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euphorajeon · 20 days

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trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m)

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, smut | college au, slight coffee shop au (?)

— word count: 12.4k

— warnings: pov change after the first part (its kinda obvious.. i hope), sleeveless jk, jealous jk, like really jealous, side character yoongi, cameo jimin and hoseok, they work tgt in a coffee shop, boxer!jk is back to his nature (he's boxing again, at last), cocky jk (but he's hot so its ok), usual banter between jk and oc, also banter between oc and jimin, mentions of cuts and bruises from boxing, references to the movie Real Steel, uhh what else i dont rmb anything else this thing is GIANT for me, smut in the form of: kissing, marking (hickeys), making out, an attempt at dirty talk, dry humping, cumming in pants, hint at unprotected penetrative sex at the end (don't do this!). [pls lmk if i missed smth]

— summary: a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.

— author's note: okay first of all full disclosure i started this in sept 2022 and just finished it today ^_^ i tried to edit it as best as i could, so if you see any mistakes, pls kindly... ignore... thank you... ^_^ that aside, i also feel the need to disclose that this is only my second time attempting to write smut so pls.. be kind.. hehe. okay! i hope you enjoy this absolute giant baby of mine!!

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

There’s an advantage to knowing someone for years. Jeon Jeongguk can attest to this fact from first-hand experiences he’d had with you throughout the many years you both have known each other. He’s seen you cry after you almost drowned when you were ten and you’ve seen him throw up his breakfast after drinking skimmed milk when he was twelve, where both life-threatening experiences had been deemed not serious by young-you and young-Jeongguk who used both experiences as means to roast each other. (Though growing up, your hands automatically grabbed the whole milk carton when grocery shopping with him and he’s never let you go within a five-meter radius of a swimming pool without his supervision.)

Years of friendship with you has also given him the advantage of being familiar with your likes and dislikes, from trivial ones like how you don’t drink coffee because it upsets your stomach to more serious ones like the type of boys you would date in your teen years. He’s never had a problem with the former, instead using it as another mean to annoy you (“You can’t drink coffee? What are you? A child?”), but the latter had always bugged him for reasons unknown prior to his big epiphany a little over a year ago. (Spoiler alert: it was the first time he came home with piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, when he tempted you into kissing him stupid.)

Now he’s confident that the type of a boy you’d date would be someone who is handsome, tall, has a great smile and tattooed bulging biceps on the side. Add a lip piercing (and a fake tongue one!) as well and he’s sure you’re never going to look at other boys ever again. If you do, well, he’d just make the piercing on his tongue a permanent one, even though that means he wouldn’t be able to kiss you for weeks after. But as said earlier, he’s confident that you only have eyes for him alone.

With that same confidence, Jeongguk struts through the glass door of the coffee shop you’re working at for the summer, going up to the counter with a grin painted on his features. Said grin goes unnoticed by you, though, as you’re busy taking the order of the person in front of him. His lips stay tilted upwards as he watches you work, writing the customer’s name on the cup with your big, round, cute handwriting. Only when you’re done taking the order and the customer’s cup has been given to your coworker do you notice his presence, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“Hi, what can I get you today?” you greet him in your customer-service voice and smile like you do any other customer that has come before him. Jeongguk gives you an amused smile, making you chuckle as you key in his order even before he says it himself. He eyes the small screen in front of him that displays his usual choice of beverage, making a sound to stop you from ringing him up.

“Actually,” he says when you hum in question, “could you add milk to that? Make it a latte?”

“You want a latte?” you emphasize the last word, making sure you didn’t hear him wrong. “Like, with milk and foam on top?”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongguk confirms, leaning his elbows on the counter to stare at you as you change his order from an americano to a latte. “Can I also order you on the side? Look too good not to be devoured,” he adds, a sleazy smirk on his lips.

You scrunch up your face at his innuendo, his words hard to believe when you’re wearing a murky brown apron and a matching cap on your head. “I’m adding a brownie,” you deadpan. “That would be seven dollars.”

“You don’t want anything?” Jeongguk asks as he straightens up, hand reaching for his wallet to take out his credit card. “No coffee though, babe.”

“Nope, I’m good,” you answer as you accept the card Jeongguk hands you, swiping it through the card reader. “Yoongi said I can try the new menu in large for free! I’m saving calories for that so no sugar allowed for now.”

His forehead creases upon hearing the new name. “Yoongi? Who’s Yoongi?”

“Him,” you tilt your head towards a mint-haired guy who’s busy making all the drinks, hands skillfully moving from one cup to another. It’s a wonder how he doesn’t spill even a drop of liquid. “I’ll introduce you later but now you have to move, there’s a line. Shoo.”

Jeongguk gives you a playful pout as a protest but complies with your request to move, sliding down to the pick up counter as you greet the next customer in line. There are two people lined up after him, barely a line like you made it sound like, but he figures because it’s an hour before closing that you consider any amount above one person a line. He also notices that you and the mint guy (Yoongi, was it?) are the only ones manning the counter, so it’s not like you have any spare time to deal with him given the amount of work that has to be done.

“An iced latte and brownie for Jeongguk!” Mint guy shouts as he slides the drink and dessert on the counter, lingering for a second when he sees Jeongguk’s hands reaching for his order. Mint guy’s gaze trails up his arms to his face, eyes meeting Jeongguk’s confused ones. Recognition bleeds into his cat-like eyes as his mouth forms into an O shape.

“Kiddo’s boyfriend?”

The low baritone of his voice is unexpected, though that’s not the only thing throwing Jeongguk for a loop. ‘Kiddo’? He has a nickname for you??

Mint guy—Yoongi!—doesn’t take his lack of response personally, instead opting to turn around and talk to you who have just finished taking orders from the customers. Jeongguk can’t hear what words you and Yoongi are throwing around, but from the way you glance at him, it looks like the mint-haired guy is just trying to confirm the answer to his two-worded question directed at Jeongguk earlier.

Your response to Yoongi’s inquiry makes the guy give you double pats on your cap-covered head, triggering a laugh to come out of both of you. While Yoongi’s laugh looks like he’s teasing you good-naturedly, yours looks like a shy one if the pink dusting your cheeks are any indication. It prompts a scowl to appear on Jeongguk’s handsome visage, furrowed brows and clenched jaw. It is not in your nature to get shy.

As much as he wants to stay rooted to the pick-up counter to keep you and Yoongi in his close watch, he has to move his ass somewhere less crowded to avoid getting eye-fucked by the girl next to him who has been staring at his tattoos for the past five minutes. Prior to dating you, anyone who displays interest in his tattoos would make pride swell in his chest, an ego-booster guaranteed to make his day a thousand times better. He used to subtly flex whenever he caught someone looking at his sleeve tattoos, an equally subtle wink on the side if that someone is a girl he found attractive. But after dating you, he realizes that the only attention he wants (and matters) is yours. Now anyone staring at his tattoos with the intention of flirting or getting in his pants just makes him shiver in disgust.

Though, in this particular instance, Jeongguk admits it’s his own fault by showing up to the coffee shop in a sleeveless shirt. It wasn’t intentional, he just grabbed anything within reach when he packed for the gym earlier in the day, but the way he left his hoodie in the car is definitely intentional. He thought he would give you a distraction surprise by baring his sleeve when you’re working, but you seemed unaffected even when he leaned on the counter to flex his muscles. Which is weird, considering you never missed any chance to ogle his inked bicep whenever he’s boxing.

As Jeongguk plops a small piece of brownie into his mouth, he just realizes that your roles are reversed now, with you doing your thing and him doing the staring. His eyes never leave your figure as you ring up three more customers since he sat down, transferring plastic cups onto Yoongi’s never-ending queue of orders. He watches as you take the last two cups by yourself, re-reading the order before moving to grab the ingredients needed for the drink. Your hands don’t work as fast as Yoongi’s, the muscle memory not yet settling in, but Jeongguk can tell that your help is appreciated by the way the mint guy smiles at you while patting your shoulder.

When the orders are all done, you go up to the glass door to flip the sign so it shows the Sorry, we’re closed! side. A glance at the clock tells him that it is thirty minutes until closing time, meaning thirty minutes until you can get out from behind the cashier and into his waiting arms. He hasn’t seen you all day today and all he wants to do is kiss you breathless the second you get rid of that horrendous apron and cap. Jeongguk starts counting down from the thirty-minute mark, hoping time would tick by faster.

Behind the counter, Yoongi is still busy making one more drink while refusing your offer to help. It’s weird seeing your kindness being offered to someone that isn’t him, but Jeongguk supposes this time it’s strictly work-related as he knows Yoongi has been making all the drinks (except the last two that you did) ever since he sat down with his order. Though, it seems like the drink in his hand is not an order at all, because he gives the plastic cup to you instead of putting it on the counter for a customer to take. There’s an almost childish grin on your face as you sip on the drink, eyes lighting up as you shoot Yoongi a thumbs up. After you exchange some more words with Yoongi, Jeongguk watches as you skip happily to his table with your drink in hand.

You place said drink next to his cup of latte on the table before your hand reaches for his drink to steal a sip. “I just have to clean up and wait for everyone to leave, then we’re good to go.” You steal two more sips of the latte just because you can.

“Okay, babe, but I still want my latte, you can put it down now,” Jeongguk chuckles, watching you do as he says with a guilty smile on your face. But then your hand takes the little spoon that came with the brownie to cut a sizable chunk from his half-eaten treat, quickly plopping it into your mouth. “Finish your brownie so I can take the plate away to wash it.”

“Are you just here to steal all of my food?” Jeongguk jokes, no menace behind his words as he reaches up to thumb away a stray piece of brownie from the corner of your lips. “And you said you didn’t want anything when I offered earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you confirm, “stealing from you is just too hard to resist.”

Jeongguk would’ve continued the banter if not for Yoongi calling your nickname from behind the counter, signalling for you to get back to your job.

“Boss calls,” you say, sneakily stuffing some more brownie into your mouth. “Should get back. Bye!”

“He’s your boss?” Jeongguk asks incredulously, glancing at the mint-haired guy who’s still busy moving around behind the counter. “That young guy is your boss??”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” you wave your hand dismissively, turning to leave. “Don’t steal my drink!”

In true Jeongguk fashion, of course he steals a sip from your drink. He does it just to be petty that you won’t explain anything about Yoongi, but he’s also curious what the new menu tastes like. He doesn’t remember seeing any banner for a new menu when he entered the shop earlier, so he’s guessing it hasn’t gone on sale yet.

He scrunches up his face the moment the drink touches his taste buds, tasting the bitterness of coffee among the layers of other flavors. It’s not as strong as the americano he usually has, but he can still feel it linger even after he swallowed the drink. Definitely not the type of drink you’d order on your own, though, so why were you so excited to try this new menu?

Looking around the shop, Jeongguk’s gaze falls on Yoongi. You did say he was your boss, didn’t you? Could it be that this free drink is just a plot to use you as a guinea pig for his experimental weird recipes, knowing that you can’t refuse your boss? Was that why he refused your help earlier? So he could make the drink taste as bizarre as it is right now?

His eyes continue following your and Yoongi’s figures behind the counter, squinting them in distaste whenever he sees you laughing at something the mint-haired guy said. Your smile, your lowered gaze, your shy demeanor, all remind him of a feeling he thought he had buried a long time ago—the same feeling he got whenever you got a boyfriend in your adolescent years. Suddenly, Jeongguk feels fifteen all over again—a clueless doe-eyed boy who donned t-shirts in every color of the rainbow every day of the week and strutted like he owned the school just so you can see that he was cool, only for you to deny him of a Sunday together.

Those years have become a core memory for him that it inspired him to get one of his tattoos: Rather be dead than cool, because he realized the way to your attention was not by being cool, it was by just being himself. (Yes, the ‘him’ who showed up unannounced at your doorstep after two years and ended the day with you on his lap stealing all the breath straight from his lungs.)

Anyways, all of that doesn’t matter because currently, your eyes are not on him but on your mint-haired boss who’s busy grinning while washing some equipment. Why are you both smiling so much around each other? Do you have some kind of inside joke that’s so funny you can’t stop laughing? What is so pleasing about Yoongi’s presence that you keep beaming at him?

Jeongguk chews the straw of your drink in anger, not realizing that he has inhaled almost half of the cup’s content despite claiming that he hates the taste. Sipping on your drink has become an afterthought as he was busy analyzing how wide your smiles are while working with Yoongi and how friendly the shoulder and head pats you give each other are. It’s sickening.

Eventually, everyone else in the coffee shop left and you’re in front of him once again to get rid of the brownie plate from his table, whining when you see the half-empty cup in Jeongguk’s hand even as you’re chewing the rest of his brownie in your mouth. Fair trade, he says as you walk away with the plate and spoon in hand.

Not even five minutes has passed since you left his table, yet Jeongguk feels tired of being patient, taking your and his coffee cups in each hand before coming up to the counter. It seems like Yoongi senses his presence, because he looks up from the calculator app on the tablet in front of him to give Jeongguk a curious glance. Their eyes meet for a split second before Jeongguk moves his gaze past Yoongi’s shoulder to you, who’s still busy wiping down the counter. A knowing smile curves on Yoongi’s lips.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Yoongi turns towards you, the nickname still irritating to Jeongguk’s ears. “I’ll finish closing up, you can go. Great work today.”

“No it’s okay, I can help you mop the floor after I’m finished with the counter.” You don’t even look up as you wave him off, oblivious to Jeongguk’s presence and his increasing impatience in front of your boss. He clears his throat comically loud, making you turn around to see a frown etched on your boyfriend’s face and Yoongi tilting his head towards him with a small, almost teasing smile on his face.

“Oh.” You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay then. Sorry about him, Yoongi.”

“No worries, Kiddo.”

Yoongi’s nonchalant response is laced with a chuckle, which for some reason, upsets Jeongguk even more than the nickname he keeps calling you by. Is Yoongi not scared of him? Of his tattoos, of his muscles? Is he not intimidating? Can’t he feel the piercing stare Jeongguk keeps giving him ever since he walked into the coffee shop?

“You.” Your stern voice tears his hot gaze away from the mint-haired guy, whose focus is back on the calculator on his tablet to count the sales they made today. “I’ll clock out first then we can go. Please don’t do anything weird in the five minutes that I don’t have my eyes on you.”

Jeongguk follows your figure with his eyes until you disappear into the backroom, leaving him alone with Yoongi. Yoongi, the guy with the mint hair, whose surname he doesn’t even know, who is your boss that strangely have an endearing nickname for you. Things that stream steady questions into his head, about your initial meeting with Yoongi to the extent of your relationship with him. It’s the nickname he can’t seem to shake off of his mind, the way it rolls easily off Yoongi’s tongue, as if he’s been calling you that for years. Has he known you for years like Jeongguk has? Been through near-death experiences with you like Jeongguk has? Has he deserved the right to call you by a nickname like Jeongguk has?

“You can stop shooting daggers at my head, you know,” Yoongi’s low drawl almost makes Jeongguk think that he’s talking to himself, but the sentence is clearly directed at him. The older guy finally looks up from his tablet to look at Jeongguk in the eyes for longer than a second, no coffee orders to complete to interrupt their interaction this time. “Kiddo’s boyfriend, Jeongguk, right?”

As Jeongguk gives a nod to confirm Yoongi’s question, a hand is extended towards him to complete the introduction. “I’m Yoongi, Kiddo’s coworker-slash-boss.”

Jeongguk grips Yoongi’s hand with more strength than necessary, unintentionally flexing his muscles too. He thought that would be enough to tell Yoongi that Jeongguk is your boyfriend and he has no business being so friendly with you, but Yoongi only glances at his tattooed arm before letting go of his hand with a comment about how strong his grip is.

“Thanks, I do boxing,” Jeongguk mutters curtly, upset at the degree of nonchalance Yoongi is showing. He starts glancing at the door to the backroom where you currently are, wishing you would emerge right this second so he can go and doesn’t need to face Yoongi’s mint hair ever again.

“Yeah, Kiddo might have mentioned that a few times, just like she won’t shut up about your sleeve tattoos,” Yoongi says, going back to his tablet. “I used to box too, by the way.”

If you asked Jeongguk what Yoongi used to do, he wouldn’t be able to answer at all as he chooses to focus on the part where Yoongi said you won’t shut up about his sleeve tattoos and tune out the rest of his sentence. “My tattoos? What about them?”

“She said you have tons. Shoulder to fingertips. That’s how I recognized you when giving your order,” Yoongi answers lightly, which piqued Jeongguk’s interest even further. Wouldn’t it be fun to use this coworker-slash-boss of yours to get information about what you’ve been saying about him at work? What else does Yoongi know about him other than he does boxing and has a sleeve tattoo?

“Really? Does she gush about how hot they are to you, too?”

It’s not a question meant to be answered, its sole purpose to show off that you indeed gush to him about how hot his tattoos are. Though, if one thinks about it, why would Jeongguk need to boast to Yoongi about the compliments you give him about the strokes of ink on his arm? What business does Yoongi have knowing about it?

Yoongi seems to be unaware of Jeongguk’s inner dilemma as his face breaks out into a grin. “I think she’d be mad at me if I told you half the things she gushes to me about you.”

So you do gush about how hot his tattoos are to Yoongi. Interesting.

The fact that Yoongi insinuates there’s more to that is both endearing and terrifying to Jeongguk, because while he’s giddy that you talk about him with other people with so much enthusiasm, too much of it could end up in you sharing something about him that you should not have. Not to mention you’re sharing it with your boss, someone you should keep at an arm’s length when it comes to sharing about your significant others. One wrong move and he could use it against you.

Jeongguk is just about to ask Yoongi to elaborate further on his statement when you step out of the backroom, now out of the murky brown cap and apron and in a white t-shirt that looks like it belongs to Jeongguk. All thoughts of Yoongi knowing all sort of things about him evaporates right away, his mind focusing on how cute you look instead. If only Jeongguk doesn’t know basic human decency, he’d pull you by the waist to taste the mouth he’s been deprived of for the whole day, not giving an ounce of care about your boss watching the whole thing.

No, he’s a good boyfriend so he opts to pull you by the shoulders instead, letting your arms go around his waist before squeezing you in his arms. The kiss he drops on your cheek is chaste yet lingering, like he wants to let you know just how much he missed you. You tighten your arms around him in return, wordlessly saying the same thing back.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, not yet letting go of the hug.

“Ye—oh, wait!” You pull your face away from its initial position on Jeongguk’s chest. “You haven’t met Yoongi yet.”

“We did, Kiddo,” Yoongi waves you off. “You’re free to go. Your boyfriend here has been waiting long enough.”

“No,” you say, pulling away from Jeongguk’s hold. “I mean I haven’t introduced you two properly.” You gesture to the both of them back and forth as you say their names. “Yoongi, meet my boyfriend, Jeon Jeongguk. Jeongguk, meet my boss, Min Yoongi. His family owns this coffee shop.”

“That’s what you mean by proper?” Jeongguk says to you as he takes Yoongi’s hand for the second time that day, regular grip this time because you’re watching his every move like a hawk. “I didn’t know you own the shop. Nice place,” he nods to the older guy, releasing his hand.

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s, though. I just help from time to time,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You ‘just help from time to time’ but willing to dye your hair mint in honor of the new menu.” You nudge his elbow playfully. “Speaking of the new menu, did you finish the whole cup, Jeongguk? I’ve only had a few sips.” You frown as you bring the cup to your eye level, examining just how much of it is left. It’s an exaggeration, obviously, as the cup in your hand is still half-filled. But Jeongguk plays along, saying the reason why he inhaled your drink is because he’s tired from having just gone back from boxing.

“You have your own latte,” you point out, finally taking a much-deserved sip from your free drink. It still tastes okay, so you stop grilling Jeongguk about stealing your drink (even though you kinda stole his too, in the middle of your shift nonetheless.) “Oh, and did you know Yoongi also—”

Yoongi clears his throat loudly before you can finish your sentence. You look up from your drink, alarmed, afraid you might have said something wrong. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s and he gives you a tiny shake of his head, one Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s busy taking sips from his own cup of latte. (And because he’s more focused on you than Yoongi.)

“He knows, I told him I used to box too,” Yoongi says.

“You did? I didn’t catch it,” Jeongguk averts his eyes from you, turning to look at Yoongi. “Wanna have a match? I could use an opponent for my session tomorrow.”

“I said I used to, Kid,” Yoongi re-emphasizes on the two words. “I have a shoulder injury. It’s healing, but I still shouldn’t do too much to it.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Jeongguk!” A slap lands on his bicep courtesy of you.

“What? He said it’s healing!”

It’s only now that Jeongguk witnesses the exchange between you and Yoongi using only your eyes, yours looking frantic while Yoongi’s looking as cool as a cucumber. Maybe he should dye his hair a shade of green resembling a cucumber rather than a mint.

After watching you and Yoongi have a silent conversation for a minute, Jeongguk lets out a sigh as he takes the final sip from his latte. “It’s okay, babe, I was just kidding. It’s fine if Yoongi doesn’t want to have a match with me.” He throws the empty cup into a trashcan nearby. “It just means that he backs down easily from a challenge.”

You physically face-palm at his sentence, missing the way Jeongguk throws a challenging smirk Yoongi’s way. The older doesn’t seem fazed at all, instead letting a small smirk take over his features as well. “That’s not a really nice thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he drawls.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Just stating the truth.”

“Jeongguk, please stop,” you whine from behind your hands, still facepalming because you don’t want to become a witness in case this coffee shop becomes a crime scene.

“Alright, I’ll have a match with you,” Yoongi says finally, tone resolute. You peek out from the cocoon of your hands, glancing back and forth between your coworker-slash-boss and your boyfriend who are having a staring contest, both refusing to back down. “Tomorrow after my shift works? Kiddo here can take the same shift so she can watch us too.”

“Sure,” Jeongguk agrees without a pause. “It ends at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. See you then.”

Then Jeongguk puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the counter to finally go take you home as it’s the reason he came here in the first place. You hastily give your coworker a wave goodbye over your shoulder, getting a wave back accompanied with a laugh. Jeongguk uses the opportunity to steal yet another sip from your drink.

“Stop it! You’re gonna finish it all!”

“What even is it? It tastes really weird.” Jeongguk scrunches up his face.

“It’s mint mochaccino, you ass.” You pull the cup away from him, who chases the straw with his mouth while grinning wide. “Stop or I won’t kiss you until tomorrow morning.”

“Always withdrawing kisses when I need them the most,” he pouts, retreating from your drink to let you finally finish the cup yourself. “Can I kiss you in the car or should I wait until we get home?”

(Does not matter what you answer is, because he grips the back of your neck in the car to make out with you for five minutes, and then finish what he started in the safety of his room, under the blankets.)

“Are you sure you want to fight with Yoongi later?”

You and Jeongguk are back in his car, on the way to the coffee shop for you to start your shift and for Jeongguk to get his americano to kick off the day. His nod to your question is firm.

“Yeah. My coach said it’s good to train with an opponent sometimes.”

“You could’ve fought with your coach instead, then,” you point out.

“True, but—” Jeongguk tilts his head, sucking in a breath. “He’s the one who trained me, so he knows my fighting style and pattern. It’s good indeed, but it’s missing that element of fun.” He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, I want to know what your Yoongi is made of.” He casts a glance at you to see your reaction.

“What ‘my’ Yoongi, what are you talking about …” You heave a sigh, massaging your temple. It’s not even 9 AM yet but you can already feel a headache coming. Sometimes you wonder why you’re willing to date this childhood friend of yours, knowing all of his flaws and bad habits like this. Though it’s given you the advantage of being able to read between the lines of his actions, often you wish he’d just say things outright without you having to dig it out of him.

“You know, the Yoongi you work with? The Yoongi who gives you head pats? The Yoongi who has a nickname for you?” Jeongguk’s tone gets more annoying near the end of his sentence, almost as if he’s trying to get a certain reaction out of you.

“The Yoongi who owns the cafe I work at, which is the sole source of income I have?” you reply instead, refusing to give in to Jeongguk’s silent provocation. “Also, the Yoongi who used to box. I think you should keep that in mind when you fight him later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bet he wasn’t even that good.”

You manage to arrive at the cafe unscathed, only losing a tiny piece of sanity because your boyfriend couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Yoongi and his non-existent boxing skills (Jeongguk’s words, not yours.) It doesn’t help that the Yoongi in question is already standing behind the register, greeting you with a smile and throwing a lopsided smirk your boyfriend’s way. You don’t like the thick tension between them at all so you quickly slip into the backroom to let Jeongguk be a big boy for once and order his own americano for the day.

Stepping out of the backroom in your mandatory work apron and cap, you’re kind of relieved when you see the shop is still intact, not thrown upside down courtesy of your boyfriend and his inability to control his strength (and emotion) in the face of a threat (read: Yoongi.) Upon seeing you, Jeongguk pushes himself off the counter he’s leaning against before reaching for your waist despite your boss standing just a few feet away. The cup of americano on the counter tells you that you took too long in the breakroom, which if anyone asks, you’d justify with adjusting your work attire. In reality, you just don’t want to face your boyfriend and the sour look he has whenever he so much as glances at your boss.

“You can always cancel the fight with Yoongi, you know,” you murmur, biting your bottom lip in worry. “You could hurt him, he could hurt you … it’s not ideal.”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk purses his lips. “What’s not ideal is your boss having a nickname for you.” There he goes again, always having something to say about Yoongi. “Aside from it being highly unprofessional, it’s also inappropriate since you have a boyfriend and that is me. Jeon Jeongguk. I am your boyfriend.”

“Jeongguk, he knows,” you groan, fed up with the back-and-forth about this whole Yoongi thing. You don’t even know why your boyfriend is so threatened by the older guy when he’s a whole lifetime ahead of him. “It’s not even a nickname. You’re just seeing what you want to see.”

Jeongguk’s reply never makes it out of his mouth as he’s interrupted by Yoongi clearing his throat, making you both look at him tapping on his wrist to signal the time. It’s a reminder that you’re here to work, not to continue the argument that sparked in the car. Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your boss, sharing a hard stare with him before deciding to do something one should not do in front of their boss: dip down to kiss you, using your surprised gasp as a way to slide his tongue inside your mouth. In the five seconds he manages to tangle his tongue with yours, you completely missed the sound of the glass doors opening and the low whistle that came after, along with Yoongi’s chuckle and greeting to the person who just came in.

Shoving Jeongguk away by your hand on his chest, you try to cover your burning face with your other hand as an attempt to save your dignity in front of Yoongi, though you doubt it’s working at all. Jeongguk licks his lips then winks at you, squeezing your waist in his grip before stepping back to grab his cup of americano, now full of condensation sliding off the plastic cup. He takes a sip to taste test before scrunching up his nose.

“Could’ve been better,” he sneers, making you glare. “Alright, I’ll let you get to work. See you later, babe.” Then, after a second, turns to Yoongi to add: “you too.”

When Jeongguk disappears into his car, you put your head in your hands and let out the loudest groan known to man. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

The mint-haired guy only gives you a gummy laugh, eyes turning into crescents as he shakes his head. “Your boyfriend is really something, Kiddo,” he muses. “A really … fun early morning entertainment, you could say.”

“Entertaining it was!” You hear the voice first before you see the person, the one who must’ve come in when you were rather preoccupied with your boyfriend. Park Jimin, your other coworker, slides behind the counter in a brown apron identical to yours and Yoongi’s, just minus the cap. Good, that means he doesn’t have a bad hair day today and can take the position at the register instead of you. You could use some more time to learn to make the drinks, anyway.

“Didn’t know you and your boyfriend were such exhibitionists, Kim,” Jimin taunts you, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Although, if my boyfriend were that hot, I would have wanted to exhibit him too…” He purses his lips in an exaggerated manner of faux thinking, obviously trying to rile you up. “Lucky you, Kim.”

“Shut up, Park,” you seethe through your teeth, slapping him with a dish rag while he cackles happily. “We’re not exhibitionists. You just have terrible timing.”

“Oh, it was perfect I’d say, just in time to catch sight of his tongue going into your mouth—”

“JIMIN!”

When Jimin continues making fun of you by making gross kissing sounds, you turn to Yoongi for help. As the oldest amongst you three, he must have a sound solution to get Jimin to stop making those awful sounds and put you out of your misery. Although, your trust in him is probably misplaced as Yoongi just chuckles and tells you something your own mom would tell you whenever you’re telling on Jeongguk: “Just ignore him, Kiddo.” The sacred word of ignore. “Go prepare the breakfast pastries now.”

So much for sound solution.

You go about your shift as usual, with Jimin manning the register like you planned to. Time goes by quickly when you’re busy working (and when your coworker is Park Jimin) that you didn’t realize it’s almost time for your shift to end. You glance at the line in front of Jimin and see that there are still three more people he needs to serve, while you and Yoongi still have about five tickets to finish before you can clock out and leave. Scratch that, might be eight tickets to go considering the workers who have their shift after you aren’t here yet. It’s gonna be a while before you can see your boyfriend and be a witness to an unnecessary fight between him and Yoongi.

“Hey, Kim, where’s your boyfriend? Didn’t you say he was gonna pick you up from work?” Jimin nudges your elbow when he finishes taking one customer’s order, sliding a plastic cup into the queue in front of you. “I want to see just how hot he really is,” he continues while wiggling his eyebrows.

Before you can slap the guy with your dish rag again—it’s looking more like your weapon rather than a cleaning tool at this point—Yoongi pipes up from his position in front of the sink. “Just look for someone with a tattoo sleeve. He loves brandishing it.”

“Ooh, a hot guy with tattoos,” Jimin whistles. “Add some piercings and I might steal him away from you.”

“Jimin, quit drooling over my boyfriend,” you sigh, taking the next cup in line as your coworker turns back to the register. He’s already starting to greet the next customer when you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, sliding next to him to brew the espresso needed for the order you’re making. “He has one on his lip, but he’s mine. Note that, Park,” you whisper to him while he’s keying in an order, earning a light chuckle from the man.

“He’s just messing with you, Kiddo, don’t mind him,” Yoongi chuckles from beside you, eyeing Jimin whose focus is currently on the cup he’s scribbling a customer’s name on. “He has his eyes set on someone else already.”

“Gossiping, aren’t we?” Jimin turns to you and Yoongi with a sleazy smile. “Careful now, unless you want Hoseok to know about your hot boyfriend too, Kim.” He gestures to the glass doors, where Hoseok from the next shift just walked through. He’s a great guy, but you’ve only shared a couple shifts with him, so you think you haven’t got to the point of sharing about significant others.

With the mention of Hoseok, you and Yoongi move to finish the orders you have left before handing over the shift to the aforementioned man. When all your orders are done and you’re ready to head to the backroom, you turn to ask Jimin to go with you only to find him still rooted in front of the register. “Jimin, you’re not going?”

“Oh, I’m actually covering for Eunbi.” Jimin shrugs, sliding a cup into Hoseok’s line of orders. “Go, Kim. Have fun with your boyfriend,” he grins, sending you a teasing wink.

Hoseok, a clueless witness, looks at the both of you with a scandalous stare. “What, what, what did I miss? Why are you winking like that, Park Jimin?” he says, urging Jimin to elaborate while pouring drinks into a plastic cup.

“You should ask her, Hobi,” Jimin snickers into his hand as he turns to greet a customer. Hoseok turns to you, his expression hopeful that you will shed light on the reason behind Jimin’s wink.

“My boyfriend is about to fight with our boss and I don’t know how to talk him out of it,” you say through your teeth, giving an overly-sweet smile to a confused Hoseok. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to meet him and make sure he’s not gonna bite Yoongi’s head off.”

“Bye, Kim,” Jimin sing-songs, waving his hand to you. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

You’re already walking away, turning to tell Jimin off when you bump into Yoongi who’s just came out of the backroom, void of his work apron and ready to go. He grabs your shoulders to turn you around, pushing you into the backroom to prevent anymore banter between you and Jimin. “Let it go, Kiddo.”

In the backroom, you catch a text from Jeongguk saying that he’s already in the coffee shop, ready to go when you are. You emerge from the room after clocking out, moving your feet to the dining area of the cafe while waving to Jimin and Hoseok behind the counter. Scanning the room, you search for a familiar mop of black hair that belongs to your boyfriend.

It’s easy to spot Yoongi’s mint hair amongst the sea of other natural-colored hairs. What’s not easy is believing your eyes when you see the person sitting in front of Yoongi waving wildly at you, grinning like a mad man. It’s your boyfriend, the person you’re supposed to see after work, the person you’re supposed to supervise when he fights your boss later, alright, that part you know. The part that you don’t know and have a hard time believing is:

Jeongguk’s hair is mint.

Not black, not brown, not the experimental half-half he tried in high school. Mint.

The exact same shade as Yoongi’s.

It feels like you’re on autopilot when your feet carry you to their table, jaw on the floor while your eyes are stuck on Jeongguk’s freshly-dyed strands.

“Hi, babe,” your boyfriend has the audacity to say, lips stretching impossibly wider. He reaches up to run his fingers through his mint hair, an act so deliberate even Yoongi sighs at the sight of it, but it makes your heart skip a bit nonetheless. “Do you like my new hair?”

The light green strands previously tangled with his fingers fall back to cover his forehead and frame his face perfectly, the light hue somehow blending well with Jeongguk’s skin tone. It also accentuates his jaw more, making it appear sharper when the grin on his lips morphs into a smirk once he notices that you can’t stop staring. Oh, that smirk. Usually hot with his previously black hair, it is now lethal with his mint hair, toeing the line of playful and dangerous at the same time.

You want to scream at the obvious and cheesy question.

Yoongi, the third person who’s been watching the entire interaction unfold before his eyes, clears his throat. “If you’re done eye-fucking your boyfriend, can we go now? I have somewhere else to be after this.”

“Yoongi!” you whisper-shout, half scandalized, half disbelieving that your boss can say something so crude in the middle of his own buzzing coffee shop. Maybe he’s been hanging out with Park Jimin too much. (Or maybe he’s just sick of you drooling over your boyfriend time and time again … yeah, maybe that.)

“Can’t wait to lose to me, Min?” Jeongguk snickers, taking your hand in his as he follows Yoongi—who pointedly ignores his taunting question—towards the glass door of the coffee shop.

You catch Jimin’s eyes as you’re stepping out, his eyes rounding in surprise before a sly smile takes over his features. Have fun! he mouths, giving you a wink. Ugh, you’re gonna face a lot more questions the next time you have a shift together with him.

After another futile attempt at talking Jeongguk out of fighting with Yoongi, you’re seated where you usually are, on the sidelines of Jeongguk’s gym, this time with heightened anxiety out of fear that your boyfriend and your boss could hurt each other. You’re worried less about the physical part—boxing is a very physical sport, after all—and more about the mental part.

Boys are full of pride, full of ego. They pride themselves on their ability to box, delivering punch after punch until their knuckles bruise. They pride themselves on their muscles, bulging biceps that took years to build and maintain. They pride themselves on their strength, how they are able to hold you up against the wall when you’re busy sucking air off each other’s lungs.

Oh, and in case it’s not clear, by boys you mean Jeongguk.

You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend, of course, but knowing Yoongi’s boxing skills, no matter how long ago it was, the outcome of the fight today could just be the one that would hurt Jeongguk’s pride. The possibility of it happening is so high that you’re already preparing yourself for when Jeongguk comes back to you with his ego bruised. God, you can only hope Yoongi won’t hit too hard.

You’re too busy thinking of the many possible outcomes of this fight that you don’t realize when Jeongguk is back from putting his gloves on and warming up, now standing in front of you. “Wish me luck?” he says, along with a toothy grin your way.

“Yeah, good luck, Ggukie,” you reply, lacking your usual sarcastic bite. Jeongguk seems to pay no mind to it, though, ducking down to peck your lips before turning around to face his opponent for the day.

You catch Yoongi’s eyes when Jeongguk has his back to you, quickly mouthing don’t hurt him! to your boss, which he only responds with a smirk. All the blood drains from your face. Looks like your worries about someone getting his ego bruised won’t be just worries after all.

When the fight has started (Jeongguk’s coach started it—you’re grateful he’s there because then you don’t have to worry too much about Jeongguk and Yoongi beating each other to a pulp), you can’t help but watch. You just realize, in the years you’ve known Jeongguk and watched him box, you’ve never actually seen him fight anyone else other than his coach. He’s said before that he only took boxing as a way to work out, not to actually fight, so you guess that makes sense.

You don’t watch boxing matches a lot (actually, you don’t watch them at all), your only knowledge of boxing you get from watching Real Steel, a movie about boxing matches for robots, set in the far future when human boxing is not interesting anymore due to the limited brutality. You’re not sure how much information you retained from the movie, and how accurate they are, but you’re pretty sure you don’t need much boxing knowledge to know that right now, Yoongi is playing defensive while Jeongguk is playing offensive.

Alright, you admit, you have no idea if the terms you’re using are right, but it’s the simplest ones you can use to describe the sight in front of you. Since the start of the fight, Jeongguk has been throwing punches continuously, while Yoongi has had his gloved hands covering his face the entire time. Okay, not the entire time, but he’s only thrown one punch compared to Jeongguk’s one hundred ones.

As the fight goes on, Yoongi starts throwing punches here and there while still dodging Jeongguk’s aggressive fists. You’ve never seen Yoongi move this much in the entire time you’ve known him, and it surprises you how agile he is. The way he ducks under Jeongguk’s arm and throws him off balance is admirable, sometimes a little bit funny (just a bit, you promise) because it shows just how calm he is compared to Jeongguk’s aggressive, almost-angry boxing style.

When Jeongguk’s coach declares a break, your boyfriend walks back to you with his brows furrowed, tearing off one of his gloves so he can remove his mouth guard and grab his water bottle. After chugging down half of its content, Jeongguk heaves a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t grasp his fighting style,” he grumbles to himself. His eyes are set on Yoongi, who’s on the other side of the room, drinking from his own water bottle. “Who the fuck ducks all the time while boxing?”

“Maybe it’s because you keep throwing angry punches at him, babe,” you say, initially to keep his frustration at bay, but instead it makes him raise his eyebrow at you in a duh way. You backtrack immediately. “Okay, okay. But it’s just your first time fighting him, isn’t it? Be patient, Jeongguk, and maybe let up your punches a little bit?”

“Baby, it’s boxing,” he says exasperatedly. “Someone has to throw some punches.”

“I know, but you just seem so … angry. Yoongi’s only ducking to dodge that. I’m saying maybe you can tone it down so he could stop dodging, so then you can see his fighting style better.” You’re saying this while gripping his biceps, hoping your words can go through his seemingly-clouded mind. “When you see his fighting style, won’t it be easier to figure out a way you can beat him? Isn’t that what you taunted him with at the cafe?”

You know it’s not even remotely possible to learn one’s boxing style just from a single fight, let alone “figure out a way to beat him”. Somewhere in his fogged mind, you believe Jeongguk stores this fact as well, he’s just currently too deep in frustration to place it in the front of his mind. You’re not even sure your suggestion to learn Yoongi’s fighting style is registered well in his head, considering your boyfriend is now back to eyeing your boss with fire in his gaze.

“Jeongguk?” You give his shoulder a firm grip as he puts his mouth guard back on. “Tone it down. Yoongi could just be waiting to punch back. You don’t want that.”

Jeongguk parts ways with you with an absent-minded nod and two pats to your head with his heavy gloved-hand. On the other side of the room, Yoongi looks ready to go back into his fighting stance. You sigh internally. Jeongguk is so going to punch him aggressively, again.

The next thirty minutes of the fight goes like a blur in front of your eyes. Jeongguk throws a hook that Yoongi dodges, Yoongi retaliates with a jab to Jeongguk’s side which makes you wince, rinse and repeat. Maybe you’re wrong about your boyfriend for once, you think, seeing his calmer fighting style now. With the way he left your conversation minutes prior, you really thought he was gonna continue raining punches on any part of Yoongi’s body he could reach. You’re relieved that that’s not the case.

Although, perhaps your relief came too soon because a boxing match isn’t over until it’s over.

Watching Jeongguk fight with Yoongi is like watching a cartoon character with an energy meter atop his head, except for Jeongguk, it measures his patience instead. As the minutes went on, you feel like you could see the patience meter above his head depleting until it’s all gone, and that’s the moment he went back to his initial fighting style: aggressive and angry. You almost pull your hair out in frustration because you just know that this is what Yoongi has been waiting for ever since the fight started.

The next thing that happens reminds you a lot of one fighting scene in Real Steel, where Atom was waiting for his opponent to run out of energy so he can fight back. In the movie, Atom knocked the other robot down with a final uppercut, gaining him a win and advancing him to the next round. Well, uh, in this case, just replace Atom with Yoongi and the other robot with Jeongguk.

Yoongi’s clean uppercut wiped your boyfriend out, who’s now lying on the ground clutching his face—which you’re sure is beginning to swell right now. Despite already knocking Jeongguk down, Yoongi is still in his fighting stance, never lowering his guard even as Jeongguk’s coach counts to ten. Your boyfriend remains immobile, though, and the second the count is up you’re running towards Jeongguk’s limp body.

“Gguk, are you okay? Baby, look at me,” you say hurriedly as you try to pry his arms away from his face. He doesn’t budge, and for a second, you’re scared that Yoongi has maimed your boyfriend for life. “At least let me know you’re alive,” you continue when his silence becomes concerning.

“Hmmph,” Jeongguk grunts. You heave a huge sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to offer some comfort even though you know he had this coming. Gigantic ego, big talk, cocky as shit? Yeah, you understand that Yoongi would want to knock him down a few pegs. But now is not the time to launch into an ‘I told you so’ spiel, not when Jeongguk is still freshly bruised—both his body and his ego.

So instead, you lash out at your boss.

“I told you not to hurt him, Yoongi,” you snap-slash-whine, a frown on your lips. You thought, as the oldest among all of you, Yoongi could be trusted to knock some sense into Jeongguk’s mind without physically hurting him like this. As it turns out, all boys are the same.

The older guy just shrugs. “Probably wouldn’t get my point across if he weren’t knocked down.” He shakes the sweat out of his hair as he starts taking off his boxing gloves. When he sees you’re not impressed, he chuckles. “Relax, Kiddo, I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’ll be okay.”

“Really, Yoongi?” You roll your eyes. “You gave my boyfriend an uppercut just to prove a point!”

Yoongi just continues laughing as he chugs from his water bottle. His nonchalance about this is starting to piss you off. Maybe it’s your turn to put on the boxing gloves and sock him in the face, give him a taste of his own medicine. You scoff to yourself, picturing your own body lying next to Jeongguk if you really did that.

“Just tell your boyfriend here that there’s no need to be jealous of me, Kiddo,” Yoongi says, picking up his bag. Just then, Jeongguk’s coach appears with an ice pack in his hand, offering it to you so you can place it against Jeongguk’s swollen jaw. Despite your attempt to coax him out of his arm cocoon, he still refuses to move.

“Yoongi, look at him, you really broke him.” You’re flat-out whining now, kicking your feet like a child. It doesn’t even occur to your mind that you’re all still in the middle of a public boxing gym, with other people around you, being witness to this ridiculous scene.

“Oh my God,” Yoongi laughs before crouching down at Jeongguk’s legs. “Hey, Jeongguk, you hear that? Your girlfriend is worried about you,” he says, nudging Jeongguk’s leg lightly. “She only has eyes for you and your tattoos, too, you don’t need to be jealous at all.” You smack him on the shoulder for that.

Jeongguk finally removes his arms from his face at Yoongi’s words, his doe eyes menacing. “Go away,” he grits out at the older male, his scratchy voice making him sound less threatening than he intended. Despite that, Yoongi still holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Yoongi relents, standing up while adjusting the hold he has on his bag. “Was gonna go anyway, I have a date to get ready for,” he throws a grin your way. “Alright, I’ll be going first. Take care of your boyfriend, Kiddo.”

Yoongi retreats with a wave towards you both.

Jeongguk lets out a groan, shifting your attention away from your boss who’s already backing his car out of the parking lot. “Quit your job tomorrow,” he says. “I hate your boss.”

“Stop moving around!”

“It hurts!”

You’re both back at Jeongguk’s house now, with you sitting atop his outstretched legs on the bed, attempting to take care of his battle wounds courtesy of his fight with Yoongi. Aside from the swollen jaw, Jeongguk has a cut on his eyebrow and a split bottom lip. For a boxing match, you’d say these are minor injuries—proving Yoongi’s words right, he didn’t hit Jeongguk that hard—but your boyfriend is acting like a baby. He keeps jerking his head away every time the alcohol swab comes in contact with either of his cuts, it irritates you to no end.

“You have a goddamn full sleeve of tattoo and a lip piercing, quit acting like this hurts more,” you hiss, pressing the cotton in your hand to the cut on his lip as Jeongguk hiss back in response.

“At least when I got my tattoos and piercing, the artist didn’t do it while yapping my ear off,” he lisps through the cotton. “What happened to the caring girlfriend at the gym? Did she go away too, alongside Yoongi?”

“Oh, shut up, if I yapped back there Yoongi would’ve stomped on your ego more than he already did, do you want that, Jeongguk? Huh?” Your words are harsh, but you try hard for your hands to be the opposite, gentle as they cover the cut on his eyebrow with a band-aid. Jeongguk’s forehead is still damp from his quick shower earlier, beads of mint clinging to his skin. He might look smoking hot with his newly dyed hair, but the way the color rubs off on anything is starting to get onto your nerves. You wipe lightly at the color to make sure the band-aid sticks to his skin and does not come off the second he jumps around again.

“My ego is fine, you don’t need to protect it like this,” Jeongguk grumbles, adjusting the ice pack he’s holding to his jaw as you press a new cotton ball on his lip, discarding the one stained crimson red to his bedside table. “Maybe if you care about me as much as you care about my ego, everything would’ve been better.”

The way he’s rambling like he got his sense knocked out of his head as well makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t test me, Jeon. If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here sitting on your thighs patching your minuscule injuries like they’re fucking wounds from a war.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk half-agrees, a pout on his lips. “But you haven’t kissed me even once ever since the fight ended. Do I not deserve a kiss because I lost? Do you not want to kiss me ever again because I can’t beat Yoongi in boxing? Do you think Yoongi is way better than me now? Do you want him to be your boyfriend instead of me?”

With every nonsensical question, his pout deepens, and his eyes droop to stare blankly at nothing.

“Hah, ‘my ego is fine’ my ass,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you turn the gears in your head on how to stop the bleeding on Jeongguk’s lip. It keeps gushing out blood, and you can’t exactly stick a band-aid to it like you did his eyebrow. At last, you just hold a cotton ball against it and hope it stops bleeding soon.

“Yoongi was right, you know,” you say clearly now, the tumble of Yoongi’s name out of your lips making Jeongguk glance up and focus his sight on your face. “You don’t need to be jealous of him at all. Heck, you don’t need to be jealous of anyone, Jeongguk. I’m your girlfriend and will always stay your girlfriend, no matter what. You don’t need to beat anyone in boxing or dye your hair the exact same shade as anyone for me to stay. You, Jeon Jeongguk, are enough.”

Jeongguk’s eyes, gazing into yours, are glassy with unshed tears. You don’t know if they are there because he’s touched by your words or are leftovers from crying over his bruised ego from the fight with Yoongi. Either way, it throws you off balance. Next thing you know, you’re being tugged down by the nape for a kiss.

Jeongguk’s lips are warm, like usual, but the tinge of metal you taste on your tongue is making you worry. Before you lose yourself in his kiss, you pull away to thumb at his lip lightly, seeing streaks of red on your skin. You’re about to continue pressing the cotton ball in your hand to his lips and stop all forms of kissing immediately, but your boyfriend has a mind of his own as he instead sucks your thumb into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit delicately as he holds eye contact with you.

Gone is the trace of any tears from his eyes, now replaced by something you can only identify as lust. As flattered as you are that Jeongguk finds you desirable in your current situation, it also makes you confused. He’s hurt and the only thing in his mind is getting his dick wet? Unbelievable.

The ice-cold feeling on your waist tears your attention away from Jeongguk’s dark eyes as you yelp, hand instinctively prying the cold thing away. The ‘thing’ turns out to be his hand, which was previously holding the ice pack to his swollen jaw. He’s sneaked his fucking cold hand under your shirt to hold your waist when he should’ve kept holding the ice pack to his jaw—his swollen jaw!

Your boyfriend has a swollen jaw, a busted lip and a cut eyebrow. This is not the time to be screwing around.

Pulling away your thumb out of Jeongguk’s mouth at the speed of light, you attempt to climb off his lap, but he’s read your mind even before they are conjured up in your own brain. His hands are back on your waist—yes, the cold one too—and they hold you firm in place. The side of Jeongguk’s lips turn up into a sickeningly sweet smile, before he tugs your body towards his, making your hips come in contact with his crotch. He’s hard. Oh, fuck.

“You know, I never really understood why you’re so bratty whenever you’re horny and I can’t tend to you right away, but I think I get it now,” he says right by your ear, making a shiver run down your spine. “I’ve been trying to will away my boner ever since you sat on my lap, but your weight on it is so damn distracting, it’s hard.”

“So,” he punctuates the word with a kiss on your neck, “I started saying anything to get my mind off it, but the way you care for me just … turns me on even more, if that was even possible.” He noses his way down your throat, coming to a stop at your collarbone. “And then all that talk about how I am enough … holy shit, I lost it. All I could think about was how I want to kiss you and fuck you into next week on this very bed.”

You can barely hear the last few words Jeongguk is saying, because he’s mumbling them into your skin as he peppers kisses and nips there. His fingers are now pressing into your back, pulling you closer and closer to him until there is no space left between you. You crane your neck so he can have more room to splash reds and purples onto your skin, sighing to the top of his mint head.

“You know, for someone claiming to be horny, you’re doing a terrible job at dirty talk,” you jab at your boyfriend, earning you a bite on your neck and a tightened grip on your body, making you close your eyes with stuttered breath.

“Easy, babe,” Jeongguk chuckles. “You talk as if you won’t be a moaning mess by the end of this,” he continues with much confidence. “But also, my lip is still kinda bleeding and my sides are still throbbing from the bruises. Kinda debating should we continue or just go to sleep.”

“Jeon Jeongguk I swear to God if you leave me high and dry—”

“Maybe you should kiss them better,” he cuts you off with a suggestion, his lips still trailing butterfly kisses on your neck and collarbone. The hands still on your back sneakily climb up and up until they’re reaching for the clasp of your bra, easily opening it to free your breasts from its confines. Your sound of protest gets stuck in your throat as a strangled moan comes out instead when Jeongguk massages your breasts tenderly with his fingers.

“Maybe I would—fuck—if you get rid of your shirt,” you say, tugging on the offending piece of fabric still covering your boyfriend’s gorgeous body. It’s not fair that he’s got you half naked already and he’s still fully clothed.

Jeongguk parts himself from your body long enough to tug his t-shirt off from the back of his neck in one smooth motion, exposing the golden expanse of his skin to your hungry eyes. If you thought his mint hair was smoking hot with his shirt on, it’s literally burning a flame of desire deep in your belly with his shirt off. You’re tongue-tied as you marvel at the sight in front of you, you almost jump when your own shirt and bra are taken off your body.

Now both bare from the waist up, Jeongguk wastes no time leaning back in for a kiss on the mouth, this time open-mouthed so he can slide his tongue inside. You keen happily, slipping a sigh in between as he slowly lowers you to the bed. Jeongguk anchors his hands on your hips, teasing at the waistband of your sweatpants as he keeps your mouth busy with his own. In contrast, your hands are everywhere, from his broad shoulder to his firm back, from his bulging biceps to his rock-hard abs. You even tease your fingers past his waistband, grabbing onto his ass and squeezing, making him groan hotly into your mouth. It’s only when your fingers brush against his sides that he winces, reminding you of his earlier request.

“Flip around,” you whisper against his lips, “so I can kiss your bruises better.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk hums, your words a murmur in his head. “But I like having you like this. Under me, naked, panting, wet,” he says, slipping his hand beyond your sweatpants to prove his words right—you’ve soaked through your panties. He drags a finger slowly up your center. You shudder.

“Yeah? I can be naked, panting, and wet on top of you as well.”

“Ooh, tempting.” Jeongguk licks his lips. He flicks your clit with a cheeky smile dancing on his lips, before settling his hands back on your waist. “Alright, I’ll flip over.”

The next second, you’re staring at him from up top, admiring how his mint hair looks against his dark grey bed sheets. Although, his hair is the least of your concern right now, as you’re tugged back down for another bruising kiss. Now that you’re on top, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to return the favor that is slipping his hand into your pants to squeeze your ass, but his version involves pulling your hips down while his thrusts up, creating a delicious friction between your body that makes you exhale a moan into his mouth.

You move away from his lips, down to his jaw where you take care to land a kiss light as a feather, before moving to his neck and collarbone where you have your own share of bites and licks. Aside from your infatuation with his tattoos and biceps, you actually have another one with his collarbone, this one you keep secret from him lest he goes around the house shirtless more often just to brandish his clavicle. But maybe he’s already noticed from the way you always make sure to cover that body part of his in blooms of red and purple, taking care to trace each and every bite mark slowly with the tip of your tongue.

While you’re busy with his collarbone, Jeongguk keeps dragging your crotch steadily over his, like he can’t get enough of the feeling and wants to keep chasing it. The delicious pressure on your center is a bit distracting, so you smooth your palm across his chest to pinch at his nipple in warning. Jeongguk lets out a broken whine from his throat.

“Stop humping into me, do you want to cream your pants?” you chide, fingers still giving tiny pinches to his nipple to keep him on his toes.

“Was trying to get you to cream your pants,” Jeongguk grins guiltily, his hips snapping up yet again to collide with yours. Even if you roll your eyes at his antics, you still continue your journey of kissing down his body, making sure to suck and lick on his sensitive nipples. You love the moans and groans that slip out of his throat every time you do things to his nipples. He likes it so much that his hips keep chanting up, searching for friction, that you have to pin them down so you can slide down to pepper kisses on his abs and waist.

Jeongguk works really hard to maintain the body he has, clearly evident in the eight pack he’s sporting on his stomach and the tiny, minuscule waist that’s way too slutty for a man to have. Sometimes you’re jealous of how nice his body looks, how firm it is to touch. You told him this one time, along with your regret that you couldn’t give him a similar experience, but he’d only laughed and said that admiring and appreciating him was enough, before proceeding to show you how he admires and appreciates your soft body (he kept biting into your inner thigh as he was eating you out, coaxing you into four orgasms back to back that day.)

And so, you admire his body by kissing the taut muscle one by one, tracing the lines outlining them with your hot tongue, caressing his bruised waist with the pillow of your lips and the feather of your touch. You know he’s hurt, but you can’t hold yourself from nipping on his slutty waist, gifting him another bruise that’s not a result of a punch. From the choked sob that rips out of his throat and the jump of his dick somewhere on your stomach, you take it he likes the bite.

“So,” you say as you mouth at the seam of his waistband, hand massaging his hard cock through his pants. “Do you want to cum in your pants, in my hand, in my mouth, or—?”

“Fuck, in you, please,” Jeongguk begs, eyes glassy from your ministrations. “But can we go back to dry humping for a while? Kinda like the friction on my sweatpants,” he breathes.

“Like this?” You move your hand up and down his cock, dragging the material of his sweatpants with it, paying special attention to the head. With every rub of the sweatpants against his head, a bead of precum comes out, with Jeongguk throwing his head back in silent pleasure. “Yeah, fuuck, that feels good.”

“But babe, want you, on top,” he demands, making grabby hands at you. “Was serious when I said I wanted you to cum first,” he continues, sighs in content when you oblige, resuming your position on top of him and lining your clothed crotch with his. He starts dragging your hips against his, building the pleasure up the faster he goes. “Want to fuck your swollen pussy, dripping with cum. Oh, I’ll slide right in, no problem, so wet, warm … fuuuck.”

The grip Jeongguk has on your hips is bruising, you have no choice but to let your body be manhandled by him. Slowly but surely, the band inside your stomach begins to tighten as your hold on his shoulders does as well. You’re so close, just one more move to tip you over the edge. When Jeongguk sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, the band inside you snaps and you come with a jerk of your hips and a whine from your throat.

Jeongguk slows down his move, taking care not to cum before being inside you, before stopping altogether and wrapping his arms around you to bring the both of you into a sitting position. Your limbs feel like jelly, still trying to come down from your high, when Jeongguk pecks your cheek before carefully lying you back down on the bed with your face down. He then maneuvers himself behind you, lifting your hips off the bed. You’re starting to have an idea what position he wants you in when he spreads your knees and slowly peels back your pants and panties to reveal your bare ass and pussy.

He takes his time caressing the globe of your ass, inching his fingers towards your pussy lips before spreading them apart, tearing a low whine from your chest. You guess he’s admiring the way cum still drips out of your cunt, because he’s silent, immobile for almost a minute.

“Gguk…” you whisper out. “You gonna fuck me or not?”

Jeongguk scrambles to get his pants off. “Fuck, yes, of course, baby, you just look so beautiful like this, I want to stare all day long,” he breathes, lining up his dick with your entrance.

God, I’m so thankful you’re mine, is his last warning before he slides home in one thrust.

Later, when you’re both freshly showered and cuddling on Jeongguk’s bed—with blue bed sheets this time, because you forced him to change the sheets as the grey ones smelled gross after your activities—you ask him a question.

“Are you still jealous of Yoongi?”

There’s a three second pause before Jeongguk’s answer comes. “Maybe a tiny bit,” he says, nearly connecting his thumb and forefinger together in a ‘tiny’ motion. “Of his boxing skills only. Amazing how he could still move like that with an injured shoulder. I want to be like that too.”

“You want to injure your shoulder?”

He gives you a flat look. You giggle.

“His shoulder is actually healed, you know, so he’s still actively boxing until now. He trains the boxing club at my campus whenever our coach can't, that’s where I know him from and how I’d gotten the job at his cafe.”

Jeongguk purses his lips. “So he lied to me.”

“Hmm,” you agree. “I figured it was to ‘teach you a lesson’, that’s why I asked him not to hurt you before your fight. Did you, though? Learn your lesson?”

“What? To not be jealous of him?”

You pinch his waist. “To knock your ego down a peg and stop feeling insecure whenever I interact with other men?”

“Baby, the guy had a nickname for you. My insecurities were valid!”

“You mean the ‘Kiddo’ one?” you ask. Jeongguk nods. “He calls Jimin Kiddo. He calls Eunbi Kiddo. He calls you Kiddo. He calls everyone younger than him, Kiddo.”

More silence ensues.

“So … my jealousy was for nothing?”

“Yes! What I’ve been saying!”

Jeongguk giggles. Then he kisses you. Then he giggles again, while still kissing you.

“How about an apology?” he offers.

“In what form?” you challenge.

“Round three?”

“No.”

Well, at least he’s not jealous anymore.

a/n: thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think of this, i literally almost cried in the process of writing it and when i finally finished it :') and yes this started because of that one mint jeongguk in memories 2020/2021, i think? the one with him in a black sleeveless and a pair of sunglasses, hahah. wish he'd dye his hair mint again (he looks rly good in it ugh)

→ request is open for my 1k folls celebration!

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muchosbesitos · 28 days

Text

congratulations

i bet on losing dogs (part two) series masterlist

pairing: college miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: one year age gap, angst (?), smut, unprotected sex, doggy, and mentions of masturbation (m) pls lmk if i missed anything 🥸

synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.

author’s note: DADDY’S HOMEEE 🗣️ anyways so i sorta based this off mac miller’s song ‘congratulations.’ i hope y’all aren’t tired of me posting angst 😪 (i haven’t forgotten ab the poll btw 😭)

word count: 6.3k

The sun don't shine when I'm alone

Miguel was stuck in a cycle of getting together with Dana, spending a couple months of bliss by going on dates with her and exchanging sweet gestures to having a messy breakup over something completely minute. It was toxic, he could admit that much to himself. But he didn't wish to stop it. If his own mother couldn't provide him with love as a child, why should he expect for someone else to love him?

He was an anomaly.

Or at least, that's what he's been led to believe for most of his life. A being that was incapable of being loved properly, of being the odd one out in every situation he was in. From being the tallest one in every single room he stepped in (often having to crouch his head) to being the black sheep of his family.

He stayed with Dana as a method to prove to himself that he was worthy of loved by someone, even if it wasn't expressed in the healthiest of ways. But even he was starting to get at his ending point. "No, I told you about a week ago that robotics was starting back up again and that I'd be busy with the meetings," Miguel explained for what seemed to be the thousandth time this week. Think about the good moments.

"So are those meetings more important than spending time with me now?" Dana's voice was starting to get annoying to his ears, the tiny whine in her voice starting to irritate him. He was sure she was putting up that pout that she thought got him weak at the knees every time he saw it. Really, he only ended up relenting to whatever she said so he couldn't have to see that awful expression on her face for much longer.

"No, they're not. But just try to understand that I have different interests outside of this relationship. We can go out this weekend if you want to do that," he was running out of options to keep her happy. It seemed like the more that he wanted for this relationship to work, the more that she kept slipping away from his fingers. "It's just.. I don't know if I want to be in a relationship where my needs aren't being seen."

She'd be back within the week. Maybe even less if she got up to that point of loneliness. She'd come back over to him with an apologetic smile on her face, expressing how she was willing to forgive him for his past transgression. "It's okay, I know you get busy sometimes but as long as you're willing to change, I want to give this another shot," she'd whisper in his ear, the two making up in an empty janitorial closet. An exchange of empty promises slipping from Dana easily forgotten with the heat of the moment.

He came back home from a robotics meeting that had run late, a small sigh escaping his lips as he stepped inside. There was no one to welcome him as he stepped in through the door, no one to ask him how his day had gone at school today. "How'd your day go?" he asked out loud, pretending that it was his mother's voice instead of his own echoing through the living room. "It was good, thanks for asking," he felt like a fool for talking to himself, rolling his eyes as he set down his bag on the couch.

Or at least, he'd thought he was alone. He heard two voices coming from the basement, his brother's and someone else's. He made his way downstairs, his eyes widening slightly upon the sight. The spaceship model that he'd spent every available second of last week building was now crumbled by a basketball. Gabriel's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, moving closer to Miguel as you stood in the corner.

"Look, we're sorry. The game got out of hand," Gabriel started off but he released that all his attempts to apologize would be futile upon seeing the glare Miguel was shooting in his general direction. "So if you knew, why'd you come downstairs to come play?" Miguel answered back quickly, seeming to have his comebacks ready at any moment. Part of you started to feel guilty, needing to take some kind of responsibility for this as well.

"Hey, it's not his fault. I'm the one who suggested that we play down here," you could sense the tension from a mile away, deciding to ease the situation a bit. Even if that meant you had to take the fall for Gabriel's mistake. You could see the gratitude in Gabriel's expression upon seeing you walk over to them. "So? That doesn't change the fact that my project's still in shambles."

And almost as if on cue, one of the pieces that was barely hanging on fell to the ground with a dramatic thud. You could see the vein on Miguel's forehead get closer and closer to popping the more he looked at the remnants of what was otherwise, a perfect model rocket. The only reason the two of you had even come down here in the first place was because Gabriel wanted to show you the design that his brother was working on.

You'd expressed some interest in wanting to join the stem club at school, but you eventually decided against it after seeing that it was majorly ran by guys. Guys that had a reputation for being overwhelmingly misogynistic. You decided it'd be better not to join and just wait until next year, if you even wanted a chance of getting your ideas being heard out.

Most of them didn't even bother to listen to you outside of school so you didn't delude yourself into thinking that being in a club would magically change that. As much as you really wanted to join.

So you settled for observing from the outside, walking into the robotics classroom when it was deserted to look through the different parts modeled and the different things that were presented. And occasionally, Gabriel would let you sneak a peek at what the club president, Miguel, was up to.

"I can help you with the project if you want," you suggested, hoping that it would detonate the situation. The two brothers had been on thin ice since Miguel managed to get with Dana, leaving you to comfort Gabriel as he cried about the loss of his girlfriend. Miguel's face relaxed instantly, his gaze flickering over to you instead. "I'll do it myself. You'd probably just end up messing it up," his tone came out cold, dismissing the two of you out of the basement.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice with a blade. You stepped away from the table where the model rocket had once been set up, choosing to go stand by Gabriel instead. You would've figured that was the last of the discussion but you heard Gabriel mumbling underneath his breath as he headed out. Miguel's ears instantly perked up, his teeth gritting against one another. "You have something you wanna say to me?"

Miguel had practically given Gabriel a loaded weapon now. The two of you collectively knew that Gabriel wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. But maybe Miguel just wanted to keep the argument going? You weren't completely sure how this family dynamic worked at all. "Pinche amargado," Gabriel spoke up, a scoff escaping from Miguel's lips. (fucking bitter)

"Amargado porque tu no puedes dejar mis putas cosas en paz." (bitter because you can’t leave my stuff alone)

"Igualito a ti, cabron. Tu con Dana y yo con tus cosas." (just like you. you with dana and i with your stuff)

"Vete a la puta v-"

Their voices rose with each retort that they gave one another, the two almost at a brink of yelling at each other. You looked around to try to create a diversion, opting to just flicker the lights on to see if they'd calm down. You didn't have much hope in your strategy but Miguel fell silent after the lights had been turned off. Two pairs of eyes were directed towards you when you turned the lights back on, both expressing some form of disdain.

"Look, it was my fault for ruining your project so allow me to take some kind of responsibility and help you rebuild it. It's not going to be done on time tomorrow if you do it all by yourself," you spoke up after they both had a couple seconds to calm down, reluctance visible all over Miguel's face. Though, he seemed to be actually considering the possibility now. His brows furrowed as he stayed quiet for a couple seconds, eventually huffing out what sounded like a 'fine.'

"Just call me when you're done here," Gabriel relented as he walked over to the basement door, paying once last glance to you over his shoulder. You nodded to his words, looking back over at Miguel. He was already hunched over his desk, starting to take out the pieces of the rocket that had been affected. Maybe you'd get lucky and he wouldn't continue with his angry rant?

I see your eyes look through my soul

The two of you worked in silence for the most part, a couple mutters escaping from Miguel as he worked on taping the pieces back in their correct order. "Irresponsables," he muttered to himself, gluing one of the small pieces together. He wasn't too keen on having you around, his body turned away from you as he worked. But yet, you also had some kind of urge to help him out after you'd aided in the destruction of his project.

"How'd you get into aerospace?" You decided to break the ice and ask a question, looking up from the piece that you were assembling back together. His expression seemed to lose the original intensity that it once held, his body relaxing in the rolling chair he was in. "I didn't. I pursued robotics at first and then there was this competition to build rockets. I started to learn about them, about the different space missions from the past and eventually my interest grew from there."

You nodded along to his answer, going back to working on the piece you were reconstructing. His gaze travelled over to where you were working, a bit surprised by how well you were doing. He'd expected for you to make an even bigger mess of the situation and excuse it with 'just trying to help.' "Are you into aerospace as well?" You hadn't expected for him to actually engage in the conversation but it was a question that you liked getting asked about. While most of the conversation revolves around aerospace, you couldn't deny that he was fun to talk to.

"If you like it that much, you should join. A couple members apart from myself are graduating this year and a couple chairs are going to open," he noted, handing you a wrench to tighten a bolt. You tightened the bolt, grabbing one of the nuts that scattered through the floor when the wing fell off. "I'll think about it," you told him, though your voice held no conviction towards it. He wouldn't push the topic further but he could see just how excited you were to be working on the project.

So much that you didn't even demand to be credited as one of his partners for the project.

Much as he hated to admit to himself, he found that it was quite nice to spend some time with you. Especially when it came to do something that he enjoyed doing. It was a sharp contrast from his time with Dana, going from having surface level conversations about each other's day. Maybe a relationship shouldn't have to involve so much work? Maybe every conversation didn't have to end in a fight after all.

Instead of trying to fix things over with Dana by following her like a lost puppy, he decided to fix things up with Gabriel. Because a part of him secretly wanted to see you again. The modified rocket ship had gotten a couple compliments from the other members, some of them even claiming that it could go to nationals. He wasn't completely sure if they were sucking up to him for a recommendation, but he knew that you'd appreciate the feedback.

So, he decided he'd stop being so strict with Gabriel and lend his stuff over whenever he asked. To which he got a couple of surprised looks and hesitation at first. The next step in the process was for him to work out an apology. But how does one exactly go about apologizing for stealing a partner? Especially when said person had brought up concerns to feeling inferior in every shape and form to himself? He'd dug himself into a hole he had no idea how to get out of.

Miguel awkwardly stood in front of Gabriel's room as he heard the thud of a couple tools inside, his younger brother being more into mechanics than robotics. He decided to swallow the last bit of pride that he had, stepping inside the threshold. He could sense the surprise seeping out of Gabriel as he sat down next to him, grabbing one of the screwdrivers. The two worked in silence for a while, working in perfect synchrony as they focused on building an engine.

"I'm sorry for what happened with Dana, by the way. I know it's not worth much but I am. I shouldn't have taken your trust for granted and I shouldn't have done that considering how you feel about me," Miguel spoke up after they were getting close to finishing, looking over at Gabriel. He saw a frustrated expression all over his brother's face, something that he wasn't particularly used to seeing. "You know, you keep saying what you shouldn't have done but the fact remains that you still did it. But thank you for that apology, I guess."

Miguel started offering to take the both of you to places, choosing to tag along just to hear your laugh whenever Gabriel would make a joke. Even if he wanted to be the one telling you these jokes. "Hey, what do you call a Drosophila who likes to drink?" he decided to break the silence as he drove you two to the movie theater, looking over at you through their rear view window. "What do you call it?" You decided to indulge in his 'joke,' if his attempt could even classify as that. "A bar fly."

You let out a laugh more so out of how bad it was, your eyes crinkling as you did. The look on Gabriel's face made the laughter escape from your lips much louder. "Can't believe you're actually laughing at those bad jokes," Gabriel muttered, staring at you like you were a creature from outer space. "Shut up before I leave you on the side of the freeway," Miguel called out from the front seat, biting back a smile of his own upon seeing that he'd managed to make you laugh. Maybe it was worth it looking for those corny science jokes last night.

Miguel had quickly forgotten about the void he was trying to fill with Dana, only reminded of it when he saw her leaning against his car. Her glossy lips were wrapped around a lollipop, her brown hair combed back into a bob. All he could think about was all the dirt she was probably getting on his car now. "You haven't answered any of my calls," Dana whined as he approached, getting off his car to go over to him. "For good reason," Miguel grumbled, opening his car door to toss his backpack inside. He could see Dana trying to scramble for some kind of logical answer, a slew of curses thrown his away once she realized what'd he meant.

The cycle was done. They were done this time, for good.

"How come you're not out at those graduation parties and stuff?" Gabriel mused as he took a bite out his burger. "You think he's type of person to get invited to parties?" You decided to tease Miguel a bit, taking some of his fries before dipping them into ranch. No he wasn't. Not that he'd ever admit that to you though. "The scent of weed just irks my nose, man," Miguel responded, a small scoff coming from the younger brother in response.

Empty cans of beer and articles of clothing washed up to the surface of the bay, the sight making you grimace in disgust. But this was where Miguel had decided he wanted to go after graduation. "I'm gonna head to the car, it smells like ass out here," Gabriel told the both of you, tossing the final rock he had in his hand out into the water before walking off. To be fair, it really did smell like ass. The contamination from the water and the ships around mixed in together, overall just providing an unpleasant scent.

"I'm gonna head back too," you told Miguel, starting to get up from your spot. Before you had the chance to dust yourself off properly, Miguel had stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just wait a second, please. There's something that I have to ask you," he seemed fidgety, looking everywhere else but you as he talked. You stayed silent, giving him the chance to speak whenever he was comfortable enough to. "Do you want to go out on a date with me?"

He was starting to prepare himself for the upcoming rejection, making a mental list of all the songs he'd add to his breakup playlist later on. He'd probably end up blasting those at full volume in the basement while taking out his anger on a model robot, bracing himself to ignore the yells from Gabriel coming up the stairs. "Yes," the words didn't register in his mind at first, his eyes drifting over to your mouth as he made out the syllables.

Wait, what?

"You're actually being serious?" he had to ask. Had to double check that this wasn't a prank or something that Gabriel had set you up to as some kind of revenge for what he did with Dana. Then again, Gabriel hadn't exactly mentioned anything about you towards him. Not that they talked a lot nowadays, but he figured that Gabriel would've at least expressed some kind of concern if he knew. So.. there was really only one possibility left.

You actually wanted to go out with him.

The time that the two of you spent together that summer was much more than the time you actually spent apart, from going out to exploring different museums to different science conventions. Your main concern had been how Gabriel would take it, not wanting to overstep your boundaries as his best friend. "Be careful, okay?" was all that he said when he saw you walking out of Miguel's room with a borrowed shirt on. Gabriel was more concerned about you than Miguel throughout this exchange.

The transition to when the school year started was difficult, given that the two of you had somewhat conflicting schedules. Despite all this, Miguel was sure to schedule a minimum of two dates for each month. Miguel was determined to put the effort into making this relationship work now that he managed to get with you. He'd make sure to pull all nighters the day before he had a date with you to get his assignments done on time, wanting nothing more but dedicate the time designated to you fully.

You didn't know who else to call when college decisions went out, choosing instead to call Miguel. You knew he'd been swamped with lectures and research essays as of late, but you didn't want to share this moment with anyone else. Not when he was the one to calm you down with each mini panic attack you got after hitting the 'submit' button on your applications. "Hola princesa, what's up?" his voice drawled out like the sweetest honey, your breathing slowly starting to calm down.

"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you too much but I was wondering if you could come over. College decisions came out and I can't get myself to click through the messages alone," you told him, your leg bouncing as you awaited for an answer. "I'll be right over. I'll bring some burritos," he answered, the line clicking to an end shortly after. You waited with anticipation for the doorbell to ring, practically jumping off your bed when you did hear it thirty minutes later.

"Just open it, I'm sure they accepted you. They'd be dumb not to," he sat down next to you as you scrolled to the last one you had left to open. The one you'd saved as an attempt to keep your hopes up from being too high. You had four acceptances, two from out of state and two in Nueva York. "I can't. What if I just have my hopes up?" you had your face hidden behind your hands, your words coming out muffled. "Even if they did reject you, it's not the end of the world. Just look for yourself."

UC Berkeley had been more of a reach school for you, the other four being your safety nets. Your grades hadn't exactly been up to perfection but you held out the hope that the extracurriculars you got involved with and the volunteer service you did was enough. As well as the robotics credential that Miguel encouraged to go after. You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself down before clicking on the letter. The words blurred together as you read through it, a bunch of gibberish registering in your brain. Miguel had his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing small circles on it.

The touch was slowly bringing you back to earth, your breathing starting to calm down. You didn't have to say anything, he just knew what you needed before you even had the chance to realize that you even needed it. You directed your attention back to the monitor upon calming down, reading over the letter. "I got in!" you exclaimed as you look over at Miguel, his hands immediately wrapped around you. "I told you so. They'd be stupid not to have you in their school."

They'd even offered you a scholarship! The only downside was that it was in California.

The thought hadn't even registered in your head when you were applying for a spot, the only thought in your head being that of fulfilling what you wanted. You looked over at him, the same look of realization upon him as he saw 'Berkeley, CA' almost taunting him through the screen. The idea of doing long distance wasn't something you were quite fond of, given the fact that it just seemed like a slow way to prolong the fact that the end of the relationship. And yet, you didn't really want to break up with him.

"Would you stay in Nueva York if I asked you to?" Miguel knew he was being selfish by asking this, he knew that he had to let you go and pursue what you wanted to do. But he didn't want to. He wanted you to stick by his side and pursue your dream here. "I would stay if you did. But I think a part of me would also end up resenting you for asking that of me," you responded, your hand tightening its grip slightly around him. It was a gesture meant to comfort him but your words carried more weight than that simple squeeze did.

He knew how much you wanted to go, he'd been there when you filled out the application. From the process of setting your information in the system to reassuring you that you were qualified enough to get in, despite how much his heart ached at the thought of having to be without you. "It was just a hypothetical. I wouldn't ask you to do that for me," he quickly told you, taking a bite from his burrito to busy himself with doing something. Your happiness was much more of a priority than his own.

You were inclined on just leaving without saying goodbye but the thought of him thinking you abandoned him was almost too much for you to handle. You ran over to his house after you'd finished packing, hoping that he hadn't gone back to campus yet. "He's upstairs," Gabriel told you upon taking note of your sweat covered forehead, his nose scrunching up. "Thanks!" you called out as you made your way inside, almost tripping your two feet when you rushed up the stairs.

Baby, you were everything I ever wanted

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Miguel asked you, his lips barely grazing above your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips move down to your neck, his lips parting as he kissed the side. "Yeah, I'm sure," you responded after you managed to regain your composure, your head lolling back to give him more access to your neck. He took that invitation eagerly, his lips pressed on every inch of your neck that he could access.

His teeth sunk down just hard enough to leave a mark on your skin, his way of making sure that you'd remember him. At least for the following week that the hickey lasted. He'd settle for that much. The night never progressed from a couple heated kisses exchanged between the two of you, a wanton need keeping your bodies pressed against one another. For a moment, it was as if nothing else in the world really mattered. You were just two people, not college students that would inevitably have to talk about what their future would be.

"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you. It's better if we just end things here," Miguel spoke up in the middle of the movie the two of you were watching, a boring scene from a movie about how robots took over the world. As if you weren't living through that now in the year 2079.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for the time together," The breakup had been amicable, easy. There were no harsh feelings between the two of you, only simple understanding that the relationship wouldn't work out if the two of you dragged this on. However, as friendly as it had been, that didn't stop you from shedding a couple tears when you got home to finish packing. You almost wished he had given you a reason to hate him so that it would replace the sense of yearning you felt at the notion of leaving him behind.

That was supposed to be the end. You'd go on about your life without having to be around Miguel again, Without feeling his beefy arms wrap around you in the mornings as an attempt to keep you in bed for a little longer, or having his lips pressed against your forehead whenever you needed a bit of reassurance. That was until you found yourself in his bed when you came back to Nueva York to celebrate Gabriel’s birthday. It was the only time you allowed yourself to come back.

How Miguel allowed himself to fall into another cycle, he wasn't sure. Maybe because this one wasn't beaming with red flags. Or maybe because this one didn't leave him feeling like an unlovable mess the next day. Despite how many times he told himself that he wouldn't repeat what he'd done with Dana, he still found himself picking you up from every trip at the airport. Then again, this wasn't anything like the situation with Dana. Your relationship with him was healthy, you were good for him.

You'd usually end up at Miguel's apartment rather than your hotel room for most of the nights. The pent up frustration that had accumulated throughout the past year was unleashed on another, the sex all just that much more intense. "Couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again," he whispered against your skin, the words turning you into putty in his grasp. His kisses could follow soon after, his touch almost burning with how much desire he'd pent up. "Oh? And what were you planning on doing when you did see me again?" he would spend all night giving you the answer to that question.

On most occasions, you'd end up with your face buried in a pillow while he fucked you from behind. Your muffled moans would fill up the room, combined with the sound of rustling sheets underneath you as your grip tightened. "I missed you, princesa," he bent down to whisper in your ear, his lips trailing down your shoulder blade. The action in itself was sweet enough, but you couldn't focus on that with the way that his cock was stretching you out. "Missed you too," you barely managed to babble, your voice coming out hoarse.

Your hips rocked back into his, your ass jiggling with every thrust that he made. The grip he had on your hips would tighten, his balls slapping obscenely against your wet cunt. Your walls would clench around his cock, milking him for all the cum that he had in his balls while simultaneously coating his length with every drop of your slick that you could offer. "Fuck, right there!" he could make out a couple words of what you were saying from time to time, but he couldn't help but want to tease you about it. "Yeah, right here?" he mocked, his rhythm never faltering.

You were so drunk off his dick that you didn't realize he was mocking you half the time, simply nodding in response to whatever he told you. "Yeah, right there!" He loved the way your voice rose whenever his finger came down to play with your clit, the way the nub throbbed beneath his fingers for some kind of stimulation. These little breathy moans that you were letting out, the whispers of his name, they'd all remain imprinted in his memory as material whenever he needed some kind of release. That is, until the following year when he would have new material to work off of.

Miguel loved the way you looked whenever you were excited to share something with him or the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him at the airport waiting for you with a bag from your favorite fast food place. But the way that you looked whenever you unraveled underneath him was something that just simply couldn't be topped. Your legs shook violently as your orgasm approached, your walls tightening all that much more around him before unclenching to coat his cock in your release. His orgasm would follow suit, his cum filling up your cunt up to the brim.

Despite the fact that the two of you were completely able to and sometimes were even encouraged to, the two of you stayed loyal to one another even if this arrangement had no need to. As much as you wanted to try dating someone else, you knew that in the back of your head you'd just try to find Miguel in another person. And that you'd ultimately end up disappointed by the end of the affair. The two of you provided a sense of comfort in one another that wasn't easily replicated by another person. Or at least, you hoped that he felt the same way about you.

And as much as he tried, he couldn't get his hand to simulate the same pleasure that he felt while fucking you. It felt like a cheap replacement if he was being completely honest. His fist couldn't clench around his cock the way that your walls did, pulsing as your cunt milked him for all it could. His spit couldn't compare to the way your slick coated his shaft completely, the loud squelch that bounced off his walls whenever he pulled out. As pathetic as he felt for being looking forward to your yearly appearance, nothing could give him the same satisfaction you did.

You came back to Nueva York with a mission this time around. The office that you'd been working at after getting your degree had expanded throughout most of the east coast, a shiny job opportunity appearing right at your doorstep. You were going to tell Miguel that you planned on staying this time around, that you wanted to rekindle the old feelings you'd both been trying to suppress. You'd even resorted to practicing what you were going to say to him while you were on the airplane instead of clicking on one of the stupid Hallmark movies available on the flight.

Bought a wedding ring, it's in my pocket

You'd practically been bubbling with anticipation for the entire plane ride, different thoughts of how Miguel would react rummaging through your mind. Would he be excited? Would he leave the party to be with you? You felt all the breath leave your lungs as you stepped inside the party hall, your attention immediately going to Miguel. He wasn't wearing something too fancy, a white button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. Even then, you couldn't lie to yourself that he looked like sex on legs.

You set down the small gift bag you'd brought over for Gabriel, a new set of tools you heard him mention he needed on a FaceTime call last week. You made your way over to Miguel, a small smile appearing on your face as a look of recognition flashed across his features. "Hey," you greeted him once you were close, your hand up in a wave. Before he got the chance to say something, a woman came over to the two of you and handed him a drink before remaining by his side.

"Are you one of Miguel's friends from around here?" you asked the woman, given the fact that you hadn't heard any mention of her from Gabriel.

"Uh, no. This is actually my fiancée, Tempest," Miguel spoke up for the first time this night, your eyes widening as you did a double take on the pair standing in front of you. They'd even color coordinated their outfits tonight.

You could've sworn your heart dropped to your chest at the word fiancée. You forced your face to remain neutral despite the conflicting emotions rummaging inside of you. Your gaze flickered over to the woman, her ring finger accentuated with a pretty silver band, an expensive-looking diamond plastered right in the middle of it. Your throat constricted the longer that you stared at the ring, the sight eventually blurring into nothing until you forced yourself to look away when she pulled her hand back.

Your mind began to swarm with different thoughts, wondering when exactly did Miguel find the time to get engaged. Last year when you saw him, he hadn't even mentioned having any sort of commitment towards anyone. It was funny, thinking about it now. He'd taken you to the airport, his head tilting down to give you a small kiss on the cheek as he bid you goodbye. "I'll see you next year," he told you before you went through airport security. Now you wish you would've went back to his apartment instead of back home.

"Nice to meet you," you forced the words to roll out of your mouth, an unnatural smile taking place on your face. The type of smile that had your cheeks hurting from how hard you were forcing it. you shook her hand with just a little too much force before reminding yourself that it wasn't exactly her fault. If anything, this situation had been your fault. your fault for being so used to this comfortability, of the knowledge that he'd always be here waiting for you.

You'd gotten so used to coming to Nueva York to find Miguel at your beck and call that it didn't even cross your mind he would find someone. Someone who prioritized his happiness as much as he prioritized theirs. "Nice to meet you as well, Miggy here's told me a lot about you," she responded with a warm smile, unbeknownst to the internal struggles that rummaged through your head. Miggy? He'd gotten so pissed off when you called him that, but now he was acting casual about it?

"You mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to me about?" Miguel's voice broke you out of your train of thought, making you realize you'd just been standing there awkwardly for a couple seconds. You looked away, the sight of him too painful to bear. Just the fact that the woman's arm was wrapped around his, the intimacy of the situation reminding you of what you'd never have again.

"Never mind, just forget it. I hope the two of you have a good time at this party. Congratulations once more," despite the fact that you had a million questions regarding the situation, you decided that it would be better not to ask them. At the end of the day, a couple questions wouldn't change the fact that he was still engaged. You forced yourself to remain polite before excusing yourself to go to the drinks table. You really needed to get fucked up right now.

You felt pathetic as you stood alone in the corner of the room, your fingers gripping the glass of beer as if it was your lifeline. All you could do was look out into the people smiling and having fun, a part of you wishing that it would be you instead. You tried your hardest to pretend when Gabriel came around, trying to dance with you, but the ploy fell through as soon as he dragged you to the dance floor. Your eyes met Miguel's for the first time that night, a flash of concern across his features after seeing your attempts to hide your pain.

But maybe, if you would've looked hard enough, you would've been able to see the same sense of longing lingering behind his eyes.

tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop

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rensblade · 5 months

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𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.

⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩

“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”

the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.

to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.

“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.

said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.

“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.

you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.

“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.

eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.

he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.

“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.

he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”

that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).

you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.

he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.

jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.

to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.

as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.

“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.

what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.

rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3

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lila-went-missing · 4 months

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Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!

Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!

I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.

This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.

My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home

Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader

For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.

Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.

Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.

It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.

You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.

Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.

Oh gods. You thought.

You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.

Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Clar.." You whisper.

She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.

"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.

"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.

On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.

She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.

"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.

"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.

You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.

You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.

"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.

She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.

"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.

"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."

Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.

A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.

"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.

"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.

"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."

"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.

"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.

Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue x reader #x reader #percy series #percy jackson disney+#clarisse pjo #hurt/comfort #light angst #fluff #one shot #clarisse x reader #clarisse is bae

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 9 months

Note

Hi! I’d like to request hcs for Vox (HH) with a fem sugar baby s/o ^^ (sfw and nsfw pls!)

A/n: Ugh, I love you sm 🫶 I feel like everybody needs a man like Vox in our lives yk

Warnings: Sugar Daddy- Sugar Baby relationship! Brief mentions of Alastor because I live for that man, mentions of jealousy, smut at the end, headcannon - story format, vox is needy per usual, LMK if I missed anything! NSFW Under the cut!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Vox is probably one of the best sugar daddies out there

like he will drop PAYCHECKS on you for no actual reason

he loves spoiling you, like he genuinely finds so much happiness in spending money on you

I feel like he died before he could have a real relationship with someone, so even something like this is good for him

he’s definitely the first one to catch feelings, because of that fact he’s never been with anyone seriously

he’s had fuck buddies and one night stands but never something real, even if what you two have is more of a bank transaction

He really does care for you, round the clock security, nice apartment, lavish clothes and accessories

he really spares no expense, whatever his baby wants, whatever baby gets

however, he doesn’t pay for you to have sex with him

he truly doesn’t feel right doing it, at that point he might as well hire an escort

he does take you on lovely dates though, so much so you feel like your actually dating

he’ll send you pretty flowers with little notes, telling you what outfit to wear for your dinner that night

NSFW BELOW

back onto that telling you what to wear that night, he definitely buys you pretty clothes to wear just so he can take them off

he loves buying you dresses to show off your ass, more specifically anything that covers just enough, may the angels bless you that you don’t need to bend over

his favorite thing about you is your tits personality

yes i headcannon vox is a boob guy so what get over it

truthfully though, he loves everything, so there’s not much to worry about there

he doesn’t care what you wear, he can fight and will if anyone even THINKS about trying to take you home & if he sees you giving anyone else the time of day it’s over

“I saw you, giving those stupid fuck me eyes to that radio bastard. Think I didn’t notice?”

He asks, though it’s not like you can really speak. He’s been upset the entire car ride home. You don’t answer, too annoyed to say anything. “We’re just friends.” Is all you reply with, and he scoffs.

“Just friends? Just friends don’t eye fuck each other y/n.”

He says almost as if it proves a point. “Yeah well, you know our kind of relationship. I’m not exactly tied down to you.” You reply nonchalantly. It bothers him how much this hurts his feelings, because he knows your right. Truthfully, he couldn’t be more wrong. You weren’t his to get jealous over. You weren’t his to love that way. You weren’t his emotionally.

But financially you were. That was enough for him before, but was it now?

“You’re right.”

He says, pulling into the driveway of his house, which is large in itself.

“Come inside.”

He says, getting out of the driver seat and walking around the car to open your door. You get out with a sigh and follow him into his home. It was always nice, black and white tiles with hints of blue. The foyer was anything but small, quite large. It had a fountain in the center with a chandelier above it. He truly was living the life. All he needed was you.

“Y/n, I need to ask you something.”

He said, taking you by the hand and leading you to his bedroom, which you’d seen multiple times. You feel nervous, stomach doing backflips of uneasiness as you walk with him. “Yes?” You ask, and when he opens the door to his room you feel a bit better. He probably just wants sex, nothing new right?

“Do you think…”

He pauses, and he thinks for a moment. You can tell he’s nervous too.

“ Do you think I could make you happy? More than with my money?”

His question takes you aback. You had always liked Vox, but for anything more? It was almost like a trick question. What did he mean? “Possibly. If I got to know the real you.” You reply, and he looks to you almost shocked.

“Real me?”

He asks in disbelief. You laugh and walk to his bed laying on it, you begin to take your heels off. “Yes, the real you. Not the Vox everyone else sees and knows. The one you keep to yourself.” You explain, and he feels his dead heart beat quicken.

“Would you like to know the real me?”

He asks reluctantly. You two stare at each other for a second, before you inhale. “Yes… yes I would.” You say, and he’s slower in his walk towards you. As gently as possible, as soft as he can, he reaches for you, gently pulling your face towards him to kiss you and he does. It’s a soft kiss, tender, and passionate. His hands are slow traveling down your arms to rest on your waist.

The real him is soft. Calm. Well-mannered. He tries his hardest not to be like his friend, it bothers him the way his escorts leave in tears. His hands caress you softly, moving to undo the zipper of your dress as he deepens the kiss. The zipper slides down easily, and his kisses trail from your cheek to your neck, leaving hickies wherever he can. The dress drops and pools at your feet, and he takes a moment to admire you.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect.”

He says, and he means it. He truly does. Because he’s fallen in love with you. He moves closer to you, kissing you again while his hands go to undo the back of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. He doesn’t pool away as his hands cup your breasts, and he feels proud when he hears your moan.

“You’re so pretty, so perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He kisses into your shoulder. He pushes you back onto the bed, laying you down carefully before moving his hands down your sides.

“Let me show you how ‘real’ I can get.”

#vox x reader #helluva boss vox #hazbin hotel vox #vivziepop #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin hotel smit #helluva boss smut #isuckatwritingsobenice

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rintoshis-archived · 2 months

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— 𝓓octor's 𝓸rders. ♡ ft. 𝓩ayne from love and deepspace

SYPNOSIS. Curiousity kills the cat. But, there's someone who's just too irresistible to not explore. You dive head first, but ended up getting played by your own trap. Your curious paws dabbled into restricted areas. Ah, so this is what happens to the cat. Doctor Zayne didn't have any time for this. But... He went overtime. WORD COUNT. 1.1k words PAIRINGS. Zayne x Reader WARNINGS. semi-public sex, office, creampie, fingering(f receiving), handjob, kissing, spitting, semi-clothed, p in v sex, no protection (wrap it before you tap it pls), binding of hands (using hands) lmk if there more! OTHER NOTES. hi :) eenjooyyy

''Are you done? You've been plaguing me like a virus.'' Zayne complains, setting his cardboard clipboard atop the paperwork scattered across his desk. He takes off his stethoscope and places it somewhere far from the mess. ''No.'' You reply shortly, pulling out the chair from the front side of his table. You heard him sigh, making you want to bug him further.

''You're awfully hyper today. You should go bother someone else.'' He said, pressing the power button to turn on his high-tech computer. A digital screen appeared before his eyes, reports flooding his vision. His left hand massaged his temples, finding a way to ease the sudden twinge of pain.

''I'm not hyper. I'm just... Curious.'' He didn't pay you any more attention, his hands scanning the papers stacked on the right side of his desk. ''About what?'' His eyes didn't meet yours, instead, kept busy with the written words on paper. ''What really happened to Angelo's district? I won't believe anything the news says unless it's from you.''

''What does Angelo have to do with you?'' He muttered with a hint of hesitation. He grabbed a pen from a cup, signing away on the mountain of papers. ''He was a good guy, you know.'' ''Is that why his district got terminated?'' You sat up and finally poked the answer out of him. Your eyebrow raised from his quick response, and you didn't seem to understand it.

''Maybe it was his team's fault.'' He frowned, a quiet reply to you. You can't read Zayne. No matter how long you've been friends for, you'll never truly know what's going on in his head. Your eyes catch his stethoscope, an old sticker you lent him before was still stuck onto it, and you smile. You reached over to grab it, but his hands caught yours.

''What are you doing? I told you to go bother someone else, right? Our appointment was over 46 minutes ago.'' He finally locked eyes with you, his brows still furrowed. You swat his hand away, getting your hands on his stethoscope. Your hands made work to tuck your hair behind your ears and put on the two earpieces.

You stride closer to the busy Doctor, the stethoscope in your hand. ''Say... If you were asked how many hearts you listened to, how many would you say?'' You turn his chair to face you, and your hands cage him in his seat. Your free hand finds the rhythm of his heart on his chest, eager to listen to the music playing in his body.

''About a thousand now.'' He says under his breath, letting you do your experiment on his body. ''I'm not a practice doll.'' A piece of hair falls in front of your eye, but Zayne takes it and tucks it behind your ear. His hand rested on your cheek, and a heartbeat played in your ears as his fingers rubbed shapes on your skin.

''Do you hear it?'' He asked, and you nodded, the calm serenade of his heart made yours sync up to his. ''Of course, I do.'' The hand on your cheek pulled one earpiece out, and he leaned into your ear. ''Do you hear how much it's yearning for you?'' Your hands shook on his chest, but his hand trapped yours, keeping it steady. ''Behave, Doctor.'' He whispers, placing a kiss on the bottom of your ear.

You crawl into his lap, longing to be closer to him, as if your hearts were magnetized to each other. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, your hands still remaining on his chest, raising up and down, matching the tempo of your rigid breathing.

His hand let go of yours, traveling under your shirt, finding your heart like you found his. Your warm skin contrasted to his cold temperature, a small flinch from the small contact. He laid his palm onto your chest, feeling your heart through his hand. ''Are you nervous?'' He asked, and you frowned. ''Stop asking me stupid questions.'' You reply, and he chuckles.

His other hand swiftly unbuttoned your shirt, and while you tried to take off the stethoscope, he stopped you. ''Keep it on.''

Luckily, you didn't wear anything troublesome today. He took off your pants and your shirt, keeping your undergarments on. ''Still inspecting me?'' You mock him, but his hands travel across your body, teasing you back. ''I have to make sure all patients are healthy.'' You cringe at his words, but you smile at his attempt at flirting.

His hand tugged on your panties, setting it aside to gain access to your wet cunt. You nestled your head deeper in the crook of his neck, the air getting warmer by the second.

You let out a whimper when his cold hands massaged your needy clit, rubbing circles on it while you tremble for him. Your hearts are practically touching each other now, your chest against his. ''Zayne...'' Your hand paws at the zipper of his slacks, pulling down his boxers to let his cock spring free. You spit on your hand, putting work into pleasuring him too.

He lets out a small groan, he can feel your clit twitch, while he holds you tighter to his chest, making you feel his heart race for you. He slides two fingers inside you with ease, immediately getting coated with your arousal. You moan at the curl of his fingers, withering by the second.

''Zayne!'' You try to keep your voice down, while his hand continues its assault on your pussy. ''Fucking beautiful.'' Your hole tightens from the crisp sound of Zayne cursing in your ear. His hot breath tickled your ear, inching you closer to cumming on his fingers. Your hands were still on his cock, making sure you two cum together. ''Cum for me.'' He said.

You close your eyes in anticipation, your orgasm creeping closer and closer until you let go. You let out heavy breaths, your body tired from the pleasure waving your body. His hands grabbed your waist, slamming you on his desk. He took the stethoscope from your ears and put it on himself. He rubs his cock on your cunt, teasing your entrance.

''Can I?'' He asks, and you moan in desperation, taking it as consent. He pushes himself in, feeling the tightness and the wet coat of your arousal around his cock. He takes both of your arms and places them above your head, locking them both as makeshift handcuffs. His free hand places the stethoscope on your chest, listening to the fast beat of your heart.

You were a moaning mess, not caring enough to notice the stethoscope on your chest. ''Zayne.. I'm close!'' You warn him, and he whispered in your ear, ''Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me hear you scream for me.'' You whimper loudly, a new wave of overstimulation washing over your senses as you cum on his cock, soon following you.

''Come visit me more often. You know where to find me.'' He says.

:D ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2024 do not copy

#ㅤ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི ⟢ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃﹒ㅤ #@fusaes #love and deepspace #love and deepcpace x listener #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne smut #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #zayne x reader #Zayne love & deepspace

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leclerced · 7 months

Text

what happens in vegas | mv1 cl16

Summary: Charles and Max finger Charles’s fwb in a limousine while her and Max are standing through the sunroof driving through Vegas

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Warnings: messily written while high and tired, don’t read if you’re under 18. also this would never realistically happen but i’m a slut for unrealistic fantasies

Author’s Note: idk how i feel about this i wrote it after trying and failing to fall back asleep after waking up, and i wrote this rq then didnt know if i liked it enough to continue so pls if u like it and want more lmk if i should continue!

They were in Vegas, her best friend Charles had invited her to the city for their inaugural race. She had known him since they were kids and her brother karted with Charles and Max, but he gave up racing to be an engineer and she kept attending the local races to cheer Charles on. Max had won the race and Charles had come in second right behind him, so the trio was out celebrating. It was still weird to her that they were friends after their childhood rivalry, maybe because for years she tried to get over her crush and hate him because he was beating Charles and that was enough, except it clearly wasn’t. Now they were older and Charles was his friend, so she couldn’t really hate him for winning, and she never really got over the crush either. Charles had rented a limousine to drive them around the city in celebration and they were squeezed into the sun roof to watch the lights as they drove through the city.

Her back was pressed to his chest and his hands were resting on the roof on either side of her, trapping her in place. She wouldn’t be flustered if it were anyone else, but they had been hooking up since they were eighteen and at this point the only time they weren’t was the rare occasion one of them was in a relationship. The feel of his body against hers was driving her wild, and she wanted to go back to the hotel and have her way with him. She knew that no matter what time they left, they would end up wrapped up in each other but she didn’t know how long she could hold out. They had already gone to two clubs and were on their way to a third when his lips moved to her right ear, “I’ve got a proposal for you, been thinking on it for a while.”

She turned in his arms, barely having enough room in the sunroof, but after a moment her back was pressing against the edge of the roof as she leaned back and tilted her head up to him questioningly. Just knowing he had been thinking about it for a while had piqued her interest. Charles stared at her for a second, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips and back before he said, “How would you feel about Max joining us?” A shiver ran up her spine and her eyebrows raised, and she’d wondered if he had caught her looking at Max all night.

She giggled and asked, “And what exactly have you been thinking about?”

He grinned and retorted, “That’s for me to know and you to find out, if you say yes.” She thought about it for a moment before nodding, mind running through ideas of what he had been thinking about and she couldn’t form a coherent thought to say yes. He grinned and kissed her his hands moving from the roof to grip her waist and pull her closer, despite the fact they were already pressed together. The kiss didn’t last long as he started pulling away and lowering himself back into the limousine, she stayed in place, not wanting to look Max in the eyes when Charles asked him. She focused on the lights blurring around her, the other cars speeding by and the feel of the wind around her. It wasn’t long before she felt hands on her body as someone squeezed into the sunroof next to her.

Max was suddenly pressed chest to chest with her and she was looking straight into his eyes, “Hi there.” She squeaked out, and he grinned at her.

“Hi,” he said as his hands slid from her hips to her waist and her eyes flitted to his lips as he asked, “This really never crossed your mind before?”

She blushed and shrugged, unsure how much she should divulge. “I won’t lie, I’ve thought about you before, but never both of you at the same time.”

The words sent a shock through Max, he wasn’t expecting her to say yes, assuming she only agreed for Charles. He had crushed on her for years and it only got worse when he got close to Charles once they were older and she was around much more often, only to find out they were entangled with each other. Charles knew Max liked her, they had talked about it before when he drunkenly complained she was mean to him and Charles just said that’s how she is, to which Max said not with you. He couldn’t forget the grin on Charles’s face when he said “Well that’s because we fuck sometimes. She treats you the same as Carlos, or like Daniel.” He had made a face at that remark and Charles teased him about being jealous, then asked if Max liked her and when he didn’t confirm nor deny, Charles knew it was a yes. Knowing that she had been thinking about him made his head spin, wondering if she felt an ounce of what he did for her. He was just about to say something when her eyes widened and she pressed her face into his chest. He thought they hit a bump, but he didn’t feel anything other than her arms grasping for her biceps as she rocked forward. A shudder ran through Max’s body as her heard her moan and her nails dug into his skin. She shifted on her feet and pressed her lips to his neck as she whimpered, and he squeezed her waist, wondering what had gotten into her all of a sudden.

She was waiting for Max to do or say something when she felt her dress lift and Charles’s hand smack her left cheek. Her body rocked into Max’s as she moaned embarrassingly, pressing her forehead to his chest to hide her flushed face as Charles repeated the action on the other side and she gasped, “He just—spanked me.” Charles’s hand massaged her ass where he just spanked it for a moment before he slipped it between her legs. Her mind was spinning as she hid her face in Max’s neck, desperately biting her neck to cover her moans as Charles brushed her panties aside and slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them immediately.

Max couldn’t tell what Charles was doing in the car beneath his view, but it had made her start kissing his neck while she moaned against him so he couldn’t complain. “What’s he doing now?” She whined at his question, embarrassed to answer, but she pressed herself closer and her lips ghosted against his ear as she moaned fingering me. The words made his cock twitch and his right hand left her waist to slot between them, hands slow but curious as they traced their way down her stomach and over the mound of pubic hair until it met Charles’s fingers dipping inside of her. His fingers found her clit and he was rewarded with a moan of his name as she bit his neck.

She felt like she was going to collapse when Max pressed his fingers against her and slid them up to her clit, toes curling in her heels as she succumbed to the pleasure. She knew this was bad, it was very very vwry bad. They all knew it was bad. It was unlikely anyone could get an image or video of her and Max right now with them on the highway, but if they did… She didn’t want to think about the scandal, but it turned her on even more knowing that Charles and Max were so comfortable touching her like this. That Charles had started it while her and Max were standing in the sunroof of a limousine. She wasn’t going to last much longer, her legs were shaking and she was gripping onto Max for dear life. “Maxie, ‘m gna cum.” She whined out against his skin and she felt his fingers press harder against her and she nipped at his skin. “Come on, schatje, cum for us.” Charles curled his fingers as he spoke and she would have collapsed if not for Max’s arm sliding around her waist and holding her against him as she came. Her orgasm rocked through her and she sloppily kissed his neck between moans until she was gasping for air as her orgasm faded and she started trying to get their hands away from her as oversensitivity set in. She had left a hickey on Max’s neck that was bright red when she pulled away, but he didn’t seem to care as he immediately dipped down and kissed her. She could feel Charles fixing her panties and dress as their lips met and she let him kiss her as she basked in her orgasm.

He pulled apart after a moment then sank down into the car again and she quickly followed, sinking down between them and looking back and forth between them before giggling, “What was that?”

Charles shrugged, “I was getting bored all alone down here, wanted something to play with.” She slapped at his shoulder as he laughed and asked, “So, back to the hotel then?”

#max verstappen smut #charles leclerc smut #cl16 #mv1 #my writing #formula one smut #formula one fanfic #formula one #f1 smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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kvtie444 · 6 months

Text

‧₊˚ TOXIC

A/N: sorry this took so long I decided last minute to go across the country lol + this turned out more of a toxic situationship im sorry - also just imagine chris has a car and drives pls, LMK WHO WANTS A PART 2

Summary: being in a situationship w chris lol kinda toxic tho

Warnings: very heated making out, arguing/ swearing, toxic???

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Im sorry, bby" Chris's text message read, and as I read those words on my phone, a mixture of frustration and resentment washed over me. I turned off my phone, deliberately ignoring the stream of missed calls and messages from him. Unbeknownst to his brothers, Chris and I had been entangled in a complicated "friends with benefits" situation. It all began this summer night at a party; we were both intoxicated, and one thing led to another, leading to an intimate encounter with "no strings attached."

However, Chris, being Chris, desired something more than just casual encounters. He wanted me all to himself and went out of his way to prevent me from getting involved with anyone else. He used psychological manipulation, and at times, openly discouraged other men who expressed interest in me. Yet, he continued to see other girls on the side. Last night I was on facetime with Nick, when he obliviously told me about a girl named "Gia" staying the night with Chris.

How could he date others whilst expecting me not to do the same?

My phone vibrated again, and the message "come outside" illuminated the screen. With an exasperated sigh, I headed downstairs. Fortunately, I had just returned from hanging out with my girlfriends and still looked presentable. Grabbing my keys, I stepped out of my front door, locking it behind me. I saw Chris parked in my driveway, his eyes locked onto mine as I approached. I got into the passenger side without a word, keeping my gaze fixed forward.

"Hey," Chris said, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned in to kiss my temple, followed shortly by a chuckle leaving his lips. My anger was palpable as I turned my head to glare at him.

"Don't push me, Chris. I swear to fuck if you keep acting like a dickhead when we BOTH know how much you fucked up, I'll lose my shit," I warned, my hand raised to my temple.

The car fell into an uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke up. "Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry. I’m not gonna lie to you, that girl gave me head, but that's it, I promise." My stomach sank, as I had expected as much, but some part of me had hoped it wasn't true.

"That's not the point, Chris! Why do you get to see other people, but I can't?" I quickly retorted, my hand now rubbing my temple in frustration.

Another awkward silence filled the car, and I reached over to open the door. "Y/N," he called, but I ignored him and stepped out, slamming the door behind me. He hastily rolled down his window and yelled, "Y/N, get back in the car." I slowed my steps, torn between walking away from someone so infuriating – but the other half of me just wanted to shut him up and sit on his face (😋)

I turned around and re-entered the car, turning my body to face him. I looked over all his features – his ruffled brown hair under a backward cap, slightly dilated pupils, and enticing pink lips. His silver chain hung nicely over his white tee, and I couldn't help but imagine how I wanted it dangling over my face again.

Our eyes locked, his gaze occasionally piercing into mine before settling on my lips. His hand cupped my face, while the other soothingly caressed my arm. "The only reason I act like a dick is because I care about you. You know that, right?" His eyes staring into mine, and his tone softened, filled with affection, the tone that had a chokehold on me.

I nodded and leaned in, our lips crashing together in a passionate kiss, quickly turning into a make out. He pulled away, trailing kisses down my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of marks. "Mine," he murmured against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed his seat back, creating space in front of him, and guided me by my waist to straddle his lap, resuming our make out session.

I broke away to tear off his shirt from his body, then leaned down to paint his neck with a trail of hickeys, matching the ones he'd given me. "don't want any other bitches looking at you," I said, pulling back and gripping his face, locking eyes with him. He smirked, his hands firm on my hips, sending butterflies through my body. "mm, I'm all yours baby," he replied in a low voice. His right hand slipped under my shirt, sliding up my back to pull me closer for another kiss. His hands removed my shirt, and they found their way to my hips, gripping them with bruising intensity, pressing me against him as he grew hard. My hands dipped lower, teasing the waistband of his pants. "God, you drive me so crazy," he whispered, out of breath.

Our intense moment was suddenly interrupted by his ringing phone, connected to the car's aux, blaring loudly. I turned my head to see the caller ID, reading "Gia."

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#angst #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #sturniolo triplets #Spotify

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yayayxs · 5 months

Text

Oops

Summary: Bada exposes your guy’s relationship on live “accidentally”

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

Fluff

A/N: I’ve already made a fic like this but another one wouldn’t hurt and I’ve been dyinggg to write about this for so longgg.

Just a small little fic for y’all :3

“I’m sooo boreddd” Bada whined as she cuddled up next to you, smelling your signature scent (enter smell of your choice) on your clothes. Her hair soft against your neck.

You giggled and kept scrolling on your phone, liking edits of your girlfriend and other pictures of Bada. You smiled at how gorgeous she looked all the time.

Bada shuffled a bit on the couch noticing how she wasn’t getting your attention and how stuck you were on your phone, smiling at something, she furrowed her eyebrows.

“What are you looking at that’s making you giggle and kick your feet?” She asked sitting up, you looked at her as she had a cute bothered face on, you flipped your phone as Bada was met with a picture of her.

“You duh, who else have you seen make me giggle and kick my feet?” You asked

Bada stayed silent.

You let out a hum.

“Exactly.”

“Okay but I’m right here? You don’t have to look at your phone so see my beautiful face” She whined, frowning as she cuddled against you once more, comforted by the fact no other woman was making you act that way, that wasn’t her.

“Yeah but these people have crazy talent editing you like that.” You said as another Bada edit popped up on your feed, music blearing from your speaker as you liked the edit.

Bada rolled her eyes sarcastically.

You pecked her cheek and smiled.

God, she was in love with you.

If she would have gotten the engagement ring she customized just for you a week ago, she swear she would propose to you right now.

Suddenly two voices could be heard from your phone and then music. It was a edit of both of you, with #(your couples name). You automatically licked it with no hesitation. Bada looked towards your phone as she stopped playing with your hair.

“Ooh I like that one” she said.

“Me too, it’s my favorite one so far” you said, then you opened the comments.

Let’s just say it was a mix.

“She’s pretty but not pretty enough for Bada 😕”

“Yeah I don’t think Bada would date someone like her…”

“There’s no way they could be together, they don’t even have chemistry”

Let’s just say hate comments were slowly over flowing the positive comments.

Badas eyes widened as these random people were commenting on your guy’s private relationship. Quickly she snatched your phone from your grasp before you could keep reading them.

“Stupid people, don’t even know what they’re talking about…” Bada mumbled angrily.

You hugged Bada, and smiled.

“You’re cute when youre mad” you said and pinched her cheek jokingly. She only stared at you with a serious expression on her face and read “are you serious?”

“What? Those little hate comments don’t affect me they don’t know nothing about-“ your voice was cut off when Bada scrolled to your instagram account.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her actions.

“Babe what are you doing?”

She quickly clicked the camera icon and then pressed “Start Live”

Before you could even react she immediately kissed you in-front of the camera, with the instagram live started as she held the camera up to your guy’s faces.

You started to really get into it before you realized what exactly you were doing.

You were live making out with Bada, who you two haven’t even confirmed your relationship, in front of thousands of people.

You quickly snapped out of it reaching for your phone back from Badas grasp and ended the live. You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“Why did you-“

Again, Bada leaned in kissing you before you could finish what you were saying.

“My hand slipped, sorry.”

This is short asf and rushed but hope y’all liked itttt lmk if y’all want more Bada fics and send me requests pls!!

#lee bada x reader #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada imagine

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leviscolwill · 6 months

Text

something to give each other

pairing: situationship!jude x reader

summary: jude and you are nothing complicated, until one night when you need him more than anything [wc:~800]

contents: angst & fluff at the same time bc why not + maybe a tiny bit suggestive ? idek if this classify as suggestive tbh

note: ikkk it's very short and that's a shit summary just read pls 😓 if u liked it, lmk by reblogging !!

now playing something to give each other by troye sivan...

you don't know what brought you two together. maybe it was the magnetic energy that he had to him, or maybe it was the way your personalities completed each other perfectly. either way, you found yourself wishing your paths never crossed a bit too often.

you and jude weren't anything serious, it was ‘less complicated’ this way according to him. you hung out with your shared friends and when everyone else was heading home, you would share a uber to his house or yours. it was simple really, you both got what you wanted by the end of the night.

and tonight, you needed him to take your mind off this awful day. you couldn't wait for him to make you forget about those stupid exams and these stupid arguments with your friends.

you didn't take the time to greet him like you usually did before kissing jude's lips, maybe bolder than he expected. his fingers gripped your jaw and forced you to slow down and separate from him.

“what's with you tonight?”, you could only roll your eyes at his comment, small talk being the last thing on your mind tonight. thankfully, your fingers raking the skin under his shirt was enough to shut him up. “i just need you, please jude.”

his eyes closed, it was hard to resist your pleas but your voice had a tone that was different than usual and he didn't want you to do something you might regret later, “no, you need to tell me what's going on, we're not doing anything if you don't.”

“fuck off, you never ask me about anything and suddenly you're interested in what's going on?” you couldn't understand the sudden switch in his behavior, it had always been just sex, why complicate it now? “i just need you to kiss me, take off my clothes, and make me feel good, is this too much to ask for?” you could feel your eyes well up in tears the more you spoke, already frustrated by your day, and not wanting to argue with him.

“it's fine if you don't want to have sex, i'll just text someone else.”, of course you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, if anything you would leave and cry yourself to sleep in your bed. jude's thumbs wiped tears that you didn't notice were falling before cupping your face in his hands. his eyes looked into yours in a way you weren't used to, your eyes fell on the floor from the intensity of his gaze, but two of his fingers were already tilting your face up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

the silence between the two of you was becoming embarrassing, “i'm sorry about… all of this, i'll just go. sorry.” you couldn't even turn your back to him before his hand found your wrist, “you're not going anywhere. stay the night, please.”

you couldn't hide the frown on your face, confused by his words, “but you said you wouldn't…” the boy in front of you dramatically pretended to get offended, “this information might surprise you, but my life doesn't revolve around sex.” the giggles that escaped your mouth brought back a smile on both your lips.

jude's hand brought you to his room, although you knew the way all too well already, the warmth of his hand in yours brought you a sense of comfort that you didn't know you longed for. he handed you a shirt that was probably twice your size but would be perfect to sleep in. you embarrassingly looked around you before asking him to turn around, he complied but laughed his back now facing you.

“i've seen you naked so many times already, you shouldn't care about this love” heat was creeping up your face thinking about what he was hinting at, “s’ just different that's all…” your voice was barely audible, and you couldn't even tell if jude heard your words. you got under his sheets and told him he could turn around, his bed now significantly warmer with him next to you.

even with his eyes shut, jude could tell you were tense laying next to him ramrod straight. you felt his arm around you pull you closer, your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

you felt him shift a bit, and kiss the crown of your hair. the action made you heart skip a beat or two and relax more. you hoped you did a good job at pretending to be asleep because you didn't want to deal with the consequences of his ambiguous gestures in the morning. his fingers slowly stroking your hair were lulling you to sleep for real this time.

jude stopped once he heard your light snores and pressed on one more kiss on top of your head. he didn't let himself fall into the arms of morpheus though, already thinking about how he would fix whatever he started tonight.

#giving my fav boy some love after a long time 🤭#i love situationship!jude i hope you enjoyed that one 💗#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football angst #football imagine #football x reader #football x you #footballer imagine

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azzibuckets · 7 days

Text

Paper Rings [Part 1 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

summary: very angsty friends to enemies to lovers told through flashbacks & current day

a/n: this is my very first fic + i’m still pretty unfamiliar with how to use tumblr so pls forgive me in advance 😭 but lmk what you think!

warnings: drinking, angst, paige as a player

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR & 1 MONTH AGO

It was the night of the Big East championship game, and the entire UConn women’s basketball team was piled into Paige and Azzi’s apartment to celebrate with drinks. At first, you’d been hesitant to come, as you would be the only non-player there. Which usually wouldn’t be a problem, but since it was a celebration for something as special as a tournament win, you wanted to let the team have their moment. But Paige insisted, saying that you were basically one of them at this point, and that everyone loved you and would want you there.

So here you were, sandwiched between Paige and KK on the sofa. There were so many people squeezed onto the sofa, though, that you were basically half in Paige’s lap. She didn’t seem to mind though - one hand was holding a red solo cup filled with dirty Shirley while the other was firmly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place next to her. Not a typical look for best friends, but both of you attributed this intimate position to physical touch being both of your main love languages.

Paige’s fingers were absentmindedly brushing up and down your hip, alternating between playing with the fray at the end of your shirt and scratching your hip. You tried not to think too much of it. Paige was constantly moving, and she always needed something to play with or else she’d get bored and distracted. She definitely wasn’t touching you because she had feelings for you. Paige made it clear that she wasn’t interested in anyone romantically, with how quickly she moved from woman to woman. But that was how she chose to live her love life, and you respected that! And didn’t care….at all.

KK suddenly lurched up from next to you. “Ayoooo, we should play spin the bottle,” she crowed, as if this was the best idea she’d ever come across.

“Nah, girl, I’m good,” Nika teased, shaking her head at KK’s antics. “Geno said he wants us to be close, but I don’t think he meant that close.”

The rest of the team hooted in laughter. KK pouted. “Well, Azzi just texted the guys’ team to come, and they’ll be here soon. That way I don’t have to kiss any of y’all’s nasty lips.”

At that, Paige sat up a little bit straighter, her grip around my waist tightening. “Ain’t no one playing spin the bottle with the guys. Especially Y/N.”

“Why, Paige? Jealous?” Ice teased. Ice always gave you a hard time about Paige, wiggling her eyebrows at you every time you walked Paige to practice or dropped off food for her during their recovery sessions. You suspected that she was onto you, but you always shrugged off her teasing in order to seem nonchalant.

Paige rolled her eyes, although her grip on you didn’t loosen. “Nah, bro. They’re just weird. They don’t know Y/N like that. She’d be uncomfy.”

You tugged on one of her Dutch braids. You loved whenever she put her hair into two full braids. She looked so cute. Although you’d never tell her that. “What if I wanna play, hmm?” You were testing Paige’s limits, and you knew it. And as much as you wanted to chalk it up to her being jealous, you knew she was probably just being a protective friend.

Paige shook her head. “It’s such a middle school game, Y/N. You don’t wanna do that.” With those words, you felt a surge of drunken defiance rise in your chest. Paige was bossing you around, as if she knew what was best for you. But you refused to be seen as the innocent and meek type. And now you wanted to play. Because if you couldn’t have Paige, you weren’t gonna let her limit you from having someone else.

You raised your chin. “No, I think I’m gonna,” you declared.

Paige’s eyes flashed. There was a hint of surprise in the way she leaned back and studied you. “Okay,” she responded coolly. “Whatever. Do what you want - Imma top up.” She briskly slid the part of me on her thigh off, and got up, disappearing into the kitchen.

Soon, the guys piled in, along with some of their buddies that weren’t on the basketball team. You all agreed to do a mix of spin the bottle or truth or dare. It was either answer the question, or kiss. Except those who were players insisted that teammates were off limit. To be honest, you didn’t wanna play. You, like Paige, thought the game was childish. And more importantly, the only person in the room, or frankly anywhere in the world, whose lips you wanted to kiss was Paige. But Paige didn’t want you, and you had to move on.

Paige returned with a full cup, this time of beer, just in time for the game to start. A couple of the girls had gotten up to sit with the guys on the floor, so there was more room on the sofa now, meaning that Paige and you were no longer touching. Instead, there was a sizable gap between the two of you. The lack of her warmth was upsetting to you, and another reminder that Paige was only touching you because of how crowded the sofa was. Not because she craved your touch the same way you craved hers.

Just your luck, the bottle landed on you the first spin. You vaguely recognized the guy who spun it as one of the players on the basketball team. He had dirty blonde hair and a cocky smile. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and he had a rumpled look about him that would be messily attractive if it weren’t for the fact that you had almost zero interest in guys.

“Which guy on my team looks like he’d be the best in bed?” The guy’s wildly inappropriate question barely registered before Paige leaned forward, sliding her hand protectively over your knee.

“That’s a fucked up question,” she snapped. Her eyebrows were furrowed in that way that happens when she’s really angry, and her cheeks were flushed, likely from the alcohol. Tipsy Paige meant a Paige with much more intense emotions, and you knew now that she would be even more unashamed now than she is sober, which says a lot considering how she’s already pretty free willed sober. “Don’t be an ass. Give her a decent question so she’s not forced to kiss you.” Paige snarled.

The guy’s eyebrows shot up. “Chill out, P. It’s just a game,” he laughed arrogantly.

“Yeah, P.” The words, laced with malice, were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you wanted to die as soon as they came out. Paige looked like a puppy who was just kicked, confusion and embarrassment in her eyes. Shame rose in your throat like bile - Paige was just trying to protect you from a creepy guy, a guy who you didn’t even want to kiss, and you were taking this random stranger’s side. In front of all these people.

But words kept piling out of your mouth, even though you didn’t mean it. “Stop babying me,” you hissed. This time only Pauge could hear, but you internally kicked myself again for the harshness of your words. It was the alcohol in you, running hot through your veins, exacerbating all the bitterness and jealousy you’ve been feeling towards Paige for so long. You wanted to get back at her…but for what? It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love you back.

You were thrusted back to reality when you realized everyone was staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. It was an almost out of body experience, in the most terrible and awful way possible, watching yourself move like a robot to where the guy was sitting. You kneeled down, planted a kiss on his lips to the cheering of all the people around you, then got back and returned to your seat on the sofa.

And for the rest of the night, Paige didn’t speak to you.

—————————-

“I can’t find them.” You were digging through your purse, trying to find your keys. Paige was standing next to you, her face stone hard.

You were so drunk. After the whole kiss incident, you’d started going wild with the drinks, putting back shots as if your life depended on it. The alcohol made you feel numb, softening the ache you felt whenever you thought back to earlier that night when you had hurt Paige, embarrased her in front of all those people. You felt like the worst person in the world, and the more you drank, the more that guilt disappeared.

And now you were drunk out of your mind. You’d expected Paige to ignore you completely after, and she had, until the celebrations died down and you had to go home. You had walked to the apartment because your dorm was only 10 minutes away, and now with how you couldn’t even walk without staggering, someone needed to escort you back.

You hated how good Paige was. How she immediately got up without hesitation when Nika requested for someone more sober to walk you home. You knew she was angry and hurt, yet like always, she looked out for you first.

“Paige, I can’t find them,” you pouted. Paige exhaled through her nose and grabbed the purse from you, sifting through it before she found your keys, tucked into one of the side pockets. Opening the door, she rested her hand on the small of your back to guide you inside.

Once inside, you grabbed Paige’s hand, tugging her into your room and flopping on the bed. She stood there, still and silently watching you. She was unamused, and rightly so.

“Are you mad?” You giggled, sitting up to poke her in the stomach. When she stared back at you, still in silence, you stopped laughing. Sobering up a bit, you grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “I’m really sorry,” you said quietly. “I don’t know why I did that earlier.” She was between your legs now. You weren’t thinking straight, your mind a muddled mess, and so you wrapped your calves around her, pulling her in until there was no space between you two. She looked down at you, bringing her hand to lightly touch your jaw.

You both stayed there for a moment, the tip of her finger running back and forth along your jaw. Your eyelids fluttered closed. Paige’s touch was so gentle, and you wanted to lean into it and stay in it forever. You didn’t understand why she was being so kind to you when you had been so cruel to her earlier, especially on a night as important as this.

“I’m sorry. For ruining tonight,” you told her, shifting to lean your forehead against her toned stomach.

“You didn’t ruin anything. But I was trying to look out for you,” she said quietly from above you. Paige. A golden heart, and a reminder of why you didn’t deserve her.

“But you kiss a lot of people. Why do you have an issue when I do it?”

Paige’s hand stuttered. “You should really get some rest,” she said gently instead of answering your question. She backed up, looking at you closely before shutting the light off. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night, Y/N.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wbb #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #huskies #uconn #wcbb

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yujinslovr · 7 months

Text

DAY 9 : gp!yujin x fem!reader

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

CW: anal, oral, degradation, humiliation, edging, lmk if theres anything else!

word count: 2,738

a/n: proofread at 3am, i'm half asleep so pls forgive any mistakes😞😞😞

you knew what she had brought you here for, it was for the same reason all the other old businessmen at this event had brought their young beautiful wifes. it wasn't a new occurrence to you, yujin would often bring you to these kinds of events. you only had one job, and that was to sit still and look pretty. she would bring you along with her because she knew that you looked better than any of her business partners girls. the hard gazes you received from the older men you were surrounded by was proof of that if anything. it was the biggest ego boost for yujin, to know that all of these taken men were in envy of her for having someone like you.

many would hate it, being objectified in this way, and maybe if you were someone else you would’ve. she only kept you with her, her arm tight around your waist to show you off to the other people there, to boast that not only was she young, rich, and pretty, but she also had an insanely beautiful wife. and honestly, you didn't mind it one bit.

you had met yujin in college where she was studying business and you art. you had dreams of being an actress but your parents wouldn't leave you alone unless you graduated from college. you had always liked art, ever since you were young so you figured why not go into that. you and yujin’s love story had been one like the movies. yujin was always going to take over her millionaire fathers business and had been training for it since she was young while you were more of a free spirit. yujin more than excelled in what she did and was the definition of a prodigy, her getting her fathers business was never even a question. you bumped into her in a coffee shop and the rest was history. you quit your dream of becoming an actress since yujin said ‘she wanted your beauty all to herself’ and now here you were, living your best life with the best wife ever. you knew yujin enough to know that she saw you as more than just arm candy for her, so you didnt mind acting like that's all you were every once in a while for her.

yujin had always worn suits to these kinds of events, and you always a dress to match her suit. you didnt know what it was, but in this suit yujin just looked too fucking good. her biceps were protruding out of the navy blue dress shirt she had on, her suit jacket set off to the side. not only was her insanely hot physique being shown, but her bulge seemed to have multiplied in size. your eyes just couldn't seem to leave the very noticeable bulge in her pants.

you two were sat at a table, her conversing with the man in front of both of you, their wifes at their sides just like you with yujin. you were making small talk with the ladies in front of you, your hand under the table seeming to have a mind of its own first rested itself on yujin’s thigh. she didn't think anything of it at first, knowing that you were someone who always liked to have physical contact. but then your hand started slowly going upwards, not stopping with your conversation for even a second. when your hand came to rest on her crotch, she shot you a look, dropping her hand under the table and removing your hand from her. she continued with her conversation after this, thinking that was that and now you’d stop.

oh how wrong she was.

as soon as she put her hand back up on the table to grab her beer to drink you quickly put your hand back and gave her bulge a small squeeze. yujin promptly choked on the beer she was drinking, glaring at you. after coming up with an excuse for her choking she leaned into your ear and whispered out a warning telling you to stop. and you did just that for a while, even leaving her side to go converse with some other people. after a while, you got bored and decided to mess with her a little more. you looked around for her, and it wasn't long before you caught sight of yujin manspreading on a couch, a table full of empty bottles of beer in front of her and the men sitting opposite to her. you went up to where she was sitting and sat down on her lap, leaning your head into the crook of her neck. yujin’s hands instinctively went around your waist as she asked you if anything was wrong.

“i’m so bored, when can we leave?” you whined out into her neck, leaving a few kisses to convince her.

“why don't you get me and these gentlemen here some drinks, i’m having a conversation right now but we can leave in a couple hours.” she gave you a little pat on your ass before ushering you off her lap.

all the men sitting at the couch opposite to yujin agreed on beer so you went to fetch it for them. maybe if you were someone else, you would’ve found her tone and words infuriating, but then again you weren't someone else. yujin had always been like this, ever since the first week in which you two started getting to know each other. if you were being honest, you were so different before you met yujin, you had so many more dreams that you were determined to achieve but you ended up compromising on all of them for yujin. you would do anything and everything for her, and being her obedient little housewife in front of her coworkers was something you’d do anyday.

when you came back to them you set down all the drinks on the coffee table in between the two sofas. you once again found yourself on yujin’s lap. “baby, i need you..” you whined out into her ear, subtly pressing yourself harder into her crotch.

“behave.” it was one word, but one that held multiple threats along with it. her hands harshly gripped your hips as she stopped them from moving while glaring at you. her eyes daring you to challenge her and misbehave more. when she thought it was enough, she turned back to the men in front of her and put a tight smile on her face. “so, where were we?”

you were growing increasingly bored as yujin’s conversation went on, they were talking about business and boring stuff that you didn't understand. you thought back to her warning and you knew there’d be consequences if you actually made her leave this function early yet you couldn't seem to find it in you to care. all you knew was that you wanted to leave and you wanted to jump yujin’s bones, and with that you had made your decision. you would have started to grind on her but that’d be too obvious, the people she was talking to would definitely find out. so instead you reached your hand in between the two of you and started to palm her crotch.

yujin choked mid sentence when she felt what you were doing, she couldn't exactly reach down and remove your hand. that’d make what you were doing very obvious and she still had appearances to keep up. yujin’s grip on your hips tightend as she glared at you, the silent threat looming over you, her nails were digging into your hips yet you still couldn't find it in you to care. you continued what you were doing, staring her dead in the eyes, a smirk on your lips. yujin abruptly stood up, forcing you to stand along with her. she moved you from her front, very aware and pissed about the very clear tent in her pants. if she could, she’d have kept you in front of her but she needed to bid these men goodbye, they were some very important people and she was beyond mad at what you were doing.

“i apologize, but i really must leave now. it was a pleasure meeting you gentlemen.” yujin said, shaking all of their hands individually.

one of the men whispered a ‘have fun’ with a wink, clearly catching on to what had happened due to her very obvious boner. “you bet i will.” yujin replied with a large cheeky grin spread across her face.

yujin’s entire demeanor changed the moment you two stepped out of the event hall, her smile dropping and you knew you were in for it. you both sat in the truck limo which was waiting outside for the both of you. the screen between the driver and passengers was immediately closed and you were forced to your knees. yujin was sat at the long sofa that spread across the entirety of the limo while you were on your knees in between her legs. yujin shoved your head into her clothed crotch, “c’mon baby, suck it won't you? kept on touching me through my pants, thought you’d wanna suck me through them too.” yujin said in mock innocence, tilting her head to the side when you tried to pull away.

“I said fucking suck bitch.” she pulled your hair, hard. you let out a whimper at the pain in your scalp from the roughness. “don't make me repeat myself again.”

you hesitantly opened your mouth, not wanting to anger her further by not listening. you wrapped your mouth around the bulge in her crotch and sucked on it, yujin rutting into your face. the entire act was so incredibly humiliating and you genuinely couldn't believe what you were doing. thankfully though, yujin soon decided that was enough and she needed to feel your mouth around her. she yanked your head away, using your hair as leverage, you let out a yelp at the stinging in your scalp. you now had a full view of the wet spot your spit had made on her boner, the sight made you flush red in embarrassment. yujin removed her hand from your hair and went to undo her belt, then unzipped her pants and pulled them and her boxers down enough for her cock to spring out.

you took a hold of her cock, wrapping your hand around the thick meat. you brought your mouth up to it and softly sucked at the head, your hand stroking what wasn't in your mouth. your slow pace was starting to piss yujin off again so she decided to take things into her own hands. her hand found purchase in your hair as she pushed you all the way down, your nose touching her pelvis. your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, tears springing in your eyes as you choked and tried to pull yourself off. yujin’s hand kept a firm grip on your hair and stopped any type of movement you tried.

yujin pulled you up for a second, allowing you to breathe in before once again forcing your head down. “fuck baby, takin me so well.” yujin let out in a sigh, your gags and chokes turning her on even more. the way you looked up at her through your tears, your mascara smudged and drool leaking out of your mouth. she thought you looked prettiest like this, a mess all for her. with one last grunt yujin forced you all the way down and emptied herself into your mouth, she pulled out halfway through and started stroking herself, painting your face with her cum. “mm, what do you say baby?” yujin hummed out, taking your chin in her hand and tilting your face up to her.

“t-thank you..” you stuttered out, your mouth incredibly sore from her roughness.

yujin hummed in response, a smirk spread across her face as she trailed her hands up to your hair, pulling you up. yujin then manhandled you onto all fours on the sofa while she knelt behind you, squeezing and slapping the skin of your ass. she spread open your cheeks, spitting on your puckered hole and then rubbing it around. she slowly eased a finger into your hole and watched as you tensed up at the foreign feeling. she thrusted the finger in and out and when she felt you were ready, she pushed herself in. you let out a scream at the big intrusion in your small hole, you and yujin didn't do anal often, you couldn't even remember the last time you two did it.

“i don't think you deserve me in your slut cunt, after what you pulled, you don't deserve to even cum.” yujin grunted out as she bottomed out into your ass.

you let out a whine at both the feeling and her words, you were wrong but you deserved to cum as least. you clenched around nothing, your neglected cunt yearning for some kind of stimulation. yujin never once faltered in her thrusts into your ass, letting out small grunts of pleasure every time you clenched. the burning feeling of her going in with basically no lube, only a bit of her spit was put on both you and herself, and the small amount of lubricant was starting to make it burn. “i-it hurts–!” you let out in a scream, hissing at the feeling, it was a manageable amount of pain but you didn't want to endure this small amount of pain.

“do i look like i fucking give a shit?” yujin growled out, bringing her palm down on your ass as she pounded into you harder.

your arms gave out and you leaned your head into the sofa, yujin gripped your hips keeping your lower half up. you looked to the side, looking at yujin behind you and was greeted by the sexy image of her with sweat dripping down her face, her shirt seemingly molded into her body allowing you to clearly see her abs and biceps. seeing her eyes closed, you took this chance to reach down and play with your clit, gathering your slick and circling the hard nub. you were in heaven, finally getting the stimulation you so craved. you couldn't stop your moans and whimpers if you tried, the feeling overwhelming you after wanting it so badly. it had barely been a few minutes, but the combined feeling of yujin in your ass and your clit finally receiving attention had you teetering over the edge. you clenched impossibly tight, you were so close, on the brink of cumming.. until it was all taken from you. yujin's hand grabbed yours and she pulled both of your hands behind your back as you started struggling against her, upset at the fact that she ruined your orgasm.

“what? you really thought i’d let you cum? a fucking whore like you doesnt deserve to.” yujin laughed out condescendingly as she continued fucking into you. tears were falling down your face in frustration and at the loss of your orgasm, you were so insanely mad yet you couldn't do anything about it and that frustrated you to no end.

“yujin please oh my god i swear i'll be good next time, please i just need to cum.” you cried out, desperation clear in your voice.

“we’ll see next time then, if you're good next time then you can cum next time.” you could only let out broken cries of please, begging her to have mercy on you.

yuijn’s thrusts into you became erratic, a clear sign that she was close. when yujin felt like she was on the brink, she pulled out of your ass and bottomed out into your pussy, stilling when she did and then spilling her load deep inside your cunt with a loud groan. you let out a moan at the feeling of her warm semen flooding your insides, clenching tight around her to maximize her pleasure. yujin pulled out of you and fell backwards onto the sofa pulling you on top of her.

“i didn't cum.” you pouted into her neck, your tears soaking her shirt as you whined.

yujin wrapped an arm around you, stroking your hair, “when we get home.”

and as if on cue, the driver knocked on the partition screen and opened it crack, enough for his voice to reach you two. “we’ve arrived ma’am.”

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bippiti · 2 months

Text

505 cl16

where you reminisce on your first love

wc 3k

an done for my 1.2k event! first fic in the series, lmk if you wanna be tagged and as always pls like + rb<3

(starts in 2014, ends in 2024ish)

i'm going back to 505

you rushed down the road, feet peddling as hard as they could as you biked down the street. your eyes glanced down to your watch, squinting before you read the time. great. you were going to be late.

you thought that was you’re biggest problem, and then a new one came crashing onto you, literally.

while you were busy checking the time, you failed too notice someone else running in your direction. you don't know what had them too preoccupied to notice you- but you could technically say the same thing about yourself so-

you were bought back to the moment by the stinging you started to feel on your knees, you hissed looking down and seeing red. ugh

you began to apologize, looking up and stopping mid sentence.

wow. he was pretty. really pretty

you slapped yourself mentally, wincing while standing up. it was definitely going to scar. you reached your hand down to help the mysterious boy up, who sharply inhaled when your hands met. he had scraped his hands up pretty bad when you guys collided.

"i'm so sorry again"

"you're completely fine, i should've been paying more attention" he said while laughing

he has nice laugh

"anyway, i think i should properly introduce myself, i'm charles le clerc" this time he was the one to extend his hand out

"y/n l/n, nice to meet you" you smiled as you shook hands

then you remembered what had gotten you into this mess. you checked your watch again. you were definitely late now.

"i'm so sorry charles but im running late to a painting class, i really need to go" you picked up your bike, kicking the dust off of it.

"wait i am too, are you going to mme. callarios?"

you looked back at him in shock. "how did you know"

he shook his head, "you're going in the wrong direction, since we're heading the same way mind if i show you?"

you didn't see why not, so he climbed in front of you and began to head towards your class

if it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

the bike halted as you reached your destination. building 505. you stared at each other nervously before walking in. the class had started at 1pm, and it was nearing 2 when you arrived. granted, it was a 4 hour class but still.

you cringed internally as you felt all eyes on you when you opened the doors to the class.

"y/n, charles! great to see you. we've split up into partners, so you both will have to work together. decide who will be the painter and who will be the model for the first piece. switch in an hour and a half!" she explained quickly, ushering you both to the only empty table.

you both sat across from each other, and after a small game of rock paper scissors, you were adjusting in your seat getting ready to pose for the next 90 minutes.

when you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?

you didn't know how you managed to keep a straight face, his stares were piercing into what felt like your soul. you knew that he had to be like this, he was painting you after all. but knowing that didn't help. after silently uttering some words of encouragement to yourself, you maintained a straight face.

after what felt like forever, you heard the timer go off, and with one last stroke of the brush charles was up and you were swapping places. you cracked your knuckles before sitting on the stool. this was gonna have to be the best painting you've ever done.

before you knew it you were hearing to now familiar ring as you finished off the details of his eyes. you stood up, backing away from the piece. not too bad you thought.

after everyone had finished, you went to the room across as they all dried. it was acrylic, so it wouldn't take too long. there were snacks and refreshments scattered throughout the space. grabbing a drink and seat, you started to learn more about charles. he had two brothers, one older and younger. his mom still cut his hair, you thought he might be embarrased but he showed it off proudly.

“all these years and she still hasn't given me a bad haircut”

“if my mom could cut hair like yours, i'd be getting it done by her too”

“you should come by her salon sometime, i think she'd like you”

“really?”

“yeah, she's out of town so next month when she's back”

with those plans made, you collectively went back into the painting room. you both swapped paintings and looked at them for a while.

you gauged his reaction, at first his face was blank and you were scared that you had made him look like a troll or something, but slowly a smile creeped up onto his face, he looked up to you.

“it's really good”

you smiled and looked down to yours, he had gotten your likeliness down to a t. he left clear marks and left the strokes visible.

looking up you saw him searching your eyes for a reaction, just like you had.

“you did so good, i love your painting style”

he seemed relieved when you said that, smiling. as everyone around you began to pack up and leave, you both exchanged numbers before grabbing your paintings and going your separate ways.

not shy of a spark

you had texted back and forth a lot since then, and soon enough you found yourself at the doorstep of his moms salon. after being welcomed in you sat down and showed her photos of the haircut you wanted. she nodded, and began to wet your hair

“charles talks about you a lot, you know”

“does he really” you said with a laugh

“he does, i think he likes you dear”

that shut you up, she smiled warmly

“at this age, love is everywhere, make sure you grab it while you can”

you left the appointment with amazing hair and a lot of questions, you didn't think he could possibly like you back. but now, who knows

the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

I'm going back to 505

you walk into the painting studio, excited with the a dragonfruit in your hand. today was still life day, normally you found it boring but mme. callarios had let everyone bring their own fruit.

you spotted charles when you got in, and lifted your dragonfruit for him to see. he put his hand up, showing off the orange he had started to peel. he tore off a piece for you, and offered it once you got closer.

your hand was cramping as your eyes continued to squint at the pink fruit in front of you. you regretted picking dragon fruit barely half an hour in, the seeds and the outer skin were proving difficult to paint accurately, you glanced over to charles, his was coming along nicely. you ended up pushing through the ugly phase and were somewhat proud of the piece. it had definitely been your most challenging one so far

If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive

you were biking to charles' place, over the weeks you had both become closer, and he wanted to cook for you. you were somewhat scared, charles didn't seem like michelin star material, but maybe he'd surprise you.

he did end up surprising you, but not in the way that you thought.

pasta was on the menu for the afternoon, and you sat on the counter as he went around getting all the ingredients ready. basil, pine nuts, garlic, and olive oil were all pushed onto an island before he began on the pasta. getting out the flour and egg, he began to knead the dough together.

he looked nice in moments like this, comfortable. you liked to think that maybe you could see more of him like this, when he's quiet and the silence isn't awkward. existing together in his apartment kitchen. once he was done cutting the dough into pieces, he salted the water and dropped the pasta in. he came over to you and you both began talking.

you ended up getting so immersed in the conversation that the pasta was forgotten- at least until it was too late. you glanced over to the stove, eyes widening as you saw smoke rising from the pan. you both jumped up and yanked it off the gas, bringing it to the sink. what was going to be amazing pasta was now a charred rock. you couldn't help but laugh before getting side eyed by charles.

"i guess we're going to have to order pizza instead"

you ended up binging some random show you found on netflix, and as a souvenir took home the rock of burnt pasta, you named it char, short for charles charcoal

In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side

charles had become a f3 driver now, and hadn't been in monaco for a bit. you watched all his races, and you were the first person he called after his first win in pau-ville. he was excited, and so were you.

you're feelings for him had kept growing, and you couldn't help it, no matter how much you tried. you loved everything about him, his eyes, and how they'd light up when he saw you, his smile, and the dimples that formed when he did. his hair, his voice, just him.

soon enough he was back in monaco and you were excited to see him.

you grabbed coffee and began walking around the streets, stopping at building 505, walking into the currently empty studio. you looked around some of the paintings before sitting on some stools.

you knew him too well now, 3 years of friendship will do that. he was nervous, when he bought his hand up to his face you had saw he had bitten his nails. you didn't bring it up, but before you could say anything he started to speak

"i've been trying to figure out how i should say this for the longest time. i've known for a while now, but it really hit me in pau. i couldn't have don't any of this without you, i don't even think i'd be who i am without you y/n. and now that i'm back i can' t handle not telling you. i like you, i really like you"

you were stunned for a minute, before you kicked back the stool you were sitting in and kissed him. the puzzles had fallen into place, you couldn't believe it.

he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand to your waist as you sat in his lap. your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as you began to roll your hips against his.

you pulled away, panting. smiling at him before you began to kiss him again, his hands roamed down to your shirt, tugging it up as he separated from you again. you raised your arms, and took his off as well. a silent beat skipped between you both and you laughed

"are we really about to do this right now"

"yeah, i think we are"

you pulled him closer to you once again, his tongue slipped int your mouth effortlessly and you almost moaned, god he knew how to make you melt.

soon enough, the rest of your clothes followed suit and you were on the cool tile floor. as his hand started to trace your inner thigh you grabbed his hand. he looked up, somewhat confused but before he could say anything you spoke,

'i've never done this before"

he relaxes almost immediately, and smiles down at you

"neither have i"

you weren't ashamed to admit you were shocked, sopmeone like him.. never? not once?

he could see the gears turning in his head and he spoke up

"there were girls now and then sure, but i always wanted it to be you, it's always been you honestly"

you couldn't see yourself rn, but you were sure you were giving im heart eyes by now.

"it was the same for me too actually" you said sheepishly

"was it really?

"yeah, it was" and with that you bought your hands up to his shoulder, flipping him onto the floor. you kissed him softly, turning his face to kiss along his jaw, his neck, going further down to his chest, then stomach. pausing for permission, after seeing his nod you pulled down, eyes widening as you saw it. well this was gonna be interesting

you left kisses on his tip, working your way down before you took him all in your mouth. he hit the back of your throat and you almost choked, but hearing the moans coming out of his mouth kept you going. you could feel him start to pulse, and before you could do anything else he was bringing you off of him, kissing your lips as he turned you around.

“can’t have you doing all the work can i cher?” he said as he pulled your underwear down, almost moaning when he looked down at you, all of you.

he traced his hands down your sternum, down to your waist and legs. spreading you open he dipped his face down.

you could feel his tongue inside you, pulsing before he started scissoring you open. he was good- too good at this. you don’t know if you could handle it. soon enough, he was back on top of you, kissing you gently as he lined himself up with your entrance.

he cleaned you up afterwards, he was quiet, soft. you could get used to this

but I crumble completely when you cry

it had been months since that night, you and charles had been going strong, but after he joined f2, something changed. his eyes no longer lit up when he saw you, he started buying things for you instead of making them. you’d wake up to your phone being full of messages, but none of them from him.

it hurt. he hurt.

it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he called you, asking where you were.

you answered, mme. callarios’ place. he said he was going to be there soon.

you felt your heart drop, wether it was excitement or fear, you couldn’t tell.

you knew the minute he stepped through the door it was going to be bad. you could read him like a book. you composed yourself as he came closer, pressing quick kisses to the others cheeks, you painted a smile on your face and smiled at him.

his eyes were full of emotion, for the first time in months. it’s almost funny, you knew it was coming but the moment the words left his mouth you broke down

“i’ve been seeing someone else”

“i see”

at first it didn’t register, not really. a heartbeat later you felt the tears pricking at your eyes. you turned around trying to excuse yourself, but before you could take another step a sob escaped your lips. you started to cry. you couldn’t shut up, why couldn’t you just shut up? you could feel yourself gasping for breath, all the air in the world wasn’t enough for your lungs right now. you were getting lightheaded, knees turning shaky before ultimately giving up on you. the impact resonated around the empty room.

he stepped forward, kneeling down. his stupid, warm hands brushed up against your face, trying to wipe away your tears.

you couldn’t even push him off of you. you really were pathetic.

you managed to fight your way up, shaking and all but running out the door.

never again, you were never going to love anyone like that again

i’m going back to 505

you walked into a crowded room. your latest collection had been getting a lot of coverage in the media, and it was the last day it was up for the public. the pieces would be going to the individual buyers first thing tomorrow.

building 505. it no longer made a bitter taste seep into your mouth. it’s crazy to think a decade ago you were standing here painting him, how time flies.

the first few months were the worst. he was the only thing you could think of, you were a broken record. so naturally, you did the one thing that made you feel close to him again, painting. and it saved you

you could get out every thought you were too afraid to say out loud, every emotion you didn’t want to feel with simple strokes on canvas

you didn’t think anything would come of it, honestly. you were meant to go into investment banking, like your parents. the universe had other plans though

one of mme. callarios’ friends was a museum director, and took a liking to your pieces. he asked you to do some works on commission. word got around fast, and now you’ve made a name for yourself as an artist, in some ways all thanks to charles

charles. now he had his dream job, f1. working with the team he used to tell you about, the team he worshipped.

you were happy for him, sometimes you wonder if he was happy for you. you still think of him when you eat pesto, you still keep char in a jar under your bed, you have all of the paintings you made that summer in a closet collecting dust. there were pieces of yourself that you gave to him that will stay his even though you’re done.

none of that matters now though, you turn to someone who’s called your name and start explaining the piece they’ve asked about

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