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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

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baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.”

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!”

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine.

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room.

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz

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thevoidstaredback · 19 days

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"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"

Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.

Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.

"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"

Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"

Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."

He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."

"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"

Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."

This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.

Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is."

"You can die a happy man now?"

A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"

"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."

"Ha!"

"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."

Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"

Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"

"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.

"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"

"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"

"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"

Tim nodded, "Damian's right."

"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.

"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"

Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."

"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.

"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"

"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.

"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."

He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.

Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."

Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."

Bruce nodded, "Me, either."

Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"

"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.

Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"

Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."

"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.

"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"

"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.

"Naturally."

"I'm in," the two responded.

"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."

"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."

"Of course, father."

"Ready? Break."

Part 3

Tag List: @sebas-nights

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the-boy-meets-evil · 11 months

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you're mine | c.sc

you thought you had finally gotten the upper hand on seungcheol. you were wrong. pairing: idol!seungcheol x fem!reader genre: idol!au | smut, pwp rating: explicit | minors DNI warnings: this is mostly just smut so take that how you will, reader is kinda bratty, scoups is possessive, slight dom undertones (? idk i don't usually write this), swearing, kissing, biting, marking, restraints, sensory deprivation (blindfold), fingering, brief mention of a hand job, slight nipple play, use of a pet name (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, protected sex, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything word count: ~3.5k

a/n: idk what to say, this kind of got away from me lol. credit/blame to @seungkwansphd for putting the idea in my head and scoups for whatever bullshit he was on in macao. it was supposed to be a drabble and this isn't what i'd normally write so go easy on me. unbeta'd and mostly unedited. thank you to my baby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations for the last minute banner and divider!

You’ve never been much of a brat with anyone else. It just isn’t something that crossed your mind. Why would you want to rile someone up on purpose? Why would you want to get under their skin just to see their response? Why would you want to do the opposite of what they asked? So no, it hasn’t crossed your mind.

Until Seungcheol.

Until you met the man that made you want to cause problems. The man that made you discover a lot of things you didn’t know about yourself. The man that had you from the moment he told you that he was going to go easy on you. You didn’t realize then, but you were fucked. Talk about being in over your head.

He really did start easy, in hindsight. And he let you get away with things you didn’t even realize. Thought you had the upper hand, actually. How many ways can one person be wrong? You don’t have the answer beyond knowing it’s a lot.

You love the moments that Seungcheol lets you think you’re in control. You know now that’s all it is. Pretend. He’s always the one actually pulling the strings. And you’re always the one trying to press his buttons, press your luck, gain some ground.

Today’s test? You want to mark him up. You want to leave your claim on him, but you know you can’t make it obvious. Don’t feel like you can push his buttons quite that hard. So even though you want to mark up his neck, you settle for his chest. You keep telling him that it’s getting too big anyway. Just who is he trying to impress?

Seungcheol is lying in your bed, one arm tucked behind his head and eyes closed. You know he’s not asleep, though, know he’s just enjoying a minute of peace before he has to leave and return to the chaos. And you know now is the best time because he really does have to go soon. It’s the best time to be able to get him and win, even if just for a moment, because there’s a lot of things he’ll do. A lot of things you still haven’t learned. But he’ll never be late. Never miss a schedule or leave his members waiting.

So you adjust your position under the premise of stretching, not really sure if he buys the act but also not really caring. You push yourself up and quickly swing a leg over his thighs, feel them clench under you quickly as you’re settling on top of them.

“And just who are you working out for?” you challenge, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” is his only answer as he opens his eyes to look up at you.

“Maybe I don’t want everyone else to see how good you look,” you pout.

“Maybe you should behave yourself then,” he retorts and you huff.

“I’m pretty sure you prefer it when I don’t,” you say.

You lean forward to kiss him before he can answer, lips meeting softly as his hands move up your thighs to grip your hips. He’s anchoring you to him and you know he’s mentally counting how much time he actually has. But you don’t want to give him that chance, don’t want to give up the tiny bit of control this position and the element of surprise have given you. You get the smallest bit of satisfaction when you break the kiss and he follows your lips. It’s not the time to get distracted, though, not now. So you kiss down his neck, suck just enough to earn a hiss out of him without it being enough to leave a mark. Not there at least.

When you get to his chest, the muscles in his thighs tighten again. On purpose, you think, to distract you. It’s hard to ignore too, especially when his hands grip your hips harder. When you can tell he’s trying to throw you off.

“Baby,” he whines and you know that whine, know that it’s designed to distract.

All you do is hum against his chest as you continue to kiss across it and down his stomach. His moans are low, the kind that really get to you. The kind where you know he’s enjoying himself even if he’s not fully in control. You kiss back up to his chest and can feel his breaths as you go.

“What are you going to do now, baby?” he asks. You hear the confidence in his voice. The confidence that usually makes you stutter.

Not today, though. You suddenly suck the skin of his chest into your mouth. Seunghcheol hisses in the most satisfying way at the combination of pleasure and pain. His fingers dig into your skin where they hold you in place, making you hum into his skin. It just makes you keep going, managing to suck two marks into his skin before his alarm goes off.

Without needing to be told, you slide off of him and allow him to get out of the bed. You know he doesn’t want to leave, but you know he’ll be back. Know that he’s got to keep to his schedule or he won’t be able to come over at all. After he’s pulled his shirt back on and gathered his things, he comes to stand in front of where you’re sitting at the edge of the bed. His kiss is soft, at odds with yours from moments ago.

“Listen carefully,” he whispers into your ear in that low voice. “I expect you to be waiting in bed when I text you that I’m headed back.”

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“Yes, pretty girl,” he says.

“And if I’m not?” you press.

“You’ll find out,” he answers.

That alone sends a shiver down your spine. You always want him to come back, never feel like you’ve had quite enough, but this is something even more. You’re looking forward to it.

The text comes a little later than you’re expecting saying that he’s on his way back over. And it comes without an apology for the lateness (though Jeonghan had texted you earlier to let you know things were running long). No, this text just comes with a reminder that expects you to be waiting for him in bed. He’ll let himself in.

It gives you too good of a chance, one you don’t want to pass up. He’s expecting you to listen, especially after you marked him earlier. But you’ve been waiting for this. And you’re not going to listen.

Ten minutes later, you hear the key turn in the lock and you sit further back into the couch wearing only one of his t-shirts he’s left behind and underwear. Maybe you’ll get to see a little of his control slipping.

His eyes are on you the second he’s through the door, narrowing at the open defiance. Seungcheol is serious as he regards you sitting there. It’s like he’s waiting for you to break first and confident you will. It makes you fidget a little in your seat, which seems to be enough for him.

“I asked you to be waiting in bed,” he says.

“I know,” you respond without missing a beat. “I guess I’m not so good at following directions.”

“And what do you think I should do?” He’s more so asking himself the question than you.

“Whatever you want,” you answer anyway. He raises an eyebrow.

“Careful what you ask for, pretty girl,” he warns.

“I think I can handle it.” It comes out just as bold as you mean for it to.

“We’ll see about that,” he says without missing a beat. “Follow me.”

Every part of you wants to protest, wants to keep pushing him further to see what happens. But your curiosity is also piqued and you really want to see what it is that he’s planning now. That must be why you let the intrusive thought win and follow him back into your bedroom where you find him already reaching into the drawer of your nightstand. The same drawer that he filled so you were always ready.

“Are you going to behave now and get on the bed like I asked?” Seungcheol asks with his back still to you.

“I’m not sure,” you say and smirk at the way it makes him turn around.

“Oh you’re not?” he asks.

“What’s in it for me if I start listening? Who’s going to rile you up?” you fire back at him.

“You like seeing me riled up,” he notes.

“Of course I do,” you offer.

He closes the space between you in a matter of steps and crushes his lips against yours to prevent another retort. The surprise gives way to desire as you wind your arms around his neck. You’re not even that surprised when he grabs you and lifts you up to deposit you onto the bed, despite the gasp that falls from your lips. He puts a knee between your legs and kisses you hard again before he breaks the kiss to pull off your shirt. You reach to remove your underwear and he stops your hands.

“Leave those,” he says before getting off the bed.

His back is to you again as he looks for something in the drawer. You have to squeeze your legs together when he turns back to you with silk scarves in his hands. But then he’s silently asking your permission before attaching each wrist to the headboard and you’re nodding even as you’re squirming. It’s not until you realize he’s still got something in his hands that you remember he promised you’d find out what happens when you don’t listen.

“What’s that for, Cheol?” you ask as he straddles your lap.

“I told you that you’d find out,” he answers and leans forward so his lips are nearly on your ear. “You don’t get to see what I’m doing. Just remember the word to use if it’s too much.”

That makes you swallow hard. You’ve talked about sensory deprivation and explored it a little, but you’ve never been blindfolded from the start. And part of you thinks that he’s going to leave this on you the entire time. A reminder of who’s actually calling the shots. He’s still gentle when he secures it behind your head, so careful that he doesn’t get any of your hair caught. You blink your eyes when it’s in place without it making much of a difference. You’re not totally blinded, but you might as well be. You can barely make out a shadow.

The next thing you’re aware of is Seungcheol’s lips against your neck, carefully trailing kisses that make you want to press into him. His thumb brushes across your nipple and you whimper, earning a chuckle out of him. Not being able to see is making everything feel a lot bigger. Just making it feel a lot more. There’s no knowing where his hands or mouth will be next and it’s turning you on. Making you want everything all at once.

Seunghcheol drags your nipple between his teeth and you arch into him, careful not to pull too hard against the restraints. The hand he runs down your side as he continues to tease your nipple should tickle, would under any other circumstances. It doesn’t this time, though.

“Are you going to listen to me next time?” he murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t know,” you manage between a moan. Your nipples are so sensitive.

“What was that?” he asks before he returns to kissing along the underside of your breast while his hand massages the other.

“I said I don’t know,” you repeat, fighting against the answer he wants.

“I guess the blindfold stays on,” he muses.

With that, he works his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses mixed with goosebumps from the warmth of his breath. Part of you wants to anticipate his moves and you open your legs, just slightly. He chuckles so quietly that you think usually you wouldn’t hear it. Except now everything sounds louder. You feel him remove his lips from your body, feel the bed shift from him moving somehow, and then feel his lips make contact with your skin again. But he’s kissing down from your knee, completely avoiding the place you want him the most. Even your moans and squirming do nothing to make him move on from kissing along your calf.

“Please baby,” you beg.

“Please what?” he asks, smirk clear in his voice.

“I need you,” you answer.

“Do you?” is all he asks

“Yes, Seungcheol, please,” you whine.

“Are you going to listen next time?” he wonders. He runs a finger up your inner thigh, stopping just shy of the material separating you from what you need most.

“Cheol,” you plead.

“Are you?” he repeats. This time he moves your underwear to the side and runs a single finger between your folds. It’s over entirely too fast. “So wet.”

“Fuck, yes Cheol, whatever you want, I just fucking need you,” you beg again.

His answer comes in the form of pulling your underwear down swiftly, leaving you naked before him. He runs his finger along your folds again, collecting some of the wetness there. You’re so hyper aware of him that you’re moaning from the barest touch, moaning when you feel his fingers pull away again. But then you feel him move around you and he licks into you without warning, spreading your folds with his fingers to get his tongue deeper.

“Fuck, baby, fuuuuck,” you yell.

You want to have your hands in his stupid blond hair, the hair he knew was going to drive you crazy. Want to hold his face between your thighs. So you lightly squeeze your thighs together instead and he moans into your cunt. It’s annoying, actually, how good he’s always been at going down on you because just the thought of it makes you agree to damn near anything.

Everything just feels that much more intense. Usually you love the sight of Seungcheol between your legs. Love to watch the way his head moves, love to see the way his hair falls, love the way the muscles move. Still do. But damn there’s something about not knowing what’s coming that’s making it that much hotter.

Seconds later his mouth moves up your clit and your back arches into his mouth again. He follows it by sliding a finger inside you and you really think you see stars. Hearing the way he moans into you along with the way his fingers move is almost too much. You don’t need to see anything, he’s setting your entire body on fire. When he slides a second finger in and hooks them to hit you just right, you scream out again.

He pulls his mouth away. “Oh, do you like that?”

“Fuuuuu- oh my god Cheol, yes yes,” you manage.

“Who fucks you the best, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Hm? Who does this pussy belong to?”

It’s honestly into cocky territory and you don’t care. Didn’t realize it was this much of a turn on for him to be possessive over you like this. Didn’t realize how much you wanted to be his, even if it’s confined to these four walls.

“I’m waiting,” he says, stilling his fingers inside you.

“It’s yours, Cheol, I’m yours,” you whimper.

His fingers start moving again and he doesn’t answer until you feel his mouth on yours, taste yourself on his tongue. He’s catching every moan with his mouth, pushing you to let go, urging you forward. Part of you wants to pull away, knows that he must feel you clenching around his fingers, but doesn’t move his lips from yours. Catches the screams you want to let loose and guides you as you come around his fingers.

Your breathing is still coming back to normal as you feel Seungcheol untying your wrists, massaging each one as he does so. The last thing he does is remove the scarf covering your eyes and you blink even at the low light in the bedroom. His gaze is soft but confident. He knows how hard he just made you come, yet still wants to make sure you’re okay.

“Can we do that again some time?” you wonder and he chuckles.

“I guess it wasn’t a punishment,” he notes.

“Oh no, I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” you tease and he rolls his eyes but there’s nothing behind it.

“Hm,” is all he says.

He’s sitting up on the bed next to you, one hand lightly stroking his cock. You’re not sure when he took off his clothes but just getting you off clearly turned him on. Without even thinking about it, you’re moving to straddle his thighs. His eyes watch you intently as you spit into your hand and move his aside. Your strokes are slow and he lets his head fall back, eyes closing. It’s not often that he lets you set the pace like this, so you’re going to enjoy it while you can. When you run your thumb over the tip, you watch the way the muscles in his stomach contract. And you know his patience is wearing out.

“Enough,” he says and reaches over to the nightstand for a condom. He’s ripping it open with his teeth and then rolling it on the next second.

Seungcheol reaches out to pull you toward him and you realize he’s not planning on moving. No, he’s planning on you riding him. Which is fine by you since you already went this long without being able to see him. You try to lower yourself down slowly because he’s big and as many times as you’ve fucked him, you’re still never quite ready. But he has other plans and pulls you down in one motion.

“Fuck,” you draw out.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore,” he says in that low voice that shoots straight to your core.

You’re not sure which of you moves first with his hands guiding you as you fuck yourself on him. One of his hands slides up your back and into your hair, pulling it so you arch into him. The new angle has a string of words mixed with moans flying out of your mouth. And it makes it easier for him to pull your nipple between his teeth again. Except this time he doesn’t focus on your nipple. This time he moves to the skin at the side of your breast, sucking hard. Much harder than you sucked earlier. Definitely hard enough to leave a mark. Fucker.

That thought flies out when he snaps his hips into you suddenly, quickening the pace and angling so he’s hitting exactly where you need him too. Each thrust stretches you out and brings you closer to another orgasm. You don’t even register that you’re sensitive from the first. Seungcheol pulls at your hair again and focuses on your exposed neck, a constant contrast of pain and pleasure. He kisses up and down the base before he lands at your pulse point right below your jaw.

“Cheol fuck,” you yell as he sucks another mark into your skin. Another mark reminding you that you’re his.

“Are you close, baby?” he asks when he finishes marking you. “Gonna come for me again?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m so close,” you whine out.

Seungcheol removes his hand from your hair to put both hands on your hips, anchoring you in place while he takes over thrusting into you. You know he must be close too with the way his brow furrows and the way he stutters.

“Fuck baby, come for me, I want to feel you come,” he urges.

It’s all you need and you’re releasing again, a string of fucks leaving your lips as he comes right after you. You try to carefully move through his release before collapsing down on his lap with him still inside you. You lean your head forward onto his shoulder to try and steady your breaths. He kisses lightly along your shoulder, hands trailing absently across your skin.

You like every version of Seungcheol, but you think this version, in the immediate aftermath of fucking him, might be your favorite. The contrast of how soft his touches are does things to your heart that you’re not entirely sure you want to admit. Not to yourself at least.

After another long moment, you gently pull yourself off him and flop back onto your side of the bed. You feel, rather than see, him get off the bed and assume he’s walking off to the bathroom. When he returns with a washcloth a minute later, you’re running your fingers absently along the mark you’re sure he left below your jaw.

“Just in case you forget,” he says before he runs the wet cloth along your skin.

“Forget what?” you question.

“That you’re my girl,” he says. “You can try to be cute and mark my chest or be friends with my members like Jeonghan. But you’re mine.”

“Yes sir,” you say and appreciate the way his eyes darken. Maybe he’s not done with you for the night yet.

thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts <3

#svthub #kvanity #seventeen fic #scoups fanfic #scoups x reader #scoups x you #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines

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yeollie-plz · 6 months

Text

Turtle Dove

Day 2 of Pedromas! | Masterlist

dbf! Joel Miller x Innocent! F! Reader

Synopsis: Being raised in the outbreak there wasn't much room for sexual exploration, until Joel came around.

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ smut, loss of virginity, p in v sex, age gap (reader is mid twenties, Joel is 50 something), kissing, oral f! and m! receiving, daddy kink, reader is innocent but also not so innocent, fingering, unprotected sex

Gif credits to owners!

You were young when the outbreak happened, so you missed out on a lot of milestones. No awkward middle school phase. No prom. No normal teenager relationships.

Sure, there were always boys your age, but they never wanted more than just sex. You knew it was a bit cliché but you wanted your first time to be special. No reason an outbreak should stop your romantic fantasies.

Now you were in your mid twenties and you had yet to even kiss someone. Its not like you were really trying, but it was still a little disappointing. Not to mention your dad was a bit overprotective. You wanted that knight in shining armor to just come in and sweep you off your feet.

Well, that knight did show up. But instead of being in shining armor, he was your dad's best friend, Joel. He was much older than you but that didn't stop you fantasizing about him. Its not like it was ever going to ever happen anyways.

That was until you were pushed into a bathroom by Joel at a party one night. His lips were pushed onto yours. He was like a starving man when he kissed you. It was like he had been waiting for this for a while.

"Can't take the way you look at me anymore. Need to teach you a lesson." He mutters into your mouth, massaging your breast in his hands.

You whimper out his name, as he trails his hands down to your thighs. He hikes your dress up.

"Let me take care of you baby, just need you to be quiet for me. Can you do that?" You nod enthusiastically.

Then he gets down on his knees and eats you out until you are writhing mess under his firm grasp.

That was a week ago and you haven't stopped thinking about it since. And Joel hasn't stopped eye fucking since. One week ago and you hadn't even had your first kiss. Now you were sneaking around stealing glances and kisses with your dad's best friend. He trusted him and now he was all but fucking his little girl.

One night your dad comes to you, telling you that he is leaving for a few days. Without a second thought, he decides to have Joel watch over you in the time being, not suspecting anything to be going. But you smile knowingly. Excited at the prospect of spending alone time with Joel.

The night your dad leaves, you put on your best lingerie, which isn't the best since you are in an apocalypse after all! But it will do, really your main draw will be letting Joel fully have you. Isn't it all guy's fantasy to take a girl's virginity? Well, you're hoping its Joel's fantasy at least.

You find Joel in the living room, reading some book. You silently walk over and grab the book from his hand, closing it you place it onto the table next to you. He cocks his head at you, eyes taking in your half naked form.

"Baby, what are you doing?" He asks in amusement, knowing damn well what you are doing.

"Joel, we are alone. I thought that maybe daddy could help me with something." You had found out one day when the two of you had snuck away into a closet, that Joel enjoyed being called daddy. So, you were now using it to your advantage.

His eyes darken, "What do you need daddy to help with, baby girl?"

"I feel funny down here," you let your fingers tease you swollen clit, "I need daddy to make it feel better."

He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your panties. He stands, now towering over you, he takes your hand and places it on his crotch so you can feel him already hardening.

"Do you think you can help daddy too?" Letting go of your wrist he now reaches behind your neck. His fingers run up the back of your head, brushing through your hair, before he pushes you down onto your knees.

"I want to help daddy." You confirm after you are sure you are balanced on your knees.

"Good girl, why don't you help daddy out of his pants then?" Fingers start at the buckle of his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it from his belt loops. Then you start with the button, slowly pulling it and the zipper apart. That's when Joel grabs your head again. He uses his other hand to grab his cock out from his underwear.

"Put it in your mouth before I do it for you." He tugs your head forward, urging you to take his dick. You oblige, running your tongue down the underside of his member before wrapping your lips around it. The hand that is in your hair guides your head into a steady pace. Not too far to choke you but enough that he feels good.

This continues for a few minutes, before he can't take it anymore. Either the pace needed to change or he needed to be inside of you. But he wasn't sure you were ready for that. So he slowly pulled you off of him. You look up at him in confusion. Doe eyes making him almost finish right then and there.

"What exactly do you want daddy to do for you?"

"I want all of you, daddy." Shit, apparently you were ready for that.

"Stand up." He orders, you do. "I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."

Your eyes lock onto his, "I want you inside of me. I want daddy to take care of me." A flicker of mischief flashes behind your eyes, Joel catches it.

He grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. Joel carries you down the hall and into your room. Throwing you onto the bed he hovers over you, smirking at you before going down between your legs.

A finger makes contact lightly with the rapidly soaking material of your underwear. He teases you lightly before slipping his finger into the waistband, pulling them down your legs. Now feeling your full wetness, he lets a finger slip pass your entrance. He pumps in and out of you slowly, causing you to wriggle under his grasp.

He lowers his head down and gives a light lick to your clit before pulling back to gauge your reaction. Eyes closed, back arched, your face is already contorting in extreme pleasure.

Deciding that he can't wait any longer, Joel pulls his finger out of you, gaining a whimper from you. He sits up and pulls his shirt up over his head.

"Baby, I need you to look at me." You do. "I'm gonna put my dick inside you now so I need you to look at me." A nod.

Slowly he presses the tip of his dick to your entrance, easing it in just a bit. He feels you clench in anticipation, pushing him out. Your hand reaches up to grab his hip in shock. He takes your hand in his.

"Relax, baby, let it happen. Let daddy take care of you." At his words, you breathe out trying to relax yourself. It works and he pushes fully inside of you.

Your hand grips his, hard. He waits to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hand starts to loosen, he takes this as a sign to pull slowly out of you. You whine at the movement.

"Are you, okay?" He questions after your sound.

You nod, "Yeah, it was just a bit painful at first."

"Do you want me to stop?" The hand in yours squeezes slightly to keep your attention on his. The other one strokes your hip, the callouses on his fingers send a shiver through your spine.

You shake your head, "No, please, I want this."

He nods, "The pain will fade in a minute." A peck to your lips.

His pace is slow as he thrusts back into you, head tossing back at the feeling of your walls wrapping around him. As he pulls out again, he lets out a groan.

"Fuck, so tight around me." He thrusts fully into you while he speaks. You moan as he bottoms out.

He keeps the rhythm slow and steady, letting you get used to and start to enjoy the new feeling. On instinct your hips buck you to meet his. Then all of a sudden he stops. He drops your hand and grabs your hips tight, keeping you still.

“Hold still or I won’t be able to hold back.” He says through gritted teeth, while concentrating on holding back his orgasm.

His breathing slows again before he speaks, “Sorry baby, but I’m not as young as I used to be.” His fingers tap your hips as he starts to move again. His thrusts continue to be slow, but now they seem a bit more careful.

"Daddy, please, I want to see you cum because of me." You admit, trying to show that you didn't mind if he couldn't hold it off for much longer. He grunts at your words.

"Fuck, you can't say those things to me. You're too good to me, baby doll." His pace now quickens with the memory of your words swimming around in his head.

He gets sloppier as he gets quicker, now seeming to be chasing that peak. Joel reaches down between your thighs and rubs your clit.

"Want you to cum with me, baby. Do you think you can do that for daddy?" You nod in response.

He works your clit in circles, quickly getting you to your own peak. Just as your orgasm is about to wash over you, his hips stutter a bit. He recovers quickly and works your clit faster. You clench onto his cock.

A few more thrusts before you are to your edge again, your walls clench onto him again. One more circle on your clit and you are thrown over the edge, spasming around his member. You writhe with the intense feeling of your orgasm.

The intensity of your orgasm seems to also throw him over the edge as he quickly pulls out of you. Working his cock in a fast motion, before cumming all over your stomach and tits. He groans while working himself through his high.

Joel slumps onto the bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into him. His warmth radiates around you, letting sleep overcome you quickly. Just as your breaths even out, Joel places a kiss onto the crown of your head.

"Goodnight, my little dove."

<- Previous Day | Next Day ->

Taglist:

@britlord @kittenlittle24 @godlypresley

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cheriladycl01 · 5 months

Text

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Credit to yrsonpurpose for the GIF

Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.

And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.

You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.

Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.

"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.

"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.

"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.

"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.

"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.

"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.

"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.

"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.

"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.

"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.

"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.

"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.

"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.

"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.

"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.

"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.

"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.

As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.

"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.

Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.

You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.

You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.

"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.

"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.

"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.

"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.

"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.

To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.

The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.

Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.

An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.

You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.

You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.

"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"

Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places

"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.

"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"

Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.

"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.

"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.

"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"

"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.

"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"

"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.

"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.

"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.

"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.

"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.

"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"

"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.

Would Oscar be there?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri series #oscar piastri angst

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matryosika · 5 months

Text

Mark; Power Dynamic and Other Analysis

Wordcount: 1,065 words Includes: Silly little headcanons Genre: Smut, 18+ Author’s note: This is purely based on my imagination and the vibes I get from him. You may or may not agree with me, and that’s completely okay —this is only me free associating for a thousand words straight. Please enjoy whatever this is, and don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me! Credits: MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune !

First things first, I sense that Mark loves to be in control.

With that being said, I honestly don't picture him as a hard dominant. He might not even care about roles, anyway, but he is naturally leaning towards the dominant side.

He is really playful with the role, though. Mark is such a tease, and really creates an environment in which you can feel comfortable. He takes it upon himself to reassure you in every step of the fucking way —if he feels like you’re shying away from him, he would do anything just to bring you back to him.

For instance, I feel like one of his priorities in bed is to make sure you feel comfortable exposing yourself to him. I can really see him being into body worshiping and might even kneel in front of you and kiss your body from head to toe, whispering sweet nothings while asking all the right questions: "do you like it when I kiss you like this?, "does it feel good?", "do you want me touch you here?", and so on.

Despite the natural dominance I see in him, I do feel like he can get needier and more desperate than you, and he is not really ashamed of expressing it. This man is whiny, might even beg you to let him please you. And it's good that he is very talkative, because I just know his voice gets deeper and raspier in sexual contexts. At the same time, he is not really that loud; it's all whispers and murmurs, half of his words are muffled because he just has to have his lips attached to your skin and flesh.

But when I say he is talkative, I mean it. The type to curse under his breath, and even start rambling about how much he loves you and how good you're making him feel. At one point he stops making any sense, because he is no longer thinking with his head but his dick.

Mark might seem shy and collected at first, but I feel like the most he progresses into a sexual encounter, the less timid and more primal he becomes.

But even then, I don't picture him as someone who might enjoy degrading or humiliating you, and certain practices like impact play might be a big no for him. I feel like he could try if you asked him to, but I don't think he would enjoy it just for the sake of slapping or spanking you. If he does enjoy it, it's probably out of ego —the fact that you're trusting him enough to ask him such things, and that you're enjoying them.

But, willingly, I don't think Mark would ever inflict pain on you like that.

Overstimulation and denial, however, are a whole other topic for him. He doesn't mind hurting you a little if he knows you can take it, and that it can become pleasure in exchange for a little pain —the way he proves your loyalty is through how good you're at following his orders and how willing you're to leave your pleasure aside, or endure a little pain, just because he asked you to.

Mark is a hopeless romantic, and that translates into sex as a somewhat possessive partner. He is only yours, as long as you prove to him that you're only his. He is going to love you passionately if only you can do the same for him; he never hesitates when it comes to you, and he expects you to be the same when it comes to him.

Because of this passion and intensity, I think he is very much the jealous type. Get jealous easily, and might act a little bit impulsive on it. Also, he isn't afraid of bringing said topics with you —if something bothers him, he will tell you without beating around the bush. It may conflict him, and he might get shy when talking to you about whatever it was that upsetted him, but he never keeps such things for himself.

That's kind of relevant because I think the possessive, jealous part of him really makes an appearance in bed —he wants to hear you say how you belong to him, and him only; how your body it's only his to touch and kiss, how you don't want anyone else but him.

Mark wants everything there is of you —your mind, heart and body.

And that's why sex is always so intense; not necessarily rough, but emotionally I feel like he brings a shit ton of vulnerability and he needs you to do the same. Sex with him it's always so fucking intimate, and it can get really filthy because trust is one of the most important things for him —he doesn't care about the mess, as long as it is your mess (with this I mean like certain fluids or things one might find disgusting, but to him they really aren’t).

He might be an experimentalist; he is willing to try everything at least once before deciding if he is into it or not. He’s also pretty good at communicating and putting his thoughts and emotions into words, so that gives me the impression that he is really in touch with himself and his preferences.

So, going back to the power dynamic bit, I don't see Mark willingly and fully submitting to you. Although I said he might not even care about those sorts of roles, I feel like he is the most comfortable with being in charge of your pleasure and his. For some it might be a burden, but not for him —he leans towards dominance naturally, not to assert it but because he likes it.

Mark is always gentle, but in the midst of things I really believe he can manhandle you unintentionally. He might squeeze your hands a bit too harshly, or grip your hips a bit too rough; not to hurt you, but because he loses his mind in between. He gets so drunk on you and your body, that he just forgets the whole world surrounding him but you.

To wrap things up, I must say he is a fucking great kisser. I do see him as someone who kisses sloppily, but in a "I definitely know what I'm doing" kind of way. He bites, and uses tongue, and just makes sure to kiss you deeply until your mouth is full of him. Mark either places his hands on each side of your face or takes you by your waist to press his body against yours.

#nct smut #mark smut #kpop smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #mark lee smut

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httpsdana · 3 months

Note

Request: 148 Héctor Fort

Only Yours~Héctor Fort

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

completely devastated after yesterday's match with Pedri and Frenkie injured. We can't seem to get a break unfortunately :( anyways enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

148-"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine."

This takes place after the barca/villareal match (i died that day)

The disappointing match has finally ended. Barca losing 5-3 to the 15th place Villareal. Hector has played an amazing match, starting with the team and later on being subbed off.

The whole team was devastated, not only them but also the fans were frustrated. y/n knew Hector would be fuming, so she kept a note to herself to measure her words before speaking.

Walking down to the tunnel, she just wanted to check on Hector before he goes to the lockers where the team will probably have a small meeting.

She stood in the tunnel as the players started walking down, greeting politely the ones she knew, before her favorite player (after Hector ofc) appeared. Pedri smiled at slightly, walking to greet her.

"hola hermosa. how are you?" he asked with his usual charming smile, that seemed a bit upset this time.

y/n blushed slightly at the nickname, before waking herself from her trance, and smiling at him.

"I'm good. nice goal out there. shame it didn't end like we wanted" she said, while he nodded sorrow taking over his features

"yeah...not how we wanted it, but we'll come back I'm sure" he gave her an encouraging smile

She nodded, agreeing with his statement. They stood in silence for a while, before Pedri spoke up again.

"waiting for Hector I assume?" he asked, while she nodded and mumbled a small yes, glancing over his shoulder to see if he arrived.

"well I'm gonna go now. it was nice talking to you" he gave her a small hug before he flashed a smile and walked down the tunnel.

As Pedri disappeared, Hector stood on the top of the tunnel, rage taking over his eyes and face. y/n assumed it was because of the match, little did she know Hector had seen every interaction she had wit his teammate, and let the jealousy take over.

"hi amor. you did so good today" she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Instead of his usual hug, he just put a hand on her back and pulled away.

"I have to go. we have a small meeting" he avoided her eyes and started to walk away

"I'll wait in the car" she said in a high voice.

He didn't say anything and kept walking down the tunnel. She felt something off about him, but brushed it off and started her small walk to where she had parked her car.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, Hector arrived, seemingly taking a shower already. He opened the passenger door and got in his seat, not saying a word. When y/n opened her mouth to say something, he beat her to it.

"Xavi is leaving at the end of the season" he mumbled, crossing his arms around his chest. y/n was left in shock, not expecting it. Xavi means a lot to Hector because of the opportunity he gave to him with the first team. What y/n didn't know was that Hector's anger wasn't because of Xavi.

The drive home was silent, the tension between the two can be cut with a knife. When they arrived home, Hector was quick to leave the car and slam the door behind him. y/n rolled her eyes and followed him inside.

"so what's with your mood swings now?" she stood in front of him with her arms crossed

"you're talking about my mood swings? why don't you talk about your flirting with my teammates huh?" he said angrily, standing up from the couch he was sitting on

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she said back in the same tone

"did you think I didn't see you with Pedri? I saw every interaction between you too, and you were enjoying it way too much" he rambled, his voice loud and angry.

y/n stood for a second taking in what he said, she did nothing wrong with Pedri but knowing Hector he got jealous over anything.

"really Hector? you're jealous of your teammate? me and him are friends and you know it. YOU were the one who introduced us, why so jealous now then huh?" she raised her eyebrow waiting for his answer

"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine." he said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while he stood close to her, looking down at her frame that seemed shorter than his

"I'm dating you not him Hector. grow the fuck up please. talk to me when you realize how stupid all this was" she said calmly, leaving him in the living room while she left to the bedroom.

After about 10 minutes, Hector made y/n and himself some tea and took their mugs to the room. He knocked on the door with his foot before pushing the door open.

''hey baby...I made you some tea" he said in a low voice, walking to her side of the bed. She was reading a book, so she closed it and took the mug from him.

"thank you" she mumbled

"I'm sorry for the scene I made. I was already fuming after the match and I guess seeing you with Pedri just made me angrier. I didn't mean for it to end like this and I don't wanna sleep knowing you're still mad at me." he said sincerely, reaching over to brush some hair from her face. She smiled at his apology, kissing the hand on her face and reaching over to hug him

"it's okay babe, just don't do it again. I wouldn't leave you for anyone else. I love you too much to do that" she smiled, him smiling wider

He pressed a kiss on her lips and sat next to her enjoying their cup of tea with some chit chats

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decorativetrashbag · 3 months

Text

Cup of Coffee, and a Tall Glass of You

Parings: Sanji x Female Reader Summary: Zeff hired a barista for the restaurant, FINALLY, but Sanji wasn't expecting a girl, let alone one as beautiful as you. He can handle his coffee, but can he handle a dollop of falling in love? Warnings: None! like 2 instances of Y/N Genre: Fluff, Modern AU, Barista AU Words: 3.7k

a/n: this one's been asked for, and at my barista job, i had nothing better to do BUT write this. I think this is the only story i started writing, then rewrote all of it lol. enjoy it! <3

“I wonder if we have potatoes…” Sanji mumbled to himself in the empty kitchen as he whisked the eggs He had just cracked into the bowl. It was about 5:45 am now, but Sanji always came to work early to prepare breakfast. Most of the other chefs start rolling in about 6:20, and as much as Sanji loved the sound of a bustling kitchen, he'd be lying if he didn't say he enjoyed the quiet, empty moments too. Even though he had to follow the menu Zeff always posted the night before, cooking in the kitchen alone gave him a bit of freedom. He was pulled out of his thoughts about what dish to make with potatoes when he heard the door open and Zeff entering the kitchen.

“Morning, old man,” Sanji said, adding the seasonings to the eggs.

“You’re always here so early, Sanji,” Zeff replied with a thunderous chuckle.

“Breakfast isn't going to serve itself,” Sanji stated, incorporating the scrambled egg mix again.

“We have chefs that can do that too,” Zeff said, hobbling over on his fake leg to look over the blonde's shoulder.

“I know,” Sanji said, rolling his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zeff nod at his work and lean on the counter.

“Trust in the kitchen Sanji, they do hard work,” He said. Sanji chuckled.

“I would if they knew what they were doing most of the time,” the comment made Zeff laugh and pat Sanji’s back.

“I'll give you credit for that I guess.”

“Why are you here so early? Are we getting a shipment in or something?” Sanji asked, setting down the bowl of eggs and fishing his phone out of his pocket for the time. Zeff hummed and walked over to a shelf to grab another mixing bowl.

“I’m here early cause we have a new hire. Finally got us a barista to handle the morning crowd from that hotel ‘cross the way,” he said, as Sanji’s ears perked up with interest.

“You hired someone?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and without your opinion either,” Zeff chuckled.

“Well, is he any good?” Sanji asked, getting out a pan to preheat it on the stove. Zeff sighed as he set down a bag of flour.

“She has experience, so she knows what she's doing,” Zeff said, which caused Sanji to stop what he was doing and look up at the older man. “I've already trained her on the basics, she's got a cheat sheet if she forgets.”

“Back up, she?” Sanji asked, now fully turning towards him. “Is she here??”

“She is, she walked in after I did.” Before Sanji could even start walking towards the kitchen door Zeff grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don't go flirting with my barista,” He said in a low and stern tone.

“I'm not gonna flirt with her, what makes you think that?” Sanji laughed nervously.

“Cause the second I said she, ya got heart eyes. Eggplant, I know you're a ladies man. If you weren’t complaining about being a waiter for the first couple weeks of us opening, you were laying charm on the women sittin at tables.” Sanji frowned a bit at the call out, but Zeff wasn't lying. He knew he was a little girl crazy, and was the cause of a lot of fights. Zeff let go of his arm and sighed.

“You can introduce yourself to her, just don't make her uncomfortable.” Sanji grinned as Zeff turned him back to the pan on the stove.

“Scramble these eggs first, since you're already here. You can check out the station after, and I need your help making the pastries to sell out there.” Sanji sighed but turned on the stove anyway.

“Fair point, finishing cooking what I started. I'll greet her on my smoke break.” Zeff hummed in approval as the two began cooking breakfast and making the pastries. Slowly but surely more chefs started rolling in for their shifts and before Sanji knew it they were open for the day and the kitchen was bustling and busy, the quiet morning evaporating like the steam off the fresh pastries Zeff pulled out of the oven.

Around 10:30 am Sanji wiped his hands on the towel draped across his shoulder and walked through the kitchen over to Zeff, fishing the cigarette box out of his pocket.

“I'll be back in like, 15,” Sanji said, waving the box to him and Zeff nodded.

“We'll take it from here,” he said as Sanji left the kitchen. He briskly walked by tables of people dining, stopping occasionally to ask customers how their meal was. Walking out of the second room of tables, Sanji reached the front of the restaurant, starting to pick up with the brunch crowd, the host trying to seat people, waiters bustling around the tables to meet people's needs. And there, in the corner of the front of the restaurant, next to the bar, was the new barista. He watched your set down a couple to-go cups, lidded them, and sent a customer on their way with a smile, doing the same for someone who ordered a pastry, judging by the to-go box you handed them. Though he was known to be a little girl-crazy, and seen his fair share of beautiful women, he admitted he was a bit taken aback. You were definitely up there with some he found beautiful. He made his way over to you as customers exited the restaurant or went to be seated, greeting them as he passed them. Sanji finally made his way up to you, placing his hands on either side of the register and looking up at the menu, studying the options. He looked around your little corner as you served people, you were pretty set up for handling customers. A dishwasher, two sets of fridges, one with windows in to see the bottled stuff, a countertop oven, a place to brew more coffee, the big espresso machine he knew Zeff poured a lot of money into, syrups, cups, lids, ice maker. All you needed was a stove and you'd have a whole kitchen.

“Have a good one guys! Oh! Hey you work here right?” You asked him, pulling Sanji back to reality and you leaned on the counter in front of him. He blushed a little being up close to you, quickly trying to study every detail of your face before he answered.

“I do, yeah!” He started sticking his hand out for you to shake. You took his hand and gave it a gentle handshake, Sanji could almost feel the sparks from fingertips brushing and hands meeting. He took your hand and gingerly kissed the back of it. “I'm Sanji,” He winked, watching your cheeks grow a light pink dust of blush.

“Oh, you're Sanji,” you chuckled, “that makes sense now.”

“You know?” Sanji asked, it tugged at his heart to hear you say his name.

“Zeff told me all about you. I'm Y/N,” you said as he let your hand go, feeling the electric tingle sizzle away as you left his touch. He cursed Zeff in his head for filling your brain with info about him, for probably exaggerating how he acts towards women and silently thanking Zeff for putting the idea of him in your thoughts.

“Y/N, well it's nice to meet you! Zeff told him he hired someone, didn't know it'd be a beautiful rose like you,” Sanji said, really laying on his quintessential charm.

“Yeah! He trained me all weekend so I feel pretty familiar with everything.” All weekend? No wonder he was out of the loop, he took the weekend off to spend time with Luffy and the gang.

“How are the pastries doing?” Sanji asked, the chef side of him curious about the work he put into helping make the pastries today. The both of you looked at the case, the fresh pastries sitting on plates ready for the perusing eyes of people.

“Good! Had a lot of to-go's for them, they must look as good as they taste,” you said.

“Well Zeff and I did bake them this morning, so I'd hope they'd be enjoyed.” He said, watching you blush a little and look at him.

“You made them this morning?? Oh wow! Usually the places I've worked at make them the night before!” Watching your amazement at the idea of them baking the pastries fresh made his heart squeeze in his chest. He was smitten, you were adorable to him.

“Well, glad you're settling in just fine! It can be hectic but if Zeff trusts you, then so do I,” he smiled, finally pulling a cigarette out of the box, about to make his leave.

“Oh! Sanji! Did you need anything from me?” You asked, leaning onto the counter and looking up at him, tilting your head a little at your own question. Sanji looked at you, blinking a bit as he felt his cheeks get hot. Not only did you call him by name, but asked him if he needed anything from you. Of course he could think of a million flirtatious answers, he felt like he might be thrown back in happiness and a nosebleed, or that he could drop dead right now and be the happiest he's been. Sanji, cleared his throat, cheeks burning with blush as he just smiled.

“Maybe I'll grab a coffee later! Just wanted to say hi and all that,” he said, feeling like words were just falling out of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you!” You said giving him a wave as he walked outside.

“Pleasure's all mine!” Sanji waved back, once he got out of view, he lit his cigarette and leaned against the wall. He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the heat of blush on his face. He exhaled a stream of smoke, but to him it looked like hearts, and it might as well have been.

“God, she's so cute,” he mumbled, a bit lovesick already.

~4 months later~

Sanji always looked forward to work. He loved cooking, he loved that he could cook for others and see that happy smile on their faces as they ate. He loved the creative freedom Zeff would let him have once in a while for a dish and be lucky if it made the daily special. He loved getting to work early to start prepping for the day, and he loved you. Of course he hadn't told you yet, but he loved getting to work at the same time as you, he loved when you asked for his help, he loved getting the coffee on break and opening it to see the heart in the latte art. He adored when you asked if he needed anything else from you, he'd hold his tongue and say something polite, but in his dreams he'd pull out the lines he wished he could say.

On a slower day, You and Sanji were talking as the few tables used were cleaned off. Both of you leaned over the counter as you watched Sanji carefully ice one of the delicate pastries.

“I don't think I've ever seen it so slow in here,” you remarked as Sanji pulled the piping bag away.

“It's an early weekday, it happens every now and again,” He said, leaning back over the pastry.

“You wanna coffee?” You asked, “I feel like I should at least look busy.”

“That sounds amazing actually, usual vanilla latte for me,” He said, looking up at you with a smile as you nodded and went off to make it. He pulled the piping bag away one last time and admired his work, finally setting it down and watching you work. It has been about 4 months since you started here, and Sanji has never skipped a beat in saying hello to you every morning and taking in every word you had to say on his break. Since your shift ends around noon, he felt it best to soak up every ounce of you before you'd run off for the rest of the day. Even then, he still thought about you, he was a flirt and a ladies man, sure, but when it came to you, he didn't know how to act, what to say, how to express himself. It made him a mess, a love sick mess. Sanji was brought back to reality with the mug being placed in front of him with that heart shaped latte art. He smiled.

“You always give me a heart,” he said, taking a sip.

“It's one of the few I've got down to a habit,” you chuckled, looking at the pastry. “Wow, you did a great job! If no one eats it, I might!” He felt a tug as you pulled at his heart strings. He wasn't worthy of you eating his food, and he certainly wasn't worthy of the praise.

“You'll have to tell me how it is,” he said, watching you put it in the case.

“Well, you should cook for me sometime, since I keep hearing how good of a cook you are,” you said, resting your hand on your cheek.

“I'd love to, dear, say the word and I'll do it,” He flirted, happy to see you laugh at it. He has slowly been trying to be more bold with you, and it seemed you were used to it at this point.

“Coffee's good?” You asked as he finished the rest of the small mugs worth.

“Perfect as always, I'll make you food, if you keep making me coffee,” he said, leaning on both his arms resting on the counter.

“Sounds like a deal,” you chuckled, pink dusting your cheeks as he looked at you.

“Need anything else from me, Sanji?” God, it killed him every time. The sweet look you gave him, saying his name sounded like honey dripping into tea, his heart squeezed and did flips when you asked. It felt like you were teasing him every time you asked, just pushing his buttons to get him to confess. He needed you, and all to himself.

“Well, maybe your number?” Sanji flirted, unable to help himself anymore, he was wrapped around your finger whether you knew or not. Your cheeks get rosy as you blinked.

“My number?” You asked, a little stunned but raise your eyebrow with a small smile in reply. “4 months of us knowing each other, Sanji, and you just got the courage to ask?”

“Well it felt weird asking you out right, and Zeff warned me against flirting with you, buuut you keep teasing me and now I have to ask,” Sanji admitted, leaning closer to you. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“I'm a tease?” You chuckled and Sanji nodded. “You know, when they said you were a huge flirt and a playboy, I definitely saw it, but man, you can be a mess.”

“Only around you, I don't know why, I'm just smitten by you,” He said with a softened tone and look in his eyes that made you blush. You managed to fumble pulling the pen out of your apron pocket and rolled out some receipt paper and began writing. He had never seen you so flustered unless you messed up an order, one in a blue moon, it was adorable, it made him swoon inside.

“Plus, you're like one of the main things I look forward to coming to work,” he explained, causing you to look up from your writing.

“What's the other main thing?”

“Cooking,” He said plainly.

“Cooking?” You asked, certainly not believing him. “You like cooking that much?”

“Of course! Look, everyone that comes here enjoys their food. Right?”

“Yeah, customers always tell me, always a rave review.”

“I love cooking and seeing the happy smiles on their faces eating my food. To make good food, to not ever let any go to waste, and that no one walks away hungry.” Sanji explained as you looked at him paying attention to every gesture and word he said. You chuckled a little.

“I don't think I've seen or heard anyone be as passionate about cooking as you. You must be amazing at it.” You said, finishing your writing.

“I'll have to cook for you sometime,” Sanji smiled, taking out a cigarette and sticking it between his lips unlit.

“That's what you can use my number for,” You teased, snapping your fingers like the idea just came to you. Sanji happily played along.

“Oh yeah! Just call you to come over and try my cooking! Didn't even cross my mind.” He said.

You pushed the piece of paper over to him and he took it, folded it and put it in his pocket.

“Gotta keep it safe,” he said with a wink. Suddenly the moment was interrupted by Zeff calling for Sanji.

“Sanji! What'd I say about making googly eyes at my barista??” Zeff interrupted thunderously, chucking a ladle at him. Quick reflexes cause Sanji to kick-box it out of the way back towards Zeff.

“I'm not making her uncomfortable, old man! Watch where you throw!’ Sanji shouted back.

“All that kicking doesn't do anything for this kitchen except break up fights!” You then chimed in and said;

“It's fine Zeff, he's not bothering me.” Zeff softened at your comment and nodded, picking up the ladle and pointing it at both of you.

“If he makes you uncomfortable, I'll take care of him,” he said, hobbling back to the kitchen.

“Mmm, you're in trouble now” you teased the blonde cook, who chuckled in reply.

“Well, duty calls, thanks for the coffee!”

“Let me know if you need anything from me!” You waved and Sanji almost swooned at the idea, of course he could always need something from you, just for the excuse of taking your time.

~2 months later~

Sanji awoke to the sound of his phone alerting him that he had a message. Fighting every part of him telling him don’t look, just lay here and try to fall back asleep, he rolled over and picked up his phone anyway. The time of 9:00 am looked back at him. Normally he’d be up at the crack of dawn to get to work for Zeff’s restaurant, but he slept in enough today. It was a message from Zeff with the photo of the menu for next week’s specials attached.

“I'm not even gonna worry about that right now,” he said, putting his phone down and sitting up in bed. “It’s my day off, I'm going to enjoy it.” With that sentiment in mind, he got out of bed and got ready for the day. He pulled on a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, nothing compared to his usual look of dress pants and a crisp button down shirt. As he got dressed the smell of coffee wafted through the air, and he put his phone in his pocket, following the enticing smell into the kitchen. The sight of the kitchen made him smile, sunlight was already creeping through the apartment windows as you stood in the kitchen, pouring espresso into a couple mugs and steaming milk on his espresso machine. He admired your concentration that he'd normally see when you're working. Instead of the regular uniform, you were wearing one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up, it was just big enough to pass as a short dress on you. Being as quiet as he could, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Feeling you standing up straight, he nestled his head into your neck.

“Hey, I didn't know you were awake,” you said, tilting the mug as you made a design out of the milk.

“I didn't hear you get up,” Sanji said, intently watching. He knew how to make latte art, but he liked watching you do it.

“Well, lover boy, it seemed like you needed sleep, so I didn't want to wake you.” You explained as you moved to the second mug.

“You didn't have to make coffee, the restaurant's closed today, we're off,” he teased as you chuckled.

“I'm aware, I just thought you wanted coffee. It's not hard to do, it only took me like, 10 minutes to figure out your machine.” Sanji hummed, planting a kiss on your neck.

“You're all the morning coffee I need, love,” he purred, and you laughed.

“You love sick dork,” you said, turning to face him in his arms, handing Sanji the mug as he broke the hug. “I didn't know you had the same coffee as work.”

“Of course, who do you think told Zeff to get it in the first place?” He asked as you rolled your eyes.

“Should've known.Are you gonna cook for me today?” You asked, looking up at him as you sipped.

“Princess, I'd cook for you, even if you didn’t ask,” Sanji winked, making you smile.

“I can cook too, ya know,” you said and Sanji chuckled.

“You'll have to show me sometime.”

“You have my number,” you teased as he set the mug on the counter and pulled you back in his arms.

“God I love you,” He sighed happily. You set your mug down and put his arms around your arms around his neck.

“I'd hope so! You've texted me everyday for the past couple months, call me over. I'm not sure how a big handsome flirt like you managed to do it.” You chuckled.

“You're no better! Everyday I looked at your sweet face and asked me if I needed anything from you and I could've died on the spot, or said a flirty line! But I braved it.” He laughed.

“I wasn't trying to tease, I was asking! You always came over to talk to me!” You laughed. Sanji just smiled, taking one of his hands and putting a finger under your chin.

“I'm just unworthy of you Princess,” he purred, leaning down and kissing you gently. You happily kissed back, letting your fingers play with the back of his hair. You tasted like coffee, he tasted like cigarettes. He hoisted you up and sat you on the counter, his arms around your waist, your legs around his hips. And as he kissed you, Sanji swore he could die happy, flirting with the cute barista was a million percent worth it.

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th3-c0rps3-r0gu3 · 5 days

Text

Parties.

Pairing: Natasha X fem reader

Fluff :)

Warnings: none I think. Nat being jealous hehe

The start is written by @azaleavolkova so full credits to them!

Nats pov:

As per the end of a tough mission, a stark party was thrown. Probably one of the biggest yet, all paid for by Stark. I don't even think he monitors or has anyone to monitor who comes in. And that's why I'm here, I was invited as a plus one, to my beloved soon-to-be spouse. Yes, I'm engaged. And yes, I love them as much as my heart can. I mean, I'm constantly thinking about them.

Anyway, here I am, in the elevator at the Avengers Tower, in a black, long flowy dress, the straps of the dress wrapped delicately around my neck. Along with the dress, I have a cute little moonstone teardrop pendant with little tree branches on the sides on my neck, completing my outfit.

A ding rang throughout the elevator, the doors opening soon after. My eyes widen almost immediately after I saw how many people were here. I quickly regained my composure, walking through the doors confidently, looking around the room and seeing widen eyes, even some dropped jaws.

"Pick up your jaws, or else a fly will get it's way into it." As soon as I said that, a little fly flew its way into one of the guests' mouths, being spit out just as quickly as it went in.

I roll my eyes and walk through the crowds. Ignoring the stares and attention. My eyes searching for my fiancee. But unfortunately they aren't here yet. I silently curse and walk down to the bar.

Its been half an hour. I'm on the sidelines of the party mainly surveying the entry. But since my fiancee hasn't shown up yet I've decided to amuse the men that have conveniently surrounded me and offered drinks or a cigarette. Eventually I take one of the men up on their offer and take a glass of champagne from the man.

The guy himself isn't too bad looking. He has dark messy hair and brown eyes of the chocolate variety and if I wasn't engaged and in a happy relationship I would've given him a shot. But I found the love of my life and have no interest in the guy.

I chat amongst the men. My eyes lingering on the entrance. Though another blond man blocks my view leaving me slightly pissed. Now how am I meant to see my glorious fiancee when they walk in!?

It's been another half hour. I'm almost sick of the men. I'm holding my third glass of champagne and yet they still haven't shown up yet. I think atleast. That is until a group of men part slightly and I see her.

There standing in a teal dress that blends into navy blue is my fiancee y/n. And she looks gorgeous. Her hair styled into a braided crown. My eyes glued. I don't even remember the fact I'm surrounded by men until one speaks up about how he'd take my woman. I am now very tempted to rip his head off. But y/n would be disappointed if I ruined this night to I refrain till later.

"hold my drink boys. I'm going in."

I smirk as I hand one of the men my glass. His mouth opening slightly. I fix my red hair and step away from the group, ignoring the shocked stares from the men who thought they had a chance. I walk over to the greatest woman in my life and I kiss the back of her hand.

"glad you could join us darling."

I mumble against her skin as I pull y/n close. I've missed her. But I do get a giggle from the love of my life.

"Tasha it seems you have a shocked fan club behind you."

Y/n smiles. I roll my eyes. I could care less for the mob I just left. Instead focusing on y/n.

"let's not discuss them."

I ask as I step away from y/n pulling in her hand. She has pearl bracelets on. They look almost as pretty as she does. Y/n smiles back.

"you seem jealous."

Y/n grins. I look less amused.

"one was being unprofessional when describing a relation he wished to have with you."

I speak low. Jealousy flashing through my eyes. I know it does because y/n laughs.

"don't worry Tasha I only have eyes for you."

The affirmative voice calms down the green monster inside me. I pull y/n into a kiss she easily reciprocates. I want to hold onto the moment forever.

A/n: This is a work that was started by @azaleavolkova and full credits to her. The rest of the fic is my own original work however. The first four paragraphs were written by @azaleavolkova.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #black widow #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #black widow x reader

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brbsoulnomming · 3 months

Text

Static

Steve's never certain if he hates walking through the crowds after a match or not. Sometimes, when he walks back to his flat, all bloody and bruised and exhausted, the press of so many other people feels oppressive. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist, that he's in a little bubble of his own space and nothing can touch him. But sometimes, even though there's an edge of pain in every step, the bustle of people reminds him of why he does this, reminds him of everyone he's trying to protect and everything he wants to be able to keep on going exactly as it is.

Today is not a hates day.

Today the crowds feel warm and full of energy, and he basks in it, lets the feel of so much life wash over him.

Today he buys sunflowers at his favorite florist, listening to the soft hum of bees he can hear in the back of their shop. Today he asks if they have any honey, tucks a bottle of it into his pocket and sucks on a piece of the soft, sticky candy that Mrs. Anderson makes from it. The augment he keeps for show chimes softly in his ear, alerting him that funds have been withdrawn from his arena account. He doesn't know how much, but it doesn't matter. He trusts Mrs. Anderson enough not to rip him off, and anyway, he makes more than enough from his fights to get anything he wants.

It'd be enough to get out of this place ten times over, if the credits Creel gave his gladiators were good anywhere else but the citydome he runs.

Mrs. Anderson wraps up his flowers for him, and Steve gives her a warm smile when she gives him an extra one for his girl.

He can't remember if she thinks his girl is Robin, or Nancy, or Max, or Erica, or El, but it doesn't really matter.

They're all his girls, and he'd do absolutely anything at all to give them the world.

He settles the bouquet under his arms, counts the flowers - there's enough to give each of them two, but he knows he won't see them in person any time soon.

It's been quiet enough that he might have suggested a meet up, but there's… something that stops him. Steve doesn't know what it is, can't put words to what he's picked up on, but it settles heavy in the pit of his stomach. He's learned the hard way to listen to it.

They can't risk it.

Static blares in his mind as he opens his communication link, feeling out for who's listening in and smiling to himself when he senses El.

El's favorites are sunflowers, same as him. They're Max's favorites, too, but only because he knows they remind her of El.

‘Sunflowers!’ El says immediately, delighted.

‘Fresh cut,’ he tells her. ‘Want to smell?’

Her presence is suddenly much stronger in his mind, and he dutifully leans in to pull in a deep breath, holds it for a few moments, then lets the honey candy in his mouth settle right over his tongue.

There's a pleased little sigh, a soft touch of gratitude, then she withdraws.

‘When's your next match?’ Lucas asks.

‘In two days,’ Steve replies.

There's no response, not even a wordless one, but Steve knows Lucas well enough to tell that he's disappointed. Two days isn't enough time for him to sneak out, let alone have a Creel sanctioned vacation.

‘It's not the same without you here.’ Dustin's voice is colored with disappointment, too, and Steve can feel the sharpness of what he isn't saying.

‘I know, buddy. I miss you guys, too.’

He wishes he could tell them that it wouldn't be much longer. Steve's got plenty on Henry Creel, more than enough to have made this mission a success already, but they're never going to get an opportunity like this again.

He needs to stay as long as possible.

‘I'll ask for a vacation after my next couple of matches. How did your collaboration with Suzie go?’

Steve listens to the Party over the comm links for a little while longer, just to keep his own longing for home at bay, until he gets out of the busy part of the citydome and has to say goodbye.

His head goes silent as he closes his comm link, and he's alone once more - aside from the ever present trace of Robin, all wrapped up in his neural pathways that are more circuits than synapses these days, but she doesn't count. She's as much a part of him as his own thoughts are.

Tension prickles at the back of his neck when he picks up on footsteps approaching, more purposeful than anyone else passing by. Sure enough, someone falls into step with him, and his head jerks over - then relaxes.

“My liege,” Munson greets, throwing a grin at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “What do you want?”

He didn't think it was possible, but Munson's smile widens even more.

“To celebrate!” he announces, arms spread as though gesturing to the wide expanse of celebratory pleasures to be had around them.

Which are exactly none, considering Steve'd already passed the pleasure district. He raises one eyebrow to convey just that.

Munson is undeterred.

“Come on, your Majesty,” he cajoles. “Look at you! First time in weeks that a gladiator walked away from a match with barely a scratch on them! Surely such a transcendent performance from the King is worthy of deigning to mingle with the Freak?”

Steve's going to say yes, he already knows he is, but he makes him wait a little longer, making a big show of sighing and crossing his arms and looking him up and down.

It's then that he sees it.

If Steve was everything he was pretending to be and nothing more, he never would have picked up on anything. There's nothing in Munson's demeanor that is any different from the handful of other times they've caught up with each other for a drink after a match.

It's only because his scans pick up so much more that he detects the unsteady beat of Munson's heart, how he holds himself ready the same way he does in the arena.

And the gun tucked in the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

Right.

Looks like he's out of time here, then.

If Steve's honest, he's a little surprised that it's Munson. The rivalry between the Freak and the King is all for show in the arena - not like it is between him and Billy Hargrove or between Munson and Jason “the Prophet” Carver.

If Steve's even more honest, he's disappointed, in more ways than he can spend time sorting through right now.

“Fine,” he says, letting himself sound long suffering. “Where are we going? I'll swing by home to drop these off and meet you there.”

Something tense but otherwise unreadable flickers behind Munson's eyes, and Steve wonders if he's been ordered not to allow him to leave his sight. He doesn't have a choice, though - it's a reasonable request, exactly what Steve would have said if he hadn't caught on, and his only other option is -

“Allow me to accompany you,” Munson says, bowing low in a show of gallantry.

It's a risk.

Steve's never let another gladiator come to his flat before, and there's very little chance that he'd let Munson come now, even if he didn't realize what Munson's true intentions were. He wonders what the back up plan is if he says no, wonders if Munson will do it right here in the open.

“Why?” Steve asks, unable to stop himself from pushing, even though he knows it's a bad idea.

Munson peeks up from his bow, flutters his lashes, all playful exaggeration. “And risk you backing out and abandoning the likes of little ole me?”

“Never backed out before after I've said yes,” Steve points out, digging in. Pushing harder. “Unless you have a reason for inviting yourself over? Maybe a different kind of celebration in mind?”

Munson tips his head back down, but Steve's scanner can pick up the way he swallows, harsh and rough. “Yeah.” It's flat and hollow, and it immediately sounds wrong to Steve's ears. “Yeah, maybe I had something different in mind.”

That's -

Not what Steve was expecting.

Would he, Steve wonders? Would Munson play that card, even though he clearly doesn't want to, even though he kind of sounds like he hates himself a little for it?

“Hey,” Steve says, unbidden. “I'm just messing with you, man. It's fine, you can come with me to drop them off.”

Steve might be well aware that he's going to have to kill Munson, but he doesn't want to be cruel about it.

Munson straightens, his usual smile back on his face, and he checks his shoulder into Steve's hard enough that it stings a little. “Asshole,” he says.

“You're the one who hangs out with me,” Steve replies.

The crowd thins even more as they move into the residential blocks. They're not going in the direction of Steve's flat - but they are going in a direction that he could live in, and it's not like Munson knows where he actually stays. It's not like Munson knows that Steve's already activated his comm link and told the Party his cover's been blown, and that he has to get out of the citydome tonight.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve asks, slowing to a stop.

Munson hums, looking over at him with a brow raised in question.

Steve pulls the extra sunflower that Mrs. Anderson had given him free from the bouquet, tucks it into the front pocket of Munson's jacket.

“I really am sorry about before, I shouldn't have messed with you like that,” he says.

He's sorry about a lot more than that, but this is what he's got.

Munson's lips twist down, and he sighs as he pushes Steve's hands away - though he leaves the sunflower there.

“Steve,” he says, soft and filled with something like regret.

Nothing follows it.

There's a beat where they look at each other, and Steve thinks -

And then there's the sound of harsh laughter, boots dropping onto the ground as someone swings down from one of the platforms overhead.

“King Steve,” Hargrove drawls. “Sweet on the Freak. You're really making it easy to knock you off that throne, aren't you?”

Shit.

Steve's in worse trouble than he thought.

He steps back automatically, shooting a betrayed little look over at Munson - it's one thing for Munson to be planning on killing him, it's another for him to lead Hargrove to him.

But Munson looks surprised, and then furious, and Steve realizes -

Hargrove isn't here for Steve. Or at least, not just for Steve.

“I told Creel you couldn't do it,” Hargrove tells Munson, voice conversational. “You're all bark and no bite, aren't you?”

“Get the fuck out of here, Hargrove,” Munson says tersely, teeth gritted.

“No can do, Junior,” Hargrove replies. “I have to clean up your mess.”

“You set me up,” Munson bites out. “This was never going to be a fair chance, was it?”

Hargrove shrugs, unconcerned. “You want me to drag you back to Creel to explain yourself, or should I just put you out of your misery here?”

The thing is, Steve thinks Munson would have done it before Hargrove showed up. Steve and Munson are friends, maybe, but loyalty to other gladiators only goes so far, and Creel keeps them all under a heavy thumb. It wouldn't have been anything personal - it would have been just what Munson had to do to survive in this place.

The thing is, Steve knows he would have put a bullet in Munson's brain right here. It would have destroyed a piece of him to do it, he can acknowledge that now, but he would have done it without hesitation if it meant keeping the resistance in general - and the Party in specific - safe.

The thing is, even if Hargrove does kill Steve - even if Munson kills Steve, even if he manages to kill Hargrove before he can report back to Creel - Munson is finished, now. Unfair or not, he's failed the test. There's no going back, not if Creel doesn't trust him, and Steve knows Munson's smart enough to have realized that.

The thing is, if Creel suspected Munson enough to have Hargrove follow him to make sure he got the job done, there must be a reason why, and Steve wants to know it.

‘Change of plans,’ he tells Robin, even though he can already feel her at the back of his mind like fingertips ghosting through his hair, downloading his memories until she's caught up. She already knows exactly what he's going to do.

The piece of him that would have died with Eddie Munson finally settles into place, the circuitry that makes up more of him than he usually lets on humming softly in his veins as it adjusts to account for it.

Steve swings around to stand in front of Eddie, and plants his feet.

“If you want him,” he says, and he can hear the echo of it through the static of his communication link, calm and determined.

Steve's never felt more steady than he does when he's standing between a looming threat and one of the people who've become part of the very core of him.

“You'll have to go through me.”

Hargrove sneers at him. “You can barely hold your own against me in the arena.”

“The arena’s all show.” Steve laughs, a little mean. “You think I'm sitting here with prototype Harrington augments and all they've got is what you've seen?”

He's not sure why he's keeping up the pretense that he's nothing more than what he seems. If Creel is sending people to kill him, he has to know Steve's part of the Party. But it's ingrained in him, somehow, to protect them until his last breath, whether it's artificial or not.

The question makes Hargrove scoff, and Steve swings at him.

Hargrove lets it hit, laughs at him again with blood dripping from his mouth, and then -

They've fought in the arena, before. Not often, because they're brutal with each other, and because Creel knows their matches always draw a massive crowd and likes to drag out the tension, keep the audience wanting more.

This is nothing like that.

Despite their brutality, there's an element of safety in arena matches. The punishment for killing one of Creel's gladiators is harsh and swift, and so they're almost never in any real danger.

This is - Steve can see the hatred in Hargrove's eyes, same as he always does, but now there's intent, now Hargrove's own augments have been let loose, and there's more power behind every punch than Steve's ever felt before.

Steve's starting to think the only way he can beat Hargrove is to really let himself go, and it makes his heart quicken, makes the dread in his chest coil tighter and tighter - makes Robin even more present in his mind, makes her whisper ‘you have to, it's okay, I'm here, I won't let you lose yourself,’ -

Until a shot rings out, clipping Hargrove on the shoulder.

It's not that Steve forgot Eddie.

It's just that he kind of assumed that Eddie would run off after Steve took his first swing at Hargrove. It'd been part of the reason that he pulled Hargrove's attention onto himself in the first place.

The expression on Hargrove's face says that he'd assumed the same thing, and he shoots a venomous look over at Eddie.

“Who's cleaning up messes now?” Eddie asks.

Hargrove snarls, drawing his own gun on Eddie, and -

Steve's too close for Eddie to get a clear shot at Hargrove, and by now he's starting to think that Eddie won't take the shot if it means he'll have to shoot through Steve, but he knows damn well Hargrove won't have the same reservations.

‘Robin,’ Steve says, even though she's already there, flooding his mind until she's all he can feel.

He can't lose himself when he does this if he's so much her that they can't separate each other out.

Steve lets go.

Electricity flares under his skin, crackling and humming, and when he grabs Hargrove's hand it immediately shorts out his gun. It flows out - and out and out and out and out, overloading the circuitry of Hargrove’s augment and threatening to burn it through completely if it keeps going, and he needs to -

He needs to -

‘Stop.’

Steve can't tell if it's Robin's voice or his, but it doesn't matter.

It's enough to get him to pull himself back. He lets go of Hargrove, breathing heavily as he shuts himself down. Steve's expecting to have to fight with himself, with the way the power in him wants an outlet, but it simmers back down with little more than a whisper. It's easier than it's ever been before, and he can feel Robin's pride whispering through him.

Steve looks up, just in time to see Eddie pointing his gun at Hargrove.

“Don't,” Steve says, stepping between Eddie and Hargrove.

It isn't the same as when he stood between them last time.

For one, Billy Hargrove isn't exactly conscious. For another - Steve doesn't care about Hargrove himself, not the way every part of his being screamed at him to protect Eddie. The only reason Steve's standing here at all is for Max.

“He'll tell Creel,” Eddie says. “You know if he's still alive, if he gets back to him, we're finished.”

“We're finished here either way,” Steve points out. “And Billy Hargrove isn't our decision to make. It belongs to someone else.”

Eddie looks at him searchingly, for a long moment. “If not you, then who?”

It's a fair demand.

As far as the general public knows, as far as Henry Creel knows - the rivalry between Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington is as intimate as it is intense. Steve would be lying if he pretended like he didn't know that there was a fan favorite theory that there was something more behind their fights.

But it's never been true. Steve's only ever hated Hargrove for what he did to Lucas and Max.

“Come with me,” Steve says. “And I'll introduce you to her.”

Eddie's eyes are dark, unreadable.

Except -

Except.

Except Steve can read into them, can read hesitancy, longing, hope.

He reaches out, snags Eddie's hand, links their fingers together.

“Come with me,” Steve says again. “And I'll protect you.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, soft and almost surprised. “Okay.”

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley #stobin #dustin henderson #pre steddie #cyberpunk au #but also kind of a gladiator au and a dystopian resistance au?#yeah i have no idea what this is #meant to be a one-shot but i might do a few more

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mikobeautifulheart · 3 months

Note

hi!! 💗

i was wondering if you could do a yuji drabble wherein he walks into our dorm and we're just BAWLING and he goes to comfort us thinking it's serious and is like "it's okay.. you're bf is here.." bc he SUCKS as comforting people (LMFAOO) and then after a while when we calm down we tell him (still crying..?) that one of our favorite MALE (heskeske) characters died in an anime and he just gets all dramatic and jealous and then gets gojo-sensei in on the situation 🤭🤭 like a whole AITA 💀

this request is a bit short and not so explanatory, but idc how you write it since it's yuji and i'll read ANYTHING abt yuji. 💋

ASK AND YOU. SHALL. RECIVEEEEE. (Recive it unedited.)

Here we go.

Yuji who sucks at comforting you only to getting jealous over 'guy'

Yuji knocks on your door, he wanted to drop off some of the books he borrowed from you only to get no response. It was weird because he knew you were in your dorm...

"NOOOOOO" You yelled making Yuji panic

"Y/N ARE YOU OKAY?" He said as he burst open your door only to see you balled up on your bed crying into your pillow while muttering random sentences hysterically.

"He was-HIC- so-HIC-"

"Calm down Y/N are you okay?!" Yuji asked scanning your body for any inguries

"NOO IM NOT" you shouted throwing the pillow in your arms at the T.V infront of you before going back to crying.

"Shhhh calm down what if Nobora hears you?" he said with an awkward look on his face.

You stopped everything and stared at him.

"You monster-" you said before the tears rolled down your cheeks again.

"Do you not care?" you said through tears with your lip quivering.

"Okay, okay, i'm sorry but I can't help you if I don't know wats wrong." he said rubbing circles in your back in an attempt to soothe you.

It was no use because you really started to cry now.

"What's going on? I heard someone crying" Gojo asked sticking his head in the door way of your dorm.

"First he-he, and now Yuji, MY OWN BOYFRIEND DOSEN'T CARE ABOUT ME"

"I DO!" he retaliates

Gojo scans the room laying his eyes on your T.V seeing the end credits of Demon slayer playing. His face went white.

"No- Don't tell me-"

You nodded your head up and down aggressively while sniffing into a tissue

"RENGOKU-SAN" Gojo yelled grabbing the T.V by the screen watching the credits go by.

Yuji finally realized what this was all about.

"Are you kidding me?" He turned to you stiffly.

"Y/N...He's not real, your crying over someone who's not real-"

You and Gojo both froze

"Yuji, clearly you don't understand the gravity of the situation" Gojo starts.

"You see when someone with a pure heart and soul dies, no matter if they are real OR NOT, its a hard loss. Its like if they killed the earth worm man in the first Human worm movie."

Yuji turns his attention back to you

"You didn't even cry this much when I 'died'" Yuji mumbled

"THATS COMPLETLY DIFFERENT!" You said offended that he would even consider bring that up right now.

"YOUR RIGHT, HES NOT REAL AND YOUR CRYING OVER HIS DEATH WHILE I 'DIED' AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN CRY THIS MUCH."

Mean while Gojo laid on your floor muttering the lyrics to the end credit song while crying.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: some of this totally isn't based off a personal experience. Anyways I hope this is close to what you wanted anon. And thanks for your request. reblogs are welcomed btw.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yuji fluff #yuji itadori #yuji × reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori x you #jjk x you #yuji itadori x reader #yuji imagines

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highvern · 6 months

Text

Teach Me IV

extra credit

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , phone sex, exchange of nudes, both are down horrendous, mutual masturbation, making out, dry humping, idiots in like, dokyeom has a praise kink and isn't ashamed, snippets of disgusting fluff

Length: ~5.1k

Note: ugh ... anyways! i know i mentioned potential angst in an ask but i'm weak

read more here

The best part of starting Fall Break on a Friday is having to do absolutely nothing for five blissful days. But because he is easily swindled by his friends, Dokyeom is ass over tits and the clock hasn’t even chimed 8PM. After the incredibly awkward week following your latest tryst, he’s thankful for the mind numbing freedom of alcohol, weed, and nothing but miles of mountain and woods.

Or he would be if wasn’t still upset you turned down his invitation to join him this weekend.

So he sneaks into his room and pulls up your Instagram. You're at the top of his results when he clicks into the search bar.

You posted a new photo this afternoon. A memory of a girls night out, sandwiched between two of your friends outside some bar, nothing but wide drunk smiles and closed eyes under the flash of the camera. Dokyeom already saw it. Already liked it.

He keeps scrolling, down down down till he reaches his favorite picture. A frozen memory of you outside some cafe, slumped in an iron wrought chair, sunglasses obscuring half of your face; your mouth is spread over a wild guffaw, teeth flashing and the corner of your lips arched high in amusement. Whatever had amused you pulled your entire body in, shoulders curved up as your chest caves, chin tipped back.

The soft pink sundress hugging you snugly is an added bonus.

And somewhere in his muddled mind, Dokyeom decides he needs to talk to you. Right. Now.

After the third ring, the call connects.

“Heyyy, pretty lady.”

“Oh my god, are you drunk?” You laugh, and Dokyeom can imagine the same expression from the photo flashing across your face.

God, she even sounds pretty. He thinks.

He whines through the goofy smile plucking the corners of his lips, “Nooooo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“Only a little?” You jest.

“Maybe a lot-tle.”

“I can tell.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you in like a week.”

If he wasn’t wasted then he might feel embarrassed, but Dokyeom finds the words slipping past him without a second thought as he rocks back and forth, caught in waves of emotion.

“How’s the cabin been so far?”

The sudden change in topic scratches unpleasantly but he lets it go.

“Would be more fun if you were here.” He confesses. “What are you up to?”

“Laying in bed, watching Love Island.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously?” You scoff.

“What?”

“You’re so lame, Kyeom.”

“I’m curious about what you do when you’re alone.” He tries to sound innocent. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, Ava left for the weekend.”

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

He’s fishing for the real reason you told him you couldn't come with him to the cabin. You’d been purposefully vague the few times Dokyeom probed since last Thursday, claiming any excuse under the sun: a friend coming to visit, getting ahead on assignments, pulling a few extra shifts at the library. Anything to avoid flat out rejection.

“You know, this and that. What about you guys? Any big plans?”

“Some of the guys mentioned a hike tomorrow. And Beer-lympics Sunday.”

“God, you’re such a frat bro.”

“I can do better.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. What are you wearing?” He tries again.

He hears you huff, “Pajamas.”

“Sexy.”

“I actually think this is your shirt.”

“Oh? Send me a pic.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you hard?”

“I can be.”

“I’ll send you a picture if you send me one too.”

“Fuck, okay.” He agrees, tapping open his camera app and trying out a few angles, working himself up in the process.

Dokyeom settles for cupping the bulge over his pants, outline of his cock pronounced as he lightly squeezes. He’s highly aware of your obsession with his hands, so he tries to flex his arm forcing the web of veins to rise as the muscles clench.

“I’m waiting.” You goad on the other end of the phone, knocking him out of his concentration.

The five photos he’s snapped all look about the same. Settling on the least blurry one, he quickly opens your messages and sends it before changing his mind.

A sharp inhale announces its arrival on your phone.

“Your turn.”

He can hear the rustle of clothes and blankets through the speaker, and a whispered curse following a dull thud. Dokyeom can’t help the chuckle that escapes as he pictures whatever caused it.

The photo you send back takes him a second to decipher. You're definitely wearing his shirt, the bottom hem bunched across your breasts, the swells of flesh peaking out near the top of the picture; perfectly omitting your face. Tracing down your bare stomach, your hips are wrapped in powdery blue cotton panties. And if that wasn’t enough, one hand is stuffed underneath, pulling the elastic taunt across the crease in your hip as it stretches to accommodate your fingers.

Holy shit.

“You like it?”

“You're evil.” Head rolling back, Dokyeom groans as he takes it all in. “You want me dead.”

You giggle at his tone.

“Fuck,” he mutters, continuing to study your figure. “You’re so hot.”

“Kyeomie,” you whine, obviously embarrassed under his attention.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Dirty girl.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

The back and forth of your relationship is the funnest part, in Dokyeom’s opinion. You like when he puts you in your place as much as he enjoys you putting him in his. It helps that even when he assumes the more dominant role, you still praise him as if he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It scratches that submissive part of his brain that always wants needs to be good. Especially for you.

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Phone sex is unfamiliar territory. He isn’t sure how much is too much and the awkward parting last week still stains his brain. But you just sent him a photo with your hands down your underwear so Dokyeom tries to go with the flow.

“Could make you cry on my cock.” He flushes when you remain silent for a second too long . “Sorry, that felt awkward.”

“No!” You object, voice crackling through the speaker at the sharp increase in volume. “It, ugh, that’s hot.”

“What? Crying from my dick?”

“You don’t think so?”

Dokyeom’s cock twitches, as if to signal its eager agreement.

“I think anything involving you near my penis is hot so I’m not really a good judge.”

“Well, just imagine it. Remember that time we fucked at Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house party?”

“Not appreciating you saying other dudes’ names while my dick is in my hand but yeah.”

You snicker at his reprimand. “Anyway. Remember how I wanted you to fuck my mouth?”

Dokyeom takes a sharp inhale as the memory rushes forward. You on your knees, eyes glossy and lips bruised, begging him to stretch your throat. The second the request reached his ears Dokyeom nearly came on your sweater covered chest, but he’d ignored your request, hauling your ass up onto the counter in favor of stuffing your cunt. You hadn’t complained.

“But you wouldn’t because you didn’t wanna mess up my makeup?”

“You looked pretty… didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Yeah but I wanted you to.”

Another squeeze of his cock as he slips his hand under his boxers, “Yeah?”

“You’re really hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” He groans, vocabulary limited by the husky timbre of your voice. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhhmm, doesn't feel as good as when you do it though.”

A pathetic thrust through his fist at the praise. “I know but I’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“How?”

“Might tie you up. Fuck you till your screamming.” Dokyeom doesn’t know who he’s become but you seem to like it.

“Oh?”

Your reply is all breath, the same way you sign when he gives you his fingers after a long study session. The beads of pre-cum on his tip increase as he works his cock, almost able to fill the way you’d coat his fingers if he was there to give them to you.

“You like that? Want me to use your tight little pussy? Fill it up?”

“Want you to come inside me again, Minnie. So hot.”

“I know, pretty girl. So desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” you squeak, “Are you close?”

“Send me another picture.”

Only a few seconds pass, filled with muffled groans on his end and the clack of your nails on yours. Dokyeom rushes to open the new attachment you’ve blessed him with, heart clenching when his stomach caves around a moan.

The photo is blurry from your haste but he doesn’t care. You're drenched. The crotch of your panties tinged darker as you pull them aside, flashing the way your entrance stretches around three of your fingers. Your clit just barely visible, puffy and swollen from neglect.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Minnie—” Your voice sounds far away, and he realizes you've put yourself on speaker so you can use both hands.

“Can you do something for me?” he grounds, squeezing the base of his cock to stop his impending end.

“Anything.”

Another deep breath before he lays himself bare, “Drive up here tomorrow.”

“What?” You ask, the springs of your mattress squeaking as you sit up, clearly confused by the switch in pace.

“I wanna see you.”

“I—”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Dokyeom scrambles.

Another pause before a timid, “How?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Pretty sure I’ll enjoy it just as much as you.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you don’t want to, it's fine but,” he sighs, “if you can I want you to come. And not just because of sex.”

“Then why?”

“Because I like—” He cuts himself off hastily. “Because I like spending time with you.”

As seconds tick by without response, Dokyeom is sure you're going to call his bluff. Or worse, laugh in his face. He’s sweating, heart beating irregularly as he waits for your reply.

“Really?” Shyness creeps into your voice.

Dokyeom nods before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asks, eyes wide and jaw slack. No way it's this easy.

“Really,” he can hear you smile. “But only because you said you’d give me whatever I want.”

“You’re gonna make me regret that aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You tease, enunciating each syllable as his heart beats in time. “But Kyeomie…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still wet.”

“Can’t have that.” He tsks.

“Please,”

“Be a good girl and play with your clit.” Dokyeom instructs, slipping right back in.

A hitch in your breath precludes a satisfied “hmmm”. He wishes he could taste both on his tongue.

“Touch yourself too.” You plea.

Dokyeom’s wound so tight a gust of wind would have his load all over his stomach. He tells you as much.

“Shiiit” You curse, catching up to him. “Close.”

“Yeah? Think you deserve it?”

If he was there, Dokyeom knows he’d see the frustrated kick of your legs and feel the daggers shooting from your eyes.

“You ignored me all last week, I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Dokyeom, please!”

“But since I get to see you tomorrow.” he tuts, covering up the catch of his breath as you plea again. “Let me hear it.”

The call devolves into choked curses and groans. He keeps the screen close to his face as he focuses back on the picture you sent, painting his fist with streaks of white as you beg him to cum, choke on how much you want to taste. Your stuttered “ah”s floating right into his ears as you twist and shake in your bed hours away.

When Dokyeom can feel himself returning to his body, he soaks in the lull of you catching your breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Send me the address.”

“Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy you’re coming…”

“Goodnight,” you chuckle at the double entendre.

“Night.”

Even with the satisfaction of an orgasm coursing through his veins, the fizzing bubbles of happiness in his chest have nothing to do with the cum cooling in his underwear.

The drive to the cabin is two hours and thirty seven nerve wrecking minutes. Dokyeom has been up since six, texting you the address, asking you to let him know when you left, keep him updated on any pit stops you needed to make. Not to rush up the mountain and drive safely.

The digital clock on your dash reads just past noon as you slowly creep up a narrow gravel road, praying another car doesn’t swoop around the bend. Of course a pack of frat boys would choose some creepy woods to set up camp for a long weekend.

You dial Dokyeom’s number just to be safe. Barely a full ring passes before he picks it up.

“Hey!”

“Hey… I think I’m pulling up to the right place?” You scan for any sign of a driveway on either side of the road without any luck.

“Oh shit, I’ll come outside. Jun got us lost yesterday when he drove up so it’s tricky.”

Taking a left as you finally spot the red mailbox with a beaver carved into the dark wooden post at the end of the lengthy driveway, a two story cabin comes into view between the trees. Dokyeom jogs from the porch to meet you at the edge of the yard. Rolling down your window as he makes his way over, you greet him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he smiles, bright enough to blind a village.

“Um, where should I park?”

“Just pull up behind anyone, it doesn't matter.”

“Alright.”

Dokyeom walks next to you as you pull in behind a white sedan. Once in park, you pop the trunk before slipping out the door. He already has your bag tossed over his shoulder, tangling your fingers with his as he pulls you towards the house.

“Some of the guys went on a hike earlier so I’ve been helping Seungkwan and Mingyu clean up.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.”

Before you can think too much on that statement, Seungkwan interrupts by tackling you in a hug.

“Oh thank god you’re here.”

“Hi to you too.” You say, carrying his weight as he goes boneless.

“Hi,” he responds with a squeeze, before turning to Dokyeom with a blunt, “Goodbye.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside the front door, beelining for the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch.

“Hey!”

Without slowing, Seungkwan fends him off. “She was my friend first!”

“Yeah well,” Dokyeom flounders like a washed up fish.

“You dazzle with words. Now go away.” Seungkwan sniffs.

Sending an apologetic smile over your shoulder, you allow Seungkwan to usher you along. You spot another person in the kitchen, face shadowed by the hood of his sweater. He doesn’t look up when you and Seungkwan shuffle pass.

“Ignore Mingyu, his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, anyway.” Seungkwan plops onto one of the chairs circled around the patio table. “Speaking of girlfriends—”

“Did you finally get one?”

“Being mean is bad for your health.” He deadpans. “As I was saying, did Dokyeom ask you to be his?”

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.”

Your ears ring at the nonchalance in Seungkwan’s tone.

“Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend?”

“Why else would you get up at the ass crack of dawn to come to this dump?”

“He said he wanted me to come.” You answer, turning your head to observe the lake beyond the thin tree line.

“After you told him no? Wow, didn’t realize he was that good in bed.”

Your hands itch to circle his neck and shake but Seungkwan is saved by the very man in question.

“Hate to interrupt but I thought you might want some coffee?”

You turn around, smiling as Dokyeom leans out of the sliding glass door, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“We aren’t done talking!” Seungkwan calls as you reach the door.

“I am!”

Mingyu apparently retreated to his room after you stepped outside, nowhere to be found in the kitchen or living room beyond the counter.

The isolation makes you nervous which is strange because it’s just Dokyeom. But his words last night over the phone, coupled with Seungkwan’s on the porch twist your guts uncomfortably.

It’s too late to bail. You can’t claim illness since Dokyeom will fawn over you like some mother hen. Besides, you don’t actually want to leave. You just can’t stand the nagging voice in the back of your head insisting this isn’t what friends do. Even if said friends are having sex.

“Wanna show me your room?”

“Sure!” Dokyeom is still cheery, eagerly leading you upstairs and down a maze of hallways.

The outside of the cabin, while daunting, failed to betray how big it actually is as you pass door after door on your journey.

The room Dokyeom is sharing with Soonyoung is cozy. Two full sized beds with little room for anything else and an en suite the size of a closet. But at least you won’t have to battle it out with anyone else for a bathroom during the next three days.

Dokyeom was lucky enough to claim the bed closests to the bay windows, framing a pleasant view of the backyard, dock, and sprawling lake. When you step closer, you can spot Seungkwan’s mop of hair as he leans on the edge of the railing that borders the porch; hand animated as the other holds his phone near his mouth.

Turning back to the bed, you spot your bag on the floor at the foot of it. The room is ten degrees hotter when you realize Dokyeom was lying right there as he talked you through an orgasm barely twelve hours ago. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet as you try to find something to say.

Dokyeom seems unperturbed, flopping onto the mattress, arms thrown wide in invitation. A shy grin twists your lips. Hair a mess, and cheeks flushed, Dokyeom looks cute. He’s always cute but navy crew neck and gray sweats transforms him into a cozy dream. The mattress dips under your knee as you crawl to lay next to him.

Settling your head over his heart, arms twining around one another, you feel your own give a peculiar squeeze. It’s truly no different than all the other times you’ve cuddled, albeit those were post-coitous; except it is. Dokyeom told you he wanted you here, that he likes spending time with you, and now he’s squeezing the life out of you as he snags one of your legs to wrap around his waist.

When sleep tickles your nose, pleasantly warm and inviting, you ignore how Dokyeom isn’t your boyfriend. What you have right now is perfect enough.

—

The sweet hum of Dokyeom’s voice lulls you awake, a simple melody you vaguely recognize from his playlist he insists on blasting during your hangouts. Gray light from outside casts the room sullenly dark. Storm clouds, swollen to a near black, eclipse the late afternoon sun. Dokyeom’s neck is the perfect place to escape the unavoidable sounds of the cabin filled with life, eyes firmly shut as you inhale the smell of laundry detergent and pine.

One of your hands managed to twist under his sweater in your sleep, fisting his thin T-shirt as you attempt to beckon sleep out of hiding and back towards you. A pathetic whine escapes when Dokyeom jostles you in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only silenced by his lips against your forehead and his stroking your elbow.

“Shhhh,” he coos. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Like five.”

Lifting back from his neck, you pout. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

A gentle peck to your lips in response leaves you speechless, a soft quirk to his lips as you gape. Collapsing back into his chest you’re left to bask in each other's presence as you take to silently drawing shapes on his stomach, smiling as he giggles from ticklishness. His thumb traces the curves of your hip, digging to the soft flesh of your waist.

A banging on the door makes you both jump out of your skin before Seungkwan’s voice cuts the air. “Come on love birds, dinners ready!”

“If we don’t get up, do you think he’ll go away?” Dokyeom whispers into your hair.

“No.”

On queue the door flies open, smacking against the wall and rebounding into Seungkwan’s face.

“I said it's time for dinner. Now get your asses up!”

“Go away, Boo!” You demand, chucking a pillow in his direction.

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Dokyeom asks, eyes sharp as he tries to kill the younger man with his eyes.

“When my elder does something respectable, I’ll consider it.” Seungkwan claps. “Now chop chop!”

The dinner Seungkwan so adamantly demanded your presence at is a huge pot of spaghetti and some loaves of garlic bread. Nothing overly complex but the bustling atmosphere downstairs is nice, comfortable.

Dokyeom introduces you to some of the fraternity members you haven’t met, as well as their dates. Squished between him and Seungkwan at the dining table, you barely engage in conversation. Not that you need to. They both fill the space with their own joking easily enough.

Instead, your mind focuses on the warmth of Dokyeom’s shoulder brushing yours, and how he rests his arm on the back of your chair once he finishes his plate.

When the mess is cleared away, a few people scurrying off to who knows where, Soonyoung insists on a game of Beerio Kart as dessert. Excited to have a new person to torment, he drags you to the couch before you can object. In a blink, you find yourself wedged between the armrest and Dokyeom as he explains the game.

“The rules are simple my friends! No drinking and driving and you have to finish your drunk before the race ends. If you fail to do so you’ll be publicly shamed.” Soonyoung claps his hands together, the maniacal glint in his eyes a little too intense for such a silly game.

“And for additional chaos,” Seungkwan adds. “I’ve changed it to blue shells only.”

“Now may the best driver win!”

“Alright, the first round is Jun, Marci, Sam, and me.”

“This is gonna be a bloodbath.” Someone calls from the other couch.

And it is. Jun uses height to hold Seungkwan’s drink out of the younger man’s reach, resulting in Seungkwan launching himself from the couch in a flying kick. They’re both so occupied with one another they don’t notice the race is long finished and neither of their characters moved past the starting line.

A chorus of boos rises as the race times out, designating them as 11th and 12th place.

“Alright, next is DK, Y/N, Wonwoo, and myself.”

“Can I forfeit?”

Dokyeom turns to you. “You wanna quit already?”

“Considering my opponents, yes.”

“New rule: no quitting allowed.” Soonyoung interjects.

“You can’t make that a rule!”

“I just did!”

You respond with a thumbs down, much more effective than the middle finger you want to throw his way.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Y/N.” Wonwoo taunts from across the room.

“I’m not scared!”

“That’s exactly what someone who is scared would say!” Soonyoung chimes in.

Dokyeom just shrugs his shoulders when you look at him for assistance. Figures. He’s part of the reason you don’t want to play. He and his roommate rile each other up too much under normal circumstances, let alone when things get competitive and alcohol is involved.

“Fine, let's play!”

Soonyoung divvies out another round of lukewarm beer cans you’re required to drink as Wonwoo picks the track. N64 Rainbow Road because apparently he’s an asshole. The way he reclines back in his seat confirms it.

To avoid the inevitable mess Dokyeom will make in his haste to chug before the race begins, you stand, shuffling closer to the safe zone at the edge of the coffee table. He tugs at the back of your shirt for a second, prompting you to shake your head.

Dokyeom pouts but stays silent.

“Alright lady and gentlemen! Start. Your. Engines!”

Cracking open your can the second the countdown begins on screen, you gag at the taste of cheap beer as everyone whoops around you. You manage half the can before you have to stop under the threat of it coming back up. Dokyeom and Soonyoung are still drinking, the later shuffling in place restlessly. Wonwoo hasn’t even opened his beer, focusing on getting as far ahead as he can.

Hopefully Seungkwan’s meddling takes care of him.

The race track is chaos as you press your character forward, occasionally blown off course by a blue shell moving to knock out whoever is in first. Half way through the course, you chance a glance at the other corners of the TV. Soonyoung and Dokyeom have finally started lap one, only for Soonyoung to fly over the edge at the first turn and wait to be rescued. Wonwoo is caught in the mess at the front of the pack, only able to maintain first for a fraction of a second before being sniped by a shell.

Once you round the third lap, you take your chance. Stopping in a corner of the track to down the rest of your drink, hoping everyone is too engrossed in the events on screen to see you start moving despite still swallowing a mouth full of beer.

This is when you see Wonwoo make his mistake. He pauses right before the finish line, cracking his can open and nearly choking on the large gulps in his haste. You're gaining quickly, barely a quarter of the last lap remains between your carts. When he finally finishes the can and picks up the controller, you unleash the blue shell you’d been saving. Rosalina goes flying as you sail by, Yoshi claiming fifth place.

“Suck it!” You scream, jumping up and down in victory; joined by Seungkwan who hollers with you as if he won too.

Wonwoo is shell-shocked, literally. He finishes seventh overall, pulling behind another computer character. Soonyoung is on the floor as he and Dokyeom fight for second to last place. The shame goes to Soonyoung as the race times out once again.

When you turn back to the couch you're met with another blinding smile as you drop into his lap.

“Looooooserrrr,” you taunt as you flick his nose gently.

“Yeah whatever.”

“It’s okay, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

He laughs, squeezing you into his chest. “God, you’re annoying.”

“It’s so lonely at the top.” You furrow your brow in mock sorrow.

Another race ensues, more chaos and screaming echoing through the living room. The heat of Dokyeom’s chest sinks through the back of your hoodie, strong plains of muscle shaking as he laughs with the group. When Seungkwan and Soonyoung face each other in a rematch you tempt Dokyeom upstairs, kissing behind his ear before leaning back and giving him the “look.”

The “I-want-your-dick-in-my-mouth” look.

Of which he very is familiar.

Dokyeom lurches forward, eager to appease, forgetting you're still in his lap until your weight knocks him back down. Shaking your head you stand and pull him up behind you, moving towards the stairs uninterrupted as Seungkwan and Soonyoung threaten each other's life and limb behind you.

Tacky wood shiplap digs into your spine uncomfortable as Dokyeom crowds you against the wall. His lips ghost along your jaw, hands on either side of your head to prevent him from crushing you. You don’t have the same concern, pulling him closer with the fabric of his sweater. The door to his room is a few feet to your left but the idea of separating for even a second to make it inside is pure agony.

“What does the winner want for her prize?” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Depends.” You sigh, grinding against the bulge of his thigh.

“On?”

“If my prize is separate from what I get for driving up here.”

Dokyeom nips your chin, dodging your attempt to connect your mouths.

“Depends on what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

He stays silent, teeth bruising the sliver of shoulder peeking out under your collar.

“I want you to fuck me,” cut of with a hiss at his vigor, “and I want to film it.”

Backing out of your neck, Dokyeom blinks at you, mouth wide.

Peeking at him through your eyelashes, you wait for Dokyeom’s brain to restart. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Not a rejection or an agreement. Just surprise.

A heaviness curls in your gut. You thought he’d like the idea, especially from his reaction to the pictures you sent last night. And the videos he’s sent over the months you’ve been hooking up. Videos of him jacking off, cumming on his own stomach, your name on his lips. But maybe you assumed too much.

“Ifyoudon’twanttowedon—”

But a scream interrupts your rant as he lifts you by your thighs, ankles locking around the top of his butt and arms tangling around his neck like a koala. You hold on for dear life as he carries you down the hallway.

Palming your ass harshly with one hand, the other scrambles to open the door as he licks up your neck. The door rattles on its hinges as he kicks it shut but the blood rushing through your ears muffles it.

“Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes.” He’s whining into your ear, hips rutting into your core as he lands unceremoniously on the bed, crushing you underneath him.

You’re shocked for a second, woefully unprepared for his enthusiasm. But another harsh rush against you, coupled with his hands pawing up your shirt to palm your chest makes you bold.

Two things you know to be true about Dokyeom:

First, he has a ragging praise kink. If you tell him he’s a good boy, he can come almost untouched.

Second, he loves the sight of his cum streaking across your body.

He was right to say he’ll enjoy this as much as you will.

“Yeah? Wanna come on my face?”

Another pathetic whine against your neck as he keeps curling his clothed cock against you. All of his weight settles between your hips as drives you to madness.

“Then go lock the door.”

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

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nqmonarch · 3 months

Note

happy valentine's day!! <3 honestly anything for aventurine is fine, probably like what are your thoughts about him?

Happy very belated Valentine's day! I hope yours was wonderful anon!

Anyway I think my thoughts about Aventurine are uh... definitely out there. Normally when I write stuff I like to read the character's little lore things and read over character's quotes to make sure I'm depicting them well but Aventurine doesn't have much of that and my overall thoughts on him are straight up just my thoughts which are...

Aw he's baby :). I can't take him seriously x.x like I feel like under that haha let's gamble it all away front he is both terrifying but also so weak and vulnerable. Like I want to hold him in my arms and tell him he has meaning but at the same time I think he may be some kind of masochist (hot), I don't know he just gives off those vibes he's like "use me, as long as it's fun." Like okay man.

Aventurine is both the most and least predictable person you've ever met. His existence itself is like a gamble you can never tell what will come next, will it be the cocky and confident Aventurine edging you on to take his carefully laid out bait? Or would it be the pathetic Aventurine hiding beneath the surface of all his actions who's begging to be comforted?

He acts so nonchalant for someone that cares so much. It was the only reason you still tolerated him. You also cared about Aventurine but he didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to know about the lengths you went to in order to keep him out of trouble.

The two of you getting together was a miracle in itself. Because Aventurine would've never asked you out seriously. He would've teased you about it, and about your lack of a partner. Maybe he would've made a bet or two to make you hang out with him on a date. But he was too scared of commitment to give it a label.

Of course he would be scared of commitment when everything he's ever had, he's lost and everything he's gained isn't his own. How else would he be able to gamble everything he knows to be true so easily? It pissed you off to an extent, and made you hesitant to commit. What if that fucker used you in a bet? He probably wouldn't but everything with Aventurine was a gamble.

So one day after the idiot had almost gotten himself in trouble, only to be saved by his luck, you had angrily grabbed him by his neck and pressed him against the wall.

You were fine with him betting nearly everything from millions of credits to rare items. He wasn't allowed to bet his life though. Not when you were around. Because his life was yours. You wouldn't let Aventurine die.

Through an unorganized and incoherent train of thoughts you tried to express yourself to Aventurine and at first he teased you,

"You really care about me that much? You're a better friend than I thought you would be, how useful!"

But as those thoughts straightened out more into a heartfelt confession he began to quiet and freeze. Maybe if this was a game to him he'd be able to maintain his light hearted facade but you hoped you meant more. You'd known him for a while after all, and better than anyone else.

Aventurine, struggling to articulate his thoughts, only nodded at the end. Then you kissed him. His lips were hesitant against yours but his hands gripped onto your arms tightly, refusing to let go. He didn't want to seem desperate, he didn't want to seem like he cared, but the silent plea of his arms wrapping around you spoke words.

For the most part he acted as a complement to your personality. When you didn't go after him, he went after you always in an attempt to sweep you off your feet unexpectedly. When you went after him, he'd lay still and let himself be attacked unable to defend himself as a blush rose up his neck to his ears and cheeks.

A serious relationship was something new for the both of you. And given how Aventurine acted, and how you struggled to explain your emotions, the two of you ran into communication issues often.

But despite it all the two of you made it through. After all how can one better express love than saving the other's life?

Aventurine had foolishly bet his life again, this time for some inconsequential thing. The two of you had been talking to a new "friend" of his, that ended up having ties with your past. As such they'd managed to come across some minor family heirloom of yours and for some reason trying to barter with it for information.

You could've cared less but Aventurine for some reason took the bait. Inviting this "friend" to a gamble, in which if he won then he would receive Aventurine's life and assets something you thought to be overly dramatic. If Aventurine won he'd receive the heirloom and the information you'd actually come here for, the information that would allow you to blackmail the government of this planet into giving into the IPC.

Aventurine managed to lose, but it's not like it mattered. Since your bullet was through his "friend's" head in the next second. As he died you registered a small clicking sound and shielded yourself and Aventurine as the body exploded. Really? What a pain.

"The IPC will work even harder to get you killed if they know about this," You couldn't help but mutter, a frown on your face, "Is there anyone left we can contact for this?" Aventurine still had more contacts than you unsurprisingly.

Failure was always met with death for people like him.

"You want to talk to more people than me?" He spoke with mock offense and before you could retort he held out some papers, "He was useful until the very end." He joked and you frowned.

Your voice was beginning to raise in anger, "Did you have to go ahead and bet your life?"

He took a step closer, the documents disappearing, "You made the opening for me. Come on, don't be mad," His voice was coy as he grabbed your hand in his.

You didn't like it when he bet his life. If he was going to take such poor care of himself then his life would be safer in your hands. Aventurine had already begun to lead the way to your next destination and your eyes rested on him, analyzing every detail. They continued without pause until they found his neck, you wanted to cover that barcode on his neck up with bites.

When you got back to the hotel room you were staying at you found the heirloom resting on the bed, and you let out an aggravated sigh. "That bastard... I told him I didn't care about it." And you didn't but you opened up the music box nonetheless and a tune began to play out.

A few moments after it began you felt arms wrap around you and hot breath on your neck. You closed your eyes and leaned into Aventurine, "Your life will always be the most important thing to me," You spoke softly.

He stiffened and then relaxed, "That's a terrible decision."

He was annoying. Hard to communicate with. He was also always a gamble, you could never predict him. But he kept life interesting, he was interesting, and amusing. You didn't want such an adorable person to die.

Maybe one day the two of you would be able to have a completely serious conversation but that'd be a while, and for now you were content with the man that loves you who you love back.

Aventurine trying to avoid affection like an insect avoiding rain drops but you're a motherfucking tsunami.

I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THIS IT WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG

I started it like a week after I got it and then had writers block on what to do but anyway yeah this is my take on ya boy Aventurine. He's kinda pathetic but I'm into that.

#reader insert #hsr #hsr x reader #gn reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine is scared of love #honestly same #mmm communication issues my favorite

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