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non-stop-imagines · 9 months

Text

Repeat That

From this request!💖

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Word Count: ~8.1k words w/ smau

Warning: Smut (slight fingering, thigh riding, p in v), a little oral fixation, Soft!Dom and protective Max, reader going into a subspace, Max punches a guy, my American description of driving, mean comments, Twitter Environment, mention of food it's also pretty cute 😘 Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: I knew I had big plans for this fic but I didn't expect this big. I absolutely loved this request when I got it and I wanted to put as much care into writing it as they did coming up with the idea. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, because as always I enjoyed writing it! Love you all!💖💛💖💛💖

Masterlist

maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris and 301,872 others

maxverstappen1 Mine ❤️

babygurlyn tagged

View 3,910 comments

rbrhypetrain This was not on my 2023 bingo card, but I can use the free space ✍🏼

babygurlyn I don't even have this many good pictures of me. How???

>maxverstappen1 When your girlfriend is as beautiful as you are, you get a lot of opportunities to get good pictures

landonorris I would like everyone to know that Max posted this 3 months into dating Yn. He means business

babygurlyn

Liked by redbullracing and 90,274 others

babygurlyn Because he posted me and I think he's pretty too 😍🥰😘 No one tell about me posting the last pic 🤫

view 429 comments

redbullracing We think he's pretty too ❤️😗

>seb4ev I think Max better watch out for the Red Bull admin, I just can't figure out who they're trying to flirt with most of the time

maxverstappen1 😐 > babygurlyn Who told?!

mercgirly Okay but I think Yn is the only person that has pictures of Max that make him look really pretty and like good for her

hateruser I doubt Max actually likes how Yn acts It's just so immature

Max has grown fond of non-race weeks since he started dating you. Your mindset was that "Weekends are for having fun, not working", something that you would pout about early in your relationship whenever he would go train or agree to meetings on non-race weekends. But now, with two weekends off, he's using one to stay at home, currently driving on his sim but the true purpose of his presence was to be at your beck and call. To be there for you to talk endlessly too, to help you with stuff, to be filmed for your YouTube channel, anything. And he was happy to be there to do it.

"Maxie, are we ordering food for lunch or were we planning to go out for it?" You pop your head into the room, doe-like eyes darting between him and the screen facing him.

"We have plenty of food here, my love." He continues the session he was in but pauses it when he doesn't hear your socked feet shuffling away and the faintest whimper come from the open door. "Yeessss…?" He turns his body to get up from his seat and walk over to the door leaning against the frame. You move your body from leaning over to only have your head in view to standing straight up, shyly peering up at him, to which he pushes some locs from in front of your shoulders then tips your head up with a finger. "What is it"

"It's just, there's a cafe that's doing this special latte art to celebrate the 100 year anniversary of the creation of Disney, 'cause they have this food printer or something that is able to do it and I was hoping we'd be able to go there today." Your rambling was accompanied by wild hand movements that supplemented your words, a trait you've subconsciously picked up from your boyfriend, and as you neared the end your voice tapered off, unsure of what the response would be from Max.

"Well why didn't you just say so, love?" His voice was a soft, exasperated coo as he reaches to fix your hair again and then uses a hand on either side of your face to make you look at him. All you do is shrug in response, knowing of the short lecture you were about to get. "Baby, first of all, I'm not mad. But didn't we talk about you speaking up more about what you want?"

"I just didn't think it was that important." You tug at the hem of his shirt. Even with his hands angling your face up towards his, you avoided eye contact.

"We talked about this…" He bends down to catch your lips in a quick kiss, then opens his eyes a little wider waiting for you to comment.

"Everything I say has at least some importance…" You receive another kiss and then feel Max's hands move to your waist, gingerly pulling you closer.

"Good. Now, try again." He gives you a little grin to encourage you.

"Hey, I was thinking we could go to this cafe that is doing Disney themed latte art. It looks pretty cool." Your voice fluctuated as you tried to sound more confident in your request, trying to act nonchalant in the process.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let me know when you want to leave.” He gives you one last kiss on the forehead and starts to head back to his game.

“Okay! I’ll let you know. Thank you, baby!” Your mood turns on a dime as you skip off to some other room, a shift which Max just shakes his head at as he restarts the session. About 10 minutes later, Max can hear you mumbling to yourself, sounding like you were straining to grab something, so he stands from his seat again and starts to search for your location, eventually finding you standing on a side table trying to reach your mini tripod that was on the highest shelf of your bookshelf in your office. “Dang it. Get over here. Woah.” You wobble on the table that you forgot was already uneven prompting Max to rush over and steady you.

“Get off the table, please. What do you need? Your tripod?” He stretches up to reach where it is, which was slightly pushed back from the edge of the shelf.

“Yes, please.” You beam up at him as he hands it to you, and once he does your focus goes to the small camera stand, flexing the legs to make it easier to hold, but Max interrupts your focus by lifting your chin to give you a small lingering kiss, forcing you to look into his eyes once he backs up.

“Please never do that again. Just ask if you need help with stuff like that, okay.” His face was softly stern, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis as he spoke. He keeps the same face as he waits for your answer.

“I know, I know. I will, but you know I just start doing something and completely forget about everything else and it makes me forget to ask for help when I need it…" Your words taper off as you go to place the tripod on your desk, but you turn around to Max crossing his arm, eyebrows scrunched in mock concern.

"Yes, I know that. But you need to try and remember to ask for help, I'm always here for you." Max's gaze followed you as you approached him, first taking his crossed arms to turn him toward the door and then moving behind him to start pushing him out. Both you and him knew that if he were really trying you wouldn't be able to move him an inch, but here you were guiding him through the exit of your office.

"Okay, thank you. Now go." You continue to push but feel resistance all of a sudden. You peek your head around to look at Max who was smiling at you. "What?"

"Do I get to be in your vlog?" You roll your eyes at your boyfriend's question, then get back behind him to push again, moving once more.

"You know you're always in my vlogs. Now go. I'll be there in a sec." You finally succeed in getting him across the threshold of your office then turn back around and head back to your desk, starting to fiddle with your small vlogging camera.

“Okay.” Max does as he is told and heads back to his gaming room, sitting down in his seat and putting his headphones, and, after stopping to answer a text or two, starts playing again. After another 20 minutes he hears the patter of your feet, but continues his game waiting to hear your voice.

“Can I come in?” You ask your question while slowly shuffling in. What you don't see fully is how bright and wide Max’s smile is as he feels your presence grow closer.

“Of course you can, baby girl.” He finally ends the session and turns off the game, knowing he probably won’t be able to come back to it for the rest of the day. He removes his feet from the pedals in front of him to place his feet flat on the floor, turning his head to look straight into the small camera you pointed at him.

“Say hi to the people, Max. They love you, you’re their favorite.” You giggle, primarily at the way he waves and then flashes a semi-awkward thumbs up.

“Hello! Now you, what’s up?” He shifts his focus to you, face attentive as he pulls you into his lap by a large hand on your waist.

“So you know how I asked you about going to that cafe today?” You had the camera pointed at you two, viewfinder flipped up so you could make sure you guys were in frame, and once you did you turned to look at Max who only had his attention on you, watching his nod and loving the vibration when he hums his affirmation, pushing a loc out of your face. “Well I was thinking that we could couple the experience with something fun.” You wiggle your eyebrows, first at Max and then briefly at the camera before turning back to him.

“I don’t like that look. What did you have in mind?” Max keeps his eyes trained on you, watching and internally smiling at the charisma you were giving the camera, not like it was much different than your normal personality, if anything a bit toned down.

"Well I thought that maybe you could teach me how to drive? Or at least start teaching me how to drive. And then we could go to the cafe since we were out." You use a free hand to comb back his hair with your fingers, and something the camera is able to see is the slight head tilt upward he does to move closer to your hand and the side profile of the soft look he was giving you.

"Oh yeah, I always forget you don't have your license. I'm so used to just driving you around." He thinks for a moment, still only looking at you, watching as your enlarged brown eyes anticipated his answer. "Fine, I guess we could do that." He smiles back at the radiant smile you gave him and the quick kiss on the cheek you give before you remove yourself from his lap.

"Yay! Thank you baby!" You start to skip toward the door but you didn't realize that Max had snuck his hand around your wrist to pull you back to him.

"How were you going to leave me without a proper kiss?" He had his eyebrows raised in mock surprise, to which you roll your eyes and stalk back over to him, leaning down a bit to kiss him. It was a couple of deeper kisses, making sure your lips slated together rather than just a small peck. What you also noticed was that Max had angled the camera toward you two, making sure footage was captured of the kissing.

"You're so needy, ugh." You fake your complaint as you stop your recording and leave the room, not seeing the soft, loving look he was giving you as you walked out the door.

________

"Okay, here we are in the car on the most empty floor of the parking garage that we could find. And here's Professor Verstappen, ready to teach me all there is to learn about the rules of the road. Take it away, Max!" You finish your spritely intro to this portion of your vlog by highlighting Max's presence with your hands, waving them towards him and then finally looking toward him for instruction. He was too busy watching you, though, so it took him a beat to realize that it was his time to talk.

"Oh, okay. Uh, hello everyone. First, have you ever been behind the wheel before?" His arm was already resting behind him on top of his seat, so he was already in reach of a loc that you kept of your ponytail, deciding to mess with it while you gave your answer, giving his hands something to do.

"Well, I've never paid attention to all the stuff. Really just messed with the wheel." You twist the wheel, then look back at Max, the camera now just a spectator of the interaction between you two.

"Okay." He grins at you, eyes wandering over your innocent face before continuing. "Uh, let's start with the pedals. Touch them with your feet." He stretches his body to watch as you do. "So the wide one on the left is the brake and the narrow, long one is the gas." You nod, still playing with the pedals. "Mirrors, check them every time you get in." He reaches up and taps the long mirror in front of you guys. "This is the rearview mirror, make sure you can see out the rear windshield when you adjust it, okay?" You start adjusting as he continues explaining. "The side mirrors, uh, you want to make sure that you're able to see your blind spot and beside you. The controls to adjust it side mirrors are in the door. You just make sure you have the correct mirror selected and then use the up, down, left and right buttons to adjust the mirror.” You look at the side mirror but decide not to do anything about them. "Um, the gearshift. You have to press on the brake to be able to be able to press the button on the gear shift to move it." He was going to continue his informational dialogue, but he could hear you press down on the brake pedal. "Don't do it now! Hold on." He subtly motions for you to stop, his hand in your vicinity as he chuckles, his vibe a mixture of nervousness and adoration.

"Hehe, sorry." You had a toothy smile on your face, an indication to Max that you are already starting to get nervous and his words would need to be more gentle with his teaching.

"It's okay." He leans over to kiss your forehead before continuing. "Anyway, the letters on the gearshift-"

"Yes, the PRNDL…." You said the joke with such confidence, but you and Max stifled your laughter, staring at each other, you with that bright toothy smile and Max with a strained grin and facial expression of fake disappointment.

"Really?" The laughter he held was laced in his words. "You're adorable, you know that?" You nod with your bright smile, giving Max slight trouble when he starts leaning in to get a quick kiss, but you quickly get the hint, letting him kiss you as you nodded your head with less vigor.

"Hehe, yeah, I know." Your faces were still close, allowing you two to have a small moment of intimacy before finally getting back to the task at hand.

"Um, anyway. Yes the gearshi- the PRNDL, since I know you'll repeat it until I say it, those letters all stand for something. Do you know what they are?" He cocks his head slightly, making it more obvious that he is just making sure you know.

"Park, reverse, uh-neutral, drive, and I always forget what L stands for." You recite the meanings as you go down the panel, then look back up expectantly at Max waiting for confirmation that you were right.

"Correct. Good job, baby. And we're not going to worry about L until we have to." He pushes that lone loc again and admires your face as he thinks. "Okay, try just going forward. To that column." He points to a concrete column about 50 feet away, and he keeps his attention ahead of you guys as you put the car in drive.

"Okay, check mirrors, foot is on the brake right now, car in drive…" you mumble a checklist to yourself, double check everything you just listed, and then finally lift your foot off the brake and slowly, lightly press on the gas, allowing the car to finally move. Initially all was fine, it wasn't until 3 seconds later when Max felt the car gently swerving that he looked at you, seeing you twist the wheel back and forth as you tried to go forward.

"Woah, woah! Stop!" You immediately follow directions, slamming on the brake making both of your bodies jolt forward. You start to laugh nervously as you slowly turn to look at Max, who was looking at you wide eyed. "What the fuck was that, baby? You're not trying to warm the tires."

"I-that's what people do in the movies…and i- I don't know." An apologetic, nervous smile stays plastered on your face, a face Max knew well because it meant that you were really unsure of the situation and liable to shut down at any minute.

"That's just bad acting. But it's okay, you're okay. Just think of it as keeping the car steady instead of trying to guide it." He uses his hand to imitate a swerving driving path and then turns back to you. "You want to try again?" His gaze was intensely trained on you as he tried to gauge your anxiety before you answered.

"Mhm." The smile was now gone, your face was flat and eyebrows furrowed as you checked your mirrors again and then lifted your foot from the brake to gently press the gas again. This time there was a lot more focus on your part as you gently twisted the steering wheel as necessary to keep it in line until you got to the column.

“Okay, now put it in park.” With your foot firmly on the brake, you hold down the button on the gearshift and push it to put the car in park. Once it was done and you were sure the car was stationary. You lift your foot and jerk your head toward Max to shine a, now more confident, smile his way, that he reciprocates in his own Max way with a grin and wide eyes. “You did it!”

“I did it!” You reach your arms out and wrap them around Max’s neck, and the close proximity brought your cheek in range to receive a peck from him.

“How did you feel?” You still had your arms around his neck, but he was able to lean back enough to get your entire face in view.

“Better, but I know it's not that easy on the road so that's a little scary.” Max starts to open his mouth to calm your worries, but your next words change his planned soothing into reprimand as you continue. “And I know it’s stupid to be scared. Many people drive everyday without being scared, but I tin- '' Your words fade when your cheeks are grasped by Max’s long fingers and squished gently.

“Shh.” Max’s attempted cooing comes off more like a frantic mitigation of your downward spiral, like trying to stop a child from crying right as they’re on the cusp of bursting out in tears. He gives a small kiss to your manually puckered lips then lets go, gently lifting the locs you had back in a ponytail. “You’re not stupid. People get scared about driving, it’s normal. You just need to practice to gain confidence, that’s all. Okay?” Your lips were still pouted, but you looked at him through your eyelashes, eyes asking for a little more reassurance, which he gives by seizing your lips in another kiss.

"Okay." You press your lips together in a mild grin then settle back into your seat, tracing the steering wheel with your fingers.

"Want to try reversing and a little parking? And then I'll drive us to that cafe?" He laces his fingers with yours that had settled on the gearshift, running a thumb over the back of your hand.

"Yeah, let's do it! Really earn that latte." In your usual fashion, your demeanor changed on a dime to hyper enthusiasm, unlacing your hand from Max's and placing both hands firmly on the wheel.

"You earned that before we even got in the car." He stretches his arm across the back of your seat, placing a sentimental gaze on you. You turn toward him in a way that required you to lean your head back slightly, and flash that big beautiful smile he adores. "I love you." His head jerks toward you a little, waiting for your answer.

"I love you, too." You pucker after your words, receiving the kiss Max was craving to give you. It was simple, but it was lingering. He has always loved your lips, so his heart squeezed when they turned up into a grin for him as you got amped to continue driving. "Alright, let's get on with it!"

"Alright." He takes another second to watch you, his cute, bouncy, determined and all around amazing girlfriend, before continuing his instruction.

___________

"The fact that the latte was amazing AND had The Little Mermaid art on top makes my driving struggles worthwhile." You skip out of the cafe door that Max held open for you, thanking the employees as you leave, camera trained on your face.

"It was good?" Max also waved a polite, silent goodbye as you two walked back to the car that was parked in a spot along a surprisingly empty road.

"Yeah! It was a sea salt caramel latte and it didn't have too much coffee flavor but I can still feel a buzz." You grab onto his hand and swing it wildly, turning under his arm like you were tangoing as you waited for the signal to walk across the street. For it to be a Saturday, the roadway that had picturesque little shops along the side was almost clear, sans a few straggling teens and some cars driving by.

"That's the last thing you need. I don't know why you insist on getting drinks with coffee anyway if you don't like the taste of coffee." The signal finally changed and you and Max crossed the street, vlog camera still recording, but just getting a lower angle shot of you two walking.

"You can have so much fun with the flavors of coffee drinks. And you know energy drinks are hit and miss with me." You lift your camera once across, you gauging the short distance to the car before talking, speaking through your teeth in a mock wince. "Sorry, Red Bull." You stop the recording and turn off your camera now just wanting to take in your surroundings hand in hand with your boyfriend.

"Yeah, I know." He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, which he pulls out to see he received a text from Lando.

Lando

Do you and Yn want to come hang tonight?

Me and some friends decided to just go out tonight

Don't know who all is coming yet tho

What do you say?

And tell Yn I said hello and that I love her more than you do 😁

"Why does he text like this? All these messages…" Max removes his hand from yours but sticks out his elbow so you're able to wrap your arm around his. You guys stop walking for a moment, since you were basically at the car, while Max goes to answer whatever question is hidden in his myriad texts. "Would you want to go out tonight with Lando?" He looked down to his side for your response, which was almost immediate excitement.

"Yes! Let's go out! I love hanging out with Lando." You sway with Max's arm in tow as he types out his response.

Max

Okay, we'll come.

"Okay, we'll go. Now please, I need this arm." His plea held fake exhaustion, causing you to laugh a laugh that was music to his ears. As you guys finally approached the car, you could hear people down the sidewalk calling to get your guys' attention.

"Oh my God, it is him!" Two young men both looking around 25 approached you two with excitement in their demeanor. "Max, we love you, mate. That Red Bull has been crazy dominant!"

Max could feel you trying to move behind him a bit, but for you this was just because you knew these guys were here to see Max so you didn't want to get in the way. For Max the rudeness due to their lack of acknowledgement to your presence was strike 1. "Thanks, you guys. But listen, we have to get going-"

"Hey do you think we could get a picture with you real quick?" When the phone started to be handed to you, Max was ready to snatch your hand up and leave immediately, but seeing you reach for it, okay and eager to take a picture of the boyfriend she is immensely proud of and his fans, he simmered down, enough to take a decent picture with the two men before they excitedly walked off after thanking you.

"They were kinda nice." Max walks you to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for you, grunting in faux agreement. "I don't think they knew who I was, though." Your words came out as a giggle because you were truly amused with the situation, but Max just closed the door, gently and hiding his stone face as he does.

"If they did they would have acted like fucking saints." Max mumbles to himself, walking around to the driver's side. He pauses, taking a deep breath and actively working to relax his face, knowing the scowl would affect your mood too, and realizing a new annoyance that has emerged for him. There are people out there who think that you are something less than the best thing to have come into his life.

babygurlyn

Liked by lilymhe and 96,920 others

babygurlyn NEW VLOG ALERT!!! Please enjoy my favorite screenshots I got while editing 😁😁😁

View 2,297 comments

landonorris you don't want to know what happens when Yn has vodka

>mercfantasies What happens when she has vodka????

>babygurlyn No one will know what happens when Yn has vodak 😐😐😐

> landonorris The walls have ears 👀

maxandynfan Max in your new vid 😭😭 you could've warmed us about how sweet he was

> babygurlyn I told you guys Max is nothing but a big softy 🥰 (And don't listen to him when he says he's not)

__________

You made sure you had your items, small purse on your arm, large pink chunky-knit sweater over your arm, a pink that matched the mid rise Nike Court Royales that you wore with a black tennis skirt and white blouse, phone locked in both hands as you bent under the rope in the garage separating visitors from the rest of the garage. You knew that it would have been more comfortable and easier watching from the Paddock Club area or the motorhome, but Max insisted you stay in the garage, and you didn't mind because you liked being this close to the action, and it was easier to get to parc ferme and the podium by just by exiting the garage. So you found yourself walking out of the garage, hugging people and cheering along as everyone celebrates another win for Max. No matter what anyone says, for you every win is so exciting because you know the work he has put in to achieve this. The top three cars park and you are able to reach and hug Max, making a face at him to joke about how he stunk from his sweat and then shooing him off for the post-race interview, and as you did you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see a young guy and girl. The girl had her phone in her hand and the guy a small microphone, the ones that can clip onto the shirt.

"Hi, I'm Jackson and this is my girlfriend, Catherine. Do you have time to do a quick interview with us?" The guy, Jackson, asked you close to your ear, to which you nod in agreement. You and Max have been dating just over a year, and you can count the number of people that have approached you to speak to you on one hand, maybe two if you added exceptions.

"I would love to do an interview, Jackson." You were able to answer without having to yell in his ear, since the cheering has died down as third place is interviewed.

"Please, you can call me Jack." He points to Catherine and gives her a thumbs up, which you assumed was to signal for her to start recording, because after counting down to 1, Jackson begins to introduce himself and you, to which you give a spritely wave to the phone that Catherine was smiling behind. "So, Yn, you have been with Max for almost 2 seasons, seen so many of his wins, have you gotten used to them now?" Jack's eyes shifted between you and the phone as he spoke, and once he was done he brought the small microphone closer to you.

"Oh, no. Every race is different. Even if it is the same race during a new season, the conditions are different, and I see the work Max puts in first hand, so I am always very proud of him with every win." You smile toward Jack and then the camera.

"You know, with what can be seen as a severe lack of action due to Red Bull dominance, people have turned their focus to other news in the F1 sphere, one of which being the relationship between you and Max." Though more comment than question, the small mic is gestured toward you for input.

"Oh, well, I'm flattered. I hope it's mostly good things." You could feel a shift in the tone of the interview, which was confirmed by the confused look being given by Catherine from behind the recording phone.

"There has been good stuff, yes, but the most discussion and discourse has been over how different you two seem to be from each other." Again the microphone is thrusted toward you.

"I-well, yeah, we're different from each other, but I think that helps us. We get to learn from each other." Your smile has officially started to fade as Jack continues to speak.

"Not just the differences between you and Max, but the difference between you and his previous girlfriends." Your eyebrows were officially furrowed, confused by the implication.

"I don't think I know what you mean." The further you got into this interview the more the outside world began to be shut out, so of course you didn't feel Max's eyes trained on you, post interview and supposed to be headed to the cool down room, but instead he watched.

"People just don't understand how he could go from dating high class models and daughters of previous racers to you. You're so different from his previous girlfriends, what do you think it is about you that drew him in?" Your head tilted, really trying to figure out the point of the question, face softening into disappointment as you slowly start to realize the micro aggression in the comment.

"Well, I-i don't-um-" You jump at the feeling of an arm wrapping around your waist, giving Max a sad smile when you look in the direction of the arm.

"What's going on here?" Max uses his grip on your waist to pull you behind him, and switches to holding your hand.

"Max! Great race-" Jack goes to clap Max on the shoulder, be Max leans away, anger still consuming him.

"No, don't change the subject. What is going on? Why does it look like my girlfriend is about to cry?" Max relaxed the hand that held yours so you could mess with his hand, but still had a scowl on his face.

"I was just seeing what she had to say about-um-ha. You know what it's-" Jackson was starting to bail, motioning to Catherine to stop recording, which she does but she stays put, face enraged as she watches her boyfriend make a stupid decision.

"No, don't leave. Whatever you were talking to my girlfriend about you can talk to me about cause you were obviously upsetting her." You still held on to Max's hand, but the insinuation made during your conversation was already clicking, and you didn't like what you heard.

"Fine! She just acts so childish and ditzy! No one understands why you're with her!" With that final declaration, everyone within earshot and paying attention to conversation was shocked. You, though wide eyed, were hurt, a small seed of doubt now attempting to worm its way into the mental security you had in your relationship with Max, but feeling him suddenly jerk his right hand away room your grip provided enough of a momentary distraction.

"Fuck you." The two simple words were followed by a punch that dropped the guy. You hear gasps coming from multiple directions, making you guys realize you weren't the only one experiencing this, but this was the last thing on Max's mind. He looks up at Catherine. "Is he your boyfriend?" He was shaking out his hand, stretching his fingers and gingerly touching what will inevitably be bruised knuckles.

"Not anymore. I knew he was an asshole sometimes, but this is a new low." She shakes her head down at Jack, who was now being tended to by a nearby marshall who saw, and luckily heard, everything, and was nodding in agreement.

"Good for you." Max finally looks away from his hand to turn his attention to you. "Come on, let's head back." Max then reaches out for your hand with his currently painfully red right hand, which you grasp instinctively, planning to make the grip a bit softer, but having to hold on more as he whisks you back to the Red Bull crowd, putting you with Geri and Christian.

"Where have you been?" Christian's question was frantic and directed toward Max as Geri swipes caringly at your white blouse.

"Doesn't matter." The answer mildly shocks everyone, showing that Max is running on pure adrenaline at the moment. He looks back at you. "Are you okay?"

You nod quickly at his answer, sad and tired doe eyes looking up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Well…now I'm worried you might get sued." As you spoke Max gathered you in a tight side hug and kissed your forehead.

"I fucking dare them." He says this with a flat neutral face, and then a grin suddenly appears once he looks toward you. "Love you." He leans down to place a kiss on your lips.

"Love you, too" You responded, tipping your head up toward you to get one last kiss before Max quickly makes his way into the cool down room for the last few minutes, joining Lewis and Charles.

"Where have you been, man?" Lewis was stationed by the stand holding his helmet, taking a long swig of water after his inquiry. Charles sat silently in one of the chairs, uncaring of the number indicating who it's supposed to be, also looking at Max quizzically. Max puts a finger up and watches the cameras in the room, waiting for them to be shut off indicating that filming has now been directed to the podium.

"I had to help Yn with something. Someone was being an asshole to her" He stretches his abused hand, bruising already starting.

"You punched someone?" Charles gets up and heads to the exit so the three can head to the podium. Max doesn't answer the question verbally, just looks up from his hand at him and lets a satisfying grin replace the flat expression on his face.

__________

"Baby, you're never this quiet. And it's been since we got back." You were sitting on the couch in his gaming room that sat behind his sim set up, hyper focused playing Mario Kart on your Nintendo Switch.

"I- I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." You mumble your answer, only half listening to Max's concern as you play your game.

"Yn, turn off the game and listen to me." You just press pause and look up to your left to place focus on Max, but Max wanted your undivided attention so he walked around to sit next to you, plucking the game from your hands and turning it off. When you didn't protest, he knew something was really wrong. "You have not been yourself, Yn."

"What, I'm supposed to be "childish" and "ditzy" all the time?" You snap, crossing your arms and avoiding eye contact.

"That's what it is." Max nods to himself and then uses the arm that he had outstretched along the back of the couch to tilt your head onto his shoulder. "You can't let the opinion of one person get to you, Love." Though meant to be comforting, Max's words just annoy you, making you lift your head from his shoulder and stand from the couch, pacing back and forth.

"But it's not the opinion of one person, it's the opinion of multiple people, apparently. I'm not sophisticated enough. I'm not mature enough. I'm not classy. I'm an airhead." You fight tears that prick at your eyes after using your fingers to list off comments you saw online. Max gets up from the couch to stop your pacing, lifting your head with his large hands and kissing a tear that got away. "I don't want to be a bad reflection on you, Max."

"You could never. Yn I am not exaggerating when I say that you are the best thing to ever come into my life. Okay?" You nod, but Max was not content with the lack of eye contact you've continued to maintain. "Yn?"

"Hmm?" You finally look up at Max when he calls your name, a soft grin briefly appearing on his face before disappearing.

"You know, I don't think just telling you will do anything." You hold the eye contact and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I think that I am going to have to fuck into my lovely girl's head exactly how perfect she is. What do you think?" The grin was back, but presented more like a shit-eating grin. The confusion and anger you felt moments ago was brushed away, replaced by shock and arousal, and all you could truly do in the moment was nod. "You can be quiet now, but I'm gonna need you to speak up later on, okay?" Another nod from your blank faced head makes Max chuckle before kissing you again, harder, deeper, his tongue invading your mouth and, like a good little girl, you copied the motions, and when he pulled away you had a bright smile on as your teeth took hold of your bottom lip. Max could see in your eyes that your demeanor was softening, focusing on the pleasure that was incoming for you, but he wanted to go a bit slower, really wanting to emphasize the affirmations and confidence building that is supposed to take place. "Can I take this off of you?" You nod and Max slowly lifts the oversized shirt above your head, dropping it to the floor when he sees what’s underneath. A sheer pink bra with flower detailing, your nipples visible through the fabric. “What’s this?” Max was like a kid on Christmas morning, looking at a tree full of presents from the stairwell.

“I didn’t feel that great this morning so I put this set on because it's my favorite and makes me feel pretty.” You rock on your feet during your explanation, hands behind your back, pushing your chest out.

“Set?” You nod, gentle grin on your face. “Show me.” You follow directions, shimmying out of the tight shorts you had on to display the matching pink, flower detailed thong you had on. “Oh, you do look pretty, lovely girl. But you're always pretty.” Max gets an idea on the direction he want to take things. “You know what? Repeat that.” He grasped your hands, backing up to the couch and sitting down, bringing you in and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m pretty?” You twist your head to the side, lips in a small pout and face confused. Max runs his hands up your arms and brings them to your waist.

“Mhm. Again.” His eyes were trained on your breasts, bringing his right hand to your left breast to cup it and run his thumb over the nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“I’m pretty.” You say it as a statement this time, but still tainted with uncertainty.

“Yes you are. Again.” Max instructs, looking you in the eye, hand still fondling your breast.

“I’m pretty.” You say it with a grin this, breath hitching when his hand moves up to run along your entire boob.

“That’s my lovely girl.” You smile a little brighter at the accolade and subconsciously run your eye up and down Max’s torso. “You want me to take it off?” You nod, pussy clenching at the simple action of Max asking what you wanted from him. “You’ve gotta ask then, my love. Use your words.”

“Can you take your shirt off, please.” You squeaked out, then inadvertently bringing him closer to your chest when you begin to mess with your nails.

“Of course I can.” And so he leans away from you and manually removes your hands from his shoulders, which you subtly frown at, but the loss of contact didn’t matter once the solid build of your boyfriend’s torso became visible, hands magnetically drawn to his shoulder and rubbing down his back. “Happy.” You nod, the gentle grin settling on your face again. “Now, let’s see…” His hands go back to glancing over your sides. “You… are… intelligent. Repeat that.” His hands have now strayed to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m-ah-intelligent.” You do as you’re told, shock when you feel the pads of Max’s fingers drag across your clit, exposed since he pushed the fabric soaked in your juices to the side.

“That okay?” Max looks up at your wide eyed face and you nod, which prompts Max’s fingers to touch you, stirring up wetness that he uses to caress your clit. “Again.”

“I’m intelligent.” You place your hands firmly on Max’s shoulders as the sensation from your clit being stimulated had your knees starting to get weak and caused you to grind into Max’s hand.

“Yes, you are very intelligent, my eager little baby.” Max is able to stop you from rocking your hips and pulls away his hand, sucking your slick from his fingers. “You want my thigh instead? So you can rest those legs a bit.” You nod as you lower yourself onto his thigh, exposed since he was wearing shorts. You move the fabric of your panties to the side to be able to drag your clit along the muscle ridges of your boyfriend’s thigh, that sensation making you wetter which made Max harder, tenting his athletic shorts. “That’s my smart, pretty little horny girl. Get off on my leg, baby.” Max’s praise and encouragement makes you hump his leg harder, whimpering, trying to satisfy the amplified desire that resulted from his words. “Now, what can you think of to say, lovely girl?

“Can’t think…” You hug into the crook of his neck, still whimpering at the feeling, but Max reaches back to remove your face from his neck so you can look into his eyes.

“Yes you can. I know you can. Think…” The face that you had, mouth hung open, brows knitted together, only made Max harder as he waited for you to speak.

“I…am…classy.” You keep riding his thigh, moaning when Max bounces his leg once.

“Again.” His hands were back on your body, migrating back up toward your boobs.

“I’m classy.” Your words begin to slur and the motion of your hips more erratic and irregular.

“Good. Good job, lovely girl.” He looks up at your face, eyes closed and head rolling as you concentrate on the excruciatingly slow building climax. “What else?” Max had removed a hand from your body to push down the hem of his shorts and boxers down to free his dick, already dripping pre-cum on his stomach.

“I’m not an airhead.” You were whining your words now, hands past Max’s face and holding onto the back of the couch, pink sheer bra now taunting him.

“You’re not, my love. Fuck. I promise you.” Max runs his thumb along his raging pink tip then begins to pump himself, watching your flustered face intently.

“Maxie, ‘m gonna cum.” You brought your face back to his neck and continued the erratic pace of your hips, but your declaration caused Max to let go of his dick and use his hands on your hips to stop your movements. “Please…” This word was moaned from your lips, your endearing neediness making Max’s heart flutter, liking the fact that he’s the one satisfying your whiny pleas.

“Hold on, baby. Get up.” As you do, Max watches a string of wetness stretch from his thigh to your partially covered pussy. He then frantically pushed down his shorts and underwear, kicking them who knows where, and brings his hands back home to your hips, hooking his fingers onto your underwear but then removing them, grinning up at you. “You take them off, my love.” At this point all you wanted was to feel Max, inside and out, so you wiggle out of your thong, but as you reach back to remove your bra, the feeling of Max’s hand on your thigh stops you. “Keep it on if it makes you feel pretty, baby. But let me just…” Max reaches out to your breasts, pushing the pliable fabric out of the way, leaving your exposed boobs to be outlined by the pink fabric and the covered wiring of the bra.

“I look pretty?” There it went, your mind on the back burner as the only thing you can think of is getting on Max’s lap so you can bury his hard cock deep inside you. Max knew his words had to be careful now, as you were more sensitive in this state, but he still wanted to get it through to you that you were the only one for him.

“Yes you do, baby. Come here.” He brings you closer by your waist, holding on tighter as you climb on the couch, straddling him and then finally lowering down on him, whimpering at how deep he was and how full you felt. You tucked your head into his neck again, this time he gives in for a moment, not moving his hips at all, but bringing his fingers down to gently circle your engorged clit. “Come on, I want to see my pretty girl’s lovely face. Can you do that for me?” You nod into his neck and then slowly pull back to be face to face, eyes glossy and lips slightly parted, drawing Max in to kiss them. It was slow yet sloppy, and when you guys pulled back from each other, your lips were shiny from the spit. “Beautiful.” Max starts to slowly drag his hips into you, enjoying the fucked out face that you had even after just riding his thigh. Praises in English and Dutch came as a whisper from his lips, heads press against each other.

“Wanna suck on smthn…” You request between little whimpers, to which Max obliges by bringing his right hand to your jaw so his thumb could trace your lips before you opened your mouth for it.

“You look so pretty sucking on my thumb, bouncing on my dick.” While one hand was occupying your mouth, the other hand had a firm grip on your ass, helping you move up and down, but most of your movement was assisted by the slight bounce of the couch. As he watches the concentration you had, trying your hardest to get to that edge, he decided he wanted to give your brain something else to do. "Say you're pretty, baby." You initially go to take his thumb out of your mouth to say it, but he insists otherwise. "Say it around my thumb, love."

"I'm pwetty." You repeated, wide eyes boring into his, bringing your hands up to wrap them around his wrist.

"Good. Ah, fuck." Max stopped his thrusting for a moment but you didn't stop your bouncing, rocking your hips into his waist, getting well needed friction to your clit from it rubbing his pelvis. "Say-fuck-say your smart."

"I'm smawt." Again you repeated, this time face a bit more strained as your body gets to that familiar ledge.

"You deserve me, baby. I'm the one that doesn't-ah- deserve you." Max starts thrusting again, taking the hand that was on your butt and pushing locs that hung in front of your face behind your ear.

"I desewve you." You just mindlessly repeat the part of the sentence that you knew was for you, bouncing, chasing your climax.

"Fuck, yes you do baby. I'm so happy you're mine, my love." He removes his thumb from your mouth so he is able to use both hands to grip your waist to move you, and you whimper because of the emptiness in your mouth. "I want to hear all of the pretty noises you make when you cum."

"Wanna cum…gonna come-ah. Ah!" A quick succession of moans and whines accompanied your climax, it eventually all becoming too much, causing you to fall forward into his chest, still whimpering. Max pulls his dick out of you slowly, trying hard not to stimulate you past your limit.

"Shhh-shit-give me one moment and I'll help you, pretty girl. Just relax." He keeps one hand on your back, fingers running along your spine as he uses his other hand to finish himself off, letting out sharp breaths as strings of cum shoot lazily onto his hand. After he comes down from his own high, he starts to coo you back from your subspace, letting you know how well you did, reinforcing what he had you repeat earlier, asking what you wanted him to bring back from the kitchen. Once he feels you've come down enough, he fixes your bra then picks up your oversized shirt from the floor and pulls it over your head, then goes to clean himself up enough to put his clothes back on and comes back to clean you up and make sure you drink the water he brought you. The rest of the night you guys cuddled on that couch, deciding to just sleep there for the night, and Max held you tight to his body, trying to physically protect you from the words that caused you so much mental anguish. He laid there, thinking, and decided that when you wake up, he's suggesting you delete Twitter.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 fake text #f1 smut #f1 smau #f1 imagines

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sluttywoozi · 1 year

Text

What Should We Become?

Title from Turbulence by Ateez

For: @sluttywonwoo my bestie and birthday queen

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 9.0k | Pairing: Yeosang x f!reader x San

You and San have been dating for years, you're well aware of his penchant for doing anything for anyone he loves. You just didn't know that extended to asking you to fuck his best friend, not that you mind.

Tags: est. relationship, boyfriend!san, bestfriend!yeosang, threesome, fluff, smut

Notes: boyfriend!san, you live together, pov lowkey all over the place bc i wanted to know what everyone was thinking soz

Warnings: so many feelings i did NOT plan for, food/alc mention, mention of past toxic relationship (yeo's), jealous san, mentions of san being possessive but specifically not in a gross way, nipple play, biting, oral (f and m rec.), fingering, squirting, they both have big dicks, protected piv, unprotected piv, spitroasting (hate that term so sorry), san cums inside, bc not discussed but they’re safe, open ending

Reader Notes: a bit more specific than usual bc this is for the bestie, ‘girlfriend’ used many times, she/her pronouns used, has breasts and a vagina, mention of marks showing on her skin, WAP

You fumble with the wrapping on the popcorn, cursing under your breath and trying to tear the plastic as Temi weaves in and out of your feet. San’s hand hovers just out of reach, ready and waiting to do it for you, but you pretend not to see it. He loves doing things for you and you love that about him, both because it means he’s considerate and also because it means you have to do less things, but sometimes you want to do them on your own. You know popcorn isn’t exactly the most impactful opportunity to make a stand, but it’s all about baby steps.

The bag is finally turning in the microwave when his fingers catch at your shirt and he starts tugging you into his orbit. He’s big, broad, but still lean enough that you think you could lift him, probably, not that you’ve ever tried. You’re musing about how many piggyback rides he’s given you and how little you’ve given him when he asks the question.

“Baby, how would you feel about sleeping with Yeosang?” He sounds nervous, his voice full of trepidation and the fabric of your top clenched in his hand.

“Like a sleepover? That’s fine with me, I can take the couch if you guys want to share the bed, I know you like your snuggle time. Just know I'm taking Temi with me,” you respond mildly, unsure as to why he’s so on edge.

You can see the pain enter his eyes when he realizes he’ll need to explain further.

“No, I mean, like- Ugh! This is so hard!” He sucks in a deep breath before expelling it along with the words, “I want you to have sex with Yeosang!”

“Ohhhh. Yeah, alright,” you shrug, like he asked if you’d eat Italian for dinner, not have sex with another man. A man who isn’t your boyfriend. A man who happens to be your boyfriend’s best friend. A man who happens to be your friend. A man you happen to find incredibly attractive.

“You agreed to that way too easily,” San pouts, pulling you closer with his arms wrapped around your waist. His fingers dig in possessively, as if to remind you who you really want, who you really love. Like you could ever forget.

You met San and Yeosang at the same time and spent some time with both of them as friends before San confessed his feelings for you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Yeosang at all in those few weeks, about Yeosang and San, and just how their dynamic would translate to sex.

But no matter how curious you were, and how prim and polished and perfect Yeosang is (and how much you want to wreck that perfection), San will always be the only man for you.

How could you be with anyone else when San is the only one who knows you? When he not only gives you his pickles but orders an extra side of them, just for you. When he started wearing socks to bed because you hate other peoples’ feet touching yours. When he always makes sure you have your favorite lunch to eat with your favorite show, and always buys those star pimple patches you like, and brought home a soaking wet, shivering, brown ball of fur that you promptly wrapped up in a fresh-from-the-dryer towel and named Temi.

San can read all of your moods, knows when you need extra attention or when you need solitude, knows when you want him all over you and when you can’t stand to be touched, knows how to calm you down and how to ramp you up, knows everything there is to know about you.

He even knows the less cute parts, the ones you try to keep hidden away from everyone else. The jealousy, the insecurity, the fear of inadequacy, he knows it all.

And he loves you. He loves you so much it shines out of every pore, so much it fills in every crack in your facade, so much he makes you glow with it. There’s no ‘but’, no ‘despite’, he loves every single thing about you because they’re about you.

The best part is, you’re not even special.

Sure, you’re special to him, but you’re not the only one he loves like this. He loves all of his friends with such intensity, knows them all better than he knows himself, would do anything for them. Even ask his girlfriend to have sex with them, apparently.

Making the decision to ask must have been beyond difficult for him. San is made up of a myriad of lovely qualities, but one of the less lovely ones is his possessiveness. It never crosses the bridge into toxicity, never scares you, but he does get a certain look on his face when his friends get too touchy with you. Or when a guy asks to buy you a drink at the bar after he goes to the bathroom. Or when your ex texts you or your male study buddy invites you out for dinner or, or, or.

But… you like it, if you’re being honest. You like when his eyes get heavy and warm on you and his grip gets tight and his body gets even bigger, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t enjoy his posturing, but you just can’t help it when you consider what often follows.

(San blowing your back out.)

(That’s what follows.)

The discussion of details comes later, when your popcorn has cooled enough to eat and San has gotten over his petty jealousy at the thought of you being touched by someone else. He’d gotten petulant about it after like he hadn’t considered that part of the equation, but he seems to have grown accustomed to it. There will be rules, of course, such as, “He can’t cum inside of you. That’s just for me.”

And, “No marks, either.”

“And he has to wear a condom.”

“And-”

“San, we don’t even know if Yeo wants to fuck me yet. Why don’t we get that squared away before we lay out all of the boundaries, okay?”

“Of course he wants to fuck you,” San almost sounds offended at the idea that he wouldn’t, “But, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he concedes.

“What brought this on, anyway? Is this… something you’re into?” You ask, not expecting a yes but also not expecting the answer you get.

“No, definitely not. You know I’m not a good sharer. It’s just that Yeo kind of wants to get back into dating but he’s a bit… unsteady after his last experience. I want him to have a good one before he puts himself out there again, for a confidence boost. And I know I can trust him with you, and you with him.”

It’s… well, shockingly isn’t the right word, because San is kind to a fault, sometimes, but it’s an unexpectedly altruistic reason, and you’re all the more glad you agreed. You would have been fine with it if he just wanted to watch another man fuck you because you think that’s hot, but to know that he really just wants to take care of his best friend makes you even more sure of your decision.

It helps that Yeosang looks like a prince and acts like one, too. You’ve wondered what he’s like in bed, if he’s the same or if he’s less refined, less quiet, less polite. He’s so strong, you wonder if he’ll throw you around or hold you down, or if he’ll handle you gently and hold your hand. You wouldn’t mind either, if you’re being honest.

The weight of San’s suspicious gaze tears you from your thoughts. You send him an innocent smile and lean in, batting your eyelashes and puckering up for a kiss. He obliges, of course, deepening it before you can even think to pull away, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and working its way inside. You love how he kisses you, so thoroughly, so passionately, like there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than you.

By the time he pulls away, you’re breathless and brainless, all thoughts of anyone but San wiped from your mind.

San decides to invite Yeosang over when you’re at one of your The Gals nights to pop the question. He literally feels like he’s about to propose as he paces the apartment, doing some last minute tidying and nervously smoothing his shirt every three minutes. It’s not like Yeosang’s never come over before - he’s nearly a regular fixture at this point. You and San had even considered giving him a key.

This is different though, he’s about to ask his best friend if he wants to have sex with his girlfriend. He still can’t believe he even thought of the idea, let alone pitched it to you, but here he is, rehearsing different ways of broaching the topic as he anxiously awaits Yeosang’s arrival.

He can’t be too direct or he’ll scare Yeosang away - he can be a bit skittish sometimes - but he also can’t dance around it too much or Yeo won’t figure out what he’s talking about. The guy is smart as hell but kind of slow on the uptake on occasion, a trait San is beyond fond of, though it makes it difficult to be subtle about things like this.

‘Things like this,’ as if he’s ever done anything of this nature before, he thinks with a wry laugh and shakes his head. Sharing you was never even a concept in his mind until Yeosang had confided in him that he was scared to get back out there after his ex. He’d brainstormed a few ways to help but kept going back to how much you’d helped him through sex when you first got together. He’d been completely inexperienced and insanely nervous until you started guiding him, and everything flowed from there. He wished you could help Yeosang the same way, and then realized the only thing stopping you from doing just that was him. It would have been selfish not to at least ask if you’d be interested, and though he was a little surprised (and annoyed) that you agreed with no hesitation, he still believes this is the right thing to do.

So when two timid knocks sound on the door, San’s nerves settle to a low simmer and he’s able to greet his best friend as normally as possible.

The normalcy only lasts for so long, his anxiety ticking back up the longer he makes awkward small talk with Yeosang. He knows Yeo can sense that something is off but he also knows he'll never say anything about it, will just sit here and watch TV and talk about nothing until San is ready to tell him. It’s a wonderful quality of Yeosang’s, the fact that he can read him so well and knows not to dig, but today San wishes he would. He’s not sure he can find it in himself to ask Yeosang if he’d like to fuck you, and a good lead in might be the only way he can bring it up.

Hours pass and San’s shoulders start to ache with tension. He still hasn’t said anything about the actual reason he invited Yeosang over today, and he’s starting to feel like he could vibrate out of his skin. He really didn’t think it would be this hard, definitely thought it would be more difficult to ask you rather than Yeosang, but here he is. It’s nearing bedtime and you’ll likely return home soon, and then what's San supposed to do? Ask Yeosang if he wants to have sex with you while you’re right here?

Wait.

Wait, that might be a good idea. You hadn’t discussed when exactly this would happen but from your texts tonight, San already knows you’re turned on, and Yeosang is here, so…

So... he stalls until your key starts turning in the lock and Temi starts screeching in reaction, knowing exactly what that sound means. He’s sure Yeosang noticed his change in demeanor but he doesn’t bother explaining, knowing that Yeo is going to be very confused for however long it takes to go through everything.

He doesn’t want to just spring his plan on you so he leaps up and jogs over from the couch to greet you at the door, shouting, “One sec!” at the living room before pulling you into the farthest corner of the kitchen. You follow with a huff, yelling, “Hi Yeosang!” and turning to San only when Yeo responds, "Hiii."

“Babe, hear me out,” San begs with his hands on your shoulders as he watches the confusion spread on your face.

“You haven’t said anything to hear out yet,” you remind him, arching a brow at him in expectation. “You just dragged me in here and you didn’t even let me say hi to Yeosang.”

“You did say hi to Yeosang, just now-,”

“That doesn’t count and you know it.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but I have to tell you something!”

“Okay, so tell me! I’m not tipsy anymore and I either want to shower or fuck so-,”

“That’s good because I want to ask Yeo right now if he wants to fuck you tonight. What are your thoughts?”

He hadn’t planned on sounding so frustrated when he told you but when the words start to spill out, he lets them. It doesn’t help that you’re really hot when you’re annoyed and he’s a bit upset that he’ll have to let Yeo have you first if everything goes well.

“Um.”

The third voice startles him, makes his fingers clench your shoulders a bit too hard and at the breath hissed through your teeth, he lets go. He pets at the sore spots, whispering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” until you grab his hands and tell him, “Sannie, it’s okay. Let’s focus on Yeo.”

He turns cautiously, unsure of what he’ll find as he shifts his attention to the statue that was his best friend. Yeosang stands perfectly still, his eyes alarmed and his mouth half open. San can’t tell if he’s scared or grossed out or offended or all three, and this suddenly feels like the worst idea he’s ever had. Not just the telling him part but the whole thing. Regret settles heavily in his stomach, mortification closing up his throat as he tries to find the right words to say. He’s about to start with the most teary apology of his life when Yeosang starts to speak.

“Um, I do want to- I would. Like that. I would like to do that,” Yeosang says firmly, if a bit clumsily. He nods emphatically as he speaks, seriously, like this is an honor that’s been bestowed upon him, and San supposes it is. You haven’t fucked many people other than San and San has fucked nobody other than you, so to let someone into that aspect of your relationship is a sign of just how much you both trust Yeosang and each other.

“Oh,” You and San exhale in unison, “Well, that makes things easier,” San continues.

Shifting to lean back against the counter, San crosses his arms and looks directly into Yeosang’s eyes, “We have some rules.” You roll yours, pulling San’s arms away from his chest enough to slide between them and rest your back against him to break the rising tension.

“I like rules,” Yeosang assures you both excitedly, looking more relaxed now that he knows there are restrictions.

“One: you’re wearing a condom. I got a few different sizes, just in case. Two: you’re not cumming inside of her, even with the condom. Three: no marking-,”

“But you can bite!” You interject helpfully, making San nod and repeat, “Yes, biting is okay, just don’t leave any marks.”

Yeosang smiles primly, nodding along as well. The look in his eye tells San he’s going over the rules in his head and he has to push down the wave of fondness in order to maintain his stern facade. As well as he knows Yeo would never do anything to hurt you, San still feels like he needs to protect you in a situation like this, and the rules make him feel better about entrusting you to someone else. (San also knows you’re a fully grown person and can make your own decisions, but you’re his girlfriend too and he loves you, deal with it.)

“And if at any point any of us wants to stop, all we have to do is say so,” San declares, making sure you and Yeosang understand that the situation is under your full control. He’s planning on just being a spectator, but if you’re up for it after Yeosang…

You and Yeo agree, exchanging nervous smiles and glancing toward the bedroom. It’s clear you’re both becoming antsy, but San has one last thing to say.

“Okay, I just want us to remember that we’re all friends here. Well, babe, we’re more than that, obviously, and Yeo, you know you’re my man, but what I’m trying to say is that there’s no reason to be nervous because it’s all love here, right?”

“Right,” you parrot with a squeeze to his forearm as Yeosang smiles and twists his fingers together. He’s clearly still nervous but you seem perfectly at ease and San is reminded once again why this is a good idea. You’re just what Yeo needs to find his confidence again and San hopes that tonight is the first step to him finding his own you, too.

Things are awkward once you all reach the bedroom. Temi is asleep on the bed so you have to take her to her favorite blanket in the living room. She stays asleep, the sweet little log she is, but you leave out a plate of food just in case she wakes up. It strikes you that you haven’t really gotten to prepare at all and though you’re used to just going at it with San, you need some time to get ready for Yeosang. You feel a bit disheveled after Gals’ Night so you continue straight into the bathroom to strip your dirty clothes and start the shower.

Peeking your head out from behind the door, you tell the boys, “Just gimme five! Why don’t you get the condoms out, babe?”

San does so, presenting Yeosang with a grocery bag of four boxes, sizes small to extra-large. He really did cover all of his bases (there were two possibilities that, as his best friend and also someone who’s seen him in wet swim trunks, San knew he could ignore). Yeo avoids his eyes and dips a hand into the bag, grabbing the extra-large box and clumsily pawing at the packaging. He finally rips it open, a roll of 36 condoms spilling out onto the bed, much to his obvious consternation.

“There weren’t smaller boxes?” Yeosang asks, eyeing the multicolored packages splayed on the sheets.

“Better safe than sorry,” San responds with a shrug, sweeping all but one condom back into the box before tossing the bag into the closet.

Yeosang can’t help but agree, stepping back to sit carefully on the bed next to the condom, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his gaze anywhere but on San. He can hear the shower, hear the muted smack of water on tile, knows you’re naked in there. Can almost imagine the drops rolling their way down your body, slipping over the curves that he definitely has not been very well aware of since he met you.

This feels insane, this whole situation, but Yeosang would rather die than leave right now. It’s not like he’s been lying in wait to steal you from San, but he did have a little bit of a crush on you that he never told him about. He’d known that San had fallen for you practically at first sight, and he could never put himself above his best friend like that. That said, this opportunity is one he’s planning on taking full advantage of. He’s still not sure why San wants him to have sex with you but he’s scared to ask, scared to jeopardize this arrangement and leave here without ever knowing you like this.

Unfortunately, it’s something he needs to know before he can go any further.

“San, why do you want to let me do this? You’re not the best at sharing,” Yeosang asks quietly, as if the lower his volume the less likely it is that San will change his mind.

“Well,” San sighs, looking around the room to avoid his eyes, though Yeosang suspects that’s more for him than anything. “Your last relationship was shitty. She wasn’t nice to you and she was always ragging on you or telling you you weren’t good enough. You mentioned a few weeks ago you were thinking of joining some dating apps, so I wanted to figure out how to boost your confidence when it comes to stuff like this. But all I could think was that I wished you had someone like Y/N to help you through it like I did. And it occurred to me that you do, if I let you.”

The room is silent besides the low rush of the shower and Yeosang’s brain is anything but. Any other guy would just take him to a bar and play wingman, but here San is, offering to let him fuck his girlfriend if it means he’ll get some of his self-esteem back. He’s not sure it’s something he could bear to do, and he’s shocked San is willing to even try with how territorial he can get. Yeosang knows he can trust him though, and that he can trust you. So when San looks at him head on, his expression open and honest, there’s nothing else for Yeosang to do but thank him.

“You’re a really good friend, San. The best.”

You get a bit distracted in the shower and it takes much longer than five minutes, but you can’t say you regret it. You feel so refreshed, so dewy, and you know you smell good as fuck so now is the prime time to reenter the absurd circumstances you’ve created with your boyfriend. You’re a little nervous now, the small amount of time you’d been out of the dynamic leaving you feeling off-kilter and unsure. You know San is waiting for you out there though, Yeosang too, and that’s enough to give you the courage you need to push open the door. Steam escapes around you, framing you in what you hope is a flattering haze, and both boys’ eyes snap to you immediately. You freeze in place, your eyes wide and your fingers gripping tightly at the towel wrapped around your body as they take you in. San’s already half hard, likely a Pavlovian response to what happens whenever you’re at least semi-naked in his vicinity (you getting bent over or pushed up against the closest surface). Yeosang’s body is turned away from you so you can’t tell if he’s similarly affected but the expression on his face is that of someone who’s just seen an angel, which bolsters your confidence enough to let the towel slip down a bit further.

You can feel San’s eyes on you as you tease Yeosang, know he’s smiling a smile far too sweet for this context, and you just can’t resist the urge to turn and look at him.

You were right, his face is lit up with a grin that could rival the sun, but his eyes are steamy, heavy, possessive. You can tell he’s trying his best to step back and let you and Yeo get to know each other like this, can tell how hard it is for him to even share you at this level of undress, and you vow to yourself that every day this week, you’ll be swallowing his dick. He deserves it, to be taken care of and pampered and spoiled, and you know there’s no one better for the job than you.

Stepping further into the room, you move to San first, pressing a kiss to his lips and attempting to move on. It gets out of hand quickly, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling the towel tight across your ass. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, nibbling on the tip and letting his own glide against yours before shifting one hand to your stomach and physically pushing you away. You break apart at the last possible second, your head angled forward even as your body is forced to move backward, wanting to kiss him for as long as you can.

Yeosang waits patiently on the bed, standing when San pushes you in his direction and letting you fix the towel before taking your hands in his.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, wanting to check in at every step and also desperately wishing he could read your mind, if only to know what you think of him.

“Good! I’m good. A little nervous. How are you feeling?”

“I’m nervous too,” he whispers, like he doesn’t want San to hear after you’d agreed there was no reason to be, “But excited.”

“Me too,” you smile indulgently at him, wondering why you suddenly have the conversation skills of an incel when you’re just talking to Yeosang.

Obviously, you know why. But you wish it wasn’t so, wish you didn’t feel so stilted, wish you could summon that easy rapport you always share with him. He seems to sense this, pursing his lips in that small smile you love before offering, “Maybe if I take my shirt off?”

“Oh. Oh, um, yeah, I think that could help. Maybe,” you breathe, forcing yourself not to blink as his fingers pull the fabric higher and higher, revealing rows of pale abs two by two. You think you count eight before you hear a throat clear behind you and turn to find San shirtless as well. Cooing at his rising jealousy, you blow him a kiss and rotate back to Yeosang, only to find a smirk on his face and his hands on his belt.

When did he get all confident? You wonder, realizing that the switch happened at the same time San made his green eyes known, and suddenly, his change in demeanor makes perfect sense. San and Yeosang get into a little rivalry every now and then, just some friendly competition, and it seems this is going to be one of those times. Does that make you the prize? You’re not sure but it definitely feels like you’re the winner here, getting to experience Yeosang while knowing that San will be waiting for you when it’s all over. You try to remember you’re doing this for Yeo, not for yourself, but it’s difficult when you’ve got two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen wanting you.

“Go ahead then,” You challenge Yeosang, just because you’re curious what he’ll do, and he reacts exactly as you expected. He blanches, one hand moving to run through his hair and the other reaching up to cover what he can of his chest, which isn’t much. It’s cute, adorable, really, the way he dropped the cockiness as soon as he was forced to commit.

You can tell he’s going to need some guidance from here, frozen as he is, so you gently take the hand hiding his pecs and pull him down to sit with you on the bed. San drops into the chair in the corner of the room but stays silent, letting you and Yeosang work it out. You’re grateful for it, for him, for his quiet strength steadying the both of you.

“Why don’t we just start with a kiss and go from there? Do you want to kiss me, Yeosang?” You whisper, shuffling closer to him while keeping your grip on your towel.

“Yes. I do, please,” he answers immediately, scooting over a few inches with his knees pressed tightly together.

Leaning in slowly, you brush your lips over his. You can feel his cupid’s bow, feel his breath, feel the minute trembling of his bottom lip as he waits for you to kiss him properly. You will, of course you will, but first you want to make him just a little bit crazy. You let your mouth graze his, sink your teeth ever so slightly into that bottom lip, giving the teeniest tiniest sucks every so often. Yeosang shivers against you, his body taut like a bowstring, his fingers gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles go white. He’s trying so hard to restrain himself that you decide to give him more, slipping your tongue into his mouth to glide against his and sighing into him when he tentatively nudges back.

He tastes like coke and popcorn, the flawless combination of sweet and salty tasting even better on his tongue, making you suck at it in pulses and making Yeosang let out a quiet moan. The sound sends zaps of electricity through you, one of your hands leaving your towel to cup his face and kiss him harder. He’s addictive, his sweet little noises and his sharp jawline, and you force yourself to pull back before you can get too carried away. You can’t just kiss him all night, you’re- Well… No! You cannot just kiss him all night!

Even if you want to.

He tries to follow but you still him with your free hand on his chest while you virtually gasp for air, your mind racing as you try to figure out where to go from here. You’re feeling a bit scrambled, slightly out of sorts, so you seek out the person who always knows where you are even when you don’t.

San’s already looking at you, his eyes soft even as his hands grip the armrests, and he raises a brow when you lock eyes. Instantly, he knows your predicament and helps you out of it.

“Babe, being on the bed might be more comfy, hm?” He sounds slightly amused and you narrow your eyes at him in a playful glare as you and Yeosang get situated on the duvet. You’re glad his teasing is directed at you though, you have a feeling it wouldn’t be well received by Yeosang at this particular point in time.

You wish you’d put underwear on under the towel - you’re not quite ready to be buck ass naked in front of your boyfriend’s best friend - but you hadn’t brought any into the bathroom and it didn’t feel right in the moment to go to the dresser, so here you are. One layer from said state, and a flimsy layer at that. However, you were born to persevere, laying down and tugging at the towel until it lays flat over you. Yeosang was busy taking off his pants, thankfully, and when you’re both finished fussing, you take each other in.

Your eyes rove over him as he sits on his knees, his gray boxer briefs stretched tight over his thighs and his posture immaculate. You can see the outline of his cock, see it straining against the fabric, a couple spots of pre-cum darkened fabric dotted at the head. You can also see the XL condom next to him, and thank God you’re laying down because your knees just went weak at the thought of even seeing his dick. Let alone touching it. Let alone having it inside of you. You want all of those things, but there’s a nagging thought in the back of your brain that reminds you, Yeosang isn’t San.

Yeosang isn’t San and he isn’t yours either, so you tell yourself not to get too comfortable with him tonight. You can get a little comfortable though, enough to reach for his hand and pull him closer, enough to ask him, “Do you want me to take this off?”

“God yes,” he answers nearly before you even finished talking, his words more like a sigh as he straddles your legs and drops to hover above you. Your fingers play with the edge of the towel, less so to tease him and more so to give yourself more time before he sees you naked. You’re not shy about your body but you feel shy with him for some reason, so you push it down slowly, baring your breasts to him inch by inch.

He sucks in a sharp gasp through his teeth as you reveal yourself. His eyes go heavy-lidded and hot on you and he doesn’t look away, his gaze laser-focused and his hands clenched into fists next to your head. He stares, saying and doing nothing long enough that you start to squirm under his attention.

“You can touch her,” San reminds him. He says it loudly enough that Yeosang turns to level a look at him, making San mime zipping his mouth shut and locking it with a key. He even tosses the key at Yeosang, who catches and offers it to you.

“Why thank you, been looking for this thing for ages,” you beam, sliding the imaginary key under the part of the towel still covering you, much to San’s obvious displeasure.

The little moment between the three of you breaks up the tension, allowing Yeosang to feel comfortable enough to shift his weight onto one hand and bring the other up to cover your breast. He keeps it light, squeezes just enough to feel the weight of you in his palm, but he’s already thinking about getting his mouth on you, getting his teeth on you. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you shiver, your flesh rippling under his hand in the most entrancing way.

He didn’t expect to like teasing you but he does, likes moving to the other side just when you’re starting to settle down, likes grazing his nails over your sensitive skin and making you shiver, likes pulling and rolling and twisting your nipples until you’re moaning and arching into his touch. It isn’t long before his hands aren’t enough, and he’s barely able to ask if he can use his mouth before you’re whining, “Yes, yes, yes!” and sinking your fingers into his hair.

You taste so good, so fresh and clean after your shower, Yeosang can’t get enough. He sucks, nibbles, licks his way from side to side, never settling on one spot for too long. His teeth don’t ever sink in enough to leave a lasting bruise; he wishes he could mark you but rules are rules, and Yeosang loves rules, so this isn’t one he’ll break. He’s content enough to cover every square inch of your chest in kisses, trailing them down your stomach and over your hip bones.

“Can I eat you out? Please?” Yeosang nearly begs, hoping you and San will say yes but unsure as this hadn’t been covered in the pre-sex negotiations.

You’re already nodding, but it must occur to you to ask San too as your eyes find his. He giggles at the look on your face, your lips pouted and trembling and your eyebrows screwed up as you silently plead with San.

“Yes, okay, fine!” San exclaims, throwing his hands up as if he can no longer stand to look at your puppy dog eyes.

But Yeosang doesn’t want to overstep any bounds, won’t risk this friendship just for some oral (even if he really wants to go down on you, like A Lot), so he says, “San, if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t.”

“No, it’s just,” he sighs, “It’s really nice and I’m scared you’ll like it too much.”

He likes oral, but he's never liked it too much.

It’s a little nerve wracking to watch you push the rest of the towel away, fully baring yourself to him. He’s sure you’re the more nervous one here, but this still feels like an important moment in your friendship and Yeosang can’t help but lean down and kiss you, just a simple, gentle kiss in thanks. For your vulnerability, for your candor, for your careful way of handling him. He’s just thankful to you.

He’s even more thankful when he shoulders your thighs apart and licks into you for the first time. You taste… exquisite? Divine? Like all of the heavens concentrated into one being? Now he gets why San was so worried, because he’s already addicted. You’re wet, so fucking wet, that all he needs to do is glide his tongue through your folds to smear it all over. He likes it messy, contrary to his reserved nature, so he lets himself lose a bit of technique to get as much of you in, on, and around his mouth as he can.

“She likes when you go inside,” San offers, but Yeosang wants to find his own way, so he grunts in acknowledgement and continues to devour you as he pleases. You’d both said this is for him, he can afford to be a bit selfish.

You don’t seem to mind, if the way you’re writhing and whining says anything. To Yeosang, it says everything, though he’ll need to hold your hips down if he wants to keep going. Eventually, he does decide to slide his tongue inside you, just because you were starting to sound like you might cry, and when he does it’s mind blowing. The taste of you is so much more rich here and there’s so much of your slick seeping out that he can just drink you right down. It’s glorious, you’re glorious, and he’s desperate to make you cum.

He fucks you with his tongue, pushes it in and out of your entrance and shifts a thumb down from your hip to rub circles over your clit. He experiments until he finds the pressure and motion you like and from there, it’s easy. Easy to let his groans vibrate into you, to reach up and put one of your hands back in his hair, to let you guide him. Easy to slip one, then two fingers in alongside his tongue. Easy to curl them up, hook them inside, spread you open and get right at your g-spot.

“Can you squirt?” He slurs, his heart in his throat and his voice reflecting it. He almost doesn’t sound like himself, his voice so deep it rumbles in his chest and his words flowing together. His fingers are still pistoning in and out of you so you can’t answer, but San does, thankfully.

“Yeah, she can. If you just-,”

“Perfect.”

Yeosang doubles his efforts, sinks another finger inside and moves his tongue up to your clit, pushing at it in pulses as he wraps his lips around it and sucks. He gets a bit rougher and faster with his fingers, fucking you like he means it, and your whines get higher and higher and higher until you’re keening, bucking up against the arm laid over your hips. It won’t be long now, he knows, until you’re flooding him with your wetness and (hopefully) crying your way through an orgasm.

They don’t always happen together, but he wants to make them happen together for you, so he makes sure to focus on your clit even as he fingerfucks you into oblivion. You like it, he thinks, love it maybe, and soon enough, your pussy is clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside, so insanely tight that he thinks he’ll die when he gets his dick inside of you. You cry out, broken and pleasure-soaked, when you cum. Your clit beats like a tiny little heart and your walls undulate around his fingers as slick gushes out of you in spurts. It’s perfect, you’re perfect, and he’s already mourning the fact that he’ll never get to do this again.

Once his neck and chest are covered in you, he finishes helping you through your orgasm and lets up. He would push for another but he doesn’t want to be greedy, so he gently places your legs back down on the bed and shakily sits up. You’re still panting, your lashes wet and your mouth open, and fuck if you aren’t the prettiest thing Yeosang has ever seen. The haze in your eyes clears up, your gaze finds his, and it’s two seconds of silence before you’re both giggling your hearts out. There’s something funny about making one of your best friends squirt, and it’s even funnier when it’s your best friend’s girlfriend too.

“Have fun?” San’s voice breaks up your laughter, his jealousy evident though his restraint is too. Yeosang imagines this must be incredibly difficult for him, and once again he’s struck with the desire to thank you both. Who else can say they have friends like this? Friends who let him into their bed, who share themselves with him, who take care of him. Yeosang is so lucky, so insanely lucky, to have you two.

“I love you guys,” Yeosang sighs, and it seems San can’t hold onto his annoyance in the face of his affection because his frown becomes a grin that dimples his cheeks and brightens his eyes. You’re looking similarly fond, your smile sweet and your hands gentle when they pull him to you so you can place a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you too, Yeo,” You and San repeat in unison, on the same page in this as in almost everything.

Yeosang doesn’t know what will happen after tonight but he’s secure in the knowledge that this won’t do anything but bring the three of you closer. He thinks.

He doesn’t have long to linger on the thoughts, your hands coming to rest on his stomach and your nails dragging down to catch at his boxers. He’s ridiculously hard, doesn’t need any of the preparation you’re offering, might even cum if you touch him, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get your hands on him tonight. He nods when you ask if you can take his boxers off, tries to quiet the racing of his heart as you slowly pull them down. His dick bounces up and against his stomach, smearing precum on his abs before it bobs down heavily. He’s big, he knows, and the three fingers he’d given you should be enough, but he’s considering offering a fourth when he takes notice of the look in your eyes.

You look like you’re not scared at all, like this is a walk in the park or a day at the beach, and it’s so fucking sexy that Yeosang just knows he can’t let you touch him too much or he’ll blow. You can touch him a little though, he decides, taking your hand when you hesitate and bringing it to rest on his cock. Your hand is smaller than his, warmer and softer too, and it feels miles better than his own. You definitely know what you’re doing, starting to stroke him and running your thumb up and down the frenulum and over the head, a combination that already has Yeosang seeing stars. He wishes he could let you keep going but he’ll cum if he doesn’t stop you, is even a bit nervous that he’ll cum the second he slides inside of you, but that’s a risk he’s dying to take.

His hand covers yours, squeezing down hard at the base to stave off the orgasm, as he whispers, “Stop, stop, stop, I’ll cum.”

You smile proudly, wiggling your hand out from under his to grab the condom at his side and hold it out. For some reason, opening the wrapper and rolling it on feels momentous, like this is the point of no return. Which is ridiculous because you’ve already done all sorts of things friends don’t do, and because he knows he could stop anytime he wants. The problem is that he doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t ever want to stop, but as he folds your legs up and glides the covered head of his cock over your clit, he decides that’s a problem for future Yeosang.

Present Yeosang is preoccupied, mesmerized by how his dick covers the whole of your pussy. He could stare for days, months, years, but you wriggle beneath him in impatience so he lines himself up and starts to slowly push in. Your cunt sucks him in, your walls contracting over and over until he bottoms out with a strangled moan.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” He can hear San say somewhere in the background, but his head is swimming at the pressure of you around him and he can’t summon the words to respond. You are perfect, though, your cunt is perfect, and welcoming, and wet as all fuck, and he wishes he could make a home here inside of you but he knows he can’t, so he pulls back and pumps into you again. He starts slow, doesn’t go as rough as he usually likes to but you get impatient fast, wrapping your arms around his neck whispering, “Harder, harder, please,” until he decides to give you what you want.

He pounds into you, slamming in and out and groaning as he feels your pussy get tighter and tighter around him. He thinks you might already be close, knows that as soon as you cum, he will too and this will all be over, so he breathlessly asks, “Will you ride me? I wanna see you,” pulling out and clumsily switching places with you when your eyes grow bright and you happily sigh, “Yes!”

His view as you climb on top of him is immaculate, your body all stretched out over his and your tits sitting perfectly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, watching the bashful grin rise on your face and catching San’s nod in his peripheral vision. He’s also got his lips pursed and his knees bouncing, and Yeosang feels a little bad that he’s taking such advantage of the situation. San gets you all the time though, practically whenever he wants, so Yeosang feels he’s allowed to be a bit selfish just this once.

He holds his dick up as you lower yourself onto him, swallowing him again in your blinding heat and making his head spin. You resume the quick pace, slamming yourself down on him over and over, and all Yeosang can do is lay there and take it. Well, he could grab your hips and fuck up into you but he’s enjoying being fucked too much to change anything about this. He’s always been the one doing the work in sex and it’s so unbelievably wonderful to just let you take him.

You like it too, might even love it, he thinks. You’re making the sweetest sounds, your moans and whimpers and sighs intoxicating to him. You feel so much tighter around him like this, too, and he feels like he’s even deeper than he was before, your ass smacking against his balls with every thrust. He’s getting close, he’s getting so fucking close, and he knows he can’t cum inside you but he doesn’t want to cum in the condom either, but you hadn’t discussed where he could cum if not in the condom, and suddenly Yeosang is right there on the edge with no idea what to do.

“San, I’m gonna cum. What do I-,”

“In my mouth, Yeo. Cum in my mouth,” you interject, climbing off of him and stopping his orgasm in its tracks. He grips the base of his cock and peels off the condom as San takes you by the ankles, flips you onto your stomach, and drags you to lay horizontally on the bed.

“Want me now or want me to wait, baby?” San asks you, one hand on your back and one on his dick.

“Now, Sannie, I want you now,” you respond, your voice shot and your eyes teary as you turn to watch him line himself up and slide home. You whine his name and the sound soothes him, settles the simmering jealousy in his stomach and replaces it with heat, which only grows as he feels you adjust to him. He must be a bit bigger than Yeosang and that calms him a little bit more, even though he knows it shouldn’t.

Poor Yeosang still hasn’t cum so San beckons him forward, ignoring how weird it feels to be interacting with his best friend while he’s fucking his girlfriend. Yeosang shuffles closer to you on unsteady feet, his eyes dark as he watches his dick disappear in your mouth. You’re so fucking good at sucking dick he’s almost jealous it’s not him in your throat right now, but he knows he’s got the better end of the deal, getting to fuck you raw and cum inside you. Getting to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning. Getting to go grocery shopping with you and brush his teeth next to you and take you on dates. Getting to love you. Nothing could be better than his life with you, and thinking about it has him on the verge of tears and on the edge of cumming.

He normally lasts longer but he’s had to watch you get pleasured for an hour while having nothing to do with it, he thinks he can cut himself a little slack. It would be kind of beautiful and poetic if you could all cum together, so he slips one hand between your thighs and strums your clit in the way that makes you go fucking crazy, and fucking crazy you go. Your cunt seizes up around him, your back arching further and your thighs shaking. You’d be shouting if you didn’t have Yeosang’s dick in your mouth and though he misses your noises, he’s happy that Yeosang is having such a good time.

It’s obvious he’s close again, his eyes screwed shut and his breathing labored, and thank fuck he is because San is cumming, fuck, he’s cumming, and you are too. Your pussy clenches around him in pulses, milking his cock and sucking his cum in deeper and deeper until he has nothing left to give. His head swims and through the haze, he can hear Yeosang swearing and groaning, hear your name leaving his lips, and San would be lying if he said it didn’t make him cum just a little bit harder.

When your cunt has squeezed the last of his cum out of his dick, San drapes himself over your back, pressing kisses across your shoulders and snaking his arms around your stomach. He always feels so cuddly after sex and he knows the comfort is good for you too, so he stays as he is even as Yeosang pulls out and drops to his knees to press a kiss to your lips. That’s something San always does after you suck him off and he’s happy it seems to be an instinct for his best friend as well.

San wants to let you and Yeosang have your time so he peels himself off your back and stands, lumbering over to the bathroom to get a warm, damp washcloth to clean you up. You may want a shower later and he knows you’ll want to brush your teeth, but this will do for now.

When he re-enters the bedroom, Yeosang is laying on his back with you snuggled up against his shoulder. You’re talking quietly with each other, giggling like friends do at a sleepover, and San feels his heart grow five times bigger. He squeezes Yeosang’s free shoulder before he climbs onto the bed and settles in next to you. His hand touches Yeosang’s side when he wraps his arm around you but neither flinch away. They've just been closer to each other than they ever have and ever will be again, a little touching is nothing to them now.

“So… Did it work?” San asks, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his cheek on your arm so he can look at Yeosang.

“Did what work?” Yeosang responds with confusion, having not even a clue what San is talking about.

“We did this so you could work on your confidence, remember? So you can start dating again?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure, for sure,” Yeosang agrees absentmindedly, his eyes locked on the ceiling.

“Good, we just want you to be happy,” you whisper drowsily.

Yeosang doesn’t have the heart to tell either of you that he’s happier now than he’s ever been. And that he’s not sure he really needs to start dating again after all.

"Babe, do you think you could go sleep on the couch? You know I like my snuggle time, and Temi's already there," San whispers in the dark. Yeosang jerks awake, and, affronted, scream-whispers, "I will go home right now if you make her sleep on the couch, you animal."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" San jerks against you, trying to defend himself from Yeosang's swatting arm. All that does is jostle the three of you closer and somewhere, somehow, in the midst of it all, you fall into blissful, sore slumber.

AN: thank you for being born bestie ily more than life itself! i hope this is everything we dreamed of and more 💖 and thank you @petrichor-mingi for beta reading!!!

951 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 4 months

Note

I heard request were open and I immediately came here.

A snowy day with dad!Hobie au! Cooking food together! building snowman’s etc!

-💗

This prompt had me in near tears, I love it sm! Thank you for requesting, my love!! (I looked like this the entire time writing it --- 🥹)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin Au. FLUFF

A/N: The twins are a little bit older here! I love them sm 🥹

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You and Hobie woke up to freezing temperatures which turned into a blessing in disguise because you two were entangled together on the bed, cuddled comfortably. Legs intertwined, arms looped around each other like a koala. He presses sleepy kisses on your cool cheeks, his excuse? He says he's keeping you warm and away from hypothermia.

The snow falls outside, frosting the windows. Hobie's senses tingle, he stops his barrage of kisses for a moment.

“The gremlins are comin’” he murmurs over your cheek.

“How do you wanna do this? Fake sleep or hide under the bed?” your eyes are half lidded, cool hands splayed under his shirt for warmth.

Sure enough, the soft pitter patter of socked feet runs towards your bedroom. Their giggles waking you up in an instant.

Hobie hums, the vibrations spreading through your face. “Too tired, let's act like we froze from the cold”

“This is why I love you” falling limp, smooching him quickly, you close your eyes once again. Hobie acts as your shield from the anticipated jumping you're about to endure.

The doors burst open, your girls' unmistakable laughter echoes out in your shared bedroom. You hear an ‘oomf’ sound from both sides of the bed, you surmise that they're both having a hard time reaching the top. After some shuffling about, tiny hands and feet crawl over the duvet, their stifled giggles making you lose your act with a tiny smile.

“Shhh” someone on your right shushes the other. “they're still sleeping, Billie”

“They won't be for long!” Thanks to your human shield, you don't get the brunt of Billie’s foot on your stomach. Unfortunately, Hobie gets the full force of five year old strength.

Yet, he stays strong, still faking sleep. Also thanks to his enhanced strength, he barely felt it. But you can't help but cringe for him.

“Mum’s awake!” Mona crawls further up to cup your cheek in her tiny hands. Your daughter gasps, “she's frozen!”

You screech and in turn, Hobie does the exact same thing you do, flailing your arms to envelope each girl in a surprise hug. Mona laughs with her belly, her legs are kicking about, trying to escape your wrath. While Billie yelps before screaming out a “Tickles!” when Hobie's scruff nudges her neck.

“Got a live one here–!” Hobie sputters when he gets a mouthful of Billie's hair. She giggles, bringing her head closer to her dad's face, almost headbutting Hobie.

After a moment of giggles and happy screeches, you and Hobie lay wheezing while the girls are energetic as ever, jumping excitedly on the mattress.

“It's snowing, did you see?!” Billie lands on top of you, her chin laying on your chest comfortably. “Mummy, did you see?”

“I can feel it, Muffin. It's freezing!” you squeeze her tightly, burying your face in her curly hair.

Mona drops gracefully in between you and Hobie, cuddling next to him.

“‘m hungry. What's for breakfast?” She looks up at Hobie with her big eyes, reminiscent of Hobie's exact face when he wants something from you. But for Mona it all comes naturally to her.

“How am I supposed to make breakfast when my hands have fallen off from the cold?” He lifts up his hands tucked inside his pajama sleeves, looking like his hands are nowhere near his arms.

“Daddd!” They simultaneously say while you chuckle.

“Have some sympathy for your dad, his hands are gone!”

Billie plays along, “how are you gonna use your webby now?” You've called Hobie's web shooters as webby since they could talk and now it's stuck in their vocabulary.

“Billie and I could be Spider-Man now, dad” Mona says in between giggles, five year old vocabulary working its magic.

“Yeah!” Billie exclaims.

Hobie turns to you while the girls talk about their plans on how to stop crime together.

“Our girls don't have empathy, what did we do wrong?” He smiles throughout it, moving Mona's head to give you a quick kiss. How could he resist when the light shines directly at your smiling face, lashes kissing your cheeks as you grin widely at his girls? He has to indulge or else he'll burst at the seams

—

After a hearty breakfast, Hobie and Billie decided it's time for a snowman competition. The snow has gotten thick enough that you have to wade through it like mud. So while Hobie’s helping Billie with all her layers, Ramona sits on a bar stool next to you, eyes enthralled by the swirling hot chocolate inside the pot.

“Are you sure you don't want to join them, cheese?” With one hand you grip her shirt so she doesn't fall on the stove, on the other is the wooden spoon you're using to stir the pot.

“Yes, I want hot chocolate” she sniffs at the chocolate smell.

“You can have hot chocolate and play with them”

“I don't like the cold,” she murmurs.

You hear the door creak open and then Billie's excited squealing, a second later you hear a thud, like something or someone fell into a pile of snow, then you hear Hobie's loud laughter.

“That's okay, we'll stay here. Then we'll judge who wins the snowman competition, sounds good?”

She nods, smiling a toothy smile at you. “Can I have the heart marshmallows?”

How could you say no to that face? “Of course,” you nuzzle her soft curls. “Do you want extra milk?”

“Yes please!”

You hear a knocking on the kitchen windows, craning your neck to look, you see Hobie holding Billie up by her armpits, her face is squished on the glass, nose flattened and lips puckered.

That can't be sanitary.

“Hobie, that window isn't clean”

Billie waves at you and her sister, eyes bright and happy. “I drowned in the snow!” she points at a patch of snow, sure enough there's a Billie shaped hole in it. “Can you see, Mony?”

“I can! And mum says that window is dirty!” She grimaces.

“Dad! Mum says the glass is dirty!” She looks below her.

You hear a muffled “Crap!”

Well at least he tried not to swear that hard—

Mona tugs at your sleeve. “What does crap mean? Dad says it a lot”

“Hobart Brown!”

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bokutosbiceps · 4 months

Text

‘tis the season | kuroko no basuke

gom minus kuroko plus kagami x gn!reader | fluff | ~1.4k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit, uh—rudolph spoilers? i guess? also some cursing

a/n: welcome to my xmas special for the kuroko no basuke boys !! as usual, i chose to write for GOM (minus kuroko) + kagami. ALSO i realized i never ever specified that, in every single one of my pieces for knb, all of the GOM + kagami are aged up to college. pls enjoy 🎄

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

akashi seijuurou’s favorite christmas tradition is attending a christmas concert. he always remembers how his mother would help him get all dressed up, how his father would actually turn off his phone for the evening, they’d go to a lovely dinner, and then they’d . but now his mother’s gone and his father is consumed by his work—so he goes with you! it’s different of course, but he loves being able to see you dressed up just for him and take you out to a nice dinner, just the two of you. no teammates allowed.

seijuurou is the perfect gentleman all night, keeping a strong arm around your waist and pressing his side into yours for warmth while you make the short walk from the restaurant to the concert hall. and once the concert hall lights are dimmed, he’s intertwining his fingers with yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb, whispering a sweet merry christmas, my love to you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

aomine daiki can be found napping by the fireplace like a big cat as soon as it gets just a little bit cold outside. is he planning on doing anything else once he’s stretched out by the fire? nope. is he moaning and groaning for you to come lay down next to him while you’re decorating your place for the holidays? yep.

“oi, you’re making too much noise…can’t fall asleep.” daiki complains, earning a narrow eyed glare from you.

“dai, if you would just help—” you yelp as you feel your arm getting tugged down, ending up on your butt. daiki hasn't even opened his eyes, but he's pulling you down till your face is pressed into his chest.

“chill. i'll help you after we get some shut eye, aight?” daiki drones, placing his hand on your ass to keep you in place and resting his chin on top of your head. you just sigh and relax, leaning against daiki and reluctantly reveling in the warmth of him and the fire.

kagami taiga and ice skating do not mix. taiga had thought it’d be fun and romantic to take you on an ice skating date for christmas eve. you’d be clinging to the side of the rink and he’d be your tall and steady hero, ready to glide around the ice with you clinging to him as your savior. he did not expect for it to be the other way around.

“s-s-slow down, y/n!” kagami stutters as you slowly glide to the edge of the rink so he can have something more tangible to hold on to. your shoulders were sore from the way your hulking boyfriend had been gripping them as you lead him around the ice.

“i’d have thought someone who’s such a capable athlete wouldn’t be so terrible at ice skating.” you purse your lips, unable to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your lips. “do basketball players not have to have balance?”

“shut up!” taiga huffs as he slaps his palms down onto the railing of the rink. he turns to you with a pout on his lips. “i’ll get the hang of it soon…you’ll see!” his blush is spreading to the tips of his ears and you know he undoubtedly feels embarrassed. you skate over to him and press your body against his, backing him up against the edge of the rink and leaning up to place a quick kiss to his nose.

“i believe in you, taiga.”

kise ryouta loves watching christmas movies! a cozy, plush throw wrapped around his shoulders, fuzzy socks on his feet, a nice cup of hot cocoa in his hands, and you cuddled into his side. his favorite movie is the very old, claymation rudolph the red nose reindeer because he just adores the blonde elf who aspires to be a dentist. i feel so connected to him somehow! kise always says, excitedly pointing at the screen when the elf first shows up in the movie.

he’ll sing along to every single song, grabbing you by the shoulders and swaying the two of you along to the beat or picking up your hands and making them move along to the melody. and, of course, without fail, he will bawl his eyes out when rudolph is chosen to lead santa’s sleigh on christmas eve.

“ryou, you’ve watched this movie every year for as long as you’ve known yourself…why do you cry every time?” you tease, reaching up to gently pinch his cheeks, already red from crying.

ryouta wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you against his chest like you’re a big plushie, and buries his face in your hair.

“i can’t help it! he’s head reindeer…just like his dad!” ryouta sniffles, holding you close. you just giggle and hug him back, trying to comfort your big baby because of an eighty year old movie.

midorima shintarou hates going to the christmas market. not because you’re there—you’re actually the only reason his team gets to enjoy his presence at the market. he hates it because his entire team shows up and is dragging him around the market, asking him which little knick knacks he enjoys. his team knows that shintarou is a difficult man to shop for, so they like to take him to the christmas market and get his direct opinion on things.

shintarou the introvert finds this little tradition exhausting; being pulled every which way, giving his opinion on every single little thing that his friends might think he likes, having to explain that he is not a collector, nanodayo and that he just needs them for his lucky items.

shintarou’s favorite part of the evening is when his friends say goodnight and leave you and him to wander the christmas market on your own. you always have to calm him down after his friends leave, because they really do bring up straight to his boiling pot and leave you to bring the heat down to a simmer.

he decides this is nice, though, since no one’s asking him if he likes this or that or if he’d smile if he happened to get this for christmas. he’s not too keen on PDA, but he will take your hand in his and hold it gently while you walk through the various stalls (again). it’s just you and him, your intertwined hands, and the little trails of frozen carbon dioxide you leave in puffs behind you.

murasakibara atsushi is competitive when it comes to decorating christmas cookies. he will constantly be looking over your shoulder at your work and making little quips and comments about what you should have done.

“i didn’t know you were such a professional, sushi.” you say, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you move the piping bag in various circles and half moons along the golden, baked dough of the cookies.

“of course, i am. this is literally my job.” atsushi drones, expertly icing the cookies and using a fine tip piping bag to draw intricate decorations on top. you glance over at his cookies and notice how perfect they are. damn, you really didn’t realize he was a literal professional.

unfortunately for you, you stay admiring atsushi’s cookies for too long and leave yours unprotected from selfish, needy hands. atsushi swiftly moves behind you, moving you to the side with his hands on your hips, then swipes a half iced cookie from your baking sheet.

“murasakibara atsushi! i wasn’t done with that one!” you gently beat your fist against atsushi’s solid chest, causing him to huff in protest.

“doesn’t matter, looks like shit anyways.” atsushi hums and finishes the cookie in one bite, licking his fingers happily. “tastes delicious, though.” atsushi smiles and turns back to your baking sheet, looming over the rest of your cookies. you move between him and the counter and spread your arms wide, hoping to guard your cookies from the ex basketball player turned pastry chef.

“i can offer you something sweeter if you leave my cookies alone!” you plead. atsushi raises an eyebrow at you as if to say gimme it then and you smile innocently at him. you turn your head to the side and tap your cheek with your index finger.

atsushi understands your gesture and a deep chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he leans in to place a frosting speckled peck to your cheek.

“y/n-chin knows i can’t resist her. my favorite treat.”

taglist: none! lemme know if you wanna be added to my knb taglist ✨

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skyeet-the-writer · 7 months

Text

The One With the Girl from Canada

while im cleaning out my drafts, here's something from a few months ago. i really like this and i've written and are currently writing some more little chapters, so be on the lookout for them!! this is also posted on my ao3 if you want to go read it there too :) chandler bing x female!reader summary: new york city is a big place for a girl who lived in canada her entire life, but you manage. one afternoon, while getting some work done in a cozy coffee shop, a very handsome brunette asks to sit beside you. who are you to tell him no? word count: ~2.3k warnings: none i don't think lmao that never happens next>

Central Perk is a special spot for Chandler Bing. That's where he talks with his friends, it's where they all relax, it's where he met Rachel just a couple of months ago, coming in wearing a wedding dress and looking highly frazzled. It's got a nice, calming atmosphere, pretty good coffee, and the absolute best spot in all of Manhattan.

The area with the couch is where he and his friends always sit. Sometimes he feels bad for taking it, but nobody seems to mind, ever. And so he always sits there, usually on the couch when it is available.

When he walked into Central Perk one afternoon after work, he just wanted to grab a coffee and wait for the rest of his friends to show up eventually. He didn't expect there to be anyone there, no one ever was at this time on a Thursday.

But then he saw someone sitting in his spot.

Normally, he would have been upset, probably ask them to leave, nicely, of course, and pray to God that they left because he hates confrontation.

However, the person sitting in his spot was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She looked like she had been there for a few hours, at least, because there was an empty plate with crumbs on it and a large mug drained, both sitting on the coffee table her feet were propped up on.

For a moment, Chandler stood at the counter and stared at her like some kind of creep. He had never seen her around and he knew he'd remember if he did. She wore gray jeans rolled up at the ankles to show off her colorful socks underneath a pair of black and white Converses. As his eyes traveled up her frame, he saw her wearing some kind of band tee and a tiny, silver necklace around her neck. She seemed to be writing something and, from what Chandler could tell, she seemed to be deep into thought. Her pencil scratched across the notebook and every so often, she would pause and read over it before promptly erasing something and writing once more.

He heard his name being said and turned around to see Guther holding out a coffee cup to him.

"Oh, thanks, Gunther," he told the worker, taking the coffee from him.

Chandler had never been good at talking to girls and more often than not chickened out on the opportunity to do so. But he didn't want to chicken out on talking to you.

And so, with confidence, he walked over to the area he always sat at and stood just beside the couch, next to your arm that was leaning on the armrest.

Before now, he didn't notice the headphones around your ears and the Walkman that sat beside you, but when he clears his throat and you don't react, he understands why. And so, again and a little bit louder, he clears his throat, gently tapping on your shoulder.

Your eyes tear away from the page in your lap at the touch of another person and you whip your head up to see a man standing beside you, looking at you with a smile. Perhaps too loudly, you exclaim, "Oh, shit, sorry!" and hastily pause your music and let the headphones rest around your neck. You blink up at the man and ask, "Yes?"

"I, uh." Chandler swallows thickly because even your voice is one from a dream. "You're, uh, kind of in my spot."

With a mischievous smile, you turn around in your seat like you're looking for something. "Oh, word? I don't see your name on it."

And then you smile at him snarkily and Chandler forgets how to breathe. But then he laughs, a bit awkwardly. Your sarcastic grin fades into a true one and you add, "Don't worry, I'll move."

When you start to gather your things, Chandler is quick to put a stop to it. He doesn't want you to move, not now, not ever. Not when he's just started to talk to you. "No, no, you're fine, I'm just kidding."

You stop your movements and look up at him. "Oh, alright. You can sit next to me, though."

Chandler doesn't have to be told twice. He sits beside you on the opposite side of the couch and takes a drink of his coffee like that will do anything to cure his jitters.

"What's your name?" you ask him, setting your notebook in your lap for just a moment. You wonder if he wants to have a conversation, but not many people in New York do.

He answers, "Chandler."

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. I'm y/n."

God, even your name sounds like something from a song.

"It's nice to meet you, too, y/n." He takes notice of the notebook in your lap and feels the urge to ask, "Mind if I ask what you're writing?"

With another grin, you say, "What if I did?"

Chandler can only wonder if your smile is contagious because he feels his lips curl upwards. "I mean, I'd still ask. I'm nosey."

You laugh and tilt your notebook for him to read. "It's a screenplay I'm writing."

Chandler's eyes widen. "You're a screenwriter? What, you make movies and stuff?"

"I wish." You scoff and feel a slight heat rise to your cheeks. "No, I write stories for movies and stuff. At least, I try."

"Is it not going so well?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Some studio called me up a few months ago, said they liked the idea I submitted and gave me a few months to come up with a first draft. And I've got two more weeks to finish it, so we'll see."

"I'm sure it's great," Chandler says and he means it. He can't write for shit, but something about you seems so...creative and special. "Even if I just met you."

You laugh again and close the notebook, stashing it away in the tote bag that rests on the floor. "Thanks, really."

"Of course." When you turn your body to face him, he sees what band is on your shirt and, even though he knows who it is, he asks, "What band is that?"

When he points to your chest, you look down and answer, "Oh, Nirvana."

"Oh, my God, I love them!"

"Really?" Your face breaks into a grin and you lean forwards a little. "What's your favorite song."

"'Heart-Shaped Box'," he says.

"Oh, that's good. I like 'Come As You Are'."

Soon, the conversation seems to flow quite naturally between the pair of you. He tells you about his boring job, something with a bunch of numbers and nothing exciting. You both compare bands and he realizes you're much more into rock and alternative works, but he guessed that the second he saw the leather jacket that rests beside you.

Joey is the first to arrive. Chandler glances up at the door when he hears the bell above it jingle and sees his roommate falter at the sight of you. You're not looking, rummaging through your tote bag for something and Chandler's eyes widen at the sight of the other person. If Joey flirts with you, Chandler will kill him.

Joey, clearly not catching on to Chandler's look from across the cafe, sees you and smirks, walking over.

"Hey, Chandler," he greets but doesn't look at his friend, eyes settling on you. "Who's, uh, your friend?"

You turn up at the sound of another person and spot the Italian-American smiling at you. You smile back and say, "I'm y/n."

"How you doin'?" Joey smirks and sits himself down on the high stool beside you. "I'm Joey."

"Hi, Joey," you reply, glancing at Chandler who quickly wipes the glare from his face and smiles at you. "You guys know each other?"

"We're roommates," he answers, motioning at his friend who is still staring at you.

You blink and shift in your seat. "Oh."

"I like your shirt," Joey says.

"You like Nirvana, too?" Your face brightens and Chandler almost melts.

But then his roommate says, "Who?"

And that look on your face is gone. Your smile falls and you look away back into your tote, mumbling, "Never mind."

Chandler meets his friend's eyes and shakes his head twice, brows furrowed. Joey always gets the girl. Chandler deserves to hope, at least.

You pull out a packet of gum and open it. You take a piece out and unwrap it before offering one to Chandler. He smiles and takes it, popping it in his mouth and shoving the wrapper in his pocket.

"Want some gum?" you ask the other man with darker and messier hair.

He takes one and thanks you. You return it with a grin and put the gum back in your tote, on top of your notebook.

Joey says your name and you look at him. "So, you live around here?"

You nod. "Yeah, I live in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh, cool, cool. How long have you lived here? You grew up in New York?"

Immediately, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't grow up here."

"Where'd you grow up?" Chandler asks, tilting his head

"Winnipeg," you answer, biting back a smile.

Chandler's brows furrow and Joey asks, "Where's that?"

"Manitoba." Your straight cracks a bit and you try to fight the smile that wants to paint itself across your lips.

Joey looks lost and asks again, "...Where's that?"

"Canada," you tell him, fully grinning now.

Joey gasps and Chandler tries not to roll his eyes. He figured it out when you said Manitoba. He says, "You're from Canada?"

You nod, turning your head to look at him. "Yep."

"Do you speak French?" Joey asks, touching your arm, clearly already friendly with you.

Turning to him, you answer, "Non."

Chandler laughs and you giggle, crossing one leg over the other.

"I speak Italian," Joey says.

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

He nods and leans forward in his chair, smirking. "Sei bellissima."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're beautiful," he answers, voice a little lower than it was before.

Some heat rushes up your neck and you look away at your lap. "Oh."

Chandler glares at his friend, but Joey doesn't catch it.

Thankfully, before Chandler reaches over you to choke Joey, the bell dings and he glances at the door. Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel are walking in and while the rest of his friends make their way over, Rachel immediately goes to clock in for her shift.

They walk over and greet the other two and Phoebe is the first to address you. "Oh, wow, you're pretty."

You laugh out loud, blushing even harder at the compliment from a woman, touching your necklace. "Thank you. I like your skirt."

Phoebe giggles and swishes her skirt. "Thanks."

"This is y/n," Chandler introduces you to his friends.

"Hey." You lift your hand in a wave of sorts, feeling like you're butting in on their group. You should leave, but in a minute. You don't want to be rude.

Chandler's friends introduce themselves--Ross, Monica, and Phoebe, you repeat their names in your head to remember better--and then he gestures towards the coffee bar. "And the girl over there is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you guys," you say politely, squeezing your hands in your lap.

"You too." Monica smiles. "I love your shirt, by the way."

"Thanks." You grin, basking in all the compliments.

Ross looks at Monica and asks, "You listen to Nirvana?"

Monica fixes him with a look. "Yes, because I'm cooler than you."

You chuckle at their interaction when Joey suddenly blurts out, "Ask her where she's from!"

You giggle at the man's antics and look at the others.

Ross smiles and asks, "Alright. Where are you from?"

"Winnipeg," you reply, still smiling. Chandler thinks he's going to swoon.

Monica is the first to figure it out. "You live in Canada?"

You nod. "I mean, I used to. I moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, my god, so you just moved here," Chandler says.

"Why did you move all the way from Canada down to here?" Ross wonders.

"I'm a screenwriter and ended up getting a job down here," you answer. "Besides, Canada is boring, so I was looking for a change of scenery."

"Well, how do you like it here so far?" Phoebe asks.

You shrug. "It's pretty nice. A little colder, somehow, but I like it. There are a lot more people and a lot more things to do and see. I lived in Winnipeg my entire life so I kind of felt like I saw everything."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada," Rachel says, coming to hand out coffee.

You smile. "It's nice. Alberta is really pretty."

Mustering up some courage, Chandler says, "Hey, if you ever need someone to show you around the city, I'll be happy to help you."

And then you look at him and grin, nodding. "That'd be sick."

He feels heat start to creep up his cheeks, and he smiles back. "Awesome."

You look at the time on the clock and say, "I've got to head out, but it was great to meet you guys."

"Yeah, you too!" Monica says.

Taking a Post-it note from your bag, you write down your number and hand it to Chandler. He takes it and tries not to stare at it too hard. "Hope to catch you guys later."

Chandler's friends wave to you and you walk out the door, shrugging your jacket on before walking off. Chandler stares at the window for several seconds after you're gone and only snaps out of it when Monica says something.

"Chandler, how the hell did you get her number?"

He shrugs, looks at the bright blue Post-it note, and reads it.

here :) (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

He smiles and puts it in his pocket, trying to ignore the looks his friends are giving him. You're very cool and very pretty and Chandler can't wait to see you again.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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dollfaceksj · 9 months

Note

I just read pt 4 TENSIONNN. im dying of anticipation omfggg😩

well wait no longer!

tell me ur thoughts!

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #5

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

you wait by the door whilst tae goes to find jungkook and tell him u’ll be accompanying him home

that sounds weird.

ur just walking home with him

to get something

that’s it.

you tap your heel against the tiles impatiently as you wait for jungkook

once you see him approaching you, you’re already turning to open up the door

you walk out and feel his presence in your wake, confirmed when you hear the door shut behind you

you don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s there cause you know he is

you can hear his footsteps

you thought you were going to outpace him but your feet in these heels are killing you

like seriously killing you

who told you to wear new heels to a fucking party DUMBASS

“are you in pain?” jungkook says from behind you

you turn and glance at jungkook, watching as he nods towards your wobbling legs

“what’s it to you?”

damnnn can u not be bitchy for once

he sighs quietly and shakes his head, clearly annoyed w your tone but not saying anything since you’re his senior. “are you really going to walk all the way to then walk back if your feet hurt that much?”

can he stop acting like he’s worried good Godddd

“and what do you expect me to do? fly to my destination?” you say, annoyed

you turn and keep walking, continuing to wobble in your shoes

there’s a loud sigh that reaches your ears before a big hand wraps around your bicep and tugs you back

you tumble from the sudden impact and almost curse but the words don’t make it out when he pushes you onto a nearby, short, stone mailbox

a soft yelp escapes your lips as your ass lands on the hard surface

you want to scold him but when you look down, jungkook is on one knee in front of you

HELLO?

what is he DOING

UR TOO YOUNG TO GET MARRIED

well not too young

BUT NOT READY?

your dumb thoughts get set aside when he gently holds your leg up by your calve, the other hand tugging off your shoe

his hand on your skin literally electrifies your entire fucking body

seeing him between your legs is also not fucking helping your case

you manage to squeak out, “what are you do–”

he cuts you off. “for the love of God, be quiet for once.”

a scowl forms on your face. “i’m your senior, show some respect,” you huff, watching as he gently shoves his sneaker onto your foot

“yeah, yeah,” he dismisses you quietly, doing the same to the other foot

what

happening

he raises to his feet and picks your heels up, holding them both in one hand by the ankle bands

“what about you?” you nod toward his sock-covered feet

“don’t worry about that.” he starts moving ahead, walking down the dark road and not waiting for you

in his black socks

on the cold concrete

jerk

ASSHOLE

but

a sweet asshole

an asshole with feelings

you feel bad for being so rude to him

it was clearly just a joke when he said he didn’t like you

fragile ego much?

like what are you a MAN??? get your shit together!

you jog up to him, walking by his side

it’s quiet

the only sounds are your footsteps combined with his

you don’t say anything and neither does he

but he instinctively holds his arm out in front of you whenever you cross a road

he automatically closes the gap between you two whenever a stranger walks past

he wordlessly takes the side of the pavement thats closer to the road

who knew he was such?? a gentleman???

well… rumor says he fucks girls cause he loves fucking them… not because he’s collecting them like trophies

or is he just being nice hoping to get laid right now?

son of a bitch. he probably is.

wouldn’t you let him though? he’s pretty hot and rumors say he knows what he’s doing lol

NO!!! be normal. ur friend just asked you to go fetch something and you will

it’s just a 5 minute walk and it really did feel like the shortest walk ever because he stops at a certain building and pulls out his keys

you silently follow him into the lobby, up the stairs and then into his own apartment

you look around the living room and rub your own arms, watching as he sets your heels down on the accent table by his door

he tugs his coat off and walks further in, turning on the lights and taking his socks off right away

“you know,” you say as you scan his decor and furniture. “your place is a lot bigger than tae’s. why are you always there instead of here?”

he digs his hands into the cabinet in his living room before fishing out the medium sized speaker

then, he says, “because chances are, you’re there.”

😂😂😂😂

right

he’s funny you’ll give him that.

AAAAAAAAAA

WHAT IS HIS DEAL?

bro.

why would he even say that man…

“you literally never even talked to me when i was there.” your rebuttal makes him chuckle as he starts rummaging through his other drawers, seemingly looking for a bag that you can carry the speaker in

“so what? i can’t just appreciate that pretty face of yours?” he hums when he finally finds a bag and dumps the speaker inside

what the FUCK

can he just stop.

he’s so full of shit

you roll your eyes and say, “wrap it up, jungkook. you’d never look at me either.”

he walks up to you, bag in hand, shit-eating grin on his lips

“this is why i like you.” he hunches over and stuffs your heels into the bag too. he holds the bag out to you. “anyone else would’ve fallen for that but you see right through my bullshit.”

wow

lol

alright

why are u suddenly

disappointed?

you squint your eyes at him. “and this is why i’ll never give younger guys a chance. so damn childish.” you snatch the bag out of his hands

he chuckles and peers at you through his brows. “you considered giving me a chance?”

your response is immediate. “it never even crossed my mind, be serious.”

why is your heart beating out of control though

if he keeps closing the distance between you he WILL hear YOUR HEART beating like crazy

she’s saying baby, saenggakaji ma….

he tilts his head back a bit, staring you down through hooded eyes

“that’s too bad.” he kisses his teeth with a loud smack. “cause i’ve been thinking about you lately.”

okay

alright

think about something dumb

like a spongebob episode

anything

to make sure he DOESNT know the effect he has on you

“that’s cute,” you start, “and what are you thinking about right now? what league of legends character to play with when i leave?”

but suddenly, he’s standing a bit

too

close?

like if you can smell his calvin klein cologne he’s definitely standing too close

he shrugs his shoulders. “what it would be like to kiss you.”

😀

WOOP WOOP THATS THE SOUND OF THE POLICE

he needs to be thrown in jail ASAP

like IMMEDIATELY.

girl don’t let it get to you. don’t let it get to YOU

it takes you a few moments of speechlessness until you finally decide to speak up.

“ugh,” you mumble as you turn around and open his door, ready to leave. “you’re such a fuckboy. yuck.”

everything happens all at once

jungkook’s chest pressed against your back

his hand pressed against the door and slamming it shut before you can even attempt to leave

you turn around and back up but only to be met with the door

holy shit

HOLY DHIT

hes standing so close

“what the hell?” you manage to ask without sounding *kinda* scared

“what do you know?” the playful tone in his voice is gone.

like … literally gone?

your breath hitches in your throat

ANSWER HIM!!!

“what?”

“what do you know? who told you?”

uhhh

FUCK

this must be why he doesnt want ppl knowing

he probably treats the word fuckboy like a slur and gets offended when its used on him

what a dumbass

you shrug your shoulders, hoping you appear casual. “no one told me, just look at you.”

“no, don’t gaslight me. who told you?”

you frown. you don’t like him pressing you like this.

“no one,” you repeat

he closes his eyes and it seriously looks like he’s trying to keep his temper in check

“y/n. who. told. you.”

well!

sorry tae! ur not about to throw eunbi under the bus.

she’s got all the juice!

you respond with, “taehyung.”

at that, he dryly chuckles and pushes himself off the door

“when?”

“like 2 weeks ago when yall were playing cod at his place.”

then he turns to look at you, a raise to his brow

oh no

why does it look like he just realized something

“so,” he begins as he walks closer to you again. “you sit next to me for the first time, talk to me, make flirty jokes, touch my shoulder, my hair….. after taehyung told you about me?”

silence

pure fucking silence

cause why did u literally just snitch on urself u dumb FUCK

“no i just,” you start but there’s nothing for you to say. you fucked up big time

his lips slowly curl into a smirk so sinister it makes your fucking knees buckle

“shh.” he shushes you, a chuckle leaving his as he shakes his head

“you’ve got it all wrong, jeon.”

your words mean nothing to him, not when his face is closing in on yours

oh shit

fuck

is he really

is he really going to kiss you right now?

what the fuck WHAT THE FUCK

take a breather

FUCK

oh my god

his breath grazes your glossy lips

your breath has picked up so you close your eyes, trying to steady your breath

but you quickly realize that closing your eyes will make it seem like you’re anticipating a kiss

so you open your eyes again, staring up into his eyes with your own big ones

your eyes automatically drop to his lips, almost going cross eyed at how close his lips are getting to yours

his eyes are staring straight into yours, melting your soul from the intensity

your heart shoots up your airway and into your throat when his eyes drop to your lips

fuck fuck fuck

oh my goodness

its really happening

why aren’t you stopping him?

tell him to stop.

tell him to stop right no-

wait…

did you just

hear the door clicking open?

by jungkook?

then he parts his lips to say these next few words:

“you can keep my shoes, i’ll pick them up one of these days.”

and with a final glance at your lips, he pushes himself off the door and walks back into the living room

haha

right

did he just

really do that?

with a persistent lump forming in your throat, you scramble to open the door further and leave his home quickly before you embarrass yourself further

facing him from here on out is going to be fun. CUE SARCASM.

jungkook: 1

you: 0

to be continued

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259 notes · View notes

cinnaminyoons · 1 year

Text

STAR THEORY !!

!! jjk x m!reader

!! wc | 6.8k

!! tags | dilf!jk + dilf!reader (obv), non-idol au, lil age gap (jk’s 25, reader’s at least late 20s), reader lived in america for some time + reader is a chef (food comfort & domesticity i love u), reader’s children and dog are named, reader had a wife and also has a hip tattoo

[ event masterlist ]

dilf/dilf

pets are in love and so are they

“we are... incredibly close right now.”

the bedroom door bursts open.

"appa!"

it's too early for this.

"appa," she pants, little feet bouncing across the carpet until a weight begins to tug erratically at his blankets. "appa, get up, get up, there're new people!"

jungkook pulls a pillow over his head.

she puffs her cheeks out and launches herself onto his bed; she elbows him in the bony front of his leg. he groans in pain as she scrambles over his legs and grabs his pillow with both hands.

"get up, appa! i wanna go see!"

blearily, jungkook lifts his head, groping for the blinds past his bedside table. he leans uncomfortably far out into the cold of his room before he latches onto the chain and gives it a good pull.

the wooden blinds clatter up, dousing the room with pale morning light – the white bang that birthed the universe. she giggles and slides down from the bed, crawling up to the window and pressing her knuckles against the cold glass.

on the street below are a man and a little girl. another girl! she delights herself with fantasies of having a best friend – maybe they'd go play on the playground, and with their combined strength, they'll knock down the mean queen bee from the monkey bars.

they carry boxes into the neighbouring house, assisted by movers. a fridge, a mattress – they manoeuvre them through the gates leading around to the side of the house, entering through the glass sliding doors. she watches them, fascinated, as the visible kitchen begins to fill with cardboard boxes.

she cranes her neck, pressing her forehead against the glass until it stings her skin. nobody else comes through, and she knows who the hired help are because they wear bright orange shirts.

she squints at the man's left hand when he rests it against the column of the alfresco, speaking to the little girl. he's like her appa – he doesn't wear a marriage ring.

"what's so interesting?" he combs his fingers through his messy hair.

she glances over her shoulder with big brown eyes. "nobody's lived in that house for ages. d'you think they'll be nice?"

"i'm sure they are. c'mere, miri – you'll get a cold."

she skips over, lifting her arms dutifully. jungkook pulls a small pink jersey from his closet and tugs it over her head, helping her arms into the sleeves.

"where are your socks?" he asks with a groggy frown. he's always been slow to wake. "your toes will fall off."

"bam took them."

"he what?"

"bam took my socks," she says helpfully.

he sighs, rising to his feet. "okay. up we go, then."

he heaves her into his arms, settling her against his hip as he shuffles out of his bedroom and down the stairs. she's more than capable of walking on cold floors on her own – maybe it'd be a good lesson to teach about letting the dog take one's socks – but jungkook admits to himself that it's mostly for him. babies turn into children so quickly, and he finds he misses having her little warmth holding onto his shoulder.

bam meets them at the foot of the stairs, barking his good morning greeting. miri smiles and waves hello, and bam's tail wags faster as he follows them to the back door – he darts out with a bark, leaping into a run for freedom around the large yard. he shuts the door.

"right – here we are." he places her on the mat in the kitchen, in front of the sink. it protects her feet from the tiles. he feels somewhat more awake. "any requests for breakfast, miri? the fruits are still fresh – would you like some yoghurt and banana with your cereal?"

"with strawberries, too, please," she requests, watching him move towards the fruit bowl.

"how many strawberries?"

she opens her mouth. she frowns. carefully, she raises five fingers. "five."

"five? you must be hungry today," he comments, placing a banana on the chopping board next to the knife and leaning over to the fridge to fish out the tray of strawberries. he bends over. "on three. one."

he scoops her up under his arm, holding her like rolled carpet. she hums as she chooses her strawberries, placing them on the blue chopping board. she shoves a sixth in her mouth and giggles as jungkook rolls his eyes at her with a fond smile, setting her down. "go grab your cereal, okay? i'll be done in a minute."

"okay!" her cheek leaves jungkook's palm as she whisks away to a lower cupboard, taking her pick of the different cereals in easy-pour containers.

he pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows. he sets to work with the knife, chopping wedges out of the tops of the strawberries and slicing them in half. beside him, miri cautiously measures out her cereal on her own red child-sized table, tipping the container a few degrees at a time to control the flow.

a thump outside. he glances up. bam stops barking.

he sets down the knife and strides over to the door, dropping the wet handtowel on the edge of the bench. he leans out into the chilly air. "bam?"

no response. jungkook slips from his indoor slides to his outdoor ones and hurries outside, worry forming a knot in his stomach. "bam, come here!" he whistles, short and sharp.

he peeks behind the bushes, where a collection of toys have gathered as bam's treasure trove. no dog.

"shit," he mutters, eyes widening as he spots the open fence door by the side of the house. he hurries through it, grabbing the edge of the door. "bam!"

a bark by his feet. he startles ten feet into the air and a curse slips out of his mouth.

kneeling on the stone path and staring up at him is a little girl in a thick purple jacket. she looks about miri's age. bam had his head resting on her legs before they were so rudely interrupted.

he swallows another bad word and softens his voice. "hey. i don't think i've seen you around here before."

she stares up at him for a moment longer, rubbing bam's ears slowly. "me and papa came here today."

"oh! you must be our new neighbours." the moving truck is gone. he glances over the fence, before lowering himself to her level. "do you know where your papa is?"

"in there." she points at the house. she says nothing more, her eyes narrowed slightly mistrustfully.

"does he know you're here? i don't want him to be worried about you. come on – i'll bring you over."

she recoils from his offered hand, hugging bam's neck. the usually active pup seems unusually calm.

"i just want to walk you over, that's all. it's cold out here, and those pebbles can't be comfy."

she glances over him, then nods with as much dignity as she can muster and rises to her booted feet, brushing off her knees. bam stands as well, and jungkook gives him a pat.

he smiles at her, discreetly pulling his sleeves down over his sleeve tattoos. they might not make the best impression of his character. "so, you moved here today? what do you think of it?"

she shrugs, following him. "it's a lot colder. but papa says he got a good job here and can take care of me."

"really? do you know what his job is?"

"he's a chef! he makes really good food. do you like carrot cake? his carrot cake is the best. you should try some."

he smiles down at her as they approach the front door. "thank you for the offer. we'll see what happens."

he raps his knuckles against the front door firmly. he wonders if it sounds too aggressive, but there's nothing he can do about it, and there's an out-of-breath man standing in front of him. a very attractive out-of-breath man.

his eyes widen as he notices the girl beside him. "anya! what are you doing out there?"

she crosses her arms, defiant. "exploring."

"i – i told you to stay inside, didn't i? anya, neither of us knows our way around! you could've gotten lost if you hadn't—"

his eyes flicker up to jungkook's. he clears his throat and the girl shuffles over the threshold, grabbing onto his pant leg and burying her face in it. "hello. i am so sorry about my daughter – really, it feels like locks just fall apart around her. thank you so much for retrieving her. i left her in the hallway for two minutes to set up her bed, and then—"

"she escaped containment?"

the man cracks a frazzled smile. "yeah, suppose you could say that. ah—i'm ln yn. this is my daughter, anya. say hi, bub."

"hi."

"jeon jungkook," he introduces, feeling rather self-conscious about his pyjamas and socks-with-slides combination. he nods towards anya with a small smile. "how old is she?"

"five, this year." you smooth down her hair with a palm. she watches bam sniff around the perimeter of the fence. "she'll be starting school here soon and she's been really excited. she's a bit of an artist, you see, and the school's renowned for its arts program."

"oh! you mean—?" he gestures down the road. you nod. he brightens. "my kid goes there, too! she's the same age as yours, but she's more interested in trying every single extracurricular sport they offer than anything they're actually famous for. my genes at work, i guess."

you smile, leaning against the doorway. you nod at the dobermann by the succulents. "and that one's yours, too, i'm guessing?"

"oh – yeah! that's bam." he turns. "bam, come here!"

he perks up, trotting over.

"sit."

he sits.

"good boy." jungkook scratches behind his ears. "i'll keep him inside the yard, so you don't have to worry about holes in your garden or anything."

you chuckle. "thanks. so, what's to like around here? in particular, anything a five-year-old would enjoy?"

"the park's a two-minute walk that way." he points behind him. "it's not that big, but it has a swing and a slide and a rope cobweb thing. there's a fireman pole, too.” he smiles. “i know it's bad enough trying to move when you're alone, so having a kid with you must be pretty rough."

you share a laugh. the girl pouts into your leg.

he tucks his knuckles into his sleeves, trying not to show how fast his heart is beating. "i could watch her while you get settled today. i-if you want! i'd bring my daughter over and they could, uh, keep each other busy."

he knows you're wary. he can see it in your eyes and the way you pull her into your side.

good. he would be, too.

"that would be wonderful," you say eventually with a small smile. "but it's quite early – i'll be here when you're, well, ready."

he glances down at himself and bursts into embarrassed flames. "ah, r-right! yeah! sure, yeah, i'll be back in an hour. it was nice meeting you," he smiles down at her, "and you as well, anya."

"you, too," you reply, and your grin makes jungkook's heart race. he wills his blush down.

"goodbye," calls anya, watching him retreat from their door. "i like your puppy!"

bam trots at jungkook's side, tongue lolling out and collar clinking. jungkook lets him into the backyard again, this time through the side door, and latches the door shut firmly after himself. he's got no idea how it came loose the first time; it might've been the wind rattling the latch.

he shrugs to himself as he returns to his kitchen. if it happens again, he'll get a proper lock.

"appa!"

she crashes into his knees. he hums and smooths down her fringe. "hello. i'm sorry for disappearing on you like that – i got worried about bam, and then i met our neighbours."

she recoils, betrayal etched all over her face. "without me?"

"i wasn't expecting to."

"but you did! you could've come tell me!" she stomps her foot, huffing. "i hate you."

"miri..."

she ignores him, stalking off to grab her stool and dropping it firmly in front of the kitchen sink. she puts her bowl inside silently and stomps past him to play with bam outside, and jungkook doesn't bother trying to get her to change out of her pyjamas.

he sighs in his empty kitchen, thunking his head backwards on his fridge. he draws a hand down his face and his mind whirls with a thousand thoughts a second, but it only sticks firmly to one.

his neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour. his unfortunately handsome neighbour with an amazing laugh and lightning-strike smile.

i'm fucked.

—

after a few days, a black labrador appears out the front of your yard, chasing a yellow rope bone that it brings back to anya. jungkook's walking bam, having just dropped miri off at school, and doesn't expect to have his arm yanked off by an overexcited pet.

"bam! what's gotten into you?" he struggles against the leash, acutely aware of the other dog on the other end of bam's attention. "calm – calm down."

bam stills, panting and alert as the black lab stares back, half-poised to drop the bone at anya's feet.

jungkook loosens the leash cutting into his hand, and it's the wrong decision. bam tears off towards the other dog.

jungkook swears as the leash slices out of his grip. he stumbles after him, dread and panic slurring together for a split second – but confusion cuts through the mess as the two dogs pause, watching each other very closely.

bam barks. the labrador glances back at the house, as if to check for permission—

and drops the toy in front of bam.

it lays down, placing its head on its paws, and gnaws at the end of the bone. every so often, it glances up at bam, blinking in that sweet puppy way.

bam lays down beside it, his flamingo-coloured leash trailing over his back. both dogs' tails wag in comfortable excitement.

"hi, miri's papa."

jungkook tears his stare off the dogs. "hey, anya. where's your dad?"

"inside."

"okay. thanks." he glances at the dogs; the toy is now in bam's jaws. "uh, are you cool with watching over him? i'll be quick."

she nods, full of purpose and determination. as he reaches for the door handle, however, she raises her voice with innocent curiosity:

"do you love papa?"

the door handle shears a layer of skin off his knuckles. he chuckles uneasily, clutching it. "what? no."

she tilts her head, playing with her laces. she did them herself this morning. "really?"

"o-of course. why would i love him? more importantly, why do you think that?"

she purses her lips as if it's obvious. "you look like you love papa."

he runs his thumb over the flap of skin. no blood, but it stings.

"you sound like you love papa."

he tilts his head. "what are you talking about?"

"you make faces and your voice gets all weird when you talk to him." she turns back to the dogs, stretching her stocking-clad legs out from her seat on the driveway. she yawns until her jaw cracks. "you're just like all the other ladies who love papa. but i don't think they like me." she glances up. "you're nicer than them."

"other ladies?" he whispers to himself with a frown. slowly, he returns to her, bobbing down to sit next to her. she stares up at him with big eyes, expectant. "anya, if i may... what happened to your mother? it's okay if you don't want to answer."

she shrugs, kicking her feet. "i don't know. i live with papa now. i like it better this way – he doesn't get angry at me like she did, and he makes better food." she rubs her nose. "they fought a lot before we moved. papa pretends like they didn't, but i know they did. i could hear them."

"yeah?" jungkook says quietly. "was that back in america?"

she nods, playing with the blades of grass. she peels them in half, drops them in a pile on the concrete, then picks another one and does the same. "mhm. they decided we'd live with papa."

"huh." he pauses and tilts his head. "wait, 'we'?"

"anya! dad's done, are you hungry?"

a girl leans out the front door. she's older, wearing braids, and her familiar eyes snap to jungkook's with abrupt alarm. she slips into the shoes by the door and hurries over, grabbing anya by the shoulder and pulling her away. "who are you?"

anya whines, wriggling out of her grip. "this is mister jungkook! he loves papa."

he stands too quickly; the older girl steps back. "no. no, i don't, anya. i'm just a friend – i live right there."

"uh-huh," says the older girl, putting anya's hand in her own. "let's go, okay? dad's waiting."

"papa made carrot cake," anya insists. "you should come!"

"you can't just invite strangers—"

"but papa knows him—"

"doesn't matter, i don't know him—"

a new voice, familiar and gentle. "girls, everything alright?"

jungkook turns with a leap of his heart. you wear jeans and a grey v-neck sweater rolled up at the sleeves to reveal the stiff cuffs of a white dress shirt. the collar pokes out over the sweater.

you're dressed like any other man on the street, some form of business casual, but jungkook's heart acts as if he's seen you naked. he'd love to. god, he'd love to. would you like him?

focus!

"good morning," he greets, dusting off his black joggers. "how goes things?"

you glance over him and he covers his bare biceps self-consciously. your lips quirk up. "hey, jungkook. things are great. i see you've met ellie."

"ellie," he repeats. he gives her a small, sheepish smile and offers a hand. "hi. i'm sorry for worrying you. maybe we can make amends?"

she glances down at his hand. her eyes flicker to you, and after receiving a certain look, she sighs and begrudgingly takes his hand, giving it a firmer-than-necessary shake. "yeah, sure. whatever."

she pulls anya into the house with her and you give her another look – this one meaning we'll talk later – before heading out to the driveway to speak with jungkook.

"i'm sorry about her," you huff. "twelve-year-olds..."

"don't worry about it. her heart's in the right place," jungkook hums, glancing up at you with a soft smile. his hands have taken much of his attention. "so, two?"

"yeah. she just arrived last night – i promise she isn't usually so grumpy." you jerk your head towards the house with a grin, hands in your pockets. "i heard them arguing about you. if you think my decision holds more weight than theirs, you're welcome to come in. i made carrot cake – my own personal recipe, tried-and-tested with the kids." you wink. "you know it's good when children willingly eat vegetables. any allergies?"

"i'd love to," he replies, his cheeks warmer than usual. "and no, i don't."

your smile widens, blindingly bright. you turn to the dogs and pat your thigh, reaching out for the labrador that trots over with an excited bounce. "you can bring bam in, too. they seem to get along – no reason to break them apart, right?"

"are you sure? bam's pretty easily excited, and he's a lot bigger than he thinks he is."

"hey." you take his hands, stopping him from picking obsessively at the cuticles. it's a bad habit he can't seem to shake. "we've had callus since he was ten weeks old. i know exactly what you're talking about, and my offer still stands."

"callus?" he asks, his brain too full of the thought of your warmth to do much else.

you roll your eyes fondly. "i hate the name, but ellie chose it and trained him to it, so it's stuck ever since. so – you coming in, or are you just gonna hold my hands for the next hour?"

"what?" he says. oh, fuck, you've loosened your grip but he hasn't. he's holding your hands. he's still holding them. he drops them. "a-ah, i'll come in!"

you laugh, and jungkook's heart squeezes tight in a red fist as he follows you to the front door. "alright, jungkook. don't tell the girls, but i'll give you a bigger piece of cake, okay? it'll be our secret."

"okay," jungkook breathes, and feels like a teenager all over again.

however, he might have forgotten to factor in the feelings of a certain five-year-old girl.

"you saw them again!"

"i know, i'm sorry," jungkook pleads, "but you were at school! hey, look, i even saved you some of yn's cake, alright? it's really good. he invited us – both of us – over to his place tomorrow. you can meet him and his daughters, and have a lunch better than i could ever make. how about it?"

miri pouts, kicking her feet on the couch. her schoolbag sits by the end of the sofa. "fine."

"oh, good," he sighs, relieved.

"but," she raises a finger, "you can't fall in love with him."

he whips around faster than light. "you, too? why am i not allowed to?"

"you're not allowed to be his wife."

"i'm a man, miri. it doesn't work like that."

"yes, it does."

"it doesn't."

"it does," she insists, "ellie said—!"

she slaps a hand over her mouth and falls backwards on the sofa.

jungkook pauses, his hands hovering over a cucumber on the chopping board. very carefully, he continues slicing long ovals out of it. he asks calmly, "have you met each other before?"

"no." she sits up, long black hair falling over her shoulders. "only to play with the dogs..."

"then you shouldn't be so upset that i did the same thing, right? does yn know you played with his daughters?"

miri, with as much gravitas as a five-year-old can muster, replies: "no."

he shakes his head with a huff of laughter, using the back of the knife to scrape the cucumber in a container. "alright. is that where you found this rumour? did they tell you?"

"appa, it's not a rumour if it's true," she argues, rising to her feet on the sofa. she leans forward against the backrest. "i've seen it with my own eyes! you talk about him like – like – not a friend! i never saw you talk about anybody else that way."

"uh-huh. and what do you know about being in love, miri? what does ellie know? she's twelve, and you've only just learnt how to tie your hair in a ponytail. very messily. no standing on the couch."

she falls back behind the edge of the backrest with a huff, vanishing from jungkook's sight. "you'd be a bad wife."

he carves the store-bought roast chicken, sawing through the thighs and shaving smaller slices off the body. he digs through the breast to stab at the herbed stuffing. a lock of hair falls loose from his low ponytail and he tosses his head to get it out of his eyes. "do i dare ask why?"

he's terribly competitive – whether it's a good or bad trait, he doesn't know. while he may never be a wife, being called bad at something – by his own blood, no less! – sets fire to something he tried to bury back in university.

"because you're mean and not funny and never wake up before twelve o'clock."

he gapes, putting down his serrated knife to scoff at the couch. "i am funny, thank you very much. why should you never eat a clock?"

"um, because it's made of metal and plastic?" miri answers.

"it's time-consuming," he snickers.

her head pops up over the backrest, pinched into a frown. "that isn't funny, appa."

"you don't appreciate my effort, miri. i'm hurt."

"you know who would, though?" her gaze intensifies. she points through the walls to the house to their left with the neat lawn. "he would. which makes it even worse, because then you'll love each other, and then i'll have to hear two bad jokes instead of one. it'll be in – in – insuff'rable. i learnt that word today, did you know?"

"it's 'insufferable', miri."

"you proved it! you're mean. anyway, ellie said she'd hate it if you and her appa got together."

out of protectiveness? or something learnt and cruel?

miri disappears behind the sofa again only to reappear beside it, moving towards the kitchen and leaning against jungkook's left leg.

"appa, it smells really good."

jungkook grabs a set of chopsticks and hooks out a chunk of meat. he crouches and offers the meat, holding a hand beneath her small chin to catch anything that doesn't make it to home base. nothing falls, and he draws away.

"here," jungkook murmurs. "can you set the table, please?"

"mhm."

she skips off with the cutlery in hand. jungkook carries the large bowl with the carcass and places it in the middle of the dining table, petting miri's hair on the way back to the kitchen.

he's always worried about how others perceive him. always. he's twenty-five with a school-aged kid and no mother in sight, and he makes fucking video games for a living – he's not even something respectable, like a doctor. at the very least, he could've been a nine-to-fiver, a suit amongst identical suits, and with that, his image would be inoffensive.

but video games? being a concept artist, an animator? for even a big triple-a kind of company, it's not a great reputation to kick off with: he draws colourful lines and makes things move. even though he earns a salary comfortable enough to keep his little family afloat, his name is one of hundreds as an optional post-credits roll, and it's not on the first page.

still, the way you beamed at his mumbled description of his job... it made things a little lighter to bear.

"come eat up, bub," he says. "maybe you'll entertain the idea of my future marriage once you realise how boring my dinners are."

—

pacific rim rumbles through the sound system. rather surprisingly, neither of the five-year-olds mind its big, scary battles. jungkook chalks up miri's fascination with the robots and monsters with a general nonchalance towards violence and gore. she watched train to busan when she was three – which was not jungkook's fault; she wasn't supposed to be awake and sitting spookily in the darkness on the stairs – and shrugged off most of the blood and guts as simply fake.

he should have been paying more attention to his surroundings than his laptop screen and the accident he'd sired in motionbuilder, he realises now, but a good consequence is that miri avoids frozen and its brethren like the plague. he doesn't think he'll be able to keep his sanity if he hears any movie three times consecutively.

ellie plays animal crossing on the switch, cross-legged between you and jungkook with her head against your shoulder. a leopard-print blanket wraps around her shoulders and pools in her lap. every time something explodes or crashes, she glances up, fixated for a moment, before returning to her village.

miri and anya are fast asleep on jungkook's thigh. another blanket, this one blue with thin pink stripes, covers them both, and jungkook's arm lays gently across their shoulders. he'd turned the volume right down for them and the two dogs cuddling in the labrador's bed, though his 5.1.4 speaker setup retains enough boom in the subwoofer to keep him immersed.

eventually, ellie's body droops, and the switch falls from her hands into her lap as her hair flops across her face. three quarters into the movie, you gently take her into your arms and tuck her into bed, and jungkook watches over the remaining two, tucking a silky lock of hair behind miri's ear. his leg is going numb and the tingling is growing uncomfortable, but he'll be damned if he wakes them.

you return. there's a pop-art picture of a sea dragon made of sushi on your shirt, and jungkook smiles at the sight. you slip your arms beneath anya's body and she shivers as the blanket slips off, curling deeper into your chest.

"today's been tiring for them all," you murmur as jungkook scoops miri up in the blanket. "they'll be knocked clear out until tomorrow."

the two will share a bed for the night, and they'd been gleefully planning their sleepover itinerary the entire day, whispering to each other about staying up past their bedtimes to chat about everything. you press a kiss to anya's forehead, brushing her hair off her cheek, and jungkook tucks miri's wrapped-up body beneath the duvet.

you shut the door with a quiet click. it feels final, as if you've signed a legal form, and when your gaze flickers over to jungkook, you find him already staring back with an unreadable expression, a mess of emotions warring over his doe-like features. it smooths over a split second after your eyes meet.

you tilt your head towards the kitchen with a smile. "still awake? i can break out some bourbon. i also have some red wine, if that's more your style."

"i'll take the wine, if it's not too much trouble," he replies softly. "i've already had a drink tonight and i have work in the morning."

"of course." with the girls asleep, you're free to do as you wish. you take his hand in your own, and his breath hitches. your thumb brushes over his jawline. "i'll steal a glass as well."

jungkook likes to pretend he has everything under control. his heart, however, is under a different jurisdiction, and you prod it with your smile and warm touch until it quivers, naked and bare.

then, you are gone. his pulse pounds hotly in his ears as he shuffles after you, almost afraid of what he might spill under the wine.

he'll only have a glass, he promises himself. nothing will come of it.

"i wanted to tell you this before, but we had company. your pyjamas are cute," you tell him as you set down his glass, holding the newly-opened wine bottle in the other hand. you gesture to his inked arms. "and those are gorgeous."

"thank you," he murmurs, taking the stem between his fingers. he rubs his thumb over the swell of the glass and tucks his feet behind the barstool's legs. "you ever looking to get something done?"

a smile tugs at your lips. "i already have."

his eyes widen behind the glass. he sets it down, trying to keep his prying gaze discreet. "really? what of?"

"it's here."

to his scandalised pleasure, you grab your shirt and the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them apart to reveal a curved tattoo along your hipbone. his starved gaze roams the exposed skin, the sliver of stomach and the dangerously-low slant of your pants.

he burns with painful desire. it stings at the back of his eyes, and his back teeth grind down on nothing as he swallows harshly, lifting a hand casually to his face to hide it.

"'s pretty," he rasps, clearing his throat. his knuckles whiten around the wine glass. "when did you get it?"

"as soon as i was old enough. i was always a romantic, you see," you joke, letting go of your clothes. they fall back into place and he mourns the loss. at least he has a new fantasy to bookmark. "i thought it was cute, and she liked it, so i kept it."

she.

jungkook's heart tumbles to the pit of his stomach at the reminder of what he is – and what he isn't. he chugs the wine and chases the buzz of intoxication.

"you don't... really talk about before," he says quietly. "i-i mean, it's personal, why would you? we met last month—"

"it's been the best month of the last few years," you interrupt, filling his glass again. you reach up to bring down one for yourself and he leans forward, his mouth dry as he catches a slit of skin as your shirt rides up.

it's almost funny how desperate he is.

"y-yeah?"

"yeah." you set the glass on the bench, opposite jungkook. you reach for his hand and he watches with bated breath as you link your fingers lazily with his. "moving has always been a hard experience, especially with those two troublemakers to keep an eye on, and you've been amazing to me – to us – all this time. jungkook, you made it easy to fall into a routine i enjoy."

"oh." he grips your fingers. "so... her, huh? are the kids hers?"

"yep."

"were you ever married?"

"for a while."

it pops out before he can stop it. "what happened?"

"okay..." you offer him a tight smile, unlinking your fingers to fill your glass higher than it's supposed to be.

last page, the end. that part of you will not be touched again.

"i'm sorry, yn-ssi—"

"'hyung'," you interrupt. "you can call me 'hyung', jungkook. our dogs are in love – i'd like to think we're closer than those formalities."

he nods, a little uncertain. it shows in his eyes, flitting about your kitchen as if searching for the nearest door. "if you think so, hyung."

you smile, and this one is looser, easy to enjoy. "better. what about you – would you ever think of finding someone?"

he laughs breathily, briefly pressing the back of his thumb to his lower lip. "ah, well. you know how it is. i've got miri to worry about."

"and a girlfriend wouldn't adore her, too? that spells trouble."

his mouth twitches in some semblance of a smile, small and wry. "i hear that's your biggest problem. anya mentioned that you're pretty popular, but that she's a deterrent."

you sigh, rounding the bench and taking a seat near him at the dining table. you rest an arm over the back of the chair. "what can you do, right? there's nothing to be done except wait and hope that the perfect one will come along sooner or later. other friends always tell me that i don't need anyone, that i'm doing really well."

you rub the back of your neck, and jungkook follows the tendons leading down past your collar. you smile up at him, warmer than usual. "but i've always been selfish."

"it wouldn't only be a girlfriend," jungkook says suddenly. he grabs the bottle of wine and tops up his glass far more than a single standard drink. "i'm, uh, you know... kind of into everyone. but i'm loyal. if there's one thing that i am, that's it."

"would you like to go on record with that for the company's diversity initiative?"

he turns, and you grin a little dorkily back at him, a wine-touched buzz in your veins. he rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh, raising his glass. "sure, if it gets me someone nice to talk to. fuck, i can't remember the last time i just... went to a bar and didn't give a shit. let loose." he sighs. "i was terrible in university – god, it physically pains me. i've known miri since she was a baby, but sometimes i wonder if she was the only one, you know?"

you reach out and push his thigh with a chuckle. "hey, no frowning; it's bad for your skin. it's not good to dwell on possibles, jungkook. you have miri. you have me. those are certainties. agonising over what might be does nothing for anyone."

as he turns on the stool, his tongue runs over his lower lip. he grips the seat between his thighs, one knee bouncing. "but what if—"

"jungkook, the more you stress over it, the less you're present with miri. she's a sweet girl – please don't neglect her for uncertainties."

your hands cup his, reassuring and warm, as you pull your chair in. his head bobs in a small, slow nod.

"i guess you're right," he mumbles. "hey, hyung... were you always a chef?"

you laugh. "no. i had ellie when i was pretty young and i jumped from job to job for some time. i made decks for a while – carpentry. did other contract jobs. i only went to culinary school a few years ago when i had the funds for it."

"how did you know?" he asks softly. "how did you know it was all gonna be okay?"

you shrug. "i didn't. i just took it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time, and eventually, i got here." you rest your chin over his knuckles and hum, gazing up at him. "don't think. just do. you'll be alright, jungkook. my door is never closed to you, even if you just want to drink all my wine and eat all my cereal."

he laughs, barely more than a soft giggle. "thanks, hyung. that... actually made me feel better, weirdly enough."

"good. i don't like seeing you upset." you squeeze his hands. "you're looking rather pink. you should slow down with the wine."

he glances at his empty glass and the nearly-empty bottle. he can't remember drinking so much. his cheeks are hot. "yeah. yeah, i probably should." he begins to rise. "sorry for—"

your arms wrap firmly around his waist as he stumbles. he blinks harshly, his horizons tilting dangerously.

"did you spike that?" he jokes half-heartedly. "shit, i'm regressing to a lightweight..."

"you drank three-quarters of the bottle in the time it takes me to have a shower. that's called being an idiot, not a lightweight."

your palm cups his cheek. it's cool and soothing against jungkook's burning skin, and it burns hotter when he realises he can feel your heartbeat through his own ribs. his traitorous hands are already placed on your sides.

"we are... incredibly close right now," he whispers.

your eyes flicker down to his lips, pink and parted. "i don’t mind."

you take the point of his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up from his flushed downcast gaze. his hands hover over your ribs, his own cracking with the force of his heart, and he slides them over your chest to grasp the back of your neck, his thumbs stroking the slope of your jawline.

"jungkook," you murmur against his warm lips, "we should do this tomorrow. when your mind's clearer."

"tomorrow i might not do anything. i'm a coward, hyung. please... just once? so i can remember what it's like?"

he leans in again, and you don't stop him. his lips mould with yours, the sweet, dark flavour zinged with a slight bitterness. he hums softly as your arms tighten around his slender waist.

when you finally part, you're both gasping for air, and jungkook offers a giddy smile.

"man," he pants, "that's a lot more fun than i remember."

"i think you just have to find the right person to do it with." you laugh quietly and he drops his head onto your shoulder, hiding his blush.

"would you be mine?" he asks, allowing a fleck of hope to plague his voice. "would you be my boyfriend, yn-hyung?"

you brush a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "ask me again tomorrow. i want to be sure you'll remember what you've done – it'd be pretty awkward if you forgot and i came up and kissed you."

he huffs. "i'm not that drunk – look, i'm a little tipsy. maybe a bit more than tipsy. whatever the case, i'm not gonna forget this." he runs his tongue over his lower lip slowly, as if to savour something. "i'll ask again in the morning – with one condition."

you tilt your head, eyes gentle. "and what might that be?"

"a goodnight kiss. doesn't have to be on the lips, but it would be nice—"

you shut him up. he melts into it, tilting his head to deepen it, and he presses his whole body into yours, as if he can open up your skin and step inside, as close as close allows.

here is someone who understands him – here is his heart, here are his lungs, here is the flesh and bone that forms love. he loves love, and the carrot cake that love cuts for him, and the peaceful sleeping puppies resting their heads on each others' backs in love's living room.

he kisses you again, and his touch is the blinding supernova of a promise.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x male reader #jeon jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #bts x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #m!reader #i want so badly to watch tlou if u cant tell #bonus points if you can tell who the 5yos are named after #1k event

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daruee · 1 month

Text

Lend Me Some Sugar, I am Your Neighbor

The lack of excitement all over my face was so visible.

Being forced to spend a month out of my summer with my grandparents in the south wasn't my idea of a good time nor was it on my summer bucket list, didn't matter now though I was here and just counting the days like some prisoner.

There wasn't much to do but lounge really, so that's what I did for a sizeable chunk of my day. Sitting on the porch painting my nails, reading, or listening to music as I try to occupy my hands with drawing was what I did for most of the day.

Halfway through my near prison experience I was sitting on the porch one day with my feet up trying to kill time by reading when I heard someone's heavy footsteps moving up the stairs when I lowered my book and my eyes locked with sexiest man I'd seen in so long. His appearance was enough to remind me of how visually starved and unstimulated I'd been. Would it be too much to want to be bent over by him already...

maybe

Didn't matter much, he walked right inside to talk to my grandparents wondering if they'd like to come by to his farm and pick some fruit or get it by order. I walked in just trying to get a better listen and to sneak more glances at him, my grandmother was about to hand him a list of what they'd like and pay him before I had a fabulous idea.

"I could pick some myself and bring them here guys no need to put in an order and deal with those pesky fees."

It was that easy.

Now I was on my way to his farm the next day with a basket ready to see how much trouble I could get myself into. I decorated myslef in dewy makeup, a black gingham dress, and some leather mary janes and pretty white socks that carried that innocent ruffle around their trim.

Truely how could I not want to impress that satyr, I just knew he'd enjoy a little nymph like me. I saw in his eyes during that interaction from the other day that though he didn't say anything directly he could turn me everyway but loose if he wanted to.

I got there and I was the only one, he seemed to have just come back from delivering to others since he was unloading crates from his truck which made sense. Most of the people living out here were older. I waved, he smiled tipped his hat and walked over.

"Never seen a kid volunteer to come pick fruit it's usually a chore, what's your name again?"

I chuckled and engaged in the small talk with him, he decided to help me out and navigating the fields since he could tell I wasn't from here and never actually went through a farm. Also walking through it alone would be just plain lonely!

I asked him a bunch of questions but he didn't seem to mind, nor did he mind getting close to explain them to me. I had to fight off the urge to shiver as his words trickled into my ear, I stepped back so that our bodies could touch, I wasn't trying to miss an oppurtonity here and I wanted him to know I liked him. He was a great help and let me pick out the ripest and biggest fruits I had plenty of berries but asked him to show me over to the apple trees. Usually it seemed like they'd be picked already and put in crates for the choosing but he'd just delivered a bunch so they were empty.

"guess you'll just have to mosey on up that ladder and grab a few 'yerself don't worry I can hold it for ya"

I nodded and agreed, it wasn't a big deal just picking a few apples. When I had palmed about four I was looking for one more so I could climb down and call it a day, little did I know he was only so okay with me taking my time because he was looking up my dress all the while, he did do his part and helped me down once I was finished. By this time I was parched and happy to go along with his plan to just drink some iced tea on his porch. We talked a little more, his hand made friends with my thigh, his rough hands felt so good on my skin.

"Are ya still thirsty? I mean I have something else you could drink, really tasty and good for ya it's in the barn though. 'Ya wouldn't mind headin there with me to taste some, I value the opinions of little ladies like you."

He was saying all the right things and I told him I loved trying new things so what was there to say no to. His barn was really clean and there wasn't much to it, he made me stand in the middle and started kissing my neck, it gradually turned it to bites that I had to yelp to get him to stop only for him to do it again but harder. While that was happening he was lifting up my dress and eventually thew it to the side as he stated,

"it's hot today anyway ya don'y need all those clothes on, it's just me"

I had no urge to stop him, I liked everything he was doing, how he kept making me feel small made me never want to let go yet now I was quickly dragged down from the clouds as he forced me on my knees. I was shocked and couldn't help but pout. He got out a glass bottle of milk and brought it over to me, hands on my chin as he held it above my head to make sure I was watching.

"I was thinkin you should get a taste of this and...maybe I can fill it with something else for you."

He smirked and unscrewed the top and ran it under my nose allowing the fresh and neutral scent to hit me, he held it up to my lips and let me drink a few sips from it, when he asked if it taste good I shook my head eagerly and licked my lips. He was messing with me and drawing things out to far, before I knew it he was dropping it over my face and watching it trickle down my tits down to my legs. when I let out a gasp for air my eyes shot open to the sensation of his hard cock thrusting into it. He poured some into my mouth so that i could taste the milk all mixed in with his precum before pouring the rest on my body again.

That wasn't enough as he dragged me up by the arm and pushed me onto some hay and spreading my legs open about to let himself in my pussy he grabed one of my pigtails and spoke into my ear,

"I'm gonna fuck you right here doll, use you all up for sure, but I didn't lie I'm gonna see how many times I can cum into that bottle there and let you drink it all up for me"

I was panting, wet with milk, and uncomfortable with all this hay sticking to me so I did what I do best.

I can take it daddy.

#smut #dumb slvt #daddy's good girl #bd/sm kink #rough cnc #cnc k!nk #breeding toy #bimboification #ddlgbabygirl #girlblogging #what more could you want #farmcore #country life #break me

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gothy-froggy · 7 months

Text

Buggy as a cat headcanons

Hey! This is a huge inspiration from a tumblr post by d1ner! I made a small drawing before this post! (Got lazy to add the makeup and finish the ears lmao)

Warnings: very adorable, slight angst, Buggy being a little menace

———————————

Appearance

Buggy is a fluffy cat. So fluffy he’s called the fluffer. He’s so soft too. He still has his nose because let’s be real, is it really Buggy the clown without his iconic nose? Right, didn’t this so.

His fur color is the shade of his hair as a human. And as for his patterns, Buggy has the clown makeup on his face. But the bones are on his back. He has the flash eyelashes as fur patterns as well. Just a cute little blue clown cat with an adorable big red clown nose! I like to believe Buggy has cute little white socks on his paws.

As for eyes, I’m debating whether or not his eyes should be blue or a darker color. Buggy would be very cute with some dark brown eyes just staring at you, begging for food or some pets. But I can also see some shade of blue that’s different from the fur and turns blue & green at times.

Behavior

He’s just a very touch starved and talkative version of my cat. Literally just my cat Eli. Very mischievous and loves to play around. By playing around, I mean he hides under table and beds just to sprint out, pounce on your legs and bites as hard as he can before quickly going back to his hiding place.

Yes, that is what my cat does.

Buggy is a complicated, unpredictable and sneaky cat. Despite his bright colors, you somehow miss him all the time. He slips into doors he’s not supposed to be in, letting you hold him before biting your hand as hard as he can, so many things.

He’s such a troublemaker but he’s just too cute to fully get mad at him. He gets breaks something that means a lot to you, but he’s so cute that you just pick him up and tell him it’s ok and that’s he’s your cute little clown baby.

He pretends that he doesn’t like head pats and ruffles, but Buggy will put his paws on his human’s hand and forces it back down. And if his human walks away from their cuddling section, he’s very pouty and upset. He will throw up a hairball because you left him. He will. Don’t test him.

Very easily jealous. There’s a cat coming up to his human? He’s hissing and starting fights. A dog small or big? Big or small? Don’t care. He’s jumping up and smacking them right in the face. Then he rubs up on his owner and licks his human. Buggy definitely uses his ability to get a few hits on the animal he’s jealous of.

Likes

Buggy is one of those cats that enjoy the (fake) skin routine care with his human. He loves baths as well. Just not sea water. Don’t hurt the poor clown kitty! Buggy jumps in the bathtub and swims around while his human is bathing.

You know that one cat that holds a really long meow for food? That’s Buggy. He’s holding that meow like he’s singing for an opera. He wants his food! He’s making trip with how close he is near your feet.

Please give him his treats. He’s giving you such cute eyes…please give the clown kitty treats. Give him extra! So what if he terrorizes you all the time? He’s so cute!

Dislikes

Don’t ignore him. Don’t you dare ignore him. Keep your eyes on him. Buggy wants all of your attention. You’re taking care of him, just give him a bit more attention, please?

Oh you’re giving your attention to someone else? HOW DARE YOU? Fine! Why not just keep the thing that has your attention as a pet instead? He’s dragging himself around the house, stomping his paws around. He’s upset. Buggy deserves ALL of your attention, dammit!

What’s this? YOU’RE LEAVING HIM ALONE IN A ROOM? ALL BY HIMSELF? Oh he’s just like my cat. Buggy is yelling SO much. He ain’t stopping either. He needs to be with you 24/7. Buggy is meowing nonstop for hours.

He doesn’t like it when you stop being all cuddly and sweet with him after he acts like he hates it. He’s sad and he head butts his human for more. He will lay on top of you and force you to pet him. He’ll purposefully scratches things while staring into your soul because you won’t pet him.

Zoomies

He’s a goddamn gremlin. Buggy is stomping around, running so fast while his tail is between his legs. He’s making noises like a race car while jumping, flipping in the air, circling on carpet and sliding on hardwood.

The slightest movement from you will make him run and jump straight at you. He’s insane during zoomies. Best to leave a bunch of toys out and keep a water gun with sea salt to shoot him with as you try to stay in a Buggy-free room. Trust me, it’s for your own safety and sanity.

(We have water guns for my cat as well. He does exactly this but the race car nosies)

How he met his human

Buggy was abandoned. He was filthy and left on the streets to live or die. It was a rainy evening as the sun was about to start setting. Buggy was at the edge of the sidewalk as the rain was hitting his head. He wasn’t annoyed by it, but he looked so sad and looked like he was about to cry.

Then a human looked at him, trying to get closer and started talking to him. Out of fear, he ran and hid under between garbage cans. When the human followed him, he hissed. He was scared, only just a little baby kitty.

When the human left, he went back to just watching the rain, trying to stay warm. But then the human came back. Buggy arched his cat and started to hiss…until he was the food in the human’s hand.

After some hesitation, he started to eat the food. He was pretty hungry. Buggy struggled to eat the food a little bit since he was so small. Eventually he trusted the human enough to let them pick him up.

“Aren’t you a strange kitty?” Buggy just stared at the human, letting out a cute little meow, melting the human’s heart instantly. He was cold, shivering and still hungry.

Once at the human’s house, they fed him and took him into a bathroom to clean him off. He was pretty dirty. Being wrapped up in a towel, he kept meowing, staring at the human. Them baby talking him and pressing a little kiss on his nose, he started to warm up a little bit more.

He explored his new house, loving the fireplace and the heat that came from the fire. Buggy meowed loudly and ran up his human’s leg when they showed him his clean red striped bandanna, putting it back on.

(He also loves dress up)

Buggy grew very close, but now is very clingy and hates being left alone with the fear of abandonment still affects him. He doesn’t want to left alone again. Even though he’s been with the human for a long time, the abandonment is still there.

But one night by the fireplace with a cozy blanket in his human’s lap, his human rubs his face. And Buggy realizes that he really has found his human and no longer has to worry about being left behind, closing his eyes and falling to sleep.

———————————

A cute little headcanon for my dear friend @raven-the-cryptid <3

#fan fic writing #buggy the flashy fool #one piece buggy #buggy d clown x reader #cat au #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #x reader #buggy x reader #kitty!buggy

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this site but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more.

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high.

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold.

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends.

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick.

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you.

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it.

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it.

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line.

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away.

“You’re not losing it,” he says.

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost.

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here.

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…”

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking.

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis.

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur.

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died.

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case.

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air.

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you.

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen.

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally.

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right.

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t.

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall.

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly.

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive.

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening.

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you.

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tried to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway.

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.”

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!”

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head.

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’”

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute.

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month.

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible.

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day.

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest.

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk.

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room.

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe.

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on.

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often.

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you.

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t.

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in.

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room.

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor.

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there.

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe.

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then.

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it.

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream.

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again.

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Better,” you admit.

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them.

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms.

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him.

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route.

You pull out your phone and text Dick.

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage

You: you’re the best

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text.

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder.

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text.

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it?

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest.

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either.

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call.

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.”

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you.

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not.

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think.

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time.

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice.

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.”

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there.

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing.

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids.

And then he disappears.

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you?

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him.

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.”

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue Nightwing suit.

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner.

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed.

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally.

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner. You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction.

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you.

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick.

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side.

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenched his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of jewels. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over.

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up.

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the bank saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt everytime he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not.

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit.

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest.

“I—what’s going on?” You ask.

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes.

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is running across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor.

“How did you know I was here?” He asks.

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.”

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper.

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you.

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick awkwardly says, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

#wally west #wally west x reader #wally west x you #wally x reader #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash x you #young justice #young Justice x reader #young Justice x you #the flash #dick grayson

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