out.
Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working.
When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake.
Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world.
Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear.
“I need to go potty.”
Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat.
Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently.
“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”
Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”
“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?”
“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”
“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”
“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”
“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked.
“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.
“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”
This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him.
“At the very least?”
“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”
Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”
As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”
The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”
reblog with a comment letting me know what you think to be added to my tag list!
#dark fic#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron#outer banks smut#barry outer banks#rafe cameron x black!reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe fanfiction
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Out Of Bounds (M) - sim jaeyun
PAIRINGS: jake x female reader, afab reader
SYNOPSIS: in which jake is your little brothers best friend that knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you.
GENRE: smut, pwp.
CONTENT: jake is super whiny, one-sided pining, reader is slightly older, overuse of the word ‘noona’, jake def has a thing for older women, mentions of drinking, masturbation (m), mentions non consensual groping, mentions of verbal threats.
jake is everything but a pleasure to be around. endless flirting, groping, threats aimed at your boyfriend, and other unspeakable things. all done where no one can hear you beg him to just leave you alone, just this once. or hear him grumble about how much he likes you, and won’t stop.
jake is like your brother too, just a little bit more annoying. although his actions can be a bit much, you know he’s a kind hearted boy deep down with pure intentions. even if his actions can be a bit much. it’s nothing you can’t handle.
your never bring this up to your brother either. never would you deny him of a friend just because he has a very insatiable desire for you. boys will be boys! your friends say their siblings friends develop little crushes on them too. but jake’s feelings and wants for you are not little.
so, it’s no surprise that he calls you late at night after a night of drinking with your younger brother. overcome by the feeling of needing to hear his best friends older sister. just to settle him. that’s it.
your phone rings next to your pillow, pulling you from your slumber. it takes a minute for you to roll over, sighing when you pick up your phone and see ‘sim jake’ written across the screen.
“hmm? what is it?”
you know he’s been drinking. that’s why you don’t hesitate to answer. “Just…thinking about my noona.” his noona. you’re always referred to that way. his voice is slow and slurred, hinting at just how much he’s drank by now. “are you drunk?”
you have to say you're flattered. extremely. to be on his mind even when he’s drunk and has likely been around plenty of drunk women says a lot. “a lil- little bit..." you hear an exhale come through the speaker, and another noise follow. "jake, how much did you drink? do you need me to come get you?" you’re sitting up out of your bed, ready to throw on clothes and leave just incase he does need you. there’s a short pause before you hear his voice again.
“Can you- fuck... can you say my name again?" he sounds out of breath, and you can faintly hear some very suspicious sounds coming from the other end. those words mark a new boundary that’s been broken. adding to the multitude of broken boundaries. "what are you doing?" his tone sounded very suggestive, and it makes you stop, pressing your phone closer to your ear. "Thinkin' about you, noona..." he responds, and this time, he moans. "Jake..." you don’t mean to feed into him. not all all. you're just utterly shocked and at a loss for words. but most of all, worried about this would affect your relationship with him. "oh, fuck.” he's shameless in the way he moans, loud and whiny, begging you to say more. "tell me, noona..." he starts, moaning directly into your ear... "y-your panties...what color are they?"
“they’re…red..”
"ahhh, shit." you can hear him struggle with himself like he's imagining you in red panties , likely doing something lewd. "today...in the kitchen. did you like it? when I touched you?" ‘touched’ is too sweet of a word to describe what he did to you. groped, manhandled, fondled, is better. overpowering you when you tried to push his hands away from your chest, beg him to stop before your brother sees. tell him he must learn how to control himself.
“you cant...touch me like that...it isn’t right.” those are words you’ve said to him a million times before. words that go through one ear and out the other without a second thought. "cant help it. fuck, fuck, i'm so close! keep talking, please noona!" you can hear him increase speed in whatever he's doing, which, sounds exactly like he's jerking off.
"you're so pretty, too pretty, noona..." he rambles on in his fit of pleasure. telling you how much he wants to kiss you, and fuck you between very loud moans. "wish I could cum in you instead...agh! I gotta have you...gotta make you mine." his words bring heat to your cheeks despite the vulgarity of it all. "Jake..." you start, the other seemingly seconds apart from coming undone. "yes? yes, yes, noona!" he pants over the phone, whining and struggling to hold himself back from cumming before you get to respond. "maybe one day." those words from you are all it takes, a "fuck i'm gonna cum! i'm cumming! fuck!" being yelled into the speaker as he releases every pent up emotion he has for you in the form of one intense orgasm.
sim jaeyun, is way Out Of Bounds.
#enhypen smut#enhypen#jake sim#jake smut#cinnasweetss#sim jaeyun#smut#heavy themes#enhypen imagines#kpop bg#enha x reader#enha smut#enhypen jake#enhypen jaeyun#enhypen x reader#jake x reader
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Mike Schmidt x Reader
Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…
Summary: Prologue. How it all started.
Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.
Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,
And they were roommates…
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.
A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read
-———-———
Mike knows you, but not well.
You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.
Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.
You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.
You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.
You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.
“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”
Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.
You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.
When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.
Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.
So that’s how you can afford a place like this.
Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.
Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.
You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.
You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.
Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.
You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.
He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”
He remembers how you made him chuckle.
The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.
You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.
He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.
But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.
A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.
The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?
Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.
He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.
The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.
You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.
Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.
You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.
His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.
He has fun.
He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.
A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.
Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.
Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.
You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.
Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?
You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.
He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.
Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.
Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.
He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.
So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”
You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”
Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.
“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.
“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.
Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.
He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.
He doesn’t know what to do.
So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.
Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.
Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.
“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.
“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”
“Does she have medicine?”
“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”
“Does she have chicken soup?”
Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.
“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”
His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.
That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.
Tomorrow comes too soon.
Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.
You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.
At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.
He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.
In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.
You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.
Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.
"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"
That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"
You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"
Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"
You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.
You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.
It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.
Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.
Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.
Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.
A few weeks go by.
You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.
“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.
Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”
It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.
You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.
You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”
The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.
“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”
He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.
“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”
He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.
You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”
He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.
Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.
“You wanna move in with me?!”
Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.
He has fun.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#fnaf movie#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#josh hutcherson#mike schmidt imagine
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Loved the recent sukuna racer au 😭😭😭🩷🩷 can you elaborate a bit more on geto in the same racer au? 🥺🩷🩷🩷🩷
LLOROMANNIC
a/n: thx 4 this ask anon, this is rlly long bahaah i hope u enjoy! more context here. for recap, reader is in japan for an exchange programme.
wc: 4.3k
warnings: (fluff @ the start, smut comes in later) virginity loss, soft dom!geto, geto really really is obsessed w/ you, oral / cunnilingus (eats pussy like this! like i really don’t know what this position’s called), pet names, slight nipple play, clit stimulation, fingering, slight size kink, p -> v penetration, protected sex, n*sfw under the cut
no one really knows how the two of you became so close after that fateful meeting. they’re still wondering how you drew suguru in so effortlessly — some say you planned it, others say it was just by chance, but you’re not too sure yourself when all you can focus on is the racer beside you muttering into your skin a year after.
it was a(n almost) blissful six months when you first start out. that day he did keep his promise, winning the race without breaking a sweat and you cheer for geto unconsciously, catching the curious eyes of gojo and nanami who exchange looks — maybe you’d finally be the someone to capture geto’s heart.
geto made an effort to u-turn back to the corner he was parked in with the passenger side to you and he leans over to open it for you, but in return it just gathers more attention. “shall we go?” you try your best to escape the prying eyes of the tokyo crowd, and with a wave to the other two, geto is speeding off once you’ve gotten into the car.
“so… why’re you driving me there?”
“why cinnamoroll? berry and cherry’s a hundred times better.” he comments, and much to your dismay, he just answers your question with a less serious question than yours.
“why not?”
“well i mean…” was this man really about to lecture you on sanrio characters? his explanation is brief, but detailed, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh — although a snort still leaves you — just as he turns into the next carpark that you were supposed to go into instead and he’s asking what? like he didn’t just ramble about two sanrio demon characters.
“eh, it’s just cute that a scary, cool racer guy like you knows so much about sanrio.” you giggle when you watch him find an empty spot, and you’re trying to not let it affect you: the dragon that wraps around his bicep right to his forearm, the tense of his muscles, the addictive line of his jaw that trails all the way down to his collarbone—
you don’t notice your choice of words until geto uses that chance to fluster you instead.
“it’s just what?” he’s all up in your personal space like he was earlier before pulling away — a quiet, chilling tension that sends your hairs standing, left arm going behind your seat to park his car perfectly in the lot. his jawline is accentuated by how he turns behind to reverse (he hopes parking effortlessly would get you to like him more); suguru’s good at always making you want more, you realise that.
“cute.”
you’re mumbling and once he’s got the car in, his arm comes back round, a teasing hand pressed up to his ear. “what was that, hm?”
and maybe you were wrong to think he was being a decent person among the sneers and mockery of the crowd earlier, and you frown, thinking if you’d really want to entertain him. there’s a dilemma in you: what if he was just like the others, the loud, cocky ones who only ever cared about their cars? suguru looked just like the part, too, and if you weren’t careful, you’d probably end up being a trophy piece for him to bring around.
you just sigh. “thank you for driving me, geto-san.” it’s rigid as you say it, an inner turmoil within you; you hope it doesn’t show.
and he immediately regrets his silly question. he doesn’t blame you for standing your ground especially after the whole spectacle before the race started, watching in defeat as you slam the door to his Mazda a little harshly. hurriedly his eyes dart around the dashboard for paper, messily scribbling down an apology together with his number, along with some cash — he did promise to treat you to something in that cafe, but he was confident you’d want nothing to do with him; for now, anyway.
“hey, i’m uh— i’m sorry. it was out of line, enjoy the event, ’kay?” geto genuinely looked sorry, a sheepish smile spreading across his face and he hurries away before you can say anything. he’s lamenting over it upon returning, talking to gojo who could barely care and nanami who’s zoning out, about how you looked so innocent and stunning by simply sitting in his car.
and you? you’ve resorted to telling yourself how you’d only send a message to the mysterious number only after getting back home, after a shower, paper creased and unintelligible at some point that you almost typed in a ‘6’ in place of an ‘8’.
you’ve broken your own rule already once you’re stepping foot into your home because your finger immediately opens the empty chat, hovering over the button to send the message you’ve drafted two hours ago. your heart pounds and you feel dizzy — you never wanted to die so bad before.
suguru’s mood remains sour until later in the evening where an unknown number texts him with a faceless photo of a cup of cinnamoroll cappuccino and a crème brûlée with cinnamorll’s face on the caramelised sugar. he knows it’s you from the outfit you wore earlier and geto can’t help but smile, dwelling on what he could say to you that wouldn’t sound stupid.
god, geto was a racer. he was supposed to be cool and a natural at flirting, but he can’t believe he’s already deleted his drafted message for a fifth time, not noticing how you fluctuate between being online and off, too.
he doesn’t answer you like an idiot because while you’re nervous over the simple text, geto wants to tear his hair out — until he gets an idea; he’s off the bed in a minute, hastily grabbing his leather jacket and putting his hair into a bun.
eventually he manages to say something that sounds nonchalant.
[19:23, geto → UNKNOWN]: enjoy your cinnamoroll coffee?
suguru waits patiently when you type and stop, and type and stop, and he uses that time to sprint to his Mazda and to speed to a close-by 7-eleven. he was sure to find some sanrio merchandise in the store, face lighting up when he comes across a mediocre cinnamoroll keychain — and after a small battle with himself he also adds a duo berry and cherry keychain to the pile — he just needed to figure out when to give it to you.
a notification interrupts his daydreams.
[19:29, UNKNOWN → geto]: better without you here
he knows you’re joking with the way you send a sticker after.
[19:30, UNKNOWN → geto]: but thank you for the treat.
and for driving me
and for the number
geto chuckles, paying and leaving the store before he lets out a breath.
[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: want to come out for a drive? i really want to apologise for earlier
and every doubt ceases to exist, your contemplation ending right there, head snapping to your clock to look at the time. if you could get dressed fast enough—
[19:31, geto → UNKNOWN]: and also i just… want to get to know you
i’ll meet you at that same parking lot where we met. i’ll wait for you, okay?
—you could see the mysterious, brooding racer again. despite your outburst, you couldn’t deny the adrenaline you felt sitting in his car, bickering over which character was better, seeing the raise of his eyebrow on his attractive face. you don’t trust yourself to type anything else so you simply send a thumbs up emoji, jumping up to get ready in the darkening and freezing tokyo landscape.
shouting out an excuse, you bid goodbye to your parents and race out the door, white wisps of your hot breath appearing as you reach the car park in record time, seeing him nervously leaning against his Mazda. you smile. seems like you weren’t the only fidgety one.
“how’re you doin’?” geto clears his throat, but you just grin, getting into his passenger seat. the tips of your fingers tingle, you hoped the adrenaline would help you even a little.
“you called me out because you want to show off, right?” that loosens suguru a little, letting out a laugh at your unexpected comment.
“sure did.”
the next hours are spent speeding through the streets of shibuya, with you scared out of your mind at first. but when geto looks over to you with a blinding smile, you ease into his leather seats, slowly getting used to his sharp and precise turns.
geto is focused on drifting on specific turns, smile fading into a serious expression as he slams on the break and changes gear, steering the wheel sharply and you find yourself staring freely, a smile tugging on your lips at how so damn good he looked at the moment.
the night ends up with letting you try out the car for a bit, and even geto is surprised at himself because his RX-7 was something he cherished deeply, but to let someone try it was beyond him. he’s laughing with you, telling you that drift racers do not need to use turn signals and you burn in embarrassment, but other than that you have a good time, a quietness settling as he pulls up to your host home in japan.
“come to my next race?”
you bit your lip. you can’t lie, geto suguru is handsome as hell and you’re already hooked, unaware how the other wants you just as bad.
“sure thing, suguru.” the first name seems to catch him off-guard, even more so when you lean over the stick shift to peck his cheeks.
geto spends the next five minutes touching the skin where you kissed it, the loud rev of his engine reflecting exactly how he felt.
geto suguru was a goner.
every text, every call, every outfit (by god, geto did not care about what he wore, until he got with you) was for you. geto suguru was the gentlest with you, always asking if you’re okay with whatever he does. a hand on your waist, a peck to your cheek. he eases into the relationship, a plethora of night races lined up in his roster since he didn’t want you to miss any classes. nor could you underperform, because if your grades weren’t up to standard, you’d be sent home — your actual home back in your country. it came easy, though, apart from the sneaky makeout sessions in between geto telling you you used ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’ in your essays.
“y’know you don’t have to wear it, right?” geto laughs, placing a kiss to your temple while your mouth twists at the shape of the miniskirt, gifted to you by his sister who had worn it in the same scene, too. your boyfriend only whistles when you place it to your front, hands tightening just a little around your waist when he sees just how short it is.
“so?” you emerge from the bathroom a little while later, his oversized shirt on you looking a bit weird with the miniskirt but his breath hitches when you pull the top up, admiring the way the miniskirt hugged your figure so well. “i’m not sure if i like it, su…”
“that’s cause you’ll need other sort of tops, baby,” geto simply smiles, beckoning you over with a hand. it’s criminal how easily you follow the gesture, moving to stand between his legs. his rough hands leave hot trails of fire along your thighs, inching dangerously close to your ass.
“you’ll need,” an unsatisfactory kiss on the denim of your skirt, suguru frowns, “a crop top,” a kiss to your hip bone. “or maybe a halter,” a kiss to your other hip bone, “a tube top,” a kiss to your stomach, “or maybe even a cami?” the grin geto gives you is sickening sweet as he lists them off one by one, each kiss getting closer and closer, from your hands to your shoulders, until they finally reach your face and your heart is beating like you were in fucking seven minutes in heaven.
“how’d you know so much?” you’re twiddling with the hem of his oversized shirt.
geto exhales, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips, “when you’ve been racing underground for quite a bit… it’s easy to pick up on the fashion. but—” he melts all your worries away when he takes your cheeks in his hands, “but even if you weren’t dolled up, i’ll still be lookin’ at ya. you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room.”
“my prettiest girl.” suguru mumbles, getting lost in your lips again with a promise he’ll take you shopping the next day.
you ease into the miniskirts soon enough. though you don’t exactly abandon your old style, you also love the freedom of wearing teeny skirts with skin tight tops, legs and ass on display for all to see while geto simply smiles no matter what you wear. he thinks you look stunning either way.
“what do you think?” geto asks inwardly if you were really the same person who loved cinnamoroll, legs on display and safety shorts hugging your ass so well as you twirl around in your room — geto wasn’t opposed to just panties, either; he knows he can throw a decent punch. you’re donning the piece of apparel so well that he feels himself getting hard.
“i think my baby looks gorgeous,” suguru smiles, sauntering up to you before wrapping his bigger arms around your middle before coating your face and neck with kisses but your mind’s wandering into the gutter with how you can see both your figures in the mirror. you’re thinking just what it’ll be like to fog up the mirror with your shaky breaths as geto rams into you from behind, but you snap out of it before he notices, turning around in his embrace to land a kiss to his lips.
“a good luck kiss for my racer boy,” you giggle, hands getting lost in his hair. you’ve become more bold too, geto realises and he decides that maybe tonight he’ll have you before you leave to finish your university semester and his heart clenches at the thought of you leaving — six months is six months, after all. having to resort to facetimes and timezones and late night messages is the reality, but he’s willing to try.
if it’s you, he’ll try.
one thing led to the next; it was your miniskirt riding up your legs, it was the way you ran up to him after he wins, jumping into his arms knowing these were your last few days together. just like how you were obsessed with geto suguru, he was besotted with you.
“is this okay with you, (y/n)?” the way he says your name has you wishing he would do it over and over in that pleading voice of his — it’s just the first of many.
“you’ll be taking my first, suguru.” you mumble out as his lips trail from your jaw to neck, and it makes him freeze. maybe you shouldn’t hav—
“you want me to be your first?” geto asks breathlessly, like he’s been told he won the lottery. he couldn’t believe how you’ve been untouched this whole time, yet your sultry gazes and untamed hips say otherwise.
“you’re such a little minx, teasing me and shit, but you haven’t lost your virginity?” his fingers caress your cheek and you preen at his tone, leaning into his touch.
you hum and smile, “i never lose.” and you giggle when he laughs, capturing your lips in another kiss. the playful mood fades into the prior one, feeling the other get rougher with his kiss while his hands start to wander more.
“tell me to stop whenever and i’ll stop, okay, sweetheart?” you nod, squishing his face in your hands.
“i’ll be okay, su,” you grin before wrapping your legs around his pelvis, pulling him onto your needy cunt. he’s already hard, a dark spot forming at where his tip was. “i’ll be okay, especially when i fuck myself thinking it’s your cock.”
suguru’s jaw drops just a bit and he craves you even more by then, flipping up your skirt and pressing kisses along your thigh. he was determined to wipe the sick little grin off your face. he was determined to make you cum so hard you’d regret teasing him at all.
you hardly have any attitude for him once his tongue meets your pulsing clit and groans into your core, licking an experimental stripe up your folds. “better than your fingers?” suguru grins when he glances up and all he can see is your head thrown back, a subtle nod that’s got him back into feasting. he alternates between flicking your bud and sucking harshly, his calloused hands that you always admired around the steering wheel are now on your thighs, spreading them apart when you start to close them. by now your skirt’s soaked from how wet your pussy is, mewling and whining for your lover for more.
“you taste so fuckin’ good,” geto mumbles into your folds, giddy on the tangy sweetness of your juices that he has to reach down to squeeze his cock, “my girlfriend’s pussy tastes so good.”
“f-fuck… suguru don’t stop—” in the large bedroom, it’s filled with moans from you and the lewd sounds of your pussy, which escalate into a shriek when he’s suddenly pushing you up, weight transferred onto your shoulders and neck, not before making sure you have a pillow under you. “su—!”
“oh— ooh shit!” geto easily manhandles you as he props you up, your body bent uncomfortably while your hips continue to buck in his mouth and you aren’t sure where your legs go. it gives him better access to your cunt as he dips his tongue into your hole, nose nudging into your clit while you’re clutching onto his forearms for balance; his front supports you perfectly. geto’s onyx eyes bore into yours when he eats, moaning softly when he feels you clench around his tongue.
“you close?” he commits you to memory: how your toes curl and your stomach contracts. how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he feels so tense too, cock twitching in his underwear that it’s begging to be in you. “my baby’s g’nna cum, hm?”
“y-yes— ’m close mmf...” you can hardly manage a nod, moans escaping in between one worded sentences and you’re sure your legs are shaking from how good geto was giving it to you. with the hands that spread you out, one goes to your nipple to pinch it while the other plays with your clit, pressing and rubbing on it and a choked suguru leaves your lips.
“cum,” the one word has so much command over you, paired with the ministrations he was so skilled at that you’re clenching around air when you reach your high, euphoria crashing down on you with how you see white and your body feels tired already. “that’s my pretty girl, god, you’re cumming s’much.”
it takes awhile for you to come down from your orgasm, but despite your fatigue you already find yourself wanting more when you shoot geto a grin, heart fluttering at how he massages your thighs and bring you back down.
“you okay?” geto mumbles, pecking your knee softly, inwardly smiling at the way your legs still jolt and shake at your climax, “got my princess shakin’ and all.”
you giggle before you’re pulling him toward you, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss deepens, jumping a little when geto slips in a finger easily. you’re easily moaning into the kiss, reeling from just how one finger feels in you, slipping in so easily just how soaked your cunt was.
gotta prep you for me, ‘kay? he whispers against your lips before a second goes in and you have to break the kiss to whimper. relax, baby, suguru’s voice is so intoxicating that you’re doing the exact opposite. you’re so tight that geto has to take a moment, imagining what you’ll feel like around him, but it’s not long before you’re begging for more that he starts moving his fingers into your cunt.
they are soft, gentle on you that you’re already tugging on his waistband, swallowing geto’s chuckle and comment about just how eager you are. in that bedroom, you’ve gotten him on his knees just by existing, pussy still drooling and your body contorted in such sensuality that he’s already worshipping you unconsciously. you gasp a little when he finally removes his underwear, eyes fixated on the pretty dick he’s got in his hand, leaking so much pre-cum just from eating you out. he makes quick work to grab a condom out from his bedside drawer.
“i’ll make it fit. gotta relax, yeah?” he hums into your skin before he rolls the condom over his cock as you watch, impatient. along with some lube, he smears your juices around with his tip, relishing in how you squeeze his forearms.
and when geto suguru sinks into you for the first time, tip nudging past your folds and stretching you out at first, a long whine leaves you just as geto groans out because you’re so warm inside that it’s got him dizzy. your eyes try to flutter close but geto mumbles that he wants to see how good he makes you feel, body hovering over yours like it’s forbidden. but he knows if he sinks into you with the feel of your tits on him, he wouldn’t last.
“s’big, suguru— ah!” eyes struggling to stay open, your arms hang around his neck, the feel of the rubber in you not entirely pleasant but suguru hitting all your spots is enough to make up for it. you’re just dripping and dripping non-stop that it leaks right down to the sheets before the other bottoms out in you, a teasing grin on his face. “told ya it could fit.” the stretch is borderline painful, and like a good boyfriend, he waits for a few to get you accustomed.
you roll your eyes with a soft smile, taking deep breaths before you feel like you could handle him, “move, please…”
“gettin' to it, my love,” geto’s cock is so big you swear you can feel him in your stomach, mouth dropping open when he moves slowly, grunting at your clamping hole, “i don’t think i can last long, baby.”
you breathlessly laugh, “yeah, me e-either.” your back arches off the bed as suguru starts to find a pace, thighs already burning from the taut pull of his muscles, something he’s done unconsciously because of how divine your cunt felt. with a hand you’re rubbing at your clit, evident it’s your first time when your hips are already bucking in mini shockwaves, sucking in his length that it’s not long before you’re moving your pelvis to meet his.
there’s the squelching noises of your pussy and little pants leaving you, pussy already convulsing around him with the release of the twist in your stomach. you’re clenching as you cum hard on his cock and it drives the other crazy, the tightness of your entrance that restricts his movement that he settles for short thrusts just to orgasm, spilling heavy loads of cum into the condom. geto groans into thin air, hips stuttering and pulling out incase there’s a rip in the rubber. it’s obvious you’re still unfamiliar with each other’s body in such an intimate setting, stuttered apologies and cleared throats, but soon geto’s leaning down to lock lips with you to quell the first-time awkwardness.
“was that okay? are you hurt anywhere?” you shake your head with a smile.
“that was more than okay, suguru,” you’re sleepy from the race, from the late night, and it’s clear all you want is sleep. it’s clear when you melt into suguru’s embrace and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest when you find his hand to twine your fingers together, with his other one rubbing your thigh affectionately.
geto feels that same feeling paired with a certain dread when two weeks later you’re kissing him goodbye at the airport, pink luggage in hand while your nose starts to redden a little. you always know what to say, slowly getting used to geto’s habits. a huff when he’s annoyed, or a quick furrow of his eyebrows when he’s distraught. “it’s not the end of the world, baby.”
suguru only pouts, hands caressing your sides just outside the departure gate. “i know, i just— six months?”
“you’ll survive,” you smile softly, brushing the bangs from his face, “you did it before me.”
“i know, but now that i’ve known you, you’re all i think about,” geto huffs, “i…”
there’s many more things he wants to say, how he’ll be sure to keep your things until you return, how thankful he is that you (willingly!) gave him an underwear of yours, how he struggles to breathe just seeing your name. he just hopes you’ll miss him just as much, but he restrains himself knowing your flight’s in an hour.
“you’re all i think about, too,” you mumble and swallow uncomfortably, ashamed to have tears already brimming at your eyes, “i’ll come right back after i finish the sem, alright?”
“i’ll hold you to that.” geto smiles, although it’s laced with a sadness, kissing you softly one last time and bearing himself for the countless texts and video calls to your foreign number. you both can taste the salt in your tears, sniffling like a lovesick fool at the immense feelings you have for this man.
love. you haven’t even said the words yet.
as the racer watches you pass through the departure doors, he gives one last glance to the cherry keychain hanging off your carry-on, giving a similar longing glance to the matching berry one on his bag.
geto leaves the airport before anyone can see the wetness in his eyes, too.
#anon#asks#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk x you#jjk drabbles#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen getou#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto suguru fluff#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#jjk x reader#suguru geto smut
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punishment w/ poly!woosan
words - idk but it’s not long
genre - smut
warnings - degradation, thigh riding, dom!woosan, sub!reader, edging, dacryphilia, they’re mean
choking on my SPIT RN!!!!!!
like i’m sorry but san would just sit and watch wooyoung be literally so mean to you with a smirk on his face, and when you turn to him for help he’s just coo in the most condescending way I FEEL SICK AHHHHHHH.
like imagine, wooyoung just has you naked on his lap with his hands on your hips as he gets you to ride his thigh. you’ve been at it for ages now and every time you’re close to cumming, he just pins you in place and watches you squirm as your impending orgasm floats away into nothingness. you’re crying by this point, and all he can do it spit out his evil little words.
“fucking slut needs to learn a little patience,” he frowns as you let out a sob at yet another lost orgasm, “i’m serious. maybe we spoil you too much if this has you crying like a baby.”
you shake your head with a sniffle, completely denying his accusations even though you know it’s true. they’re too nice to you, even when you’re being a little brat. perhaps you flew a little too close to the sun today, thinking you’d get away with it. you should’ve known there’d be consequences sooner or later.
you let out another cry as wooyoung begins to guide your hips again, rubbing your bare pussy up and down the fabric of his pants. there’s barely any resistance anymore with how much of your wetness now coats it. the sound it makes as you rub up against it is humiliating, but wooyoung just smirks like it’s music to his ears.
“hear that sannie?” he calls out to the man who lays on the couch behind the two of you, simply grinning at you as he palms himself through his pants, “she’s so fucking wet right now, anyone would think she’s enjoying this punishment!”
you sob as wooyoung flexes his thigh against your oversensitive clit and san lets out a dark chuckle.
“poor little baby, hm?” his voice drips in sarcasm, “you don’t like it when we’re mean, do you? don’t like it when we have to take control because you think you’re too good to listen to us?” you nod in agreement. san just laughs, “your slick little cunt says different.”
you cry out as wooyoung speeds up, somehow knowing that another orgasm is quickly approaching. this time he shows no sign of slowing at all so maybe this time he’ll let you cum. you mentally cross your fingers as you place your palms flat on his chest and screw up the material of his shirt in your hands.
“maybe, if she hates it so much, she should’ve thought about that before she was bad,” wooyoung spits out as he watches your eyes roll into the back of your head and your jaw go slack. he listens carefully for the very start of a high pitched moan that he knows means you’ve reached your high, and then he stills. your orgasm comes crashing to the floor, once again abandoning you when you were right on the cusp.
you hiccup out a sob as you collapse onto wooyoung’s chest. he catches you in his arms, letting go of the harsh grasp he has on your hips, and his shirt catches your tears. you can only hope it’s not one of his expensive ones as you use it to wipe at your mess of a face.
“aw, babe,” san coos, “have you had enough now? does our precious girl need to cum?”
you nod as you sob into wooyoung’s chest, and you’re grateful for the way he pats your back, even though you can hear the chuckle that’s rumbling around his chest.
“go on then, baby,” he mumbles into your ear, “show us how bad you want it.”
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Hear me out whiny!Ethan landry fic or headcannon
whiny!ethan landry headcannon
• he is perhaps the most vocal man you’ve ever met
• but you’d better be sure his whines and moans are music to your ears
• as uni students, you both spend enormous amounts of time on your individual classes, which can lead to time spent away from each other
“pleaseee will you touch me mommy (im sorry i had to slip it in), I promise I’ll make you feel so good, i swear”
you’re sitting cross cross on his bed, working intently on your laptop while he lays behind you, pressing soft kisses to your neck
and obviously him moaning and begging in your ear has you feeling some kind of way, but you really do need to focus
once he realizes he needs to wait a while until your attention can be on him, he gets a bit restless, and lets out a sigh of defeat as you continue typing away
• this man is actually such a slut for you, it’s insane he gets anything done since you two got together
• part of being whiny means ethan being so needy for you, no matter where he is
• even if it’s inconvenient for him to be touching you anywhere, he will beg and whine for you to let him, either until he gets to touch you, or until you punish him for being desperate
“please, please, let me eat your pussy…” “ethan, we’re in the library” “…no one’s around, and i won’t make any noises, i promise”
he’s always so eager to touch you, whenever and wherever he can. doesn’t even need to be sexual
“…sweetheart, you don’t always have to hold my hand,” you look down at your conjoined hands with a pointed look on your face. “i know, but i just want to be near you,” he practically pouts
will get pouty and whiny if you don’t let him touch you, and will act bratty until you let him
• i have to mention this man’s moans and whines
• as i’ve mentioned, he’s very vocal, and when he’s desperate for anything, it goes up 10x
he’ll practically be screaming in bed, especially when he’s close, and loses his breath quickly doing so
this results in the the lewdest and loudest whines and moans you have ever heard, and they’re truthfully enough to have your pussy throbbing
but oh. good. lord. when it comes to pegging, this man is extraordinarily vocal
with his back arching, ass pressing against you as he moans out and clenches around the strap, his poor brain can’t decide if it wants you to slow down, or speed up and wreck him
this conflict results in ethan just losing his ability to speak, and his brain turns numb and can only let out whines and whimpers for you
• he’s so big on being praised, and the slightest stroke on his face combined with a soft praise has him preening in your hands
• ethan landry has the BIGGEST praise kink known to man, and will beg and whine for more praises to poor from your mouth, no matter what you’re doing
he can truly cum just from you praising him, and he knows this, and begs for you to praise him, just so your voice can get him closer
• when he has to restrain himself (either from cumming or from touching you or himself), he starts to whine for your touch and your help
“fuck mommy please, i cant last much longer,” he’s been lying on your bed naked, watching you watch him as he falls apart while you touch yourself
he can feel himself getting closer without even touching himself as he watches you touch your pussy, whining out when you moan his name
• although he likes being praised, and as i’ve said, can get off solely on it, he’s big on being degraded
trust me when i tell you there is NOTHING like ethan sobbing and whining as you degrade him
although he knows he shouldn’t like it as much as he does when you call bim degrading names, he can’t help but moan out and whine for you to keep doing it
“baby look at you, nothing but a fucking whore for mommy, only here for my pleasure, huh?” your words make his back arch as he whines out broken cries and screams of “mommy!”, desperately holding on to any sanity he has
• he is such a simple minded teen boy, that anything to do with you has him whining and writhing just for you, and only you
• he truly is a slut for you, and holy shit, does he earn that title
————————————————————————
it is incredibly late after a long day, yet this writing was much needed, PLEASE keep the ethan requests coming!! 🫶🫶
#subbypeterparker#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#sub ethan landry#sub!ethan landry#scream smut#jack champion#jack champion smut
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Your Boyfriends A B*tch
Who would’ve thought that crying over your shitty boyfriend would turn into you crying because of your best friend's dick.
Pairing: BestFriend!Eren x Reader
Warnings: NSFW, name calling, pet names, implied oral (f. receving), multiple orgasms, choking, Eren gets mean, cheating (kinda but not really), different positions, creampie, unprotected sex.
Word count: 1.4K
______________
Who would’ve guessed you’d be spending your Friday night in tears, well Eren kind of did.
He almost expected this to happen, your boyfriend pisses you off, y’all break up, you call eren to comfort you, you get back with your boyfriend and the cycle repeats itself.
So it was no shock to Eren when your contact flashes on his screen, he doesn’t hesitate to text you back instantly.
He chuckles and shakes his head at the situation and gets himself ready before he heads out.
“I knew that would happen again.” He says to himself, locking the door to his apartment.
Now it’s not like he doesn’t want to come over, one of his favorite things to do is be around you, it would just be nice if it wasn’t because of your stupid boyfriend.
He doesn’t even deserve the title, but Eren isn’t one to interfere with his friends' love lives. He wouldn’t want someone in his business so why would he be in theirs. You know in a way he should thank your boyfriend for being such a fuck up. If it weren’t for him he wouldn’t have you bent over and cumming on his dick for like the third time.
Eren’s intentions were never to fuck you like this, so vulnerable and desperate for love and attention. How can he pass up such a beautiful opportunity when your pussy is sucking him in so nicely.
Maybe he can fuck you hard enough and make you forget about that dumb bitches name and you can see that he’s the one for you instead.
“That’s it my pretty baby, go on and come again for me.” He says in your ear as he pounds into your dripping cunt.
“E-eren, we shouldn’t b-be doing this!” You manage to say, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as his thrust pick up
“Oh now we shouldn’t be doing this? You’re so sweet but so stupid.” He says through gritted teeth, pulling you up so your back is against his chest.
You moan in pleasure at the new angle and gasp as he wraps one his large hands around your throat, gently biting down on your ear.
“You think your punk ass boyfriend took your feelings into consideration, hmm?” He asks, slowly trailing his free hand down your tummy to your puffy clit.
You let out a whine in response when his fingers rub slow circles on your clit and he squeezes your throat tighter, slowing down the speed of his hips.
“Eren!” You beg, trying to push back onto him and end up on your back.
“I asked you a question, did I not?” He asks, pushing your legs up to your chest, rubbing his angry red tip on your clit, biting his lip as the head of his dick teases your soaking hole.
“N-no, he didn’t take my feelings into consideration.” You say quietly
He flashes you a pretty smile and pushes himself inside your dripping cunt all at once. He instantly starts drilling his hips against yours without letting up.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he reaches deep inside of you, deeper than your ex ever could. You look uo and almost come at the sight in front of you.
Eren’s holding your legs up to your chest, pumping his dick inside of you quickly. His long brown hair tied up in a bun that moves with each thrust, pretty green eyes shut tightly as he gets close to cumming.
Those soft pink lips are still slightly wet from your first orgasm of the night. You love the way his abs flex each time he fucks into you, but the thing you love the absolute most is his pretty gold necklace.
He’s worn it ever since you’ve known him, a gold chain with an Aries pendant. You love it and you always have, and you really love the way the pendant dangles over your face and chest.
“E-eren” You look up at him with a desperate look in your eyes as you feel yourself getting close to the edge.
“Awe is the stupid girl gonna come? Are you gonna come all over this dick princess?” He teasingly asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb on your clit.
You nod your head and let out a squeal when he wraps a hand around your throat and leans down so his face is inches from yours.
“You don't know how to answer a question? You’re so fucking rude.” He rubs his thumb in quicker circles and smirks when you begin babbling.
On the outside Eren seems cool and collected, when in reality he’s losing hs shit. He’s really fucking the love of his life, finally getting the luxury to know what you look like when you come undone.
“R-ren, coming!” You exclaim, your cunt tightening around his dick as your orgasm takes over your body.
Your back arches and your toes curl from the intensity of your orgasm, your mouth falls open into the shape of an ‘o’ and Eren presses his lips to yours as you let out a mantra of moans.
Eren slows his hips down and pulls out of you slowly, pressing his forehead against your own. You rub his cheek with your thumb and pout as his dick twitches.
“You didn’t get to come.” You whisper, your voice becoming hoarse from all the moaning and shouting.
“I’m okay, as long as you feel good that’s what matters.” He smiles and rubs your cheek with his thumb, but that doesn’t satisfy you.
You push him onto his back and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. You give him a smile and grab the base of his dick, you slide down on him and he hisses in response.
“Fuck baby, you’re going to be the absolute death of me.” He bites his lip and his hands find their way to your hips.
He guides you back and forth on him at a slow pace, loving the way you feel around him. He throws his head back when your sensitive cunt tightens around his dick. You bend down and connect your lips together in a passionate kiss, you place your hand on his shoulders and bounce faster.
“Fuck! Y-your pussy feels so good baby!” He lets out a loud groan and squeezes your hips in his hands
“L-love the way y-you feel eren!” You hide your face in his neck and roll your hips
He thrust up into you and began pistoning his hips as he felt his orgasm approaching.
“B-baby I’m close, n-need to fill you up.” He says as his thrust gets sloppier.
“Fill me up Ren, come deep inside of me baby. Please give it to me, I-I want you to fill me up.” You hold his face and kiss him hard, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth.
He looks into your eyes and loses it, he holds you against him and ruts into you. thick ropes of his warm come fill you up. You both let out moans and whimpers as you come together. His head falls back onto the pillow and he looks up at you with a weak smile.
“I’m sorry I called you stupid. I didn’t mean any of it.” He mumbles, tracing over the shape of your lips.
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. You’re not wrong though, I keep taking him back and getting my heart broken.”
“You deserve so much better, I’m not saying it’s me, but I’m definitely saying it's me.” You two share a laugh and he rubs small circles on your back.
“Well considering the fact I just got out of a messy relationship, I’m gonna wait before I date again.” You run your fingers through his brown locks and he rests his cheek against the palm of your hand.
“As long as I’m the only one who gets to see that fine ass in all of its glory and nobody else is coming inside of you I’ll take it.
“Deal.” You giggle and press your lips against his once more before you cuddle up next to him and drift off into a deep slumber.
Bonus: Eren gets an ego boost the next day when your ex shows up. He’s dressed up, holding a bouquet of flowers and your favorite candy, smile dropping as a shirtless and marked up Eren answers the door.
“I-Is y/n here?” Your ex nervously asks and eren nods his head.
“Yeah she’s here. We had a long night last night though so I’m not sure when she’ll wake up. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Bye now!” Eren begins closing the door.
“Can I just tell her-” Your ex tries to peek into the apartment to see if you’re in there.
“Bye now!” Eren closes and locks the door, rolling his eyes once the doors close.
“What a bitch.”
-Ari
#aot smut#aot#aot x black reader#aot x reader#aot x y/n#eren x reader#eren yaeger smut#eren yaeger x reader
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Lando Norris + inexperienced reader corruption kink. That’s it. That’s the prompt.
anon i had to write a little more than just my thoughts for this bc i genuinely couldn’t think for a second when you sent this in
“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you.”
lando’s voice is low as he strips you of your shirt, gentle with every touch he lays on your timid frame. you’d had the conversation with lando at the start of your relationship, that you hadn’t slept with someone before and you weren’t quite ready. he respected you completely, but god he couldn’t ignore the heat that rose in his stomach when he thought of being your first.
when you’d come to him that morning to let him know you wanted him, all the way, he tried desperately not to jump on you. but he took his time, wanting to make it perfect. a nice dinner, some candles, ambient lightly. and then there you were, in your white cotton panties and he wants to devour you whole.
“are you sure about this?” lando asks for the fifth time, hovering above you with his toned chest and gentle eyes. you nod, more sure than you’ve ever been in your life, but he nudges your leg with his knee. “gonna need some words.”
“m’sure, lando. please.”
the soft whine in the back of your throat makes his knees wobble, lips attaching to your neck in an instant. once he’s in it, he’s done for. as much as he’d like to make sure he’s a gentle as possible with you, there’s a hunger growing in him he’s not sure he can ignore.
“fuck. jesus, baby,” his head falls to the pillow beside you as soon as he slips inside your heat. “so fucking tight.”
the stretch of his cock is divine, even the initial sting when he enters you, hands grasping at his strong back to ground yourself from the wave of intense pleasure. lando pulls back to look down at you, your eyes fluttered close and cheeks flushed as you curse his name quietly.
“jesus christ,” lando moans, hips shifting to thrust up into you. you curl into him, clouding his mind as he grips your waist, resisting the urge not to ruin you. “you’re so good, darling. so nice an’ warm for me — all mine.”
you can barely speak, only whimpers and faint moans of lando’s name filling the room the harder he fucks you, tip brushing that heavenly spot deep inside of you. lando’s eyes cloud red, thoughts racing the more he watches you writhe in pleasure.
“so tight, fuck. m’the first to stretch you out, huh?” lando moans breathlessly, hips stuttering when your walls clench around him. “making you all dirty, aren’t i? such an angel for everyone and then you turn into a slut in bed, hm?”
for a moment, his words slip out quicker than he means them to. but when they pull only louder moans from you, he knows he’s in deep.
“you like that, baby?” he whispers, gently nibbling at the skin of your throat, fingers teasing your clit with every thrust deeper into your. “no one’s ever gonna make you feel this good. only me, you’re all mine. mine to ruin.”
“yes, yes. yours, lando,” you gasp out. “i’m yours.”
his thrusts speed up, chasing the orgasm that your words spur on. once he feels your own high hit, your back arching into him and legs shaking against his own, he quickly pulls out. his hot, white load shoots onto your bare stomach in abundance, covering your soft skin with his sticky cum. it’s a sight he needs to have hung on his wall — his corruption painted on your flesh, chest still reeling from your orgasm.
“fucking hell, love,” lando whispers, softly kissing you. “i’m gonna make you cum five more times before bed if i get to see your pretty little eyes rolling back again.”
#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris blurb#lando norris drabble#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris x reader
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circle k (back to you)
summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.
━ chapter one: on my way to circle k
━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader
━ word count: 4.3k
━ warnings: none
━ masterlist
The Slurpee machine is broken again.
It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage.
But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth.
You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows.
You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits.
You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying.
Oh, great, who is it now—
You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice.
You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”
Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.
In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder.
“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”
A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”
He laughs. “I bet!”
You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged.
“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”
He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs.
“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”
“Let me guess—Trickster?”
He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”
“It’s dripping.”
“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit.
You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City.
You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”
“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”
“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”
Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”
“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”
“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”
You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”
You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)
But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman.
No rest for the wicked and all.
“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that.
Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”
“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”
He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”
You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”
Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”
“Not today, sorry.”
He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are.
“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static.
True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry.
You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you.
“Thanks.”
He winks. “My pleasure.”
He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.
“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff.
He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”
“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”
Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him.
Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”
Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth.
Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this.
You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly.
“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”
“Flash.”
He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”
“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way.
You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”
“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”
A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”
“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”
He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”
Red Robin huffs.
Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”
Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance.
You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.
A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you.
At least you got to see Flash again.
You don’t see him again, which is what you expected.
What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night.
You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them.
Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger.
(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)
So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary.
It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is.
For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet.
“Is there something—”
“Do you have any—”
You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.
“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.
You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”
He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”
Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.
You keep your face straight, though.
Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys.
He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.
“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”
How did he—?
Must be the detective thing.
You apologize anyway.
“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.
“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better.
“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.”
“Thanks.”
You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.
Ugh. What is with you?
It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.
You shake your head briefly.
You should think more on why he’s even here.
Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.
Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.
Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is.
(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)
Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.
There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own.
You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary.
So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”
“I’m not talking about that.”
He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative.
“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”
You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”
“I’m not—”
You try to level with him.
“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”
“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.
You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”
“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”
He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.
You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”
“What year?”
“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”
He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night.
The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.
These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly.
You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.
The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind.
So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven.
The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night.
Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence.
Frequently.
And the first time…
You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.
A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes.
But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?
Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.
Suspicion wins out, though.
Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.
It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.
It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights.
But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)
Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.
The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.
People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…
You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham.
Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.
The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”
“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself.
Well, that’s—
Hm.
A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.
“I’m from Metropolis, actually.”
Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something.
Flash grins at you. “Liar.”
You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.
To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.
“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”
You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…
“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”
“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.
“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”
You blink. “The League…?”
“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”
“Should you be telling me that?”
He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee.
“I mean, what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”
“Oh, really?”
“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”
“That is true. You a journalist?”
“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”
Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?
“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash.
“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”
“How’s that?”
He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”
“You’re appealing to my morals?”
“Yes. Is it working?”
“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”
“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”
You tell him. He extends a hand.
“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”
A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”
Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.
Well, then.
Talk about a first impression.
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#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#dc comics imagine#tim drake imagine#red robin imagine#dc comics x reader#tim drake x you#red robin x you#tim drake x y/n#red robin x y/n#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#batfam x you#batfam x y/n
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My mind is filled with Waka being a brat tamer🤭
𐙚 Pairing: Wakasa Imaushi x fem!reader
𐙚 CW: Dom waka, brat reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, slapping, pet names, jealousy, mean Waka
𐙚 18+ MDNI [n]sfw
𐙚 Word Count: 1.1k
𐙚AN: not proof read.
𐙚 To say Waka was shocked you were less than thrilled to see him at your door was an understatement. “What? Not happy to see me darlin’?” You roll your eyes “Don’t call me that” Wakas eyes widen slightly. Usually you love whatever pet name he calls you. You turn and walk into your apartment leaving the door open so he can follow.
𐙚 You haven’t seen each other in a few weeks and if he knew that he it would cause you to have attitude with him he would of came to see you sooner.
𐙚 You and Wakasa have a simple arrangement. When he shows up or calls you know its to fuck. He never contacts you for anything else. You’re fine with this. You get free sex and sex with Waka is always good but today you are not in the mood to see him. You’ve been pissy since you woke up. Everything that could go bad today did and you are just ready to crawl in bed and forget about it.
𐙚 You ignore him as he talks to you, rolling your eyes every few words. He asked you something. You weren’t listening so you just clicked your tongue and turned your head away from him.
𐙚 Before you can even register what is going on your back connects to the wall and Waka has his hand around your throat, he is so close your noses are almost touching. “I’m tired of the fucking attitude. Now are you going to let me fuck this tight pussy or am I going to have to find some other bitch to get me off?”
𐙚 Your eyes widen slightly before going back to normal. You chuckle, smirking at him. “You find one of your other bitches then, not like you can fuck me goodenough anyway.”
𐙚 Wakasa lets out a growl before his mouth is on your in a heated kiss. You feel him squeeze your neck. Not tight enough to hurt you but enough to cut off air for a second. His tongue slips in your mouth and you fight for dominance but he wins when he squeezes your neck again. You let a moan slip past your lips and he smirks against you.
𐙚 He pulls you from the wall walking backwards towards your bedroom. Once inside he pushes you down on the bed standing over you readjusting himself. “You going to be a good girl and suck my cock?”
𐙚 “I’ll bite it” “no you won't. Not if you want to come too” He tells you to strip. You roll your eyes at him but can’t ignore the way it made your pussy clench. “Take them off yourself” Waka tilts his head to the side and smirks down at you “Still wanna be a brat I see” he says while running his hand up your bare thigh stopping right at the bottom of your skirt. “That's fine” his hand slides high fingers under your skirt “I only really need one thing off” he says as he strokes your clothed pussy before pushing your panties to the side and finding your clit.
𐙚 You bite your lip trying to hold back a moan when he adds more pressure and speeds up his movements. He pokes a finger at your entrance feeling how wet you are. He groans at the feeling. “Soaked and just from a little petting” he mocks. You harden your gaze at him glaring. He chuckles before shoving his finger in starting slow but building his pace, curling his finger at just the right spot. “You going to be my good girl now?” He adds a second finger this time no matter how hard you bite your lip a moan falls from you. “There she is”
𐙚 Your legs are shaking, your biting your lip so hard you can taste blood when an idea pops into your head. “Omi fingers me better” All movements stop. You want to whine at the loss of pleasure but your pride won’t let you. “What did you just say, princess?”
𐙚 “I said Omi fingers me better. He has thicker and longer fingers than you. Now that I think about it he fucks me better too.”
𐙚 “That so” He says through gritted teeth before he grabs your hips flipping you over on all fours. “Ass up” he pushes your face into the mattress, flipping your skirt over your plump ass before delivering a hard slap. “You wanna be a whore, I’ll fuck you like a whore” He grips your panties pushing them to the side as he frees himself from his pants hissing as the cool air hits him.
𐙚 “Your going to take my cock like a good girl and your going to thank me for it” He shoves himself into you, no warning, no time to adjust as he starts a brutal pace. He’s gripping your hips so hard you know it’s going to bruise but you don’t care it feels so good. Waka has never fucked you hard. It’s always been sweet, almost loving. If you didn’t know Waka better you’d think he was in love with you.
𐙚 “Take it” he says as his fingers find your clit. “Your going to come on my cock and milk me for everything I’ve got” you moan into the bed, hands balling into fists, clenching the sheets. You're so full. It’s been so long since he visited you forgot how well he fills you up.
𐙚 You feel your release building. Your moaning and drooling into the mattress when everything stops. Waka is shallowly thrusting into you and his fingers are off of you. “No” you whine “Your going to beg if you want to come. Beg like a bitch in heat.” your pride doesn’t want you to. If you had more willpower you wouldn’t but fuck you were right there. “Please” “You can do better than that” he says delivering a hash thrust than going back to shallow
𐙚 “Please waka, please let me come. Let me milk your cock, fill me up like I’m your little slut, just please let me come” You beg tears rolling down your cheeks as you cry into the sheets pray he gives you your release.
𐙚 “That's more like it” his fingers are on you again and his fast deep thrust are back. “Come” He demands. You’re moaning and scream his name repeating it like it's the only word you know. Probably because right now it is. Your legs are shaking as your release washes over you. The feeling of you clenching his cock is enough to push him over the edge. He fills you up telling you to take it all like the good girl he knows you are.
𐙚 You both lay there catching your breath when Waka walks away. He comes back a few minutes later, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom, stripping you of your clothes. He lays you down in a warm bath rubbing your back, working out any knots. He kisses you “See you are my good girl”
#tokyo revengers#imaushi wakasa#wakasa imaushi#tokyo revengers x reader#wakasa imaushi x reader#tokyo revengers x y/n#wakasa x reader#wakasa smut#wakasa imagines#wakasa imaushi smut#wakasa imaushi x yn#wakasa imaushi x y/n#wakasa imaushi x you#imaushi tokyo revengers#imaushi wakasa x reader#imaushi wakasa x yn#imaushi wakasa x you#imaushi wakasa smut#tokyo revengers x yn#tokyo revengers x you#♡~mazie is talking~♡
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Yandere ROTTMNT Vampire Headcanons
A/N, not important: I am so sorry this is so late. I haven't been doing very well lately. I have one more vampire thing in the works, and I'm also going to start getting as many of my requests done as possible. Feel free to ask questions if you need clarification or want a certain thing answered. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: Food insecurity, withholding of food, vampires, bites, dark themes, violence, yandere
Words: 1696
Summary: Yandere ROTTMNT Vampire Headcanons
Tag list: @f1oricide @itsyagurlchip @lordfreg @acutiewithagun @rottmnttmnt2012 @lixnininotnay
Michelangelo:
Mikey tries to hide it from you for a while, mostly because he doesn’t want you to be aware of his added abilities. He thinks it’s just funny now when you try to plot an escape or fight back, since now you really have no chance. Most likely, you never even realized he was a vampire until he first sinks his fangs in your wrist.
He thinks biting you is like, subtly romantic since you’re more or less blessing him with your blood. You’re allowing him to live off your own life, and it just pulls him further into his delusions of love. Obviously you’d fight back harder if you truly hated him. I mean, so far, he only has to chain you down!
Mikey will constantly talk about your future with him. Now that he’s going to live forever, he knows he actually means it when he says he’s never leaving your side. He’ll track down the original mutant to get them to infect you, ensuring that you’ll be with him until the sun goes out. He’s absolutely giddy at the thought, updating you every day on his hunt for the mutant until he finds them.
Before he can infect you, he’s even clingier than before. His skin always feels cold now, so he’s drawn to your natural warmth and just likes to be near you.
Watches you sleep a lot as he lays with you. Now that he can see in the dark, he doesn’t want to waste a single moment where he could be admiring you.
Once he finally turns you, he’s ecstatic. His only grief is that he can’t feed from you any more, but he’s plenty happy with the certainty you’ll never be able to leave him.
If you complain about being turned, he’ll get upset. He did this for you! He ensured both of you would be together forever more, and now you’re being ungrateful. He’ll pout for a while, trying to convince you of all the ways your life is better now.
He’ll withhold blood from you if you misbehave. Because you obviously can’t hunt yourself, you rely on Mikey to get you your food. If he thinks you’re being unfair, or aren’t listening, he’ll conveniently ‘forget’ to get enough food to feed you as well.
He gets surprised when you fight back more after being turned, your enhanced strength and speed making him question his choice for a small while. He doesn’t like that you have a better chance of leaving now. He obviously wins, but he’s afraid he’ll slip up and you’ll get away. He keeps you chained tighter for a while, at least until you’ve calmed down. No matter how long that takes.
Donatello:
He doesn’t tell you of his new infection, but he doesn’t hide it either. It’s just another mutation to him, one that’s more beneficial in a lot of ways once he realizes how much more he can do. He doesn’t really see why he should tell you, especially when you’re fighting him at every turn anyways. You’ll probably find out after seeing him storing blood bags in the fridge in his lab, which causes you to freak out.
Once you’re aware he’s a vampire, he’ll start feeding off you more since he finds it more convenient than going out. He likes holding you and just sinking his teeth into your shoulder while he works. It keeps you both still and close, and it prevents him from having to find his own food. He claims the prolonged contact helps you both bond whenever you try to fight him.
Donnie is obsessed with getting you infected as well. He’s terrified of losing you somehow now that he knows he doesn’t ever have to. He’ll hunt down the original mutant to get you bit, not even telling you of his plan until you’re already bit. He doesn’t want to give you a chance to try something stupid before he’s able to secure your place by his side, even if he knows he won’t be able to feed on you anymore.
He has two new punishments for you now that you joined him in the undead. While he isn’t afraid to withhold blood from you for misbehaving, he’s more likely to either force feed you normal food, which tastes awful and can make you nauseous, or he’ll only give you human blood. Both options leave you paranoid with the blood/food he gives you. If you ever try to refuse what he gives you, he’s not afraid to force it down your throat himself.
Threatens to give you blood from your family or friends if you continue to try and cause problems. While he wouldn’t ever really want to actually give you blood from a loved one, he’s not above lying and telling you the blood you're drinking is from them.
The new strength and speed you gain from being turned makes Donnie paranoid. Theoretically, you now have a better chance at escaping. To negate this problem, Donnie makes you wrist and ankle weights to slow you down. At least, until you give him a reason to slow you down permanently.
Raphael:
Raph only feeds off you when he’s too tired to go find his own food. He’s paranoid he’ll drain you, even when his brothers insist it’s impossible. He doesn’t see a reason to feed off you when he has a supply of animal blood at the ready. The difference in taste isn’t a big thing to him, and he doesn’t mind having to find his own food while he’s out. The sewers have plenty of small critters living around.
He’s terrified of hurting you. Raph knows he’s strong, and he’s not always the most sure footed because of his large size. When he accidentally hurt you before, he would coddle you for weeks, but now that he’s nearly twice as strong normally? He knows he’s going to have a lot of accidents, so he practically babies you until he’s adjusted to his new strength. He doesn’t care how suffocating you say he’s being, he refuses to let you be hurt when you don’t need to be.
Waits till you're older to turn you. He wants you to stay human for as long as possible. While he knows turning you would be beneficial as you’d be less likely to get hurt, he doesn’t like the idea of taking your humanity until he has to. Refuses to argue about turning you when he finally does. He mentions it once and doesn’t care how much you protest. He’s let you stay human for years longer than needed. You should be thanking him in his eyes.
Likes to hold you a lot more. He’ll keep you in his arms as he moves from room to room, or be cuddling you whenever you’re both alone. Having you with him forever makes him so happy, and he doesn’t want any time to go by without you feeling loved, or how he perceives loving you anyways.
Hates you when leave his sight. Now that you’re faster and stronger, he’s afraid you’ll do something stupid and try to run. He sees keeping you near him as him protecting you from yourself.
Doesn’t let up on his protective behavior, even though you’re now tougher. He’s not taking any chances with you and your safety. Any plea to leave and go outside is instantly shut down. You’re no longer human, you don’t need to go up top anymore. Your place is with him, forever.
Leonardo:
He doesn’t tell you until he feels it’ll help him. He likes having the extra strength you won’t know about, at least until telling you benefits him. If you’re throwing a fit or have refused to talk to him for a while, he’ll flash his fangs and threaten to drain you until you pass out. After you know, he’ll constantly remind you of his heightened senses and strength. He doesn’t want you to forget how hard it will be to ever leave his side.
Is always a bit worried he’ll get too rough with you and hurt you more than he means to. His upgraded strength makes him more confident, but he doesn’t always remember how much strength he gained. Even as he teases you, he’s hesitant to actually try and mess with you in case he goes too far.
Dry bites a lot. He likes just sinking his fangs in your shoulder while he holds you close, liking the fact you’ll have the imprint of his teeth in your skin for a while. He doesn’t like to feed from you, since it makes him feel like a parasite, but he likes to see the faces you make when he touches the holes his teeth made in your skin.
Waits a while to turn you, mostly because he knows you’ll be able to run faster if you ever do get away. Before he turns you, he’ll start keeping you locked away more. He’ll have you turned while you’re asleep so you don’t even know what happened. In Leo’s opinion, the less you know about this, the better.
He’s ecstatic now that you’re going to be by his side forever. His worst nightmare was losing you, and now he’ll never have to worry about that again. You don’t have to worry about most diseases, death, or being alone now that you have him. Leo treats turning you like a huge favor, ignoring the fact he knows you never wanted it. He plays off hiding it like it was a surprise.
Pretty much solely feeds you animal blood at first, only giving you human if he feels you’re acting out too much. He doesn’t tell you of the change, but he knows it tastes different, and you do too. He doesn’t want to mess with your food too much, since blood is now the only thing you can consume.
If you ever do escape, he’ll probably go straight to an extreme now. You’re stronger, and you're more agile due to the mutation, which makes you harder to contain. He’s not willing to lose you, even if it means hurting you.
#rottmnt#tmnt#rise of the tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie#rise leo#vampire tmnt#vampire rottmnt#vampire tmnt headcanons#vampire leo#vampire donnie#vampire mikey#vampire raph#vampire tmnt raph#vampire donatello#vampire raphael#vampire michelangelo#vampire leonardo#vampire 2108 tmnt#rottmnt leo#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raphael#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt headcanons#vampire#yandere tmnt#yandere rottmnt#yandere leonardo x reader#yandere leonardo
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i love all the writing you’ve done on jonathan ohnn/the spot ITS AMAZING
but i just know that pre-collider spot is such a pervert towards reader like stalking her on social media legit screenshotting her posts and saving them to his phone… you post one picture of you in a bikini AND HES CUMMING IN HIS PANTS that man would do anything for you just to go out on one date with him or even notice him. (which i mean reader can clearly notice him by the way he always stares at her while at work, she just knows him as the “weird guy” at alchemax)
i'm gonna lose my miiiiiiiind
tw: LAZY WRITINGGG, f!reader, pervert!jonathan, m!masturbation, not proofread (it's 2am pls)
Not only is he stalking your socials daily, he's surprised when you greet him one day at work. He waves at you, but it's so awkward that he cringes.
He only goes at work outings just to see you all dressed up. He's glad that the places they go to are always packed, and that his blatant staring isn't obvious. He's literally sitting at the bar, alone, watching as you dance- a shy grin on his face as he sees you laugh with your head thrown back. Fuck, you were gorgeous.
If you guys ever worked on the same project while at the lab, he'd absolutely be losing his shit internally. He's seriously PANICKING.
Keeps side eyeing you as he pretends to work, but he really can't concentrate with you being in arms-reach at all times. Your perfume is clouding his brain, and he thinks that he needs to find out what brand it is and buy it, IMMEDIATELY. You say his name suddenly and his head snaps up to you as you start talking to him about smth work-related. Jonathan is nodding along to your words even though he's not hearing a single thing that's coming out of your mouth. He's too busy staring at the way your lips move as you talk.
"-but I don't know if that would be a good idea. What do you think?"
"Huh- 'm sorry what?" he's swallowing around nothing as he watches you chuckle softly, shaking your head, and he's scrambling to find something to say- throwing up a lame excuse of having a headache, anything to justify him acting like a caveman.
Literally replays the whole 3 second of this interaction in his head when he's home, and curses himself for being so pathetic.
The next day when he's still stuck working alongside you, (not that he minds in the slightest, it's just really, really hard for him to get any work done) you're invading his personal space, wanting to grab some papers that were left on his desk, and instead of going around him, you stretch and grab them from right next to him, and he swears he felt your tits brush against his arm-
that night he, once again, replays that day's interaction in his head, but this time he's whimpering while thinking about it, trying to remember the way you felt pressed against his arm even if it was for mere seconds.
He can't help but lower his briefs guiltily, biting his lip at the sight of his painfully hard cock. He wraps a hand around himself, closing his eyes shut, his mind immediately conjuring an image of you naked and panting for him-
"Fuh-fuck. Please fuck me, baby. Want y'so bad, shit-"
❥ weeks later ->
this might sound dumb BUT what if he's showing you smth on his phone and he goes to close the app, but when he does his social media is pulled up right next to that, your profile on display. Cold dread washes over him in a MILLISECOND, and he's yanking his hand back and away from you, closing all apps in lightning speed.
You're stunned, obviously. You wouldn't have thought anything of it, i mean checking someone's social media is not weird after all- but the way he reacted? That spoke volumes. And satisfaction pulls at your belly when you watch this man literally fight for his life. He's stuttering, readjusting his glasses constantly, even when he doesn't need to. And you're just sitting there watching him, trying to hide your smile by biting your lip softly.
"Jonathan.. d'you have anything to say to me?"
"What? N-no! Why would I?"
you shrug, "I dunno. You tell me,"
"Just, y'know.. I thought about following you since we work together 'n all..."
you hum, looking at him through your eyelashes, not believing him for a second, "Did you like my pictures?"
"What?!"
"You heard me,"
"Uh.. y-yeah. They were really nice."
Jonathan freezes when you scoot closer to him, one hand falling to his thigh "Yeah? S that what you do for fun, Jonathan? Stalk my profile?"
"No!-"
you click your tongue, leaning in to graze his ear with your teeth and he's shivering "Tell me the truth."
"Fuck... I.." his pretty lashes flutter when you squeeze his plush thigh, your hand inching dangerously close to his bulge-
You wait four more seconds, and when he still doesn't answer, your hand falls on the outline of his cock, and you're squeezing him over his pants. He moans, and you have to clamp a hand over his mouth to silence him bc of how loud he was. You were still at work, after all.
"Answer me, baby." you mutter against his jaw, and his eyes roll back as he whimpers, the sound muffled by your palm.
"Mffyesh- I do, fuck, I look at you all the damn time-"
You coo at that, starting to rub him over his pants "Yeah? I bet you touch yourself to my pictures too.. God, you're disgusting."
he nearly sobs, "I am, I am-! M sorry, just want you so bad- Please, I'm sorry- You're perfect, I couldn't help it,"
#so sorry abt how lazy and badly written this is#the weirdest thing is me writing this while listening to bardcore#aka witcher soundtracks LMFAOO#pathetic losers are my weakness<3333#•ूᡣ𐭩 — spot#the spot brainrot#the spot x reader#jonathan ohnn x reader
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toji being a meanie :’(
a/n: first smut nd its just for himmm hehe , feeling shy ab posting this , toji is mean af duh, toji praises you ONCE, degrading, pussy spanking 😈, bratty reader, female reader, not fully proofread , toji makes you beg , cant resist toji (literally) , tied up reader , okay byebye enjoy!!!
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“you see that shit, princess?” he whispers softly, forcing you to look at his fingers graze your sensitive clit, “thats fuckin’ mine, you hear me?”
you nod slowly. toji had been at this for hours now. hours and he still hasn’t fucked you. you were way too spaced out to remember how you got here. toji definitely didn’t forget, though. nothing out of the norm, just a classic case of you being bratty and toji dragging you home to put you in your place.
he smacks your pussy, causing you to yelp in surprise and making you grip the bedsheets beneath you, your legs starting to quiver. “just listen to yourself. and you talked all that shit earlier.” he scoffs. “guess you don’t got nothin’ else to say.”
your brows furrowed in frustration. you would just ignore his stupid ass taunts and get yourself off with your fingers. it’s too bad he’s got your hands tied behind your back.
“j-just… fuck me already.” you whine, earning yourself another harsh smack to your cunt. “now you’re tellin’ me what to do? ‘really tryin’ it today, babe.”
“i’ll consider speeding this along.. if ya beg for it.”
not a fucking chance is what you wanted to say, but you knew if you did he probably would leave you there and not fuck you for the rest of the week. him asking you to beg was his way of trying to tame you. the nice way.
“toji.. please..” you mumble, looking at him with pleading eyes. “don’t make me wait anymore.”
“i don’t think you get it, princess.” he starts, and suddenly he was holding your jaw in his hand, getting nice and close so that you could hear him, “y’want me to just give it to you, but it’s not gonna happen unless you beg like you fuckin’ mean it. got it?”
“..mhm.” you whimper timidly, you couldn’t deny that you felt a bit intimidated for a second there. at this point, you needed to just set your pride aside. all you had to do was say those magical words…
you gasp softly as his hand lets go of your jaw and moves back down to your sopping little cunt, applying pressure to your swollen clit and moving his thumb in a circular motion. you cry out in pleasure and you felt his eyes watching every pathetic little expression on your face. “..need your cock s’bad, toji.” you say softly, “need to feel you inside me..”
“yeah? care to remind me who this pretty pussy belongs to?”
you don’t even dare hesitate anymore. “y-you.. always you.”
“that’s my girl.” he praises, finally getting up and tugging at his sweatpants so he could show you what you’ve been wanting this entire day.
(sorry for the cliffhanger pookies :p)
#tojitopiia#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#back off hes mine#jk#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushigro x reader#minors dni#18+ only#18+ content#toji x you#toji is so mean in this wth
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Unmasked
15/16
<<< previous part
Word count : 5.2k
Warning: poorly translated French (English translation at the end)
A/N : I feel terrible about how long it’s taken me to write this, the inspiration just hasn’t been with me for a little while. I hope you enjoy it regardless ❤️
**********************************************
SC - With the weight of the world seemingly off her shoulders, y/n absolutely flew around the track today. It feels like for the first time in a while, we’re seeing Thirty in her element once again.
Even with two rampaging Bulls chasing her down, it’s the Prancing Horse who takes the chequered flag. Y/N Y/L/N wins the Spanish Grand Prix!
MB - Despite all of the noise this weekend, it’s races like this one that define y/n as one of the best drivers of this generation. From the flawless start, to defending from the tremendous speed of the two Redbulls when it mattered most - that was a wonderful race to watch.
SC - I’m sure Ferrari were hoping for a 1-2 finish today, but after Charles' engine issues forced him to retire, I think they’ll be happy to get the most possible points with y/n’s fastest lap too. Look at that celebration, if there’s one thing about Thirty, every win is just as exciting as the last.
The feeling you got when you won never was any less triumphant, no matter how many you had tucked under your belt. But after how long the weekend had felt, this one felt particularly special. You climbed atop your car and pumped your fists above your head - practically giddy with glee as the crowd cheered for you, the underlying boos barely phasing you. They just didn’t matter - their opinions didn’t matter.
Your eyes zeroed in on a small group of girls who were in the grandstands, dressed head to toe in red - waving a banner for you above their head. Their celebrations seemed louder than anyone else's so you made sure to wave, putting the biggest smile on their faces before you hopped over to the car.
You laughed as the team swept you up in a tight hug when you ran over to the barrier, patting you on the helmet - the noise vibrated through you, making your heart soar. If there was a group of people you knew you could rely on, it was your team; even after your reveal, they were never any less supportive of you, always there for you no matter what the result was and treating you as they always had. It was one of the reasons why none of the contracts you offered tempted you, Ferrari are your family, you belong in red.
After swapping your helmet for your team cap, both Redbull drivers approached - Max giving you an overly enthusiastic bro hug, slapping your back so hard it almost hurt but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Amazing job, y/n. Almost got you.”
“Well, thankfully you and the smooth operator were too busy having a family squabble for that.” You teased, pulling back to let Carlos hug you as well, the Spaniard’s strong arms looped around your middle. “Now, if you boys don’t mind me - I have a winner’s interview to do.”
“Good job, y/n. Really happy for you.” Carlos made sure to get his praises in before you head across parc ferme. “See you soon.”
“Congratulations, y/n, what a result!” Naomi looked almost as excited as you as you approached for your post race interview. “How are you feeling right now?”
Your face was already hurting from how much you were smiling, you placed a hand on top of your cap and laughed. “I’m over the moon, this win felt so good.”
“After all you’ve had to deal with since your reveal, this is definitely wonderful to see.” She praised. “You raced spectacularly, anything you’d like to say to the people out there who still doubt you?”
“Honestly? After everything the guys, Max, Pierre, Esteban and Charles especially, put on the line for me, none of it really matters anymore. I have confidence in my skills and talent in this sport and knowing that my rivals believe in me too means everything… I won’t pretend that reading cruel things online will magically stop hurting, but I know what I’m capable of. I’m a world champion for a reason and there’s nothing anyone can say that will take that away from me.”
“Is this the start of your triumphant return, are we going to see you up on the top step now you’ve got your confidence back?”
“I’m ready for whatever the rest of the season throws at me. The championship is still all to play for right now, so I’m going to put my best foot forward and focus on racing.”
“Thank you so much, y/n. Congratulations. Your race winner, everybody!”
You waved at the crowd as you stepped inside to head to the cool-down room, your heart racing. Max and Carlos both greeted you with large smiles as you stepped into the room, the Spaniard playfully swatting at the brim of your cap to knock it from your head - swapping it for the 1st place Pirelli cap. “Much better, hermosa.”
“Thank you, however…” You knelt down to pick up your Ferrari hat, dusting it off before placing it on the table, a teasing lilt to your voice as you spoke. “Don’t disrespect! You can be proud of me for winning without being rude about my team, Carlos. I won’t ever let you forget you were almost one of us.”
“Idiot.” Max mumbled playfully, a strong arm draping across your shoulder - his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Congrats again on the win, y/n. You raced like a proper champ.”
“It felt good. Like of course winning is always good but this one felt different. Perhaps it was the timing of it, but there’s something about winning while feeling confident in myself again that makes me hungry for more.” You smiled softly. “To be honest, it felt more like the two of you were pushing me along than racing me… I’d thank you for taking it easy on me but there’s no way that that’s true.”
“You know I’d never do that. It was all you.” The Dutchman scoffed. “How dare you remember how good you are at racing, how am I supposed to beat you now.”
The way you grinned at him, gave Max flashbacks to your karting days together - your genuine joy when you beat him or all of the other boys in races. He could picture the small girl with her hair all messy from her helmet, sticking her tongue out at him when he whined to his Dad that a girl beat him. It’s not fair, she pushed me! When in reality you were just talented from day one. The way anyone could ever doubt you were Thirty bewildered him because you were you. Driven. Passionate.
It was why he never had any issue sharing the podium with you - your wins felt truly earned. Sure every driver had a win or two that they got under unusual circumstances but when the two of you were on those steps together, he could see how much you enjoyed it, no matter which number win it was and finally being able to see your smile made it all the better.
As you lifted your trophy above your head, you scanned the crowd for Charles - who, despite his DNF, was now standing in the front row, smiling up at you with pride. He threw you a cheesy wink as he clapped, not letting his own race ruin this for you. Despite not being your first win of the season, it was your first time on the top step so you relished every second of it - drowning both Redbull drivers in champagne before chugging some of the sparkling liquid. Max made sure he poured his drink down the back of your race suit, something he insisted he missed out having to share with your body double after the last win when you scolded him for it.
You felt on top of the world, all of your criticisms temporarily forgotten when that evening, all you could hear was the clinking of glasses against your own - the girls’ lips all sparkled with champagne as they toasted your victory. As much as you loved the guys, being celebrated by other women made your win all the more special. Lily looped an arm around your middle and pulled you close as Carmen snapped a photo - their laughter twinkling through the air. They gushed on how amazingly you raced, teasing you as your cheeks flushed.
All of this however, didn’t stop Charles watching you from across the bar - your red race suit traded for a gorgeous dress of the same colour, your eyes sparkling under the lights. The confidence you were radiating was intoxicating; he wanted to blame it on the beer he was drinking but there was nothing more he wanted than to have his hands all over you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, everything about you was magnetic. He wanted to steal you from the girls, but he knew you needed this. Even when Max slapped him on the shoulder, he struggled to tear his eyes away.
“She’s not going to vanish if you stop looking at her, mate.” The dutchman teased, Charles finally turned away from you. “Let her celebrate, she knows where you are when she’s ready.”
“Something about her is just…different. Lighter.”
Max smiled softly, secretly fond of how Charles was with you. “She just won a race!”
“No, no. It’s more than that.” The other driver insisted. “But I just can’t put my finger on it… and if you’ll excuse me, I can’t just watch from a distance. She’s too beautiful.”
“Gross.”
He shoved Max lightly on the arm before crossing the bar to get to you, weaving between the flashes of red of those who were still in their team kit. Charles watched Lily give you a look before you cast your eyes over your shoulder - your face cracking into a grin. Your teammate felt grateful you were as pleased to see him as he was you. “Charles.”
“Mon amour.” He hummed, draping an arm around your waist - pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sorry, I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. Having fun?”
“So much. I’m glad you’re here actually, we were just talking about you.” You lent into his touch.
“Oh yeah?”
Lily’s brow raised playfully. “You’ve got a big battle coming, il Predestinato. Now that our girl’s back, you ready to step it up?”
“I don’t think she ever left.” You looked at him as he spoke, his green eyes already fixed on you. “Just needed a little reminder of who she is.”
You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss him - his hand coming up to rest on your jaw. “I’ll never forget again thanks to you, and who knows, there’s still 16 races to go… anything could happen.”
“Joint world champions.” He teased, “That ever happened before?”
“Don’t think so.” Your laughter was soft, Charles had practically forgotten the presence of the girls watching you both with a fondness in their eyes. “But if anyone could do it, it would be us.”
“Cheers to that and cheers to you, y/n. I love you.”
You clinked your glass against his. “I love you too.”
***
Yourusername added to their instagram story
***
After your race win in Imola and poor strategy in Monaco from your team - ruining Charles’ chance at a win at his home grandprix, it didn’t take long for you to catch up to your teammate in the points and by the time the chequered flag was waved in Azerbaijan, you were the championship leader and it felt good. You could tell the strategy calls were starting to affect your boyfriend but whenever you brought it up, he told you it was all fine and that he was nothing but happy for you and selfishly, you believed him. You wanted him to feel as excited as you did, and it was the first time in a long time you were feeling good about your career.
Instead, you focused on racing with the same confidence you always knew you had before your reveal and with the people around you always making sure you had a smile on your face - the last few straggling cynics barely made a noise over the roaring crowds every time you lifted a trophy above your head.
Part of you thought maybe you had just become more attentive now you were free to be yourself, but every race that passed seemed to have more and more female fans eager to greet you at the barricades, ecstatic that you were leading the championship even if there was only 7 points in it.
“You’ve got this in the bag, y/n!” They always told you Canadian’s were nice, and it was shown with the way your new poor assistant’s arms were piled high with gifts as fans chatted away with you. You were never allowed to talk to them before as Thirty, so meeting them really was a delight. “Those boys don’t stand a chance.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Charles is pretty good.” You smiled softly. “But, I’ll tell you what… I’m gonna do my absolute best for you.”
“You’re already the champion in my eyes, regardless of how the season ends.”
“Oh stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” You laughed softly, giving the girl a one armed hug. “I have to go now, thank you all though - for the support, the gifts. I’ll try and win for you today, promise.”
You helped to take some of the gifts from your assistant before heading towards the motorhome, saying hi to the other drivers as you passed by - after the protest, they had much more an effort to include you in idle chit-chat or debates they were having with another driver. Whether it was Esteban trying to get you to convince Mick and Lance that his long standing feud with Max was definitely over or Kevin showing you photos of his kid, it was nice. It was truly all you had ever wanted from your reveal - not just to be a driver, but to feel like one too.
Charles tucked you under his arm before the driver parade started, bickering with Pierre in French about god knows what but the glint in their eyes and the cheeky smile on Charles’ face assured you it was all in good fun. You simply rested your head against your boyfriend, eyes closed as you enjoyed the surprisingly warm weather as you waited for the flatbed to start moving.
“Mon amour, are you falling asleep standing upright?” He teased, squeezing you into his side.
“Mhmm, you’re so comfy, Charles.” You hummed softly, standing up straighter as the engine began to rumble - wanting to wave to the crowds instead of being caught dozing. “Besides, I’ve got to be well rested before I win the race later.”
“Leading the championship and suddenly your ego is massive.” Pierre teased, kicking you lightly in the shin - making you whine and glare at him. “I’m kidding. You deserve to be cocky, you have been very impressive recently.”
You raised a brow. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Gasly.”
“Uh oh, Pierre, you’ve made an enemy of Thirty. You better there’s no chance of the two of you tangling during the race.”
You practically snorted out a laugh. “Oh Charles, he won’t need to worry… unless, maybe I end up lapping him.”
“Oh it is on.”
It was your turn to bicker with Pierre, your boyfriend slipping away to talk to some of the others as the flatbed pulled back in to drop you all off at the pits. You felt in such high spirits when you got in the car that there was just nothing that could stop you - you were sure of it. You were going to get your 3rd title and Ferrari their first WCC since 2018. it felt like you owed them at least that much after keeping you on.
And oh, did you love this track. With its tight barriers hugging the track and long straights, the high speed was risky but made the race all the more exciting. That paired with the two Redbull’s sniffing at your car’s rear end and your teammate starting at the back of the grid, it was bound to be an exciting race.
Max put up a hell of a fight, chasing you down and barely giving you even a second to breathe - he nearly caught you on more than one occasion, but not pitting during the late safety car was his fatal mistake - his pebbled tires were no match for your shiny new softs. And before long you were lifting your second consecutive first place trophy above your head, Max and Lewis alongside you.
You felt untouchable, blowing a kiss in the direction of a small crowd of Redbull fans who had booed you louder than the rest as you’d been handed your trophy before giving their golden boy a good hosing down with your champagne, the two men who you shared the podium with upended the bottles over your head in a bubbling waterfall- a giddy smile on both of your faces as you celebrated.
“Hey congrats.” Lewis grinned, patting you on the shoulder as the three of you stood on the podium for the photo together. “Winning looks better on you every time.”
“Thanks Lewis, means a lot. Especially from you.”
The three of you stepped off the podium for your post race interviews, and you just couldn’t shake the electricity running through you. Not a single interview passed without them commenting on just how different you seemed - how over the course of the past few races, the personality they had loved beneath the helmet seemed to have finally come to the surface. “It’s so nice to see how much you’re enjoying racing again, y/n.”
“Yeah, it’s been really really good.” You smiled, your hands resting against the cool metal barricade in front of you. “Sure, I still see and hear some nasty stuff but it… it just doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t hurt as bad knowing that I have nothing to prove to them. They’ll never like me, and that’s okay. I have plenty of supporters and friends who love me and back me up no matter what.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back. Hope you enjoy your weekend off, see you at Silverstone.”
You thanked the press before heading back to the Ferrari motorhome, letting out a yelp as you were practically tackled by your boyfriend as he swept you up in his arms. “There’s my race winner.”
“Oh who cares about my race win when you made it up from 19th to 5th!” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him - the warmth from his body made you feel at ease. “That’s far more impressive. You very much deserved the driver of the day, I’m glad your hard work was recognised.”
“Well...” He carefully placed you on the floor, placing his hands on your hips. “How about we take our weekend off to celebrate your phenomenal race and my win, hmm?”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss like you weren’t surrounded by the hustle and bustle of your team packing up now the weekend was over. Neither of you cared, you simply couldn’t get enough of each other.
When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but notice the cheeky glint in his eyes. You let your hand move to rest on his jaw, brushing your thumb across the stubble. “That sounds like an offer I simply can’t refuse.”
***
***
The skies were blue when you touched down in Silverstone, another favourite - a classic; the Tifosi showing wasn’t as big as it used to be but there were enough flashes of red amongst the crowds for you to feel their support. But, much to the disappointment of the Mercedes and Mclaren fans filling the grandstands, you and your team were currently on track to win the whole thing. You’d spent more time than you cared to admit trying to figure out what the earliest race you could win the championship at despite your slow start to the season.
But with Charles, Max and Carlos all having an equally impressive score sheet, you honestly had no idea which way it was going to go - you could only hope it would be in your favour. You’d worked so hard to fight for not only the championship, but the respect you deserved that you knew that you couldn’t stop now. Everything was to play for and you couldn’t back down now.
SC - Welcome one, welcome all to the Formula 1 Lenovo British Grand Prix here at Silverstone, the sun is shining down on all of us Martin and it looks set to be a good race. With the Ferraris and Redbulls occupying the two front rows, it will be a challenge for anyone else to claim victory. Our Championship leader shares the front row with Max Verstappen, who is gaining with each race on her and her teammate Charles Leclerc.
MB - It definitely is one to watch, the battle between the Prancing Horses and Bulls has been thrilling so far this season. I can’t wait to see how this all plays out and with Y/N having claimed podiums in her last six races, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her back on that top step.
SC - I’d put money on it if I was a betting man. Her performance leading up to this point has been something special. But with Max picking up the pace, I think he’s definitely her biggest competitor right now.
MB - Now Crofty, I wouldn’t write young Leclerc off so quickly, he is second place right now.
SC - Well, I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait and see as the grid lines up for the start of the race. The British Grand Prix is about to start, engines are revving… and its lights out, and away we go!
You felt breathless as you pulled into parc ferme, what a race. Despite your win, you couldn’t help but think about Gyanyu, George and Alex - the crash at the start was scary and you were lucky to have not been a part of it with a third of the grid getting tangled up. As much as you loved to win, it was always a bittersweet feeling when others were potentially hurt.
As you climbed out of the car, you made an effort to try and catch as many of the other drivers you knew had been part of the incident as you could as they made their way through parc ferme. You immediately wrapped your arms around Seb as he climbed out of the car, your former teammate giving you a gentle chuckle in response - promising that he was okay. So you glanced around the crowd for your childhood friend, Pierre smirking as he saw you approach. “Aw, coming to check on me?”
“Don’t make me regret it, Gasly.” You chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “But if you’ll excuse me, I did just win. Catch you later.”
You tried to catch Charles before he ducked away but you were ushered towards Lewis and Carlos for the podium interviews. With your fresher tires brought on by Esteban’s safety car, he wasn’t able to hold you off… or Lewis… or Carlos. So he was understandably frustrated. But you were still happy and wanted to celebrate with the team and you were sure once he’d had his moment of annoyance, he’d be happy for you too.
It was hard to have that same attitude when the roles were reversed the following week in Austria, and it was you who barely missed out on the podium and it all came to a head in your driver’s room. “I think we need to talk.”
“Oh?” Charles gently took off his first place cap and placed it on the coffee table. “Everything okay?”
You took a deep breath. “I don’t know why we haven’t had this conversation before but I feel like we need to talk about what happened this week and last week… when one of us wins and the other doesn’t. I think we need to find the balance of being able to understand how the other one feels versus celebrating the winner.”
“Yeah, yeah I get that. Well…” He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your hips - giving a gentle squeeze. “The winner can be sympathetic and the other can be supportive, but if one of us has a particularly bad race when the other wins then we just check in on how they feel first before jumping for joy at the win.”
“We’re both in with a chance of winning this whole thing, we have to promise not to let that get in the way of what we have.” You looped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I'm really happy with you and I don’t want me beating you to ruin that.”
“Oh, you’re gonna beat me are you?” Charles chuckled. “Well, best of luck, mon amour. You’re gonna need it.”
***
***
Leading up the summer break, things stayed on the up for you but not so much for Charles the agreement between the two of you more in force than ever. Hungary was the last race before you could enjoy a relaxing few weeks away from the paddock but with Charles’ DNF in France the weekend before he’d lost 2nd in the WDC to Max, the Dutchman now 5 points ahead thanks to his victory and it was clearly bothering him. You were soaring ahead and he was starting to be left behind - you 33 points ahead.
Charles spent as much time as he could with fans, making sure not one was missed - chatting away, taking photos and bringing as many smiles to their faces as he could. He would always be the tifosi’s golden boy; despite you leading, he would always have a special place in their hearts and you couldn’t blame them. There was something charming and gentle about him, he was impossible to dislike. The way he avidly listened to every word fans said to him, the look on his face full of genuine interest. He was so kind and you knew someday he was going to live up to the massive expectations they had all put on his shoulders - you wanted to win the championship, but someday it was going to be his turn and you knew that he would have their support every step of the way.
As you finally stepped away from the crowds, you linked your fingers with his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze - noticing his deflated stature as you walked towards the motorhome. Neither have you qualified on pole and his hopes of winning were being diminished by the minute. “You looked like you were having a good time with the fans, what’s the matter? Talk to me…”
“I hate to say it, amour, but now that you’re off ahead in the distance - I’m gonna have to play the role of second driver.” He grumbled softly. “I really want you to do well, y/n, I do, but I want it to be fair.”
A soft sigh left your lips and you turned him to face you, his green eyes locked on yours. “I won’t let it be unfair. I’m gonna talk to my engineers and let them know how I feel about it.. When I beat you, it’s all gonna be on my own merit.”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, shaking his head a little. Your heart skipped a beat at his laughter, his strong arms looping around your middle. “And when I beat you, it’ll be because I deserve it too.”
“Exactly. We’re equals.” You lent up to press a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Last race until the summer break, we just have to get through this and then you and I can escape to your yacht and make the most of the privacy.”
“You are beyond tempting.” He purred, pulling you in closer. “If we weren’t surrounded by all these prying eyes, I’d have you exactly where I want you.”
A giggle escaped you, you raised a playful brow at him. “Well, then what are we waiting for? Your driver’s room has a lock on the door, doesn’t it?”
Your teammate groaned, his nose nudging against yours before he kissed you with even more intensity than before - not caring about the cameras or poor staff members walking past you both to get into the building. The butterflies erupted in your stomach as he smiled against your lips, not wasting a second more before he tugged you into the building towards his driver room. He pressed your back against the door as he closed it, his pupils blown with lust as they scanned your figure. “As pretty as you look in red…”
“I’d look better in nothing?” You teased, slipping your hands under his polo - he shivered as your cold hands ran across his skin. “C’mon, Charles. You can do better than that.”
“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, dropping his voice to a whisper as his lips brushed across your skin. “Tu es délicieux(1)…je t’aime de tout mon coeur(2).”
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. “God, you speaking French really does something to me.. Don’t stop.”
He tugged you away from the door as he pulled your polo over your head, lips only breaking from your skin to mutter filth in french. You were weak at the knees as he pulled back to look at you - his lips shiny with your gloss. You reached up to brush your thumb across his bottom lip before tugging on his chin gently to bring him back into a kiss as he began to work on the button of your jeans.
“Did you lock the door?” You managed to get out, feeling breathless but your boyfriend seemed relentless, grunting in response as he dropped to his knees to pull your jeans over your hips, tugging you lightly so you thumped down on the couch with a soft oof. “Charles, the door.”
“You’re killing me.” He whined, running his hands up the insides of your thighs - pushing them apart. “Je ne peux pas supporter d'être loin de toi ne serait-ce qu’un instant(3), amour.”
You draped a leg over his shoulder. “If anyone walks in, I’ll run you off the track later.”
His lips curved into a devilish smirk. “Deal.”
****
charles_leclerc posted to his instagram stories
***
Next part >>>
(1) you’re delicious
(2) I love you with all my heart
(3) I can't stand being away from you for even a moment
I hope you enjoyed ❤️ thank you for all your continued support regardless of my terrible posting schedule
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