Tumgik
#but his hands! they're restless!!!
hopemikaelsongf · 2 years
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#daemon being totally normal about it 
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definitely not itching to use this on anything other than the food <333
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON | S1E05
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rosehathawhey · 2 months
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Summance + Casual Touch
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ikarakie · 1 year
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after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.
he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")
"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.
"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."
none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.
dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.
the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.
"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.
"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.
"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.
"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."
the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.
steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.
"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.
"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)
"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"
eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.
"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.
"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.
eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.
he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.
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the violence of the dog days.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.
OR
you're hot and horny for jeongguk.
rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)
genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp
word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.
warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).
author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.
You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.
The heat.
With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.
But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.
Perhaps you are, you think.
Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.
With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.
“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.
A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.
The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.
You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.
All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.
Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.
You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...
He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.
You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.
It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.
The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.
For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.
The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.
Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.
Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.
You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.
“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”
“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.
“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.
Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.
Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.
“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.
“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.
“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.
“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”
“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”
You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.
“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”
This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.
“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.
Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.
God, what is wrong with you tonight?
You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.
Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.
A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.
He feels his dick stir at the sight.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.
“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.
“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.
“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.
“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”
A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.
You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.
“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”
You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.
He always does.
“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.
You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.
“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.
“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.
You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”
You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.
He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.
“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.
“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.
You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”
Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.
The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.
“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”
“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.
“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.
You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.
“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.
“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.
You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.
It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.
Your body practically hums at the thought.
You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.
Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.
When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.
It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.
You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.
You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.
“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.
But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.
“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.
But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.
So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”
“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.
“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”
Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.
You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.
But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.
A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.
“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.
“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”
His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.
“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”
And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.
It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.
“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.
Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.
“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.
You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.
Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.
You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.
At least, not until now.
So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.
“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.
With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.
Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.
When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.
Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.
You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.
Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”
Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.
You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.
Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.
He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.
You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.
Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.
How did you ever get this lucky?
“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.
Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.
The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”
Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.
You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.
“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.
A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.
You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.
Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.
Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”
You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.
But Jeongguk's not having any of that.
He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.
You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.
Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.
“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.
He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.
With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.
You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.
But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”
And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.
He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.
“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.
But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.
He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.
Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.
“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.
With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.
He doesn't put it in though.
First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.
“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.
He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.
“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.
“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.
“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.
You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.
“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.
“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.
“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”
Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.
“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”
“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”
You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.
Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”
Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.
Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.
“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.
The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.
Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.
“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.
You really are going to be the death of him.
He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.
His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.
“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.
“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.
It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.
“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.
“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.
You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.
Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.
Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.
He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.
The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.
By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.
Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.
“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.
“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.
“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.
As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”
He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.
You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.
“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.
In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.
Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.
“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.
“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”
Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.
And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.
You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”
And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.
One that dresses all your bruises.
It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.
But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.
Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.
The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.
The spare toothbrush at his place.
The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.
Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.
You never want to let him go.
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konigsblog · 3 months
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cw: recording
your two neighbours, soap and price, fighting for you.
of course, price is older and more mature. he has more experience in life, and can hold back his anger more. on the other hand, soap is more lively, you're more likely to have fun with johnny rather than john as he'll actually adventure out of his comfort zone, fuck you when he's mad and give you some experience with a rough, restless man.
price doesn't even view him as a man though; he's ‘too immature’. they're both rivals for your love, desperate to prove themselves to you in the hopes you'll choose them over the other.
while johnny has a view of your bedroom, watching the way you finger and fuck yourself down onto dildos, price has a view of your bathroom, watching soap run down your tits, covered in the foamy bubbles. they might even share these photos and videos of them perving on you with eachother, ignoring their rivalry just for more porn material.
soap makes an effort to come over to yours, have the occasional hookup and send you dick pics with the caption being about you. sometimes a video, with his grunting in the background, his hard cock twitching in his hand. but, price provides something johnny doesn't; aftercare. johnny fucks and leaves, while price takes his sweet time working you and watching you come undone on his fingers before easing inside. he's gentle, tender — it's lovemaking rather than a quick fuck... he hears you beg for an orgasm, for his cum, for his babies..
and when johnny gets sent the recording of this, he can't help but feel bitter and envious. grinding his teeth together and jerking off to the video, using it as material to jerk himself off. listening to the way you cry out ‘john’ over and over again, only making him hotter and even harder and the thought of being in price's position, fucking that pussy and being begged with. :3
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yawnderu · 3 months
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I love bimbo reader! It’s definitely my new favorite! I know you mentioned it before but how would Simon react to nipple piercings? Just asking for a friend…🫢
As someone with nipple piercings, these mfs HURT the first week, so let's assume she got them pierced while he was deployed and it's been 2 weeks since they're still sensitive but don't hurt HJBEFJHBEFJHB
>Simon's reaction to bimbo!reader getting her nipples pierced💗
Simon knew something was wrong from the moment you saw him at the airport. There was no jumping in his arms, no hugging for minutes until he told you he's ready to go home and no bouncing on your heels subconsciously. Sure, you hugged him for a few seconds and were all giddy to see him again, kissing his knuckles and telling him how much you missed him, but where are his long hugs? Why aren't you clinging to him with arms and legs?
“Got a surprise for you, Si.” He was snapped out of his own head by your soft words, slight nervousness in your tone. Brown eyes look up at you with slight worry, thin eyebrows raising as he waits for you to break it to him.
He was expecting to hear bad news— not for you to lift your shirt and bra up, revealing the pretty jewelry adorning your nipples. He blinked a few times before giving you a small smile, hands immediately going to your waist to pull you closer to him, taking a better look at your piercings.
“You can't touch them much until they heal a bit more.” His excited smile doesn't falter for a second, too excited about the idea of getting to play with your sensitive, hard nipples, even if he has to be careful. He plants a small kiss between your tits, letting his face bury on the soft fat before looking up at you.
“That why you didn't jump on me at the airport?” It only takes a small hum of confirmation to ease his mind, his hand trailing up to your tit and feeling the fat, being careful not to touch your piercing. His tongue is gentle as he starts to circle your sensitive nipple, restless eyes finally closing when you don't push him away, starting to carefully suckle on your nipple, not bothered at all by the metal.
Bimbo!Reader Masterlist
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willowbelle · 26 days
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Open Flame
❤︎ portgas d ace x fem reader ❤︎
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
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cw: afab!reader, fem!reader, dom!ace, sub!reader, ace is a smug tease, kitchen sex, fingering, piv sex, bent-over-the-counter sex, cream pie, use of "good girl" , "baby" & "sweetheart"
summary: reader is a strawhat, reader has a crush on ace (don't we all?) they're the only ones up late at night in the kitchen >:), sex ensues, heat/flame innuendos duh, oh and Ace wears those slutty man plaid boxers (>ᴗ•) !
word count: ~4,000
tagging: @bby-deerling @maddddstuff @eelnoise @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @help-i-lost-my-sock
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Open Flame
Ace’s gaze was allconsuming. 
A spell-binding stare that, ironically, lit a flame within you that couldn’t be tamed.
Your captain’s brother was only supposed to have stayed with you all on The Sunny for a few days, but, before long, days melted into weeks, and Ace had effortlessly ingrained himself, finding a home not just within the confines of the ship, but also within the recesses of your mind.
Ever since his first day with your crew, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed at night, consumed by visions of Fire Fist Ace; his toned figure, his freckled skin, his dark, shaggy hair.
Each toss and turn was a desperate attempt to escape the relentless grip of your infatuation, but his image persisted, vivid and unyielding.
Oh, it was futile. The more you tried to push him from your thoughts, the more he consumed them. His presence lingered, something intoxicating, relentless, enveloping you in a haze of longing and allconsuming desire.
------
You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to find solace in sleep, but your mind races on, conjuring fantasies of those stolen glances, those tan, freckled cheeks. Each scenario plays out in intricate detail, taunting you with the tantalizing possibility of something more.
You release a weighted sigh, your gaze still fixed on the unchanging ceiling. Sleep feels impossible now, so you give in to your insomnia, gently shedding the covers from your body and rising upright.
------
In the depths of the ship's night, you silently slip out of your bunk, navigating the narrow corridors with practiced ease. The Sunny creaks and groans softly around you, its familiar sounds a comforting backdrop to your nocturnal wanderings.
The floorboards creak faintly beneath your weight as you pad through the dimly lit hallway, guided only by the pale moonlight filtering through the fluttering curtains.
A gentle sea breeze whispers through the open window, carrying with it the scent of night blooms and sea salt. As you descend the stairs, your footsteps echo softly against the wooden steps, breaking the stillness of the night.
Entering the kitchen, you flick on the overhead light, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. The room seems to welcome your presence, the comforting hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock offering solace in the solitude of the night.
You move with quiet purpose, your movements fluid and unhurried as you prepare a cup of tea, the gentle clink of porcelain against porcelain punctuating the silence. The rhythmic motion of stirring soothes your restless mind, easing the knots of tension that had taken root within you. 
As you stir the spoon through the steaming liquid, Ace's presence solidifies in your thoughts, his grip on your mind unyielding. There's no escaping his hold, so you allow him to take you, drifting deeper into your imagination. You envision the sensation of drawing him near, tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The thought lingers: would his abilities render his flesh hot to the touch?
Lost in your daydreaming, your senses are momentarily dulled. The rhythmic stirring of your tea slows as you continue to drift in the cocoon of your thoughts, imagining scenarios that seem both tantalizingly real and impossibly distant.
Ace’s lips on your neck, his strong hands around your waist, melting you. 
And then, like a sudden gust of something unexpected, the sound of footsteps shatters the tranquility of your fantasies.  Your heart skips a beat as you raise your head, finding yourself face to face with the object of your affection.
Ace stands in the doorway, his presence filling the room with an intensity that leaves you breathless. 
He has’t noticed me, yet, thank god. 
Unaware of your presence, he remains oblivious, his attention consumed by the remnants of sleep lingering in his eyes. With a lazy yawn and a gentle rub of his eyes, he remains lost in the haze between wakefulness and sleep.
He stands before you, casually shirtless, as he usually is, yet there's something distinctly different about this moment. His chest is bare and his torso is exposed, the warm light of the kitchen accentuating the contours of his chest and the play of shadows across his skin.
Beneath the soft glow, his feet are bare, too, adding to the casual allure of his presence. The only garment adorning him is a pair of loose-fitting red plaid boxers, hanging effortlessly from his sculpted hips
The warm glow of the kitchen lights cascades softly over Ace's toned body, each gentle beam of light dances delicately across his features, accentuating the subtle contours of his handsome, freckled face. As he steps further into the room, the light caresses his golden skin, highlighting the delicate sprinkling of freckles that adorn his cheeks and nose, a testament to the countless hours spent basking in the sun's embrace.
And suddenly, to your dismay, his eyes, dark and enigmatic, lock onto yours, and for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still.
A weary grin creeps onto his face as he senses comfort in your company.
"Trouble sleeping, too?" the timbre of his voice is soft and raspy, colored by the remnants of sleep. As he speaks, he ambles towards the fridge, effortlessly navigating the kitchen space. With a fluid motion, he swings the refrigerator door open, stealing a quick glance in your direction as he begins to sift through its contents, awaiting your response.
“Uh, yeah,” you chuckle softly, stumbling over your words. Surely, you were dreaming. You rub your eyes a few times to dispel the remnants of sleep, however, when you open them again, Ace is still there. 
"The waves seem rougher tonight, huh?" Ace mumbles between mouthfuls of food, his attention divided between his meal and the remaining contents of the fridge.
“They do, yeah,” you offer a soft smile, “But I can rarely get to sleep,” you admit, taking a sip from your mug of tea. 
"Oh, really?" Ace's inquiry pulls your attention away from your tea, his sudden gaze meeting yours as he lifts his head from the fridge for the first time. “Why’s that?”
A rush of heat floods your cheeks at the direct eye contact, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily.
"Just... can't stop thinking," you admit softly, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.
"Hmm," Ace acknowledges with a thoughtful hum before swallowing. "Same here," he adds, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability.
Your curiosity piqued, you lean in slightly, intrigued by his response. "What's been on your mind, Ace?" you ask, voice laced with genuine interest.
Ace hesitates for a moment, glancing around the kitchen before shrugging nonchalantly,
 "You.”
Ace's unexpected confession courses through your veins and renders you speechless. Your heart flutters erratically in your chest, and you struggle to maintain composure under the weight of his words that hang heavily between the two of you. 
It was disarmingly casual, refreshingly honest. Not a rehearsed performance, starkly contrasting the countless nights you spent rehearsing confessions in front of the mirror. You can;t help but envy his effortless sincerity.
His gaze remains fixed on yours, unwavering and intense as he straightens up, closing the fridge.
He slowly makes his way towards you, making your breath hitch in your throat. You swallow dryly as he draws near, and with a gentle yet purposeful motion, he reaches out and takes the mug of tea from your hand, the brief touch sending a shiver down your spine. Setting the drink down on the counter with a soft clink, he closes the space between you, the air crackling with unspoken tension.
You feel his breath on your ear as his presence looms closer, 
“What have you been thinking about, y/n?” he questions, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 
You suck in your bottom lip gently between your teeth, a nervous habit betraying the whirlwind of emotions churning within you. Your gaze locks with his, his eyes like pools inviting you take a swim.
And so, you dive in. 
Time seems to stand still as you hover on the brink of uncertainty, the weight of your unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a soft exhale, you opt for a physical reply, immediately closing the gap, crashing your lips onto Ace’s. 
His hand instinctively finds its home on your soft cheek as your lips meld together, making you moan softly into his mouth.
His lips turn up into a smile against yours, pleased with the sound that escaped your throat. 
It's a moment suspended in time, a delicate dance of longing and hesitation as you explore the uncharted territory of your newfound embrace. Your lips move together in perfect harmony, each brush of skin igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
Your surroundings seem to fall away as you make out, gently caressing Ace’s sharp jawline as his tongue presses against your lips, silently asking for permission to enter. 
You promptly oblige, parting your lips to allow Ace’s hot tongue to explore your mouth. 
He accepts, groaning softly into your open mouth as his tongue swirls around yours slowly. 
He presses forwards softly, palms resting on the countertop on either side of your hips, caging you in as he leans harder into the kiss. 
You hands travel upwards, tangling themselves in his mess of dark hair as you gently bite his bottom lip, playfully tugging on the tender flesh between your teeth.
“Ace,” you whine breathlessly. 
“Yeah?” the tall man rasps into your mouth, eyes still closed in a blissful surrender, “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” 
Your heart swells at his affectionate words and you playfully parrot his statement from before,
“You.”
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice soft yet brimming with confidence. "That's what I wanted to hear."
You feel your core tighten at his boldness, making heat pool in your crotch. 
As if he could read your body like a book, he slowly begins to snake his toned arm downwards, his hand finding its home on your aching sex. 
Your head rolls back and you let out a pleased sigh at the sensation. 
“Sensitive, are we?” Ace purrs arrogantly, pleased at his own ability. 
“Mm-mhmm,” you whine in admission because he’s right, he tugs those sounds from your body naturally, better than anyone ever has.
His able fingers cautiously meet the waistband of your pajama shorts and he shoots you a questioning glance, silently asking for your permission. 
“Please, Ace,” you whine. 
He smirks at you before dipping his hand beneath your shorts, his middle and ring finger aiming to tease your weeping opening. 
“Needy girl,” he lets out a gravelly groan, “So wet for me already.” 
A dark blush rushes to your cheeks at the lewdness of his words, but he cups your face and tilts your head down, making you watch the meticulous movements of his fingers.
His other hand swiftly snakes around to give your ass a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb beneath your waistband to tug your shorts down. 
Simultaneously, he swipes his middle finger along your aching slit, the tip of his finger meeting your hole with a precautionary nudge. 
“Mm,” you whine out, excitedly awaiting the intrusion. 
“Yeah?” Ace tests you, stalling his movements, “Come on, baby, show me how badly you want it.” 
Abandoning all dignity, you let your yearnings take the reigns, grinding your hips back and forth against him, soaking his digit in your essence. 
“Good,” Ace mumbles, rewarding your persistence with a press of his finger against your opening. Your cunt greedily accepts his digit, sucking him in. “So tight, y/n, can’t wait to stretch you out,” the man before you smirks and you want to hide your embarrassed face, but you’re too consumed by desire, unable to fall back on your shy tendencies. 
He slowly begins pumping his finger in and out of you, earning delicious moans to escape from your slack jaw and into his ear. 
You bury your face in his neck, his skin radiating heat and carrying the unmistakable scent of fire. It's primal and potent, a blend of burning wood, scorched earth, and smoldering embers. As you inhale deeply, you detect hints of charred debris and smoke clinging to him, a haunting reminder of his fire's destructive power. Yet, there's also an allure to the scent, a sense of safety, evoking memories of his warm flames flickering in the darkness. It's a scent that commands your attention, stirring your senses with its primal energy and leaving an indelible mark, much like the landscape long after the flames have been extinguished.
You’re a mess beneath his touch, biting onto the muscular flesh of his freckled shoulders, whimpering into his ear. He adds another finger, making you cry out at the intrusion earning a palm to your mouth. He works the two digits in and out of you with deliberate precision, hitting your sweet-spot perfectly with each pass. 
You start to see stars as Ace’s thumb meets your aching clit, treating the swollen nub with tight circles. 
The ever-tightening coil growing within your stomach reaches its peak, threatening to snap as Ace continues his dirty work. 
But, before your pleasure can boil over, Ace pulls away, removing his soaking fingers from your needy cunt. 
You’re trembling, weakly holding onto Ace’s muscular forearm to steady yourself as you whine,
“Aceee, w-why’d you stoppp?” your voice is desperate, nearly embarrassingly so, but you’ve long abandoned all your dignity, you just want him to keep pleasing you. 
“Turn around,” the man before you shoots you a wolfish grin, “I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 
The mere idea of passing up whatever Ace is offering fills you with trepidation, so without hesitation, you comply, swiftly turning yourself around and placing your hands on the countertop.
You glance back at the tall man behind you, finding him sporting a smug smirk, dark eyes lidded as he gazes down at you, clearly amused by your immediate obedience. 
Ace’s strong, hot hands meet your hips, griping the flesh tightly as he brings his clothed crotch to lie flush with your bare ass. 
His skin is seeping heat through his boxers, and the sensation causes you to mewl out, goosebumps budding all over your impatient skin. 
He wastes no time as he’s no better, impatient, too, immediately beginning to grind his aching cock against the flesh of your ass. A hearty moan brews in his chest and escapes from his throat, causing a dark blush to dance across your cheeks. You stare down at your fingers gripping the countertop, knuckles growing white against the granite as Ace has his way with you. 
“Fuck,” he leans forward, his bare chest lying flush with your back as he groans in your ear, “You ready for me, baby?” he nips at your ear. 
You roll your hips in response, pressing your ass harder against his erection to accentuate your whiny plea, “Please, Ace.” 
You feel his lips tug into a smirk against your ear, “Say no more, y/n.” 
In an instant, Ace’s plaid boxers meet the kitchen floor, earning a small gasp from you as you watch the fabric pool at his feet. 
Placing one warm palm on the small of your back he uses the other to grip his long, pulsing cock, lining himself up with your weeping entrance. 
Ace grits his teeth as he begins to push his tip inside you, sucking in a shaky breath through his grin as he feels your tight hole opening up for him. 
“Mmm,” you whine out, “Aceee-” 
Your fingertips make a pathetic attempt to dig into the impenetrable granite as Ace pushes himself inside you. 
The stretch is evident, nearly painful, but you endure it, for the reward of having Ace fuck you is beyond worth it. 
His fingertips meet the dip of your waistline with a comforting squeeze as he continues to press forwards, his voice filled with genuine concern, "You're alright, baby?" he asks tenderly.
“Mm-mhm,” you whine, pressing your hips back eagerly, “More, please-” 
“So desperate for me,” Ace groans through gritted teeth, but he rewards your desperation, gripping your waist tightly as he thrusts himself inside you fully, bottoming out,.
“Fuck, Ace!” you cry out, loudly at the feeling of Ace’s lengthy cock suddenly filling your insides. You feel stuffed, letting your mouth hang slack and your eyes screw shut as stars erupt beneath your lids. 
At the sudden sound of your loud moans, Ace’s hand immediately shoots forwards, palm covering your mouth tightly and pressing in firmly to punctuate his point.
Ace’s palm against your mouth makes you realize how loud you just were, and although a surge of longing and desire courses through your veins, beneath the surface, a thread of caution lingers. You are acutely aware of your surroundings, the faint sounds of the ship humming around you, the distant creak of floorboards echoing in the corridor beyond. The two of you are an open flame, and the threat of one of your crewmates walking in tickles at your mind, but is far overpowered by the desire for Ace to rail you. 
“Stay quiet for me, yeah, baby?” Ace groans, his voice a gravelly, promising whisper, “and I'll give ‘ya everything you want.” 
“M-Mhmm,” you nod your head frantically, willing to promise anything if it means he’ll keep going. 
Ace gives you a firm nod, pleased at your response, letting his hand fall from your mouth and find its way back on the other side of your waist. 
His cock throbs inside your tight cunt, making you let out a pleased but quiet moan. The feeling of your hot walls fluttering around his length makes Ace relinquish his control, steadying himself before pulling his hips back and thrusting back into you. 
Your moans threaten to escape loudly, and as much as you want to let it out, you keep them at bay, obeying Ace’s silent order. You tremble beneath him, only allowing a soft, weak moan to erupt from your heaving chest. 
Soon enough, he develops a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you rhythmically, stuffing you full, his blunt tip kissing your g-spot with each pass, making your body melt beneath him. 
He’s strategic, reaching around to rub tight circles into your clit as he fucks you from behind, keeping you bent over the kitcher counter. 
The man behind you is hot to the touch; his skin, his cock, all of him is hot, a stark contrast to the cold granite that rubs against your tits and open palms as he fucks you. 
Ace is huffing behind you, eyes screwed shut as he picks up the pace, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together dismissing the nighttime silence that hung in the kitchen earlier. 
“Fuck, y/n,” he groans, letting his head fall back. His pace increases, becoming more brutal and a bit sloppy as he chases his orgasm. 
One of his hands makes its way upwards to tangle itself in your hair, lacing his fingers in the strands and tugging on them, pulling your head back to make you look at him.
He looks beautiful like this, thrusting into you from behind, freckled face and shoulders tinted red, dark, shaggy hair clinging to his forehead with his sweat, toned chest heaving up and down. 
“Y/n,” he rasps breathlessly, eyes lidded as he stares down at you lustfully, “I-I’m so close-”
The circles he’s rubbing into your clit become tighter, more frantic, his thrusts gaining more power but becoming unsynchronized as he desperately chases his rapidly-approaching orgasm. 
You’re no better, weakly clawing at the countertop as your legs tremble, threatening to give out from under you as Ace continues to pound his length into you. He’s bullying your cervix, overstimulating your sore clit, wildly pulling you towards your own peak. 
“Sh-Shit, A-Ace-!”
In an instant, it hits you; white-hot pleasure, coursing through your veins, making your limbs grow tingly and numb, your knees buckling as they give out beneath you. You’re a trembling mess, gushing onto Ace’s cock as your orgasm reaches its crown, crashing into you with unwavering intensity. 
Ace is right behind you, granting your spent body with a few more weak thrusts before he pushes himself in fully one last time, tip meeting your cervix with a harsh bump before he erupts inside you. 
----
The soft tendrils of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the your bedroom as you stir from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you rub your eyes, a lingering sense of disorientation clouding your thoughts.
I’m in bed. Did Ace bring me here?
The events of the previous night flood your mind, and you can't help but wonder if it was all just a dream. The memory of your clandestine encounter in the kitchen feels like a distant echo, shrouded in uncertainty and disbelief.
With a sigh, you sit up, the sheets pooling around your waist as you wrestle with the conflicting memories swirling within you. Part of you yearns to believe that it was real, that the tender moments shared between you and Ace were more than just figments of your imagination.
Doubt gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering tales of wishful thinking and misplaced desire. 
But the fresh love bites on your neck and soreness of your cunt must prove otherwise, right?
Lost in your thoughts, you slip out of bed and pad across the room, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you in the present. With hesitant steps, you make your way to the kitchen, heart pounding in anticipation.
As you enter the familiar space, you let out a deep breath, scanning the room for any sign of Fire Fist Ace. But, to your dismay, the kitchen stands empty, the only remnants of your encounter being the lingering scent of tea and a damp kitchen towel. 
And then, his voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife on ice, 
“How’d you sleep, beautiful?”
You turn, and there, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, is Ace, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that steals your breath away. The sight of him, so real and tangible, dispels the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind.
He grins widely, warmly, a sight that floods your veins with a familiar sensation of heat and joy. 
“Hope I didn’t rough you up too much, pretty girl.” 
With the reassurance of his words, elation and relief climb up your spine and cling to your skin. 
You make your way towards Ace, planting a passionate kiss on his lips before gazing up into his eyes,
“Thanks for tucking me in, Ace,” you blush softly. 
The freckled man chuckles, 
“Anytime.” 
868 notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 10 days
Text
Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii
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✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)
series masterlist | next >>
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You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.
A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.
Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.
More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.
What is wrong with you?
You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.
That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.
‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’
‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’
These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.
You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.
Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]
Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.
You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]
You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.
Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.
Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.
Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.
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“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."
The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.
“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."
Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”
You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.
"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"
Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.
"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."
"Because of the divorce you mean?"
"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.
Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.
"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."
When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.
"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."
"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."
You pause to take a breath before continuing.
"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."
"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."
The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.
"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.
"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"
"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."
Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.
"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."
"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."
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It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."
Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.
Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.
Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.
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"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.
"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."
Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.
As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.
Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.
How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.
You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.
Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.
"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.
"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."
You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.
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The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.
Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.
Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.
Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.
Reluctantly, you complied.
Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]
"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.
"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"
"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"
"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"
Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?
You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.
You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.
"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.
But wait a minute.
You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.
Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?
Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.
You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.
“Tae-” you begin.
He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.
“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”
Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.
“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”
“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.
“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.
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With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.
You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.
Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.
Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.
“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”
Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.
“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"
"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."
You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.
“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."
Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.
“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."
“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"
Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.
This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.
“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.
Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.
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As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?
"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.
You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.
His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.
"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."
You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.
"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"
You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.
As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."
"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.
The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.
"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.
"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"
"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"
Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.
"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.
"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."
"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.
"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"
Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"
"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."
Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."
You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"
His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"
"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.
"I'm sorry, __. I am."
You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?
"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."
You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.
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a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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wintfleur · 5 days
Note
Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗
౨ৎ sleep darling
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﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )
°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )
°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )
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Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy. 
You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind. 
The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him. 
You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you. 
You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.” 
You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical. 
You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute. 
You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever. 
Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.” 
You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.” 
“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together. 
“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose. 
You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.” 
“I ⸺ “ 
“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme. 
Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.” 
Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you. 
You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.” 
You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.” 
Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing. 
“I love you more, now sleep darling.” 
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )
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Text
Emotional Support Girlfriend - LN
Summary: Lando's Vegas crash aftermath with his girlfriend who is there by his side throughout it all.
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As far as grand prix's go. There has not been a track more controversial than Vegas. From the schedule to the impact on locals, the whole thing has just been messy. Even from the FP1 session being red flagged and cancelled less than 10 minutes in.
With Lando''s whole family theres parents there, y/n is getting to have someone there to talk to. Mainly Cisca since Adam is without a doubt too focused on the race to engage in conversation, even about Lando or the race.
"He is excited to have you here, he thinks that you two will have a great time in Vegas." Cisca states making y/n laugh.
It's only one lap in that there is a virtual safety car and when things get back up and running, things go from questionable to horrible.
The McLaren mechanics curse and groan at the sight of Lando's car scraping the wall and then spinning till it embeds itself in the barrier.
Y/n's hands cover face, her body still with shock waiting to know if Lando's ok. It really takes a while for him to get out the car, longer than is normal and when Adam comes over from his spot more central with the team, they learn if he's actually ok.
"He sounds like he's in pain. They're taking him to the medical centre but-"
Y/n is gone before he's finished his sentence while Cisca pats her husband.
"They said we'd need to wait." Adam states making Cisca smile.
"Let her go, we both know she'd be more restless and not at ease. She'll keep us more updated anyway." Cisca smiles, assuring her husband who clearly wanted to go see Lando too but also knows Lando would hate the fussing of both his girlfriend and his parents.
Adam sighs but nods, meanwhile y/n is rushing to the medical centre, beating the medical car there. She bounces on her feet completely terrified before Lando appears with the medic and heart jumps up to her throat.
"I told you she'd be here before us." Lando states sounding almost as if he's holding his breath to withhold the pain as he speaks to the doctor who smiles but there's some concern on his face that makes her look at him in concern.
"You sound like you're hurting." Y/n murmurs trying not to let the worry take too strong of a tone in her voice.
"He took a big hit."
"Are you staying with me? Hold my hand?" Lando smiles while Jon gives her the space to move closer to her boyfriend who is still shaking a little as she saw from the onboard. "Looks like I scared the fuck out of you."
"No. I applauded watching you go backwards against with sparks flying while your wheel came off." Y/n comments sarcastically while Lando smiles at her.
They go to the doctor and after a brief examination, they decide that just for a precaution that it's best to get him on some monitors and to the hospital for checks. That sends a ripple of fear straight through y/n, her phone in her hand immediately being used to update his parents while Lando smiles then leaning over and kissing her hand softly.
"It's just precautions, y/n." Lando assures her while she nods a little but she seems completely unconvinced.
She goes with him and Jon to the hospital and of course photos are captured of the moments of him on the gurney before she looks at him for a moment.
Y/n is by Lando's side throughout every test unless the doctors urge that she can't be in the room. Then they just have to wait, which with Lando being such a high priority patient, doesn't take as long as it might for a normal person.
He did get given something for the pain in his back since it did take a lot of the impact of both the initial crash and the stop into the barrier. So he's maybe a little bit out of it and doped up.
"Y/n smile." Lando instructs taking a video of his girlfriend. "The best girlfriend who hasn't left my side, even beat me to the medical centre."
"You scared the shit out of me, this is not romantic. This is my nightmare." Y/n states while Lando bursts into laughter from her admission and stops recording planning to keep that for the archives, maybe to post for the one year anniversary of the crash. "Baby...it's your first DNF of the season."
"It is. But it's going to be the only one."
"Alright, you'll be a little tender for a bit, aching and sore but we can't see any damage or injuries." The doctor declares walking in the room and looking at Lando's folder. "You are free to be discharged and go about to your business as usual."
"Perfect." Lando smiles while y/n thanks the doctor for his time.
They head off with Jon and the moment they're outside Lando is complaining about the cold ending up in Jon's jacket which is far too big for him. Though y/n had offered her jacket which would be a better fit but he wouldn't allow her to get cold at his benefit.
"You look so...cute." Y/n grins moving to kiss him as they sit in the car together. "You need to eat."
"I need to get back for the debrief...who won?" Lando asks as he spots y/n's phone open on twitter (I refuse to refer to it as anything other than twitter, not sorry)
"Max...then Charles too P2 after he made the best overtake of the year...honestly he made the best two or three over takes of the year. When you see them...you'll be impressed and then Checo got P3...Esteban P4 and Lance P5."
"That's...expected and two completely unexpected...Esteban and Lance, really?" Lando questions earning a nod. "Esteban started pretty far back right?"
"P16." Y/n confirms while Lando smiles since he knows y/n is trying to figure out what she missed in the race. After all, she's an F1 nerd and likes to look at more than just the results, she tries to peak at data all the time and has talked to more drivers than Lando has about all the technical parts.
"I'm sorry you missed the race." Lando murmurs making her look up from her screen with a frown that looks genuinely angry for a moment before she throws her phone in her bag in the foot well.
"Lando..." Y/n starts then crossing her arms a little. "Do you think for a second I want to be anywhere but by your side after a crash like that?"
"I love you." Lando pouts actually realising that this woman really is the woman he needs to spend the rest of his life trying to be good enough for. "I really do deserve you."
"Baby-"
"No. Because I know you have to watch me go out and you accept that my life is hanging in the balance of one wrong move. You could leave, you could decide that's just too much to deal with but you stay and you stay with me when I end up in hospital. I don't think I would've been ok without you there really."
Lando is a strong man, y/n has never seen him cry. He's got teary-eyed but they've never fallen and in her eyes, he'd be just fine without her but hearing him say that he wouldn't have been ok if she hadn't have been there, that tugs on her chest in way she can hardly bear.
Her lip forms a pout before he leans over kissing her.
Just thinking about the past couple hours and the fact that y/n hasn't left his side, she hasn't eaten, had a drink, hasn't thought about herself for a second of it. It's not the firs time Lando has been prioritised and he know sit all started in the early days of their relationship when Lando called her his emotional support girlfriend. With her there he feels safe and comforted, and while she's never said as much, the way she is with him, he knows he holds the same position for her.
"I love you." Lando whispers while pulling her closer, even pulling her so her legs are over his lap. "My emotional support girlfriend."
Y/n grins as Lando uses the term and kisses her nose, really playing into trying to be cutesy.
"You're such an idiot."
"Not very emotionally supportive. But I'll let it go since it's been a rough couple hours." Lando smiles before they arrive back at the paddock.
Walking out, it's no surprise that there's a couple cameras having spotted him in the car as it pulled up who rush to capture his return, Jon making comments to make sure they capture him in the oversized jacket that is very obviously not Lando's.
They get to the McLaren unit where Lando heads up for the debrief, leaving Jon with instructs to feed and hydrate his girlfriend since she has just been too focused on Lando to remember to take care of herself. Thankfully, Jon is always happy to help when needed.
When y/n gets to sit down to eat, Lando's parents appear looking tired. Most likely from the time of day.
"He's fine. Still wearing the stupid hospital bracelets like he got them for festival entrance." Y/n jokes feeling better knowing Lando is ok and well enough to get back into the usual race day routine. "The doctors did give him something for the pain, so he's not really feeling it anymore. I don't know how long that will last but they said from all the tests there was no visibly injuries."
"That's good. He'll be alright to race next weekend." Cisca states looking very much relieved while hugging y/n just as a comfort to herself more than anything. She has already taken to treating y/n like one of her children and almost subconsciously treats her as family without thinking.
"I think even if he had injuries he'd be in that car racing against all medical advice next weekend." Adam chuckles knowing his son would never allow himself to miss the last race of the season.
"He'll be alright." Y/n nods before smiling when the parents join her to eat.
They talk for a while before Lando appears and gets slightly fussed over by his parents while y/n watches in amusement of it.
"I'm fine, but could we change the celebratory Vegas meal till tomorrow?" Lando asks as y/n smiles sadly at him knowing that he wouldn't ask his parents to rearrange unless he really didn't feel like going out.
"We were going to cancel the reservation anyway, we just wanted to see you." Cisca states dismissing it.
"You guys go to the dinner. That restaurant needs to be enjoyed by someone. You go on." Y/n frowns wafting her hands while Lando nods in agreement. "I'll make sure he is all rested up and feeling better for tomorrow."
"Lando, you never fuck it up with this woman. I'll choose her over you." Cisca states moving to her son and kissing his cheek while Lando smiles at his mum and y/n laughs hugging Adam who whispers he'd choose her too.
After the parents leave for what has went from a family dinner to a date night in Vegas. Y/n moves to Lando and sighs softly as she hugs him.
"I'm the favourite."
"Yeah, but I can't hold it against them. I think everyone prefers you."
"Don't lie. Zak definitely loves you more."
-
Lando still isn't really a hundred percent the next day and y/n spends majority of the day just trapped in bed with him while he hugs her tightly.
Days wasted lying in bed, just in each other's company. Especially after such a physically and mentally exhausting day yesterday. She hates that Lando was in such a bad crash, but ultimately, she really loves him being a little more clingy and needy.
"Were you scared?" Y/n asks in a whisper making Lando look up at her from where he was looking at his phone while lying his head during her tummy. "Like were you scared it might end up being worse than it was?"
"I was maybe a little scared." Lando smiles then hiding his face since admitting fear as an F1 driver is apparently condemnable by "real" F1 fans. Since F1 drivers should be fearless even in the face of a potential deadly crash or accident. "Mainly scared for you to have to get back get out on the dating market."
"Mmm...that's pretty scary." Y/n nods before he laughs and kisses her skin softly. "Never leave me. I can't deal with any other man coming into my life and trying to replace you."
"I can't lose my emotional support girlfriend." Lando grins while she laughs feeling his teeth on her tummy from his smile still being hidden from her sight.
"We need to get this damn bracelet off of you." Y/n states gently touching the hospital bracelet. "I'll put it in my scrapbook."
"Nerd."
"Pleb." Y/n shoots back before feeling his fingers dig into her exposed side and jab perfectly into the ticklish spot that makes her nearly throw herself off the bed trying to escape his touch.
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inkskinned · 4 months
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you keep having dreams about the holidays. in this last one, everyone is happy again, and it is a good day for a moment, the way that sometimes peace could settle in restless clumps over everyone's head. your father is downstairs, everyone else is picking a movie to watch. your cat is still alive and in your mother's lap. you aren't afraid to go into the kitchen to eat, the guilt isn't there yet, and everything is free. your dog is lying down with your siblings, tongue lolling out his mouth. everything feels warm and silly.
you see your hand in the kitchen and you see the light of the fridge click on and some part of you says go back into the living room, you're missing the good part. this is how you spent most of your childhood: when you weren't in the room, it was alright. being in the room was the problem. you spent so much being present wishing someone would notice if you left. you love these people. there is something fundamentally wrong with your head. you stand in the kitchen and feel that rabid heart of yours; the one that tries to make you leave any situation, even when you're wanted.
you don't have this anymore. the mashed potatoes you pull out of tupperware containers spell out big letters on the counter. when you wake up, this isn't the life you have anymore.
sometimes that's an amazing thing - you are so glad you're out of this fucking house. when the peace breaks here, it shatters into months-long screaming. these gulfs and valleys are illusions. you're holding your breath even in the memory, waiting for the wrong thing to happen, the thing that splinters the family.
but sometimes... it would be nice to have this version of the house back. the fire is roaring. someone is laughing so hard it sounds like they're crying, wheezing through the story they're telling, michael buble is singing. in a few hours it will be time for pie, but in the meantime you're going to watch some fast and the furious something. you're all going to talk over most of it, quip lines at each other like it's mystery science theatre. you're all just about to start a board game or maybe a family art project. you're just about to hang up garlands.
someone asked you recently - what if you wake up and it's november of 2013. there are a lot of things that you would be horrified by. the things you'd have to relive, the bitter slow pain of recovery. and fuck, you'd still have to escape him, and the parts of this house that are ugly. to deliver yourself, mangled, into the long road you take in therapy. fuck that entirely.
but you'd also have this moment back, standing half in the kitchen and half in the living room, talk-shouting at your siblings, wiggling and dancing, throwing karate chops at each other and splitting the last crescent roll and gleefully telling college stories your mother really doesn't want to know. the house like this is warm, held in this space before-things. in this world it will be a few years before your family is splintered. these days you have to get in a car to travel to each visit, looping each person together in a little embroidery constellation. here it is loud. it will be a few years before the holidays are quiet, reserved, a little distant.
in the dream, you waver, your hand outstretched. for the love of god, go back the room. go back in and tell them you love them, tell them what this means to you. for the love of god, go now!
you're gonna wake up soon.
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aphrogeneias · 7 months
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restless — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you and eddie are having a lazy day, but you manage to find a way to ease his restlessness.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: fluff and smut (+18), making out, dry humping, grinding (but no penetration), they're both sickenly in love
author's note: i'll write clingy eddie or i'll write nothing at all. thank you for reading <3
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"You're alright in there, baby?"
Your voice drips with sweet tenderness. Hearing yourself like that would perhaps make you cringe a while ago. Now, though, that is just how you sound around the boy that is currently hiding himself inside your t-shirt.
"Uh-huh."
His cheek is squished to your bare skin, foregoing anything under your clothes to avoid more heat. The feeling of his lips lightly brushing it makes you giggle, running your hand over his head, where you can still feel his wild hair under the fabric.
You've been reading in Eddie's bed all afternoon, and he started the day doing just the same, both of you sitting side by side, backs to his pillows, each reading a book of your own. At some point, he grew restless and left the bedroom, not before leaving a kiss on your forehead, so as to not disturb your reading.
He'd been out a while now. You figured he was working on painting the new miniatures he was going to gift Erica since her birthday was soon, and he was dead set on finishing them this week, and was probably using the kitchen table as his work station. It was a matter of time until he grew restless again, though.
That restlessness was what brought him back to you.
"Did you get bored out there?"
Eddie shakes his head no, still not moving from his hiding place. "Jus' missed you."
"I was just a room away from you." You pretend to scold, and even though he can't see it, there's a grin that is only reserved from him growing on your face. It's his turn to scoff, then, and he suddenly lifts your shirt from above him, and from your chest altogether, leaving little kisses all over your torso, but avoiding where he knows you crave his mouth the most. You're almost matching now, Eddie having lost his own shirt hours ago.
"A fucking travesty, if you ask me."
Silly, that's what this love drove you. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he lifted himself up, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places. 
His hands met your waist, ran over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you were expecting. On the other hand, you grabbed wherever you could get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when he didn't budge. until he pulled away.
"Breathe. It's okay, we've got time."
The sun shines brightly outside, bathing Eddie's room in gold. Golden like the molten feeling inside you when you see his eyes from up close, a mischievous look in those deep pools of warm brown, warm like the feeling that spreads from your neck to your center, making you wiggle your hips uncomfortably. He was mocking you, but you know he's just as eager as you.
"I know, but I want you now."
You manage to distract him with your sudden bolsa move, and flip him on his back until you're on top. There's no time for him to find what to say, because you're kissing him again, this time wasting no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. 
The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his sweatpants, where you can feel his desire growing — you've known all day that he wasn't wearing any underwear, but feeling it was an entirely different thing. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.
"What do you want, sweetheart?"
"Wanna make us feel good." You make your point by rolling your hips once again, applying more pressure. There's not much separating your already drenched core from his erection, only a pair of old sleep shorts and equally old underwear, and you sigh from the delicious drag of your pussy over the soft material of his pants. 
"Then do it. I'm all yours, baby."
You double down your efforts, grinding on him in earnest now. Your kisses are faster now, but mostly you just pant and breathe into each other's mouths, moaning when you reach a particularly good spot. There's a growing wet patch in your shorts, transfering to Eddie's gray pants, and you can almost hear how wet you are. His hands only leave your hips to travel up into your loose t-shirt, grabbing your tits and pulling your nipples, just rough enough to make you whine into his lips.
Deciding you need to feel more of him, you lift yourself up, quickly removing your shorts and panties at the same time, and mounting him again.
"That's it. Good girl. That's my good fucking girl." Eddie is breathing heavily now, his voice deeper. You're the one on top, but you still melt at his praise, hanging on to his every word. "You're making such a mess for me, fuck."
It's worse when you can feel him, thick and warm under you, every inch of him with each drag of your pussy, the precum leaking from him staining his pants as well. A mixture of both of you making you slide back and forth with ease, the wave growing inside of you higher and higher, making you clench around nothing as you seek your release wildly, riding him with fervor. 
In a delirious search for that peak, you just pull his pants down, eagerly looking to feel his bare cock as you cum. His eyes bulge, and the moan he lets out is enough to almost take you there, a string of curses leaving his pretty pink lips, but all it takes are a couple more hip thrusts, your clit catching right at the pulsing head of his cock, making the two of you moan loudly, and your orgasm crash all over you.
Eddie doesn't take long to follow, reaching his own high, and cumming all over his stomach.
"Fuck. You're too much."
You don't have the energy to laugh as you roll from him, laying on your side, and reaching out to brush some stray strands that fell on his face. His eyes are closed, and you take a moment to admire him in the afterglow. Cheeks flushed, full lips agape, sweat gathering on his hot skin.
"Too much in love with you."
Eddie opens his eyes only to roll them, but the dimpled, lazy smile he gives you says otherwise. Ignoring the wet, sticky mess that's cooling between you, he leans over and kisses you. You keep kissing like that, like you have all the time in the world, until you're ready to make a new mess.
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lorelune · 24 days
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jing yuan has never thought much of his hands (they're wide, long from tip of his index finger to the bottom of his palm. they do not scar but are nonetheless weathered) until you start to grab them whenever you have a quiet moment together. not just to hold, but to touch. feel. you run the pads of your fingers through the creases and lines of his palm while telling him about your day. you massage the meat of his thumb down to his wrist while he reads to you.
at first, he thinks it's a mindless action. something restless under your skin and his hand is the easiest thing to toy with. you always say you enjoy the warmth of him, he's a furnace, and his hands run equally as toasty.
he realizes it's more intentional when you bring a bottle of thin oil to one of your lunchtime chats. it's a small vial, really, and the oil has no scent. you smear some onto his hands and silently work it in. you're diligent, rubbing between his fingers up to his cuticles, and then down the back of his hands. you massage the excess into his wrist.
jing yuan can't find it in him to speak as you do so.
it's care— so explicitly. it's not mindless, it's tender and thoughtful. jing yuan had not recognized it. he knows the dances lovers share (the demure and kind in public, the sharing of treats and walking the streets with hands clasped together. the carnal in private, fingers intertwined and pressed into sweaty sheets.) he doesn't know this one-- he has. maybe seen it. once, between lovers he did everything he could not to look at fully (perish the thought that yingxing and dan feng could see him now, in all his foolishness. he'd be raked over the coals for it.)
this action, however, does not belong to a past he chose not to be privy to, but to him and you. so does the soft, determined look that you give his hands as your combined heat melt in the oil. the weight of you against his side as you do so is all his to have. you're so comfortable with him, so happy to lean against him and worry hands that have never had anyone close enough to worry for them in such a way before.
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crabsnpersimmons · 1 month
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"Hair dyes or perms or just a quick snip, you can always count on your ol' pal Clip!"
it's about time i officially shared my design for Clip from my hairdresser au! here's the silly boi himself!
a.k.a. the most complicated character i've ever designed...
close ups and additional comments under the cut!
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that's my boi, despite his crazy design, i love him. his silly top knot hat, the horn-like points around his faceplate, his speckled colours, his four arms, and his funky pants. he's just soooooo fun.
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Clip likes to play games and knit! he even made the patchwork pants he wears (he made Sun and Moon a pair too, but they're too precious for them to wear... also a little gaudy to wear in public—doesn't stop Clip tho!). He actually makes everything the boys wear, since there's not a lot of things in their size/shape.
instead of resting at night, he can be found in their living room, playing Kirby 64 for the nth time and/or knitting something. he's just too restless to stay still, he's always gotta be doing something and if it isn't gaming, knitting, or hairdressing, then he's up to No GoodTM.
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Clip... likes popping balloons. he says "Goodnight!" with each popped balloon and once he's done, he tosses up the scraps like confetti all while giggling joyfully.
needless to say, he is not fun at parties. Sun and Moon don't let him near balloons for this reason.
and yes, he has sewing needles on hand at all times. for fashion emergencies... and for unsuspecting balloons.
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Clip's not allowed to have a phone (just imagine all the in-app purchases Sun and Moon would have to deal with), but he likes to keep up with his customers and their games, even if he doesn't get their fixation over bluenets he'll never openly admit it but he prefers curly-haired blond hunks that look sweet in soft pastels but could also squash him like the spider he is
also, he's great at microbraiding! though i imagine if Sun and Moon are free, they'd come help to shorten the wait but also to compete and see who braids the most (Clip always wins of course—make anything into a game, and he's winning)
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aaaaand there's this! i wanted to make sure Clip would be able to freely rotate his waist so his arms could have their full range of motion, and this was the solution i came up with: a crop top on top and a wrap around his waist. and Clip here is being a sneaky little scamp about it.
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loveindefinitely · 4 months
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༊*·˚ YOUR PERFECT KISSES, HOLD ME SOFTLY — early morning cuddles with your boyfriends!
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featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish
warnings. sfw, fem!reader, polyamory, kissing, non-sexual touching, soapghost, pre-established relationship
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The morning sun filters in through the pale curtains of the window, brushing the three of you in strokes of soft oranges and yellows.
Ghost's arm is heavy around your waist, his chest pressed tightly to your back where you lay. He acts like a heated, comfortable anchor for your usually restless sleeps.
The smell of warm vanilla and musk is a familiar and safe one, Soap's head resting where your neck meets your shoulder. His leg is hooked over your hip, over Ghost's, too. He was always a koala when he slept, needing your touch, desperate for the feel of your bodies draped over his own.
"Go back to sleep," Ghost's gravelly voice murmurs next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His normal voice was a punch to the gut, but the tone, the depth of it when he had just woken up?
It makes your heart skip a beat, your breath come out just the slightest bit harsher.
You turn, just slightly, gently opening one of your eyes to look at Ghost. His deep brown eyes are half-closed with sleep, just the slightest bit glassy.
"Morning," you whisper, brushing your lips against the morning scruff of his chin, then moving up to plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
His arm tightens around your torso, pulling you just the slightest bit closer, like a possessive cat with its milk. "Mornin' Princess," he responds with the slightest quirk to his lips.
Soap murmurs in his sleep, eyebrows scrunching the lightest bit as he presses closer into you, head burrowing even further into your neck.
When your gaze drifts back to Ghost, you find his adoring gaze focused on the man in your arms, before it returns to you. The emotion in them doesn't change. Not in the slightest.
"Pretty," he says, like it's an admonishment. The word settles in your mind, the way he says it, the weight of the syllables on his tongue, all kept as a memory to look back on in years to come. "My pretty girl."
You nod, gently, as not to stir Soap still asleep in your arms. "Yours, Simon. All yours."
He presses the kindest of kisses to your forehead, so delicate in comparison to the harm you know that the man can cause. The deaths on his hands, the thrill of it in his bones.
And yet.
Here, Ghost is, cradling his lovers like they're the most precious of cargos. Ghost. Legend of the military. The man with the mask that sparks recognition and fear in the soldiers unlucky enough to cross his path.
The Ghost.
And he was yours. Just as much as he was Soap's -- Johnny's --but yours, nonetheless.
"Thinkin' so loud," that memorable scottish lilt huffs, but there's no hostility in the words. With a soft bite at your neck, Soap leans back with a soft groan, looking at the both of you. "Good fuckin' mornin' to me, aye?"
You huff out a breath of a laugh, and Soap's mouth twists into an easy smirk, movements lethargic and slow.
Grabbing your chin with large, roughened hands, he tilts your face to slot against his own, deepening the kiss almost immediately. His tongue slides against your own, lazy in its strokes.
"Gross," Ghost mutters, with a half-assed roll of his eyes. "Mornin' breath. Brush your teeth."
You giggle against Soap's lips, and when you pull away, he bites at your bottom lip and plants a couple quick presses against your mouth before pulling away. His smirk only deepens, the light in his blue eyes dancing with half-awake joy.
"Jealous, Lt?" Soap taunts, without the usual teasing bite. You supposed that even he had to awake before the real energy began.
"Told you to stop callin' me that after hours," Ghost grumbles with a furrow of his brows. "'Nd no, 'm not. Just mindful of my hygiene."
You hum, melting between the two large men, fully ready for them to converse while you didn't have to think for a single moment. Ready to just live in the space between the two who held your deepest adorations.
The dream is short lived, however.
"C'mon, gorgeous," Soap goads, "Let's make sure we're all perfect for our boy."
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anantaru · 1 year
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GENSHIN + YOU‘RE MINE, MINE ALONE
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— ꒰ including ꒱ — cyno, heizou, diluc, xiao, childe x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, they're clingy, a lil messy
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— ꒰ CYNO ꒱
underneath your body, you feel nothing but cyno's trace, his touch, his warm hands softly scattered across your thighs.
be no mistake, he sought after taking the lead, but wouldn't deny you whenever you urged him to be the one in control for one. "keep still, sweet general." you coo and he listens, his cheeks being plucked within a snug enfold, taking pleasure in your well thought out nickname.
"s-say that again." he's muttering under the shadow of his heavy breathing, "call me that again." a sparse swell of pride brewed in you as he revealed his request.
you, on the other hand, spared no effort to fasten your hips on him, your sweet cunt restlessly working back and forth, back and forth, until you reached both your orgasm and his release.
"my general." you're breathless, poking fun at the way cyno would throb whenever you'd address him in that precise manner, how he'd massage your mushy walls a little better, would rub his imposing girth into you and you could feel it all, each rill and curve.
"y-yeah." a raspy tone greets you from underneath when his eyes closed to wholly concentrate in making you feel good and satisfied, even though he had promised he wouldn't interfere, it was now exceptionally more difficult to keep himself in check.
not when you began to tense your muscles whenever he sank into your hotness to the hilt.
you're lowering your body to be flushed on his chest when he had abruptly bottomed out, targeting the deepest ends of your spongy insides.
you feel nothing other than your sensitive nerves being hit by his restless hips smacking in and out, your little pussy helplessly grinding down and searching for more friction, sloppily smearing your own slick over his lower region as it began to seem like it wasn't you who was in charge after all.
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— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱
heizou carefully adjusted himself behind you, a teeny tiny bit closer, idly pulling you towards his hips so your squishy behind would clumsily bump into his agonizingly erected cock.
"fuck, baby." he's setting his hands free around your hips, "you missed me, right? don't deny it."
the fact you didn't even have to turn around once to discern the filthy smirk smoothed down on his pretty lips said a lot about how good you knew your boyfriend.
"p-please heizou." to get your point across you began to wiggle yourself further into his cock which was now resting in front your tense hole, being tapped and prodded on, "now- i need you now."
once he hears you whine it's over, or beg that is, what about a combination of both? heaven.
"there— take it." and once now, he's shifting the mattress underneath him while carefully drawing you close in combination with digging himself past the flesh of your heat, your swollen pussy glistering when he rolled into you.
heizou made sure to bury every last inch of his length, have you feel it all over your walls, as if he was gradually claiming you from the very inside, liquifying his overturning touch on you.
"ah-" considering the fact you've done it multiple times over the course of your relationship, he felt especially hard in you tonight, warm and rigid when he continued to rub his tip over the prickling splotches in your gummy walls.
your arms were starting to strain from keeping your body on all fours and at the very last you plopped onto your elbows, still having your pussy open and wet for him to suitably use you, make love to you.
as patient as you were beforehand, you now couldn't help it but ceaselessly knock your ass back on his
at the impact, heizou fell right onto your back and licked from your spine up to your shoulder, feeling you more clear, the close proximity fastening each breath you inhaled.
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— ꒰ DILUC ꒱
"d-diluc, feels good." you babble into the warm room while delving your fingers into diluc's scarlet hair, selfishly crushing your pussy over his swollen lips, leaving his tongue to do all the work.
you taste pleasant, like saccharine, a little bitter but it only adds to your delightful scent. Diluc loves it, loves you, how you're wrapping your legs around his head, securing them closer while riding his tongue.
you noticed the sloppy sounds, or how his wet muscle continued to scrabbled into your puffy folds and digging past the flesh, assembling your compelling slick across his mouth.
maybe, you were selfish after all, how you had used diluc all night for your own benefits— but it's not your fault! he's way too good at this, not to mention skilled, he's reaching the places you were never aware anyone could poke and pat on in the first place.
your fist grabbed a handful of his hair and that's what brought him over, what had him moan into your pussy without an utter shame left in his boiling veins, "a-again." he's uttering from underneath.
"again, please— again."
you're crying at the vibrations he managed to set free, how they howled over your entire body and grasped at your senses, the overstimulating waves pistoling into your sweet cunt when you do as he says, graze him with another harsh tug of his hair, wiping yet another raspy groan off his throat.
the noises he made were almost as mesmerizing as his tongue, the twisting coil in your stomach forming into a painful ache as you continued to thrust into his mouth, faster than before, charging towards your delightful release.
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— ꒰ XIAO ꒱
if you were to describe how xiao handled you, how he worshipped your body, it was to be something in between a dreamlike sensation and a lulling musing.
he'd never hurt you.
xiao would always make sure of it and if he had to ask a lot more than three times, the last thing he'd want to achieve was to actually making his enchanting darling to feel pain, asides of him being the culprit in question.
"how do I feel?" it made you flustered whenever he'd ask you, because xiao did not perceive those things as embarrassing nor unspeakable, he needed to know each emotion and touch, if he's too fast, too slow or maybe too rough?
"you— you feel amazing xiao." you squeal into his shoulder, "always," you're spreading your legs a bit further so he could accurately huddle himself in between when he continued to rut his stiff cock into you, in and out, inch by inch and he took his time to make you feel it all.
you discerned the bigger vein on the underside of his length, how he had gotten a bit more drenched in your slick and the way he was leaking of his pre.
xiao appeared impatient in his mannerism, in any other occasion his strokes were slow but deep, yet now they were fast and uneven, sloppy and hungry, as if he couldn't wait to cum all over you, or maybe you'll allow him to finish inside for once.
his size was remarkable yet he wasn't aware of that fact, though when he made you scream his name it was clear on how good he made you feel and enjoy yourself.
you swiftly gathered your fingers downright to fiercely rub your clit while xiao rested both hands next to your head— as to cage you in, ferociously fucking into you with an everlasting pace, his tattoos brilliantly shining underneath the dimly lid room.
at this point, your cunt was soiled with his cum, your hands picking up on pace and archons, it was so disgustingly hot, so fucking good how he stretched you wide open, your spine arching into his body.
you could never keep your sounds in from how he handled you, being aware that xiao needed to hear you praise him, promising that he's doing such a great job for you.
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— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱
whether it was pinching your little clit, slapping your wet folds or delicately tapping at your hole with his rough finger pads, childe always had his precise ways of handling you in a (in his eyes) proper manner.
they were somehow typical for him and reflected on how he was in many aspects in life.
he‘s not hesitating to sloppily kiss you while his fingers were busy playing with your cunt, splitting your poor hole as you gushed around his digits, swallowing him knuckles deep.
"there you go baby." his voice caused you to jolt, it ran down your ears like honey, so smooth and hard to tell if he was being actually sincere or battering something ulterior behind his pick of words.
the torture on your clit felt endless, childe would fill your hole and spit on your cunt— but then savagely drag himself out to knead his pads over your clit, gently pinching your nerves— not too much pressure of course, he‘s aware it‘s not pleasurable if he‘s too rough.
your jaw was slacked, silent cries, sounds but you do not speak clearly, nothing had ever truly compared on how he fondled your pussy so expertly— your spongy walls tasting his blowing touch when he curled up to dig himself into your prickling spot, the one that had you moan out the filthiest of noises towards him.
you‘re extremely sensitive and rob all his free movements away when your thighs tightly squish around his arm, swaying while he‘s being back with mercilessly thrusting into your cunt.
"i could do this all day." he admits, brazenly, "you‘re so cute." maybe it was your worn out face, your slicked up pussy or his hands being drenched in your filth what made him say this.
you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way— so exposed how you were while he was working his fingers on you, delving his digits over your walls, please deeper, and rubbing onto the velvety skin.
so open and to be taken by him, soon— because right now, childe preferred to fuck your sobbing pussy with his slender fingers.
he clearly sees it, how it‘s igniting something in you, something mouth watering. Childe was ware of your limits but he didn‘t approach them yet, but he might soon.
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