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#the cracking stopped right after i stopped listening
euno11a · 3 days
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”Simon, you need to promise me you won’t get mad…” you said as you looked at him from the opposite side of the couch.
his brows furrowed as he looked at you, “Can’t promise, love.”
you nibbled your lip, picking at the skin on your cuticles before finally spitting it out. “I have a crush on someone!”
you’ve seen Simon in many ways - when he’s angry, sad, happy, horny and that beautiful look he gave you when he saw you on your wedding day, but nothing would’ve ever prepared you for the look you got when you said that. He looked like you hit his heart a thousand times. “Y’what?”
“I- I have a crush…and the problem is, I can’t stop staring and thinking he’s the most handsome guy. And when he stared back at me, I got butterflies and felt myself blush.”
He sat quietly, listening to you as you rambled on about your new crush…at least you were telling him and not cheating.
You let out a small sigh, “He makes me nervous and giddy; not nervous in a bad way, but nervous in a ‘I just want him to lean in and kiss me’ kinda way. Like, ‘Hey, my phone buzzed and I hope it’s him’ kinda way. And when I get ready to go out, I struggle to find the perfect outfit because I wanna look just right…”
that feeling of comfort he once had with you, his wife, was just fading away so easily. After all the shit that had happened to him, you were the last one he thought would do this to him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and walking off to the front door.
you got up and ran over to him, grabbing his arm. “Si, where are you going?” You looked at him, trying to figure out what made him upset.
“Away. Let y’have yer time with your new lad.” His voice was stern and full of venom. But it only got worse when he saw you crack a smile.
“Simon…no, lovie, I was talking about you! You’re the guy I have a crush on…and I know it’s gushy, but I feel like a teenager again every time I look at you. It’s your fault for being so handsome.” Your voice gentle as you cupped his face and pressed little butterfly kisses to his cheeks and nose.
he could do nothing but stand there dumbfounded. “Y’need t’find a better way of sayin’ shit, doll. Thought you were bout to leave me…” his voice got softer when he said that last bit.
your eyes softened, knowing how it sounded to him. You sank to your knees and pressed small kisses to his sweatpant clad thighs, earning a small groan from him. “Wha’re you doin’ love?”
“Apologizing…” you said, staring up at him through your lashes as you pulled his sweats down.
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tencrushesperday · 2 days
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Blood runs thicker than water
pairing : matt rempe x hughes!reader
warnings : angst, and some description of bruises, sort of forbidden lovers, 1k
a/n : instead of studying for my exams next week i do this, i was listening to The water is fine by Chloe Ament and felt inspired
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You wanted to stay until the end of the match. You wanted to congratulate your brothers on the win. You wanted to party with the team after such a huge win against their rivals.
But the blood was pounding in your ears and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. The crowd was so loud. Jack’s last conquest and Bratt’s girlfriend were chatting next to you. Yet you were feigning interest in the game to ignore them. Even though you could barely focus your sight.
Luke had gotten into an unnecessary fight during second period and Jack was right there to back him up. Both were okay. But the other guy wasn’t.
As soon as the second intermission started you excused yourself to the restroom then texted Nicole on your way to your car saying that suddenly you weren’t feeling good.
Fortunately, you’ve driven down this road so many times you didn’t have to focus to get home because suddenly you were in your apartment. You were on autopilot the whole time doing your night routine and then you were in your bed trying to fall asleep.
Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes you would see him taking hit after hit. Him struggling to get up. His bloody face.
Then you heard keys turning in the lock and the front door shutting. You got up from your bed and marched out of your room, ready to send one of your bothers home.
“Matt”, you stopped dead in your tracks right outside your bedroom door.
There he stood, in front of the entrance, cheeks bruised, lip cracked.
“I’m sorry”, he only managed to whisper it.
He wanted to say a thousand other things but everything was pointless and painful. Looking at you was painful. Nothing was more appropriate than “sorry”.
He was the one who hit first. Even though Luke asked for it. He chirped Matt’s girlfriend without even knowing it was his own sister and Matt couldn’t let it slide. He also couldn’t tell Luke the truth.
The truth being you weren’t even his girlfriend.
You were just hooking up, keeping it casual, secret.
He would have loved it, have it been any other girl.
But he was so desperately in love with you. He wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and have you cheering on him at his game. He loved waking up next to you and the casual evenings you spent at each other’s apartments, watching a movie, cooking together and telling each other about your days. He loved when you talked about hockey and he would promise you to take you play again, like when you used to do when you were younger. He even loved the stupid reels and tiktok’s you would send him in the morning on your commute to work because then he knew that you thought about him.
However, it has never gotten out of your apartments. His promise to take you to the rink to play hockey together was never fulfilled.
That he hated.
You kept looking at him. You couldn’t sleep because you kept seeing him getting hurt. But now that he was actually in front of you and even in the dim light coming in from the street you could see the bruises.
Not breaking eye contact you get closer to him as he silently takes off his shoes. He knows the rules in your home. He has a spare key. He knows you inside and out and he still can’t call you his and that’s worse than any hit from your brother, he thinks to himself.
“You left before third period.” He wants to wrap his arms around you and feel the warmth of your body to forget the cold of the ice.
You look at him before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So did you.”
You drop his hand and reach for two glasses in your cupboard.
He watches your every movement and anticipates your every word. You’re too calm but he knows there’s a storm brewing inside of you. You always go quiet when you’re upset and feeling too much. He knows that growing up with three brothers toughened you up and that, even if you’re working on it, subconsciously you still think that showing emotion is a weakness. Still he awaits your next words and actions. You have him wrapped around your finger so tight he almost wants to laugh at his poor situation.
You turn on the tap and let the water running until it’s at the right temperature before filling up your glass.
Matt can’t wait anymore. His patience thins with every drop of water. It’s pouring out of the faucet and going down the drain.
He’s right behind you when you turn around. You wanted to ask him if he wants water but your words die in your throat. He looks even worse up close.
If you weren’t holding in your breath you would have sobbed at the sight.
Despair fills his eyes when you look up to him. He crashes his lips on yours and you can taste it right there.
You’re not mad he fought Luke. You know how it is on the ice, you know how Luke can be a little shit when chirping, you know how Matt can fly off the handle in such a situation.
You taste a metallic taste in your mouth as the slit on his lip cracks open at the fierceness with which he kissed you.
It doesn’t matter who he fought, he’s hurt and that’s what upsets you.
The metallic taste mixes with the saltiness of the tear that slid down your cheek. He catches the next one with the thumb that is caressing your skin, as he cradles your face.
Your fingers run through his hair. You can’t let him go. You tug him closer. You can’t tell your bothers. Not now. Every thought in your head contradicts the previous one. His other hand is wrapped around your whole body and pulls you impossible closer. You’re caught up in such a mess, one you made yourself.
But for tonight you’ll kiss Matt even harder. You’ll take care of his bruised lip. You’ll kiss the pain away.
Leaving the mess for tomorrow morning.
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complicitsacrilege · 20 hours
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More fun for the @deromanuscoven Spring Event 😈
Day 4: I want only your love or death.
Written by @herbeloved82 and me.
Find it on Ao3 here!
He could read it in Louis’ mind. He’d lost him again. Armand knew that Louis was never his to begin with, but over the years, they’d grown comfortable with one another. But now, there was a distance between them that Armand had felt before.
It didn’t help that Lestat was more than happy to be open with his lavish displays of affection for his all too indifferent partner, but the evening that neither Lestat nor Louis had so much as shown their faces before midnight, that was when Armand knew that he was alone once again.
Lestat had descended from his ivory tower to grace them with his presence. Even without the ability of reading his thoughts any longer, Armand didn’t have to pry to see the Prince’s smug expression, but it was the scent of something unnatural still running through his veins that told him what had happened. Louis slunk down to read in the library several minutes later, carrying that same unnatural scent.
Armand had smelled it a handful of times at court - more and more, now that their doctors in residence had time to experiment with perfecting the delicate balance. He knew that the open offer was there, yet, Armand never sought out Seth or Fareed to try it, but now, watching the way that Lestat draped himself across Louis’ lap, their cheeks still flushed, Armand had decided now was the time.
Only, there was no one with which he could. Not with Louis back to being Lestat’s pet or Daniel taking time alone in Rio, now that he seemed well enough to do so. That was when he overheard Chrysanthe’s voice. He glanced up, peering down the hall that led to the salon from which the sound of Marius’ laugh drifted over the sound of a crackling fire.
Armand’s eyes narrowed fractionally as he listened closer to the words. It was nothing of import - nothing that he and Marius hadn’t discussed countless times in the past. History. Politics. And yet, as Marius laughed again, Armand could hear the soft rustle of fabric as one of them must have gestured or moved closer.
Part of him wanted to look into the room, to walk in as though he hadn’t noticed that they were even there, but instead, he simply sat on the other side of the library, glaring at Lestat, who was now nipping at Louis’ jaw. It was a battle he would never win, for once Louis’ attention was elsewhere, not even the end of the world could draw him out of his shell.
And yet, there was the smallest crack in Louis’ facade as he tipped his head closer to Lestat’s for a kiss.
That was enough.
Armand stood quickly and stormed out of the room, leaving the library, but he stopped on his way to the salon when he saw Seth and Fareed approaching from the other side of the hall. Dressed alike, as always, it was Seth who carried an ornate looking wooden box and Fareed glancing toward the salon, from which the sound of Marius and Chrysanthe’s conversation continued.
Seth and Armand’s eyes met for only a moment, but it was Armand who looked away first, shying away from the weight of his dark gaze. Armand drifted to one side of the hall, yet they did not move to pass him, instead entering the salon before Armand could even see inside of it.
Fareed’s voice immediately joined Marius and Chrysanthe’s, and from his tone, he seemed pleased with what he saw. “Marius, Chrysanthe,” a brief pause, in which Armand could practically feel himself bristling. “It’s good to see you about, we were getting worried. We need our prime minister after all.”
“It is my duty to help our Prince.” Marius said with a detached voice that had little in common with the laugh that still echoed in Armand’s mind. It was like something switched off inside Marius, but the difference was clear. Marius had no interest in small talk with the doctor, yet the sound of his laugh with Chrysanthe told another story entirely.
Armand had always been his own worst enemy, and right now his mind was conjuring the worst possible scenario. He knew what was in the nice box Seth carried, what else could it be if not the triple cursed hormones? 
Armand found himself grinding his teeth. He could taste the metallic taste of his blood in his mouth as he imagined Marius accepting the box from Seth, a gentle and enigmatic smile on his too expressive face as he nodded towards Chrysanthe. 
He could see her delicate hand wrapped around Marius’ arms as they walked to his bedrooms, where they would - no. Absolutely no, he decided, he wasn’t going to stay around to see them leaving together. He was done for the night. 
Those were his thoughts when he walked away and left the main floor with its too many happy couples. 
-----
Read the rest here!
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screampied · 8 days
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edging choso. thank you for listening 👍
꒰১ cw. fem reader, cowgirl, mdni.
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“my g—god,” choso huffs out in short breathy pants, his breathing became shallow—almost as if it came with ease, a straining exhale snatches from his throat as he leans back. you’re riding him, sensually grinding your hips against him to where his droopy eyes roll way back into the depths of his cranium. “more, more, moreee,” he pleads with crimson red lips, two big hands stuck to your waist. he was so whiney, with the way you rode him until he clung onto his final breaths—how could he not moan out a whimper or two . . ?
it’s sloppy, the way your ass moves up and down against him— he’s so thick too, such length to him that the stretch just comes so easily. callused fingertips roughly dig into your skin and his head throws back the moment his tip thrashes against your most sweetest spots. you feel it and he feels it too. “choso, how’s it feel baby? feels good?”
“uh huh, uh huh,” he’d immediately nod, half lidded eyes and he looks so cute— his entire body felt hot, he can’t help but pull you into a steamy kiss. the feeling of your warm lips mashing against his was enough to make him get off, so warm. his thighs start to pang, the undersides of them tense and he knows in the back of his mind that he’s about to dump yet another load right into you. “uh,” he whines, departing away just to see the sheeny cobweb of spit leave from your lips. choso was horrible with eye contact— he’s panting heavily before he moans out that sweet familiar, “princess ‘m gonna cummm.”
but that’s right when you amp up your speed, the piston of your hips only grow quicker— he bites his tongue, feeling a twinge of arousal brew up before he’s hitting you deep. the crownhead of his cock only tickles against your clit before right when he’s about to sink into his release,
you . . . stop.
choso inhales . . then exhales, he’s confused..
a cute perplexed expression with a pout before his eyebrows curl up. “. . wha-” he croaks and his voice cracks as you just sit there. your attention suddenly aims at coating the inner part of his chin with a plethora of sweet kisses. mwah after mwah, he moans from your touch before finishing his sentence. “why’d you stop? why—why?”
“not yet, baby.” you coo, pressing a kiss near the pierced lobe of his ear.
he frowns at that, balls deep and he was so close, so so close…
he wanted to pump you full, choso’s mouth felt dry, the inside of it felt equivalent to the sahara. he’s always had a hard time being told no and he was adorable. “n-not yet?” he repeats, soft big arms wrapping around your waist. you lean into his bare chest before giggling. you were panting yourself, heave after heave leaving your lungs as you glance into his darkened irises. “but why?”
“because,” you kiss near his neck, then his chin, then finally . . his mouth. a lewd moan escapes from his throat at your touch, he loved your kisses more than anything. his dick twitches inside of you and your tender touch only drives him more crazy. warm breath wafts against his skin and he moans again, your touch was truly his worst enemy. out of all the enemies he’s been in battle with, a simple touch or kiss from you was simply choso kamo’s weakness. “because, i want you to wait a little. is that a problem?”
“oh . . !” he cutely mutters, a sheepish smile on his lips.
he gulps, finding your sudden dominance a bit hot — dark pools of aroused eyes gaze into yours before he scoots you closer against his lap. with a low soft tone, he rasps a, “g-guess not,” and he swallows the invisible lump in his throat, feeling your pussy soak him dry. “if my love wants me to wait, i’ll w-wait.”
“you’re such a good boy, ‘cho.”
“hey, don’t call me that though. please.”
you titter, peppering a kiss towards the corner of his lips.
his mouth quivers, always so weak for any amount of kisses that you give him. he’s so grateful, the warmth that you always provide him, whether it’s being inside of you or simply sharing a sweet kiss with you, you were really his kryptonite.
“i thought you liked when i praised you?”
“i— i do,” he protests, jaw tightening as you move a bit more with him still stuffed inside of you. his cock continues to pulsate and it feels so good. but being edged felt different, something surges within him as if he was most definitely on pause mode. “it’s just . . it’s embarrassing. ‘m supposed to call you good. ‘cause y’know, you’re my good girl.”
you giggle once more, wrapping your arms around him—trying to stall as much time as you could and it was working.
“but whenever you say it, it’s just cute.”
“hmph,” he pouts, a cute tint flushing towards his cheeks before he pulls you even closer. “baby,” he questions out, snapping back to lewd reality. his head throws back as he feels the same throb stir up inside of him. a thumb strums alongside your back before he pants. “can i cum now? i waited, i just wanna fill you up— please. let me cum, okay?”
another chaste kiss goes against his lips, he whines from the contact your mouth goes against his. so sweet, you’re so close to him that you can hear him swallow and he stares at you with glossy eyes, reddened lips just shuddering from your movement.
“pretty please,” you whisper. “say that ‘n you can cum.”
“. . . babyyy,” he groans, reaching to grab onto the headboard and it’s unintentionally sexy— the way his veins on his arms pulse and bulge, a whimper drags out his throat before he finally gives in. “fuck, okay okay. fuck just, pretty please. pretty please, can i finish inside you? please.”
with the way you’re straddling him— keeping his throbbing idle cock between your gummy walls, he was about to risk it all. “okay,” you comply with a soft voice, gently stroking your thumb against his neck. “you can cum, baby. don’t waste it.”
“i won’t. promise, promise.” he purrs out, both hands going towards your bare ass. he squeezes it tightly before once you give him permission, he’s floating on cloud fucking nine. “fuh—fuckk,” he breathes, melting into a puddle once you take the time to plant a kiss near the bridge of his nose where his darkened scar remained. it shot up, arose— and it was so much. his heart pounds, a rapid heart beats through his ear before finally, he finishes.
thick velvety ropes pour right into your womb— it shoots out in such a hot way that you’re spasming, you feel each spurt and you hug him tightly. “make me feel s-so good, princess,” he pants, entirely out of breath. he’s shaking underneath you, lip quivering from the way his cum slowly but surely fills you up to the brim. your pussy’s flooded, sweltering with nothing but the hefty amounts of his cum before he bites into your neck softly. “thank you, t-thank you.”
“what for, baby?” you mutter in a hushed tone, watching as he brings his head back up to look at you with sweet droopy eyes.
choso shivers, your words only making him ten times more hard as he pulses inside of you still.
“for . . for making me a messy boy,” and he swallows, eyes closing for a brief second. “fine. fine,” and your eyebrows furrow at what he means before he whimpers into your neck, gentle breath bristling against your skin. “i . . . a-admit it, ‘m your good boy,” he moans, a hand grabbing your ass for the umpteenth time before he sheepishly huffs. “can— can we do that again though? pretty please?”
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tojirights · 3 months
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I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!
a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷
tags: 18+ smut nsfw!
vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.
and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.
"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.
"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.
this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.
"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."
valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.
"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.
and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."
the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.
"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.
"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)
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Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.
Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.
“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.
Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?
Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.
He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.
If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.
He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!
It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~
You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.
He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.
He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!
He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.
When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!
Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!
His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.
He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.
One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.
Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.
Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.
He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.
Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.
“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”
Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.
He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.
He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)
He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.
The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.
Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.
You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!
He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.
He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.
Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.
Now let’s talk about Vox.
Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.
He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.
Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.
Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.
Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.
4K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Breaking Point
Charles Leclerc x Ferrari!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc finally reaches his breaking point after the disaster that was the United States Grand Prix. Something needs to change … and that’s where you come in
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“Again, again!” Charles’ voice rings out, echoing through the debrief room, “How can we mess this up? I was on pole!”
Fred Vasseur looks down, sighing, but trying to maintain composure. “Charles, it was a miscalculation—”
“A miscalculation?” Charles retorts, eyes blazing, “This has been a trend all season, Fred. It’s not a one-time mistake. It’s systemic.”
Carlos, looking uncomfortable, tries to chime in, “It wasn’t just about strategy, you know the car—”
“Oh, I know the car,” Charles snaps, “And it was built against my driving preference. But it’s not just that. It’s everything. The poor race strategy, the unnecessary swap, and now being disqualified as if my day has not been bad enough!”
Enrico Cardile, the team’s technical director, steps forward, “Disqualification was not anticipated. We followed the regulations to the best—”
“Enough with the excuses!” Charles’ voice cracks with emotion. The weight of the season, the betrayal he feels, finally makes him see red. “Every time there’s an excuse. We’re a team and yet somehow it feels like I’m constantly battling not just our opponents but Ferrari as well.”
A deep silence settles.
The head strategist, Ravin Jain, finally speaks up hesitantly, “We thought the one-stop made sense. The data suggested—”
“Data,” Charles interrupts bitterly, “The same data that led to a decision that every other team on the grid laughed at! Did the data also suggest swapping me with Carlos? Or was I being punished for being able to manage my tires?”
Carlos, despite himself, looks hurt. “I didn’t ask for the swap,” he mutters.
Charles takes a breath, looking at his teammate, “I know. It’s not your fault, hermano. But I need to trust the team’s decisions. And right now, I don’t.”
Sporting Director Diego Ioverno tries to mediate, “It’s been a tough season, Charles. Everyone is understandably stressed. Let’s sit down, review everything together, and find a way forward.”
Charles shakes his head, “That’s what we said last time. And the time before that. And the twenty times before that! Empty promises, meetings, discussions, and then what? Nothing gets done and there is another disaster waiting to happen.”
Fred tries one more time, “We’re as frustrated as you are. We’re a family. We’ll figure this out.”
Charles scoffs, “I can’t keep being let down and used. Not like this.”
The room falls silent once more, a heavy cloud of disappointment and tension hanging in the air.
Carlos reaches out, placing a hand on Charles’ shoulder, “Things will get better.”
Charles meets Carlos’ gaze, nodding slightly. But the fire in his eyes has not dimmed, “I need to believe in this team again. But right now ...” He pauses, “I have a call to make.”
He turns, leaving the room filled with introspective silence. The team is left behind, grappling with their own emotions, knowing that actions will always speak louder than words.
***
Charles steps out into the warm evening air, taking a moment to compose himself before dialing a number he knows by heart but hasn’t touched in months.
“Hey,” Charles’ voice is a low rasp, every ounce of weariness evident.
Then a pause, as he listens to the voice on the other end.
“Yeah, it’s me ... look, I know what I said earlier this season. About handling it myself.” He takes a deep breath, letting the weight of it all settle.
A longer pause, broken by Charles’ intermittent nods and “Uh-huhs.”
“Every race feels like it’s been one disaster after another. And it’s not just the car, it’s everything. I can’t ... I can’t keep doing this to myself.”
He listens closely.
“I told them today, laid it all out. But it’s like talking to a brick wall. They listen, they nod, and then? The same mistakes. Over and over.”
He shifts his weight, the sound of his shoes scraping on the gravel echoing softly.
“I know, I know I told you not to get involved ... but maybe ... maybe that was a mistake.” He sounds defeated, a man at the end of his rope. “I need help. Real help. Maybe it’s time you step in.”
Charles is silent, absorbing whatever the person on the other end is saying.
“No, it’s not about leaving the team,” Charles’ voice is earnest, desperate even. “It’s about respect. Trust. It’s about feeling like I’m not constantly fighting against the tide, not just against other teams but within my own garage.”
A long pause.
“What I mean is, maybe some changes within the team would be good. Fresh perspectives. New faces, perhaps. Somewhere I can trust the decisions, the strategy ...”
He sighs.
“I just want to race, you know? Without all this drama. Without constantly wondering if I’m being set up to fail no matter what I do.”
Another pause as he listens, nodding, lost in the gravity of the decision he’s about to make.
“Thank you. Really. Let’s talk tomorrow? Lay out all our options?”
There’s a moment of quiet, only the sound of his breathing, the distant hum of the circuit, the world slowly dimming around him.
“Thanks. Goodnight, Y/N.”
***
“Emilia,” you call out, and before a moment passes, your ever-efficient personal assistant is by your side.
“Yes, Y/N?” Emilia asks, perfectly poised.
“I need the jet prepared. We’re heading to Mexico City,” you say, voice steady and determined though inside, the turmoil from the phone call with Charles still lingers.
Emilia raises an eyebrow slightly, a silent question in her eyes. “Any particular reason?”
You sigh, looking away for a moment, reflecting on the weight of the legacy you carry. “Scuderia Ferrari needs my direct attention. I trusted them to handle things, but ... it’s clear that has not been happening.”
Her eyes flash with understanding. “Of course. I’ll have the jet ready. When do you wish to depart?”
“Tomorrow morning, early.”
She’s already typing into her tablet. “I’ll book you the Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons. Will you be needing a meeting space there?”
“Absolutely,” you nod. “On Wednesday, before the Grand Prix. Organize for all team personnel to meet in the hotel conference room. And Emilia ... they are not to know the reason for the meeting or that I’m the one calling it.”
Her eyes gleam with a hint of mischief, “Mystery and surprise. I love it. Consider it done.”
A small, wry smile tugs at your lips. “Thank you. And can you make sure Charles knows about my arrival? But ask him to keep it quiet.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
You pause, taking a moment to consider. “Just one more thing. Make sure we have everything we need to review the team’s decisions and strategies for this season. Every little detail.”
Emilia nods. “Absolutely. Everything will be arranged as per your instructions.”
You take a deep breath, “Thanks, Emilia. This … it’s about preserving a legacy, and right now, that legacy is on shaky ground.”
She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If anyone can steer this ship right, it’s you.”
***
The door to the conference room opens with a low creak, and the room immediately falls silent. Everyone turns to see you entering, your presence commanding every ounce of attention.
“Good afternoon,” you begin with ice-cold authority. “Thank you all for meeting on such short notice.”
There are murmurs of acknowledgment but no one dares speak up.
“I’ve reviewed our performance this season,” you continue, pacing the length of the conference room, letting each word sink in. “And to say I’m disappointed would be an understatement.”
Fred shifts uncomfortably in his seat, eyes darting around the room. You lock eyes with him, “Fred, you promised change. But the only change I’ve seen is our team’s steep decline.”
“I understand your frustration,” Fred stammers, “We’ve faced challenges—”
You cut him off sharply, “Challenges? Every team faces challenges. What matters is how you overcome them.”
Several team members look down, uncomfortably shuffling papers and avoiding eye contact.
You turn to the strategists, “Your decisions have cost us dearly, time and time again. Your inability to read a race situation, to adapt, to strategize effectively ... it’s quite frankly appalling.”
One of the strategists, a middle-aged man named Roberto, speaks up defensively, “We did our best with the information we had.”
Your eyes narrow, “Your best? Tell that to Charles, who has been left out in the cold race after race.”
Moving on, you address the engineers and designers, “Our car has issues that should have been rectified at the beginning of the season. Yet here we are, still struggling.”
An aerodynamicist named Lucia, clearly agitated, stands up. “We’ve been working tirelessly, trying to find solutions.”
You level her with a gaze, “Then maybe it’s time we look for people who can find those solutions more efficiently.”
Lucia’s face reddens, “You can’t just—”
“Actually I can,” you interrupt, “And I will.”
Your attention turns to Xavi, Charles’ race engineer, who has been noticeably silent. “Xavi, your dynamic with Charles has not been the slightest bit helpful. His feedback, his needs ... they’ve fallen on deaf ears.”
Xavi, trying to defend himself, says, “It’s a two-way street. Charles can be difficult.”
You shake your head, “Charles is a world-class driver. It’s your job to bridge any gaps, not widen them. I checked and it turns out that constantly repeating we are checking like a broken record is not beneficial for race performance!”
Taking a deep breath, you make your announcement, “Effective immediately, Roberto, Lucia, and several other strategists, engineers, and aerodynamicists that a personal audit revealed as detrimental to team performance relieved of their duties. Xavi, you too are let go.”
There are gasps around the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Roberto stands, fuming in anger, “You can’t just dismantle this team!”
You lock eyes with him, “I’m not dismantling. I’m rebuilding. And if that means letting go of every one of you who can’t uphold the standards of Scuderia Ferrari then so be it.”
Fred finally speaks up, “And what about me?”
You lean in, “Consider your position on very thin ice. I expect results. And fast.”
You straighten up, the room thick with tension, “Scuderia Ferrari is not just a team, it’s a legacy. My great-grandfather would be rolling in his grave to see what has been done to his beloved team. I will not stand by and watch it crumble.”
With a final, piercing gaze around the room, you pivot on your heel and exit with a flick of your hair.
***
You lean against the cool wall, taking a moment to gather yourself after the emotional intensity of the meeting. The hallway is quiet save for the distant hum of voices but soon familiar footsteps make their way around the corner.
“Charles,” you call out softly as spot the driver.
His green eyes, clouded with a mix of emotions, meet yours. “Y/N.”
“Are you okay?”
He hesitates, “I wasn’t expecting all of that.”
You nod, “It was long overdue. I should have intervened much sooner.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process everything. “It’s ... a lot. I didn’t think you would actually step in like this.”
You sigh, “I hoped I wouldn’t have to. But my bisnonno once said that aerodynamics are for people who can’t build engines, and right now, it sure seems like Ferrari can’t do either.”
Charles chuckles dryly, “You have a point. It’s been ... frustrating.”
You gently touch his arm, trying to reassure him, “Enzo also believed that dreams become bigger, much bigger, to build a car that doesn’t slow in the curves, that flies without leaving the ground. I want that dream for you. For us.”
He looks at you, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. A car that allows me to race to my full potential.”
You nod, thinking of the iconic red car and its tremendous legacy, “I know. And we’ll get there. Remember, racing cars are neither beautiful nor ugly. They become beautiful when they win.”
A smile tugs at Charles’ lips, “I haven’t won in too long. I almost forget what it feels like.”
You step closer, “That is going to change. I’m here for the long haul. To rebuild, restructure, and reclaim the Ferrari legacy. Glory will be dressed in red once more.”
He nods and swallows thickly. “Thank you, Y/N. It means more than you know.”
You smile softly, “We’re a team. And I promise to do whatever it takes to see us on top again.”
***
Early that Friday at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez, you gather the team in the garage.
“Good morning, everyone,” you begin. “I know it has been a whirlwind these past few days but I want to set the tone for this weekend.”
Fred, still adjusting to the new dynamic, nods silently from the back.
“We haven’t had the time to implement any physical changes to the car,” you continue, “But they are coming. For now, the difference will be about being smart … being strategic.”
Charles listens intently, his gaze occasionally drifting to the newcomers in front of him.
Speaking of the new additions, you gesture to the two people standing on either side of you, “I’ve brought on Marit Nilsen as our Principal Strategy Engineer and Claudio Segreti as Charles’ new race engineer. Not only are they exceptional engineers but also global chess masters.”
There are murmurs of surprise and interest among the crew. The world of Formula 1 and professional chess has rarely, if ever, intersected.
Marit, a tall woman with striking blonde hair, steps forward, “Chess is all about strategy, foreseeing the opponent’s moves and countering them. That’s what we’re here to do but on the track.”
Claudio, with his dark hair and deep-set eyes, adds, “Every move and decision we make will be precise. We’ll anticipate, adapt, and overcome.”
Carlos clears his throat, “So what’s the plan for free practice?”
You smile, “Today, we observe. We learn. We see where the car stands, where our strengths and weaknesses lie.”
As free practice commences, there’s a different energy in the garage. Marit, with her sharp analytical mind, quickly picks up on patterns, working closely with Claudio and Carlos’ engineer to ensure both drivers get feedback they need.
There’s a visible shift throughout the weekend. The team, rejuvenated by fresh perspectives, operates with a renewed vigor. And while the car may not have upgrades yet, new strategy quickly begins to make a difference like anticipated.
Qualifying sees Charles securing P3, an unexpected but welcome result. The garage is full of cautious hope but Marit and Claudio remain focused, already planning for the race to come.
Race day dawns and the tension is thick. You pull Charles aside, “Remember, things have changed. Believe in the strategy and the moves we make.”
He nods, “I trust them. And I trust you.”
As the lights go out and the cars roar to life, Charles delivers a performance that’s both calculated and aggressive. Every pit stop and every overtake is orchestrated like a chess match.
The race sees Charles finishing in P2 and Carlos in P4, a significant improvement from recent races.
The garage is a mix of tentative elation and relief.
Marit thoroughly reviews the race data, “This is just the beginning. Once the car upgrades are in place, the board will be ours.”
The sun sets on the Mexico City Grand Prix, but for Scuderia Ferrari, a new dawn is on the horizon.
***
“Fabiano Turati,” you muse, looking at the impressive portfolio before you. “Aerospace engineer, a key player in the development of hypercars for Agnellotti Motors, a professor at Politecnico di Milano. But never in F1?”
Fabiano, with salt and pepper hair and an air of quiet confidence, smiles slightly. “It’s not for lack of offers. I have just always believed in pushing boundaries outside of traditional paths.”
You lean back, intrigued, “So why Ferrari now?”
His eyes scan around the garage, “A challenge. An opportunity. A legacy to uphold. And, to put it simply, I think I can make a difference.”
You nod, appreciative of his candor. “We have three races left this season: Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. Realistically, how much can we improve?”
You can practically see the gears in his brain turning, “In terms of complete redesign? Not much. But in terms of optimization and efficiency? Quite a bit.”
By the Brazilian Grand Prix, Fabiano’s influence is evident. While not a complete transformation, the SF-23 sports streamlined wings and a refined rear diffuser, maximizing what the current design allows.
“Initial feedback is good,” Charles reports after the practice session. “There’s a notable difference in the corners.”
Carlos chimes in, “The balance feels better.”
The improvements are evident, with both Ferraris finishing just off the podium. But Las Vegas poses a new challenge: a circuit unfamiliar to all teams and drivers.
“This is anyone’s game,” Marit says, examining the track layout.
Fabiano nods, “This weekend will be all about adaptation.”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix is an exhilarating rollercoaster. Charles fights for a podium finish, narrowly missing out but showcasing the SF-23’s newfound prowess, while Carlos secures a solid sixth.
As the season finale in Abu Dhabi looms, anticipation runs high. The Yas Marina Circuit will end the year with a test of Ferrari’s mettle.
Post-race, with both Ferraris finishing on the podium after avoiding a pile up that took out multiple opponents, there’s a sense of satisfaction but also of hunger.
“We’ve made progress,” Fabiano says as the garage winds down. “But next season, we’ll aim for a car that is not just evolved but fully revolutionized.”
You smile, “With you on board, I truly believe we can. The future is bright for Scuderia Ferrari.”
***
“Look at her,” Fabiano muses, admiration clear as the blueprint for the SF-24 is spread out before you both in your Maranello office.
“She’s a beauty,” you agree, tracing your fingers over the schematics. “If she performs half as well as she looks ...”
“She will,” Fabiano leaves no room for doubt. “We’ve streamlined the aerodynamics, enhanced the power unit, and made significant weight reductions.”
Carlos walks in with a grin on his face, “Is this the beast we’re taming next season?”
“That’s the plan.”
Charles catches your eye from where he lingers by the door. “It’s a fresh start,” he murmurs, approaching the table almost reverently. “I feel it.”
Over the following weeks, you rarely leave the factory other than to sleep and shower. You immerse yourself with the team, observing wind tunnel tests, joining strategy sessions, and even trying your hand with pit stop drills.
One evening, after a particularly long meeting, Charles finds you in the lounge, sipping an espresso. “Mind if I join you?”
You gesture to the seat across, “Of course not.”
He sits and just looks at you until you get the urge to fidget. “I’ve been thinking,” Charles begins, “About the changes, the car, and ... us.”
You raise an eyebrow, “Us?”
Charles smiles slightly, “You and I. We’ve spent so much time together these past weeks. I’ve gotten to know you, not just as Y/N Ferrari but as ... Y/N.”
You flush and not just from the hot coffee, “I feel the same. It’s been ... refreshing. Getting to know the man behind the helmet.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table, “There’s this great little place just outside Maranello. Quiet, hidden. I was thinking, maybe, dinner?”
Your heart skips a beat but you maintain your composure, “I’d really like that.”
The winter in Maranello unfolds, and as the SF-24 takes shape, so does the bond between you and Charles.
Between brainstorming sessions and late-night discussions about optimal setups, there are stolen moments: shared glances, lingering touches, and dinners that stretch long into the night talking about anything and everything.
Carlos teases, “Seems like the new car isn’t the only thing igniting sparks.”
You roll your eyes but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. You don’t try to deny it. Why bother when you hope it might be true one day?
***
r/formula1
Posted by RaceRundown · 6 hours ago
First look at the SF-24! Thoughts?
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RedFever · 6 hours ago
This could be the machine that keeps Ferrari at the top. Just look at those lines!
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PitStopPundit · 5 hours ago
Getting major 2004 vibes from this. Could be a dominant year for the Scuderia!
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***
You step into the air-conditioned motorhome, grateful for an escape from the Bahraini heat. Charles and Carlos, race suits unzipped around their waists, are animatedly discussing their first day of preseason testing with the SF-24.
“Last year, we didn’t have to sandbag because the car was, well … genuinely that slow,” Charles laughs. “But this time around ...”
Carlos grins, finishing his sentence. “This time, we have an ace up our sleeves.”
You nod, “Just remember, it’s only testing. We still have to see where we truly stand.”
The race weekend finally kicks off and the paddock is full of speculation. After a deliberately unimpressive showing during testing, no one expects Ferrari to be a front-runner.
Yet, when the lights go out, the SF-24 does not just impress …. it dominates. Charles takes P1 with Carlos not far behind in P3. And the world takes notice.
The next few races see a rejuvenated Ferrari. In Saudi Arabia, Charles and Carlos deliver a nail-biting duel with Red Bull, securing a double podium. Australia is a tougher battle, with Mercedes coming to form, but Charles clinches a respectable P4.
The Asian leg of the season has its highs and lows. In Japan, despite a torrential downpour, Charles masterfully handles the wet track to clinch the top step. On the podium, he points up at the sky and then shapes his fingers — first into a one and then a seven — a silent tribute to his late godfather and mentor.
However, China proves challenging and sees the SF-24 struggling unusually with tire degradation. But as Miami approaches, the team regroups and Charles takes a commanding win under the Florida sun.
Then comes Imola, the first of Ferrari’s home races.
As the sun shines brightly over the circuit named after your great-grandfather and grand uncle, you find yourself walking the track alongside Charles. The weight of racing on home soil evident in his eyes.
“Everything okay?” You check, sensing his nervous energy.
He looks at you and taking a deep breath. “Racing in front of the Tifosi at home always feel different. I want to make them proud.”
“No matter what happens today, they will be proud of you. The whole team will be proud of you. We’ve come so far.”
He smiles, visibly lighter. “Then let’s give them a race to remember.”
And it is nothing short of spectacular. Charles starts P2, but with determination and brilliant strategy, he overtakes Max in the final lap and secures a victory for Ferrari on home soil.
The roar of the crowd, the sea of red flags, the tears in Charles’ eyes as he stands atop the podium — you make a promise to never forget this moment.
As the sun sets on Imola, the Scuderia Ferrari team comes together, basking in their victory.
As Charles, champagne-soaked and beaming, pulls you in for a damp hug, it is clearer than ever that this season is only the beginning of a beautiful journey ahead.
***
“Norris is approaching on a flying lap. Make sure not to impede,” Claudio’s voice comes through crisp and clear over the radio during the dying moments of Q3 for the Monaco Grand Prix.
You can practically feel Charles’ concentration from where you’re seated on the Ferrari pit wall. The narrow streets of Monaco leave no room for error … Charles knows this better than most.
“Copy,” Charles responds, adjusting his position on the track just enough to give Lando the space he needs to pass while keeping his own momentum.
The clock is ticking and Charles needs a perfect lap if he wants to clinch pole position.
“Tires are feeling good. Pushing now,” Charles says, rounding the first corner with precision. The SF-24 dances around the iconic circuit, the roar of its engine echoing through the streets.
From Casino Square to the hairpin and through the tunnel, Charles’ driving is flawless. Every apex hit and every corner nailed.
“Final sector, Charles. Make it count,” Claudio encourages.
And he does. Crossing the line and jumping to the top of the timing board.
The garage cheers but there’s no time to waste. Tomorrow��s race is what truly matters.
***
Race day in Monaco is always special, but today, with Charles starting from pole, there’s an electric tension in the air.
“Lights out in ten,” Marit announces over the intercom.
Charles, already in the zone, simply nods.
And then he’s lined up on the front row.
The lights illuminate one by one. Then, in a heartbeat, they go out.
The race is on.
Charles gets a strong start, holding off challengers through the initial turns. The streets of Monaco are notoriously difficult for overtaking, so track position is everything.
“Maintain the pace. Tire management is key,” Claudio advises as the laps progress.
As the race unfolds, strategy becomes crucial.
“Plan to box in two laps,” Marit instructs through Claudio. With with Verstappen close on his tail, everything must be executed perfectly.
The pit stop is lightning-fast, the crew working in synchrony. Charles emerges just ahead of Max, who had followed him into the pits.
Throughout the race, Charles’ skill shines. He manages his tires, navigates the backmarkers, and keeps a razor-sharp focus.
The final laps approach. The team, the spectators, the entire Principality holds its breath.
The chequered flag waves and Charles crosses the finish line to takes his first home win. The elation, the pride, the sheer emotion of the moment is overwhelming.
“Monaco, Charles! You’ve won Monaco!”
Tears in his eyes, Charles responds, voice choked, “We did it! This is for Monaco. This is for Ferrari. Grazie mille. Merci beaucoup.”
The team gathers beneath the podium, celebrating their victory and the hometown here. Charles quickly sprays the two drivers beside him before aiming the bottle at the sea of red cheering in front of him and soaking his team in champagne.
He thinks back to how this weekend ended last season and let’s his elation wash away the years of dejected he faced before.
Things are different now.
***
“I’ve never seen Monaco come alive like this after a win,” you shout over the pulsating music in one of the city’s many upscale clubs.
Charles grins, leaning in closer so you can hear him. “It’s the magic of a home race victory!”
As the night turns to early morning, alcohol flows freer and the laughter grows louder.
The Ferrari team loves any reason to celebrate and they’re certainly making the most of the location.
Charles pulls you to a quieter corner of the VIP section. “Have you ever danced with a Monaco Grand Prix winner?”
You roll your eyes at the attempt at flirting but laugh as you accept his outstretched hand. “There’s a first time for everything.”
The two of you dance, losing track of time.
The world blurs around you. All that matters is the magnetic pull between you two which has been simmering for so long that it is threatening to overflow.
Charles pulls you closer, his lips brushing your ear. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
You relish in the warmth of his breath against your skin. “What’s that?”
“I’m drawn to you,” he admits, eyes searching yours. “Not just because of tonight but ... there’s something between us. I feel it. And I think you do too.”
You swallow hard. “I do.”
He hesitates before wrapping an arm around your waist, “Come with me.”
Without a word, you both exit the club, making your way to his apartment. The air between you is thick with anticipation but also vulnerability … openness.
Once inside, he gently pushes you against the wall, lips crashing onto yours. It’s passionate and intense, like a dam that has been waiting to break.
Charles pulls away slightly, “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whisper, eyes locked with his. “But ... Charles, not just for tonight. I don’t want this to be just a result of a victory high or the Monaco night air.”
He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “I don’t want that either. This isn’t about the race or the party. It’s about us. I think it’s been about us for a while now.”
“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”
He chuckles softly. “You think it’s easy, being around you every day, wanting to be close but maintaining a distance for the sake of professionalism? To spend every evening when we’re in Maranello sitting across from you at dinner and wishing that I could call it a date? But tonight,” he pauses, eyes searching yours, “Tonight felt different.”
You waste no time to draw him closer. “No more waiting then.”
***
Canada’s Circuit Gilles Villeneuve echoes with the roar of engines and the cheers of fans. Charles dominates the track, mastering the chicanes and the notorious Wall of Champions.
But the race isn’t straightforward. Mid-race, strategy suddenly changes when an unexpected rain shower soaks the track. However, the new strategy team you’ve brought in makes all the right calls and Charles takes the chequered flag.
In the Spanish sun, it’s a different story. The high-speed corners expose a slight flaw in the SF-24 which leaves Charles fighting valiantly but finishing third.
Despite the setback, you see determination in his eyes. “We’ll get them in Austria,” he promises.
True to his word, at the Red Bull Ring, he dominates. The SF-24 suits the straights and fast corners. Charles takes pole and leads every lap, building a gap that the competition can’t close. The victory feels even sweeter given the circuit’s name.
Silverstone proves challenging. There’s fierce competition, and while Charles doesn’t win, he’s involved in one of the most thrilling wheel-to-wheel battles of the season with Max Verstappen. They exchange positions multiple times, showing pure racing talent. In the end, Charles finishes a proud second after a photo finish.
The Hungarian Grand Prix tests the team. Tire strategy becomes paramount. The SF-24 shows vulnerabilities in the surprisingly sweltering conditions. Still, Charles’ impeccable driving and some cunning strategy calls earn him a place on the podium.
At the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, Charles shines brilliantly. He conquers Eau Rouge and Raidillon like few can, making it seem effortless. The SF-24 feels perfectly balanced and he takes another win, smiling at the Ferrari flags waving high in the crowd as the Monegasque and Italian anthems play.
Through it all, you see Charles grow not just as a driver but as a leader and beacon of hope for the team and global fanbase. He is not just driving for himself or for Ferrari, he drives for everyone who believes in him.
***
The warm Italian sun pours golden light onto the expansive villa overlooking Lake Como. The water below sparkles, mirroring the sky. For a brief moment, the hectic world of Formula 1 feels miles away.
You’re lounging under an oversized umbrella, Aperol Spritz in hand, while Charles emerges from the pool, beads of water cascading down his toned physique.
“That swim was perfect,” Charles grins as he flops down beside you.
“You were in there for ages! Trying to turn into a fish?”
He shakes his head like a wet puppy, making you squeal as you try to escape the splashes. “Just preparing for our yacht trip. Besides, I have to burn off all those pasta dinners we’ve been having or else I won’t fit in the car by the end of the month.”
“The troubles of a professional athlete,” you laugh, “I’ve been indulging and I’m not even sorry.”
That evening, the two of you share a quiet moment on the terrace. Soft jazz floats from inside and cicadas buzz rhythmically.
“Remember our first race together?” Charles starts. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“I never imagined we’d be here. But I am so glad that we are.”
He meets your gaze, his eyes reflecting the same heat you feel. “Me too. These moments, away from the track with you ... they’re special.”
The following week, you find yourselves on a luxurious yacht off the coast of Sardinia. Charles’ family and both of your friends are aboard. The sun decks echo with laughter, music, and the soft lapping of waves. There is never a quiet moment and you relish in the sounds of happiness.
As you stand by the railing, watching Charles and Joris race each other on jet-skis, Arthur slides up beside you. “So, how’s life with my big brother?”
You laugh, “It’s an adventure every day. But honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”
Arthur nods, “I’ve never seen him this happy, you know?”
You smile warmly, your gaze drifting to where Charles has somehow fallen into the water and is now splashing his friend. “He brings out the best in me, just as I hope I do for him.”
***
The gentle lapping of the Mediterranean waves seems like a distant memory as you find yourself in Zandvoort.
“Quite the change of scenery, isn’t it?” Charles chuckles, standing beside you as the sea breeze of the Dutch coast tousles his hair.
You laugh, “A bit but I’ve missed it. Nothing beats the excitement of a race weekend.”
And what a weekend it was. Charles, against all odds, comes out on top at Max Verstappen’s home race. The Dutch crowd offer begrudging respect as Charles takes the top step.
And then, Monza.
Monza is different. There’s an electricity in the air that cannot be replicated anywhere else. It’s the home race of Ferrari … the cathedral of speed.
“Do you know,” you tell Charles as you both walk through the paddock, “I used to come here with my grandfather as a child. This track ... it’s steeped in history. I’ve always loved it.”
“Winning here was like nothing else I have ever experience,” he reflects. “Let’s do it again. We’ll write our own chapter in history this weekend.”
Qualifying is a nail-biter. Charles pushes the SF-24 to its limits, dancing on the edge of control.
“How are we looking?” Charles checks in.
“You’re on provisional pole,” Claudio responds over the radio. “But push on the last sector. Max is close and getting closer.”
And push he does. Charles clinches pole with a margin that leaves no doubts about the capabilities of both the driver and the car.
Race day, the atmosphere is fever-pitched. The Tifosi, in their sea of red, wave their flags and banners, chanting Charles’ name like a prayer. As the lights go out, the battle rages. The strategy is aggressive, a one-stop that requires Charles to defend position in the latter stages of the race.
“Lap 45. Push now, we need widen this gap,” Claudio instructs.
The tires scream in protest as Charles further carves out a lead. But as the laps tick down, Verstappen and Piastri close in.
“Drive smart and hold them off. Four laps to go. You’ve got this,” Claudio urges him on.
Going wheel-to-wheel with Max through the Ascari chicane, Charles pulls ahead. The Tifosi roar, their energy and sheer will pushing him on.
“Last lap. Bring it home!”
And he does.
As Charles crosses the finish line, the crowd erupts. The track is soon packed with red as fans flood the track, surrounding the podium.
From the sea of faces, one voice stands out — yours, “You did it, Charles. Monza is yours.”
He lifts the trophy high, a tear in his eye, “We did it. This is for Ferrari … for the Tifosi … for us.”
***
The streets of Baku and the lights of Singapore both witness the magic that Charles and the SF-24 weave together. Two more wins, two more steps closer to the championship.
And then you find yourselves in Texas.
“Do you remember this time last year?” Charles asks.
“How could I forget? It was the phone call that changed everything.”
Charles laughs but there’s a weight to it, “For both of us. It was a disaster ... pole to sixth and then the disqualification. All because of...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, the mismanagement of the team a heavy shadow neither of you can forget.
“You’ve grown since then,” you point out gently, “The team has grown. Look at where we are now.”
He nods, taking a deep breath, “One year. So much has changed. From one of the worst days in my racing career to ... this.” Charles gestures around, to the revamped team, the transformed car, the very atmosphere of competence that permeates every corner of the Ferrari garage.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he whispers, “The championship is within our grasp. Right back where it all went wrong.”
You take a moment to pull out your laptop and open a data sheet, “Here’s the breakdown. If Max gets P2 in both the sprint and the race, you need P1 in both. That’s how we seal the championship this weekend.”
Charles’ eyes scan the spreadsheet, “That’s ... a tall order.”
“But not impossible. Not for you and not for this team,” you assure him.
He chuckles again but it’s brighter now, “With you in my corner? I know anything is possible.”
***
The energy is electric when qualifying day arrives in Austin. You find Charles in his driver’s room, eyes closed in focus as he visualizes the track.
“You ready for this?”
His eyes pop open, determination burning in them. “Ready. Let’s show them what we can do.”
Qualifying unfolds in a blur of fast laps and bated breath. Charles pushes the limits, wrestling the SF-24 around the bumpy circuit.
“Time for one more lap. Give it your all here,” Claudio radioes through.
Jaw set, Charles squeezes all he can from the SF-24. Silence falls as he crosses the line … broken by cheers as his new lap time is set.
Pole position for the second season in a row.
Charles sheds his helmet and rips off his balaclava. “Yes! That’s how we start a weekend!”
The sprint shootout and race similarly see Charles launch cleanly from P1, building a gap early.
“Verstappen is matching your pace, don’t let him get within DRS range,” Claudio advises.
“Copy,” Charles responds, focused.
A late charge from Max raises tensions but Charles keeps him at bay, taking the chequered flag and the eight points.
“That’s the way to do it!” You shout as Charles enters the garage.
“Grand Slam in the sprint, now time for the main event,” he grins.
You rally the team Sunday morning. “Remember, the start is crucial. The car that lines up in P2 has led by the end of lap 1 for five years in a row. We need full focus.”
It seems like barely any time has passed before Charles takes his spot on the grid. Lights out, tires screeching, he holds the lead through the first lap madness.
“Nicely done,” Claudio praises. “Manage those tires now.”
The pit stop strategy is executed flawlessly. Charles takes his second stop, emerging ahead of a charging Verstappen.
“Ten laps remaining,” Claudio counts down.
Charles responds with measured confidence, “Let’s bring it home.”
In the closing laps, he is poetry in motion, hitting each apex and maximizing every straight. Max closes in but Charles is perfect to the millimeter.
“Charles Leclerc,” Claudio’s voice cracks with emotion, “you are the World Champion!”
Eyes wet, Charles radios in, “Yes! Yes! Yes! We did it! Thank you guys! This is unbelievable! Grazie, grazie mille, grazie a tutti! It’s been an incredible season with all of you. This is for the team, for Ferrari, for all the fans, and for everyone who has supported me. We brought it back to Maranello! I’m speechless ... grazie, thank you!”
In the garage, celebrations in full swing, you lean in with a laugh, “Don’t worry, I checked with the FIA — the plank is up to regulation this time.”
Grinning, Charles pulls you into a passionate kiss as the team hoots and hollers around you.
The World Champion smiles so bright he makes the Texan sun look dull in comparison.
You would do anything to make sure he feels like this every season. You will do anything to make sure he feels like this every season.
***
The winter sun casts a warm glow on Maranello as you walk beside Charles into the Ferrari factory. The off-season buzz of activity fills the air as the team prepares for next year’s challenges.
Charles looks at the sleek lines of the new SF-25 with anticipation. “She’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see what she can do.”
“This one’s special. She’ll be fighting for the championship again.”
“Yeah?”
“You heard me right,” you say with a smile. “I made you a promise. Last season was just the beginning.”
As Charles turns for a briefing, you spot Fred across the room. Your relationship has evolved and he now respects the authority you wield for the team’s benefit.
Approaching, you extend a hand. “I wanted to say, you’ve led the team well this past season.”
He grasps it firmly. “We share this success. Thank you for being the catalyst we needed”
You know there will still be challenges ahead. But Ferrari has been reinvigorated. Its racing spirit has been reignited.
That evening, Charles joins you on the terrace of the home you both share when in Maranello and wraps you both in a warm blanket to fight the chill. “Can you believe what a year it’s been?”
You shake your head. “It’s been a dream.”
He pulls you close. “The dream is just beginning and it’s a dream I hope we never wake up from.”
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wonijinjin · 3 months
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being in a relationship with kim mingyu: silly headcanons
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synopsis: my silly thoughts on how it would be to live and be in a relationship with mingyu, @babyleostuff thank you for helping me list these and listening to me talking about these scenarios i loved it
word count: 1.2k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: mingyu x f! reader | warnings: mentions of dresses, food, diets, reader being overall somewhat smaller than mingyu
- okay so mingyu is a goofy man we all know this, but here are some things about living with him and being his girlfriend that would make you go crazy (in both good and bad ways)
- he would scare the shit out of you every morning since his little confused puppy face and messy hair directly in your face would be such a shocker every single time you wake up in the same bed as him, especially if you went to bed alone and he snuck into bed during the night if he worked late. this would result in you screaming you head off and him being so surprised aswell he might even fall off the bed lmao.
- sleeping with him also includes him being the most comfortable pillow ever, but there would be a price you would have to pay for it; he would get on top of you during the night, kinda like a nice free weighed blanket, except the fact that he would be so heavy after some time you couldn’t breathe and would have to hit him continuously until he wakes up.
- this man would definitely be a pathological liar when it comes to stories about him being brave over something, like my man literally caught a single fly or bug and he would be like “yeah that’s right i tamed a 10 meters long python.” also he would not shut up about it, bringing it up every time there’s a chance, but when you would actually need help getting rid of an insect he would run away crying like the baby he is.
- he would love to cook for you, but would turn into the biggest clutz when you are in charge in the kitchen; you would be peacefully cooking when he would come into the room upon smelling the fruit of your hard work, making everything go wrong; the moment this man appears next to you with the sentence “oh my god i wanna help you you know how much i love cooking, especially with you.” your peace and quiet would be over, in the end resulting in you having to clean up all the mess he made while he sits on the couch as a punishment after you scolded him. (after this incident you would probably never allow him to help you cook, only the other way around)
- he adores sundresses and overall cutesy summer clothes, you cannot tell me otherwise, he would be hypnotised by the way the dress looked on you, trying to match his shirt with it. he would be spinning you around all day to some kind of music, loving the way the dress flows, how the fabric feels on his hands, and how cute you look in his arms, really making the moment feel like a real fairytale.
- mingyu’s brain works faster than light so it is really hard to understand what he says, since he’s always talking with such speed which would result in you having to stop him every 5 minutes to tell him to slow down and him being confused about why you cannot keep up with him, saying that he always talks like this. (mingyu babes that doesn’t mean it was understandable before lmao)
- another thing connected to him speaking is his cute little lisp; you would always tease him for it (as you do for everything else) in a cute way and he would be such a drama queen saying that you were the meanest, when in reality you loved it so much you could burst from affection every time this man opened his mouth.
- he would insist on driving you everywhere; doesn’t matter if you have your drivers licence or not mingyu would love you to be his passenger princess. he would put on sunglassses to seem cool while he is driving with one hand, his other on your thigh, looking at you from time to time while you stared at him shamelessly, drooling over how good he looked while driving.
- no matter how much of an organised person you are, you would probably have little arguments with him about you not washing the dishes right after cooking or leaving your books or other personal belongings scattered around the house. he just cannot help it, he is a clean freak.
- mingyu would try to be romantic by catching you off guard with a kiss, but would bump his forehead with yours and would have to tend to the ache in both of your temples after the incident, making him sulky and worried about you, and of course ashamed that he was clumsy yet again. (don’t worry you would laugh it off, making it up to him by giving him many many kisses)
- people would always assume that he wore the pants in the relationship but in reality i think your roles would be very well balanced. he may be a gentle person but he wouldn’t be afraid to speak up on your behalf if needed, always prioritising your protection.
- he would let you do his skincare to cheer you up when you had a bad day, since your stress relief comes from babying him (like fr who wouldn’t want to baby this cutie?), so he would be patiently sitting while you applied every serum and sheet mask existing on the planet to his face.
- his hugs are one of the best things in the world, being engulfed by his large frame would always be so comforting, him letting you inhale the scent of his cologne for as long as you need.
- he is a gymrat as everyone knows, and he would insist on you going to the gym with him at least once. you don’t have to worry if you are not a gym girly, because he wants you there to help him; he would ask you to sit on his back while doing pushups, or to get on top of some of the equipment, basically he would use you as human weights, kissing you every time he came up to where you were positioned, sheepishly smiling at you as you watched his big muscles work in awe.
- he would get so shy and giggly if you complimented him, like he has a big ego of course he knows he is handsome, but if the praise comes from you he would be melting and giggling like the babygirl he is.
- he loves to eat and loves meat; finding him grilling randomly in the backyard of the house at like midnight wouldn’t be a surprising occurrence.
- mingyu would stuff you full of food every chance he gets, no questions asked. he eats very well as we know (as he should!) because well for those muscles and the amount of workouts he does he needs the energy to be fair; whenever he eats you need to have a bite with him too, even if you say you are dieting or aren’t hungry he doesn’t care; he just feeds you. you cannot escape especially if he is cooking for you.
- he loves to drink from time to time so on occasions when you would join him he would forget how big of a man he really is and would definitely try to lean on you for support as he would be so drunk, only to realise that he is basically crushing you to death lmao.
- he is a man with a childlike heart, so he would try to fit his tall ass figure into such small spaces, which would definitely result in needing your help to pull him out of like children’s playground swings and stuff, poor guy would be whining so loudly about his everything hurting the next day.
- lastly and most importantly; he loves you so much he would let you do (and get him do to) anything without hesitation, and whatever bad thing you did he would never get angry at you, you are just his baby and to him you cannot do any harm even if you told him you burned his house off.
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say-al0e · 1 month
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
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Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
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number1jeonginstan · 4 months
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A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!
Minors don't interact, 18+
Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader
WC: 3k (oh!)
Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)
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Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 
“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”
Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.
“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”
“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 
He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 
Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 
“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 
Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 
You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 
He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 
He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 
He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 
He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.
He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 
He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 
You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 
The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 
Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 
You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 
You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 
“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 
He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 
“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 
“Am not” 
“Are too”  
Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 
You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 
“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 
You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.
Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 
“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 
“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 
“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 
“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 
Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.
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You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 
You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 
You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 
The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.
Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?
You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 
You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 
But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?
If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 
That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 
He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 
Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 
His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.
“Jinnie-ah” 
He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 
“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 
His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 
You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 
That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 
“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  
You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”
He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 
“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.
“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 
“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 
“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 
“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 
Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 
“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 
“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.
He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 
His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 
He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 
“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 
“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 
“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 
He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  
He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 
“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.
“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 
“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 
“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 
“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 
“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 
That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 
“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 
He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 
“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.
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simpjaes · 3 months
Text
take the back-seat part two. (p.js & s.jy)
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Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, the thirteen hour drive to the beach where he watched you get railed by his best friend in the backseat, or the five days he’s gonna be spending there knowing he is expected to watch—or join, whichever.
– read part one here! 
minors do not interact, otherwise― pls reblog my works
WC ― 14.3k
PARING ―  jay x afab reader x jake 
TAGS ― vacation setting, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy (both jay & jake), implications of a budding poly relationship, there’s a lot of dialogue to depict character development regarding the whole inviting jake thing. 
!!WARNINGS!! ― jay is a little touchy with jake, if you don’t like it, sounds like a you problem. 
A/N― reminder that this fic is a revamp from one i wrote over on my other blog! here is part two :D enjoy! 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― borderline infidelity (jay is into but doesn’t wanna admit it), finger fucking, neglected cock syndrome, hair pulling, jay teaches jake how to fuck his girl, jay basically moves jake like a puppet, cum stuffing, humiliation/degradation, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What Jake feels for the remainder of that drive was unexplainable. Looking at you through the mirror with Jay next to you…it felt,for lack of a better word, different. Sure, he’s walked in on the two of you before, and watched for a little too long but, this is different. He personally saw Jay stuff you full and not only that but he saw your face as it happened. You spoke for him, to him , and he didn’t even get his ass kicked by Jay after the fact.
The feelings in his head swirl around like a forming tornado threatening to touch down and cause him to lose all sanity. Five days with you two locked in this beach house with nothing but freedom at your feet. Worse, even when the three of you go home, he’s just locked in a different space with the two of you until he gets back on his feet. Jake isn’t even sure if he wants to leave now. On one hand, he wants to start running just to get away from the overwhelming embarrassment, on the other, he thinks he might like it. He thinks the two of you might like him being around to see too. 
“Is this going to be a normal thing?” Jake remembers asking Jay inside of the bathroom at the gas station. What was Jay’s response? “ Maybe, if you keep wanting to catch us.” 
What to do, what to do, with a lust so hungry Jake feels like it’s eating him from the inside out? Catch you on purpose? Stalk your private moments with his best friend just to get another taste of that bliss just out of reach? Not even a taste actually. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay drags his feet as he carries your bags along with his own. He’s acting normal despite the constant groaning about how his legs hurt after certain endeavors on top of the thirteen-hour car ride. You stay close to him, attempting to snatch a few bags so that he would at least stop crying about the very deed he wanted to do during the ride. 
Jake stays behind, quietly carrying in his things and avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk so as to not scratch his new suitcase set (and so he doesn’t break his mother’s back). One headphone in, he barely hears the two of you as he opts to try and escape the madness outside of the audio in his ear. That is, until he gets inside the beach house.
“Okay so, hear me out–” Jay smiles at Jake, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. “Listen, Jake. Just,” Jay puts his hands out in front of him, stepping both left and right to continuously block Jake’s path. 
“There’s only one bedroom.” You announce, breaking Jay’s plan of trying to convince Jake that it would be a sick idea for him to watch more . 
Jay did know. Of course he fucking knew, he’s the one who booked the place. You didn’t know, but he also knew you’d play along anyway. Given, Jay hadn’t completely planned the whole car thing so it’s kind of awkward now. Despite always wanting to be caught, watched, and envied, Jay really didn’t think past the idea of causing Jake inner turmoil with this rental.
“S’cool. I’ll take the couch.” Jake waves off, dropping his bags and looking around the space.
Your eyes drop before Jay’s do. 
“Wait, no,” Jay groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you can still sleep in there with us. There’s two beds.”
Two beds. So it was intentional to put Jake in a position he couldn’t resist, huh?
“The idea was to invite you to watch. Surely you’ve caught on to everything by now, right?” Jay looks at Jake with an apologetic stare. “It’s kind of awkward now inviting you, but I thought you’d be happy to take us up on the offer, especially after our little talk…”
Jake looks to the floor with tinted red flushing over his cheeks. 
“You really couldn’t just wait to get here first before sitting him down and discussing?” You ask, scolding your boyfriend despite the fact that you played at least fifty percent into his on-the-fly plan on the ride over here.
“You looked hot and he was tired.” Jay states the obvious with a careless shrug. 
Jake is just standing there trying his best not to let his mouth fall open. Jay really wants to propose that he should just watch? Nothing else? Just fucking watch?
 Ka-ching. It’s little to grasp at, but Jake’s gonna take it. After seeing everything and hearing you, why wouldn’t he? His best friend is practically giving him the ability to watch you be pleasured. 
“Okay,” Jake stops both of you from bickering. “Let’s discuss it now then.” He adds, averting his eyes from both you and your boyfriend to avoid showing how much interest he actually has in this little vacation plan.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
After a long and drawn out discussion, rules were set into place. Rule number one, Jake cannot touch you under any circumstance. You were quick to side eye your boyfriend’s best friend during that moment, noting the disappointed look that washed across his face. Rule number two, Jake can request things he wants to see, but if either you or Jay are uncomfortable with it, the request can be ignored. Rule number three, you can talk to Jake while it happens and he can talk back, but Jay will more than likely use every opportunity he finds to humiliate him for it. 
Jake doesn’t falter at any of the rules except for the first one, mostly because it’s going to be hard to not want to touch you. He assumes that’s part of the fun for Jay though. He feels embarrassed accepting the terms, awkward as he places his bags in the shared room the three of you will be sleeping in, and restless at the way reality hits him. You, his best friend’s girlfriend, want him to see. 
You want him to get off to you. 
He feels a bit shameful about it. After all, Jay has been his best friend for fucking years at this point and he’s a little unnerved that none of this is making him feel as weird as it should be. Should Jake really be excited about watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend? Probably not, but he is, and he just assumes this is another ‘ weird’ thing he likes added to his list. 
“Hey–” Jay nods his head towards Jake as you walk out of the room for a shower. You did your best to clean up at the gas station too but, to be fair, the bathroom was just as dirty and cum-covered as you were, probably.  
“Yeah?” Jake looks over at him, unzipping his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. Mostly so he can hop in the shower after you’re done. 
“You sure you’re cool with this? I know I kind of did a lot of this intentionally, but really, if you’re uncomfortable I’d rather you just tell us–”
“No!” Jake argues at an embarrassingly desperate pitch. “I mean, no.” He clears his throat as he corrects himself, and then does his best to avoid eye contact by focusing solely on digging for his toiletries. 
“That’s what I thought,” Jay smiles knowingly at him, internally writing a list of things he can do to torture Jake, a list specifically made to cause envy and probably resentment. 
“So, like,” Jake swallows, still unsure of his footing in this situation. “When will it happen again?” 
Jay actually laughs at him this time. 
“Oh, you thought–” He shakes his head and goes to take off his shirt. “No, no. Jake. You’re still gonna have to catch us to watch.” He explains, throwing his shirt on the presumed “cuck chair” in the room.
“Wait, what?” Jake is confused. They want him to watch, but they’re still going to make him go through the embarrassment of catching them? 
“That’s the fun part of it for me,” Jay tries to clear it up. “I like the surprise of someone seeing. I like the reactions. It’s exciting,” He continues, now stopping to really look at Jake. “Looks like you enjoy watching, so–”
Jake nods slightly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow.  “For the record, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. You kind of made it hard not to see things.” 
“I know.” Jay laughs. “Gotta get creative on weeknights when there's no parties going on.”
“You do it at parties? Like just right there in public ?”
Jay nods with a smug smile. 
“A lot of people don’t even notice, but the ones that do–” Jay’s eyes nearly light up. “They always watch. They don’t even pretend to look away.” 
Jake feels a little bit flushed at the idea of attending a party with the two of you. He couldn’t imagine being put in a situation where he, along with several others, get to watch you orgasm. 
“She likes that?” Jake asks, a little shocked.
“I mean, she gets really into it but I can admit that she seems to like when you watch a lot more.” Jay glares for a second. “Which again, kind of pisses me off.”
Jake waves him off, trying to act nonchalant about it. 
“I hope you know that this is more of a trial run, Jake. If she gets bored of you, she probably won’t be as into it later.”
Okay, ouch. Fair, though. Jake would never stick around if it’s not something you want. He can already sense that Jay didn’t want it this way either. Maybe Jake watching was exciting, but he does sense a bit of tenseness in the air each time Jay brings up how you lusted over him so blatantly in the car. 
“And if she doesn’t get bored?” Jake counters and Jay kind of takes internal offense to it. Passive aggressively chuckling towards him. 
“Oh, she will.” Jay says as a way to assure himself rather than answering Jake. “I’m the only person she doesn’t get bored of.” 
  Jake, for some reason, takes that as a challenge. He might be the one getting the short end of the stick here, but the only reason he’s getting a stick at all is because of you. Regardless of if Jay wanted him to watch, surely he never wanted you to like it as much as you do. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well, competition is one way to put it. Jay resents himself forever even trying to get Jake all flustered. He did it because he wanted to be watched, but he also wanted Jake to be fucking jealous. How the hell is he supposed to be jealous when you, his own girlfriend, got entirely too wet for another man while he was buried in you?
Playing it as cool as he can, Jay is still excited, just a little less now that he knows he’s going to have to fight for your attention. Those set rules? Between you and Jay, neither of you had to actually follow those rules. Jake can do what he wants at your discretion, but it’s not like Jay is gonna just tell him that. He was shocked that you pressed to let Jake join just one time. His whole fantasy is about being watched during a private act, not inviting someone to actively play a part in it. Nevertheless, he granted you a small nod when you suggested it, sternly letting out a small “ just this once. ”
Sure, he’s the one who fucked you in the car and he’s the one who told you to talk to Jake but, it’s not like he expected the outcome that came from it. It was a moment of lust where he thought it would be hot to see you unable to speak because you’re being fucked– but no. You were speaking to Jake and riding him harder because of whatever the fuck was going on up in that front seat. 
Naturally, your boyfriend has that mischievous little glint in his eye when you return from the shower and Jake opts to steal the bathroom before he can. 
“You are aware that you’re getting more out of this than I am, right?” Jay laughs, pulling you from your stance and flopping you down onto the bed. “I just wanted him to be jealous, you’re ruining my fantasy.”
You smile at him with the same mischievous little glint. 
“And you’re an amazing boyfriend for letting me try something new,” You praise, kissing the tip of his nose when he crawls on top of you. “I’m sorry that it’s hot knowing two guys want me this badly.”
Jay sighs, dropping his face to your neck to smell the soap against your skin. Of course, you’d be into that. His thing is people being jealous of what he gets and your thing just has to be the idea of being wanted. It fits a little too well. 
“Bet you weren’t even planning to put anything on for bed tonight, were you?” He laughs with a groan, cursing how willing he is to let you have whatever you want despite not wanting to give Jake what he wants. 
“Bingo,” You smile evilly, pulling away from Jay so you can see his face. “Plus, it’s hot seeing you get all possessive. That’s new, even for you.”
Jay once again sighs with a groan. 
“Promise you won’t like, up and leave me for my best friend?”
Realizing there’s a bit of truth behind his concerns, you stiffen a bit.
“You know I wouldn’t do that. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he can pleasure me better, or treat me better.” 
Finally, a genuine smile breaks across his face and it makes you feel warm. 
“Do you wanna play a little tonight?” He offers, wiggling on top of you with a newfound desire over the fact that you always know how to silence even the slightest of insecurity he feels. 
 “After everything from the ride over? I’m tired, Jay, really.” You admit with a pout. 
“I’m not tired yet. Just let me do the work, you can just rest–” He tries to convince you and it works, much like it always does. 
Jay is doing this specifically for you. It’s not like he always needs to be seen when the two of you are intimate. It’s nice sometimes seeing you act real for him. Seeing your underwhelming and soft reactions to whatever he’s doing because you both know that you’re not putting on a show. He can admit to loving the way you still moan for him despite knowing nobody but him can hear it. 
Even knowing Jake will be in the bed next to yours at any moment, you think Jay can get away with whatever he wants to do privately . And for the most part, he does. At least, at first he does. 
Lying on your back with a leg thrown over Jay’s lower half as his fingers trace lazy circles against your bare skin, you knew his fingers were going lower and lower, but it’s relaxing even as your eyes fight to stay open. 
When Jake comes back into the room, hair still dripping a bit at his failure to dry it properly, you don’t move or react outside of a sleepy glance at him. 
“Hey, you ready to hit the sack?” Jay calls out, fingers moving lower on your stomach and landing just above where your panties would sit if you were wearing any under this robe. 
“Yeah. Water ran cold though, might wanna wait a little bit before you shower, Sorry.” Jake admits with shame, not making eye contact with either of you as he flops himself onto his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is something you’ve seen him wear time and time again at home, but man, why does it look so hot now?
Jay laughs, kind of like an ‘of course there's no hot water for me’ laugh, but he doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s having fun lulling you to sleep with a gentle finger fuck session behind Jake’s back.
The room goes silent save for the television that Jay flips to some random reality show. You’re still focused on his fingers, more gentle than he normally would be. Still, it’s probably just because, for once, he doesn’t want Jake to know what’s happening. 
When your boyfriend’s fingers finally make their way to your clit, it’s not shocking that you’re already wet. Your breathing is still even, and it feels good to be touched right now. You turn your head only slightly to look at Jake. He’s so endearing to look at. Never once have you seen him preparing himself for sleep. For some reason, it feels intimate seeing his bedtime rituals. 
With one hand scratching against his hair, he’s on his side and practically hugging his pillow against his head as he fixes his eyes on the television. You can see how heavy his eyes are. He was already tired when he first started his shift of driving, and the back seat didn’t offer much in terms of a nap. You imagine if he knew what Jay was doing, he wouldn’t have the energy to participate anyway. 
You, though, are feeling a little bit more awake since your clit is being beautifully stimulated by your boyfriend. Jake’s supposed to be watching you with this little deal, but there were no rules that you couldn’t watch him and fantasize, right?
Jay is a little shocked when you hold his hand in place and turn to face Jake. You close your eyes at first, mostly so it still looks like you’re about to sleep, but you press Jay’s fingers a bit lower, urging him to penetrate you with them. 
He, like the amazing boyfriend he is, follows suit with a curious stare at the back of your head. Then, he turns on his side behind you and spoons you, adjusting his position so that he can swoop his hand under your ass and between your legs in order to do just as you ask of him.
Jay knows what you’re doing, but opts not to say anything despite really wanting to. He assumes Jake is blissfully unaware, somehow, so saying something would turn this whole situation into something more than any of you actually feel like doing tonight.
This goes smoothly for a few minutes, with his fingers gently and silently plunging in and out of you. Honestly, Jay is too good with his fingers and he’s being too quiet compared to normal, again, because of Jake. You know you shouldn’t be including him right now, but you are, even if secretly. 
A breath falls from your lips when Jay rubs his fingers against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending a wave of warmth down your body and dripping out against his fingers. 
“Feels good?” He whispers against your ear, noting the way your breathing is a bit more audible. “Don’t forget that I’m the one touching you, baby.”  He adds in an even quieter whisper. 
You let out a small groan in response, very small. Just loud enough for Jake to fix his eyes on you to find you blatantly staring back at him.
You smile at him and press your ass back against Jay just a little bit, and he’s quick to move his fingers quicker inside of you.
Jake just looks at you, processing that it’s already happening again. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The summer air is salty but all too grounding for Jake as he sits on his towel and watches the way you and Jay appear to be as comfortable as ever wrestling on the shore of the sea. Even after last night, part of him wonders what actually happened but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask. Not only did you look at him as you hit your climax, but Jake was made aware that he needed to be silent in watching you due to your finger coming up to your mouth in a shushing action.
His eyes darted to Jay when you did that but he appeared to be a great actor as he watched the tv with his head tucked between your shoulder and neck, fingers plunging in and out of you casually. Even when Jake gently fucked his own fist, staring directly back at you, he realized that this shared moment with you was something Jay wasn’t aware of. It blurs the lines a bit of what is okay and what isn’t, but the rule is that Jake can watch if he catches the act. He guesses you’re the one breaking rules.
Even now, as he processes this newfound sexual adventure in his head, he’s fond of the relationship Jay has with you. Incredibly jealous, of course, but also just– Jake wants what Jay has.He wouldn’t share you, he wouldn’t want people to see him pleasure you, and he certainly wouldn’t want Jay’s cock to make an appearance at any point during his relationship with you, but you’re not his. 
Still, the two of you seem to enjoy this kind of thing, and the fact that Jake appears to be the chosen third to take part makes him feel warm. Despite his jealousy, he respects the relationship you have with his best friend for the most part. There’s still that selfishness inside him though, the thought of being able to be between your legs rather than just a person to look at across the room? It drives him insane. Jay gets to flaunt you, make you feel good, and make you moan but, Jake is very aware that he got all of your attention the night before, even if it wasn’t his own fingers doing it to you. He got your attention in the car too, to the point of Jay showing his own jealousy. 
Again, there’s a thin line between what he’s allowed to do and infidelity. If you ask him to do anything though, he’s going to do it. He’s going to be what you want or need at any given moment simply because he’s a single man forced to live with his extremely sexually adventurous friends, and you happen to be incredibly fucking arousing to him. Jay kind of did it to himself. Never would Jake have fantasized about you like this if it weren’t for the fact that Jay desperately wants people to see his cock inside of you.
“Hey!” You shout from the shore, pulling Jake out of his thoughts. 
He waves back to you and then glances at Jay who has a huge smile on his face. Jake watches as you struggle to leave the water, the weight of the waves pushing and pulling you as you look at him. He stands to his feet, kicking off some of the sand on his legs, and makes his way towards you as well, meeting you in the middle. 
“I’m gonna have a snack, go waterboard my boyfriend.” You joke when you stop in front of him. 
“There’s chips in my bag if you want any.” Jake waves you off, realizing how normal the communication is between the two of you. In the silence, the communication is somehow more intimate.
When Jake makes his way down to the water, straight up to his best friend, for some reason he still feels like he’s walking on eggshells with all of this. Not with you though, because you clearly know what you want. Jay, on the other hand, shows that he’s annoyed over his plan becoming more of a pleasure for everyone but him.
“You’re not hungry?” Jake asks, dipping himself lower into the water and shivering at the ocean breeze. 
“Nah, we’re finally here. I’m staying in the water ‘til I’m forced to leave.” 
“Ah, good plan.” Jake confirms, allowing himself to float back a bit with the waves.
“Are we okay?” Jay suddenly asks, standing to his feet and looking down at him. “You really are allowed to decline this offer. I'm even a little nervous about it now.”
Jake squints his eyes open towards Jay, the sun blinding him more than his best friend’s smile usually would.
“It’s a little weird but I like trying new things. I’m not trying to disrespect you by accepting.”
Jay sighs in relief. 
“I know. If it’s gonna be anyone, I'd rather it be you.” He laughs with a sigh. “Still would rather her focus on me but I guess I kind of owe her this.” 
Jake adjusts himself back to his feet, tilting his head at Jay.
“Oh yeah?” 
“I mean, it’s not like she was into the whole being watched thing until I told her I wanted to try it.” Jay looks up into the sky, feeling the sun warm his face. “I liked it more than she did, but she came around, I never forced it or anything.” He breathes in the air and sinks lower into the water. “I think she did it to please me but she started getting really into it after a few times.” 
“She’s definitely something–” Jake starts, glancing at your figure flopping back on the sand and sinking your hand into a bag of chips. 
“Yeah, and I guess it’s my turn to let her try the things she’s curious about.” He laughs. “Even though it’s my fault and it involves my best friend. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that neither of you would do anything behind my back. ”
Damn. 
“Um, yeah.” Jake looks away for a moment. He knows he is famously awful at lying.
Jay looks at Jake knowingly. 
“Like, without me in the room at least,” He smiles, winking at Jake once before throwing a splash at him. “because I know what you guys did last night.”
Jake goes silent, wiping the salt water from his eyes and looking at Jay apologetically with burning pupils. 
“Relax, she told me while you were up there sulking. Said something about the danger of me finding out or something got her going, even though she knew that I caught on anyway.” Jay reassures, explaining away any explanation of Jake himself being the reason for it. “I get it.” He laughs this time.
“Should I like, have not watched?” Jake asks awkwardly, looking away from Jay and floating back a bit. 
“Nah, just give her what she wants. She’s gonna tell me regardless so let’s just try to have fun with this okay? If any of us are having issues, speak up.” Jay glares for a moment. “Because you know damn well I’ll put a stop to all of it if it goes too far.”
Jake nods, a small smile creeping up on his face. 
“What happens at the beach, stays at the beach.”
“God, I hope. I’m not moving you into our room at home.” Jay laughs, feeling a little better about it.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A very sexually active trip indeed. Jake could sense the tension in the air by the time all of you return to the beach house. Even through dinner, he sensed both you and Jay staring at him in very different ways. Even though talking made Jay feel better, he’s still possessive over you and you seem to like it a lot . So, he might be playing it up a bit for your sake. 
You are quite literally eye-fucking Jake, and Jay’s eyes are basically demanding him to keep his cock under lock and key. It’s weirdly erotic, and insanely confusing, but he knows Jay will speak up if shit goes too far, just like he said he would. 
By the time the three of you are piled up on the couch and putting in some shitty romance movie, it gets a little more comfortable. 
You’re leaned up against your boyfriend and Jake is leaned up against the arm of the couch at the other end. He doesn’t feel eyes on him anymore and it’s a relief. 
By the time it’s mid movie, he notes the soft snores coming from Jay. You, on the other hand, are feeling mischievous. Jay said to you specifically, away from Jake, no limits . Do what you want to him, ignore the rules, explore, have fun– but be ready to stop at the slightest mention of discomfort from either of them. You’re being given so much fucking power over both of these men. They both want you , and god does it feel fucking amazing to be wanted. 
When you shift towards Jake, gently so that Jay isn’t stirred from his slumber, Jake finds himself leaning towards you without question. Even when you slide yourself under his blanket and grab his hand, he doesn’t falter. 
His attention to the plot on the screen in front of him surely falters though. You’re doing the thing again. You’re excluding your boyfriend and Jake can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now because you’re quite literally slipping his hand into your panties without so much as a “please?”
Immediately Jake’s fingers explore against his better judgment. He’s seen your pussy stretched out on his best friend, he’s watched you orgasm, he’s heard you moan, but never has he gotten to touch you. 
“Mhm,” You encourage gently when Jake slides his fingers down your slit, collecting the slippery arousal and sliding his fingers back up to your clit. 
  You found yourself wondering how Jake would do it, especially the past day or so. Jay knew how to please you, but you can’t help but think that the act of someone learning how to please you is just as hot. Jake appears to know exactly how to use his fingers against a woman, the thought of him alone with someone other than you only heightens your pleasure at this moment. 
Jake does this for a while, silently and gently rubbing your clit as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen. You just watch him though, and the way he parts his lips in a silent moan when you press against his fingers with the smallest show of want . 
The secretiveness of it really gets you going. Seeing Jake turn to mush in your hands, doing anything you could ask him to do, right there while your boyfriend is sleeping next to you? God, what a fucking simp. You love it. You love the fact that his fingers are slightly softer compared to Jay’s, and the way he avoids sticking them in you even if you insist by lifting your hips slightly.
You lean towards Jake more this time, moving one leg over his lap and opening yourself up for more. 
“You should fuck me.” You whisper into his ear with a voice far too sweet for the words. “He won’t mind.” You add at his silence, feeling his fingers halt as he processes the words. 
“I can’t do that–” Jake whispers back, sliding his fingers down again and noting how much wetter you’ve gotten. 
“Want me to ask him?” You joke, grabbing his hand and holding his fingers right against your entrance. 
Jake shakes his head, feeling nervous as hell as his fingers rest in the one spot he definitely would love to fuck. 
“You’re no fun.” You sigh in disappointment, releasing his hand.
That makes Jake panic a little bit, the words of Jay mentioning that you will get bored with him eventually. It drives him to just—
“Brave boy,” You coo out at the feeling of Jake slipping his fingers inside of you through a panicked motion, sliding them in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds. You knew he would give you what you want.“Your fingers are long. Do you know how to use them, Jakey?”
Jake is fucking floored by the idea that his fingers are inside of you, you’re talking to him like this, and Jay is missing out on all of it.
Except he’s not. To Jake’s knowledge, Jay is in dream land. You, on the other hand? You’re very aware that Jay is terrible at pretending to sleep. Not only is he putting on this show for you, but he’s actually helping you. 
Kind of a shock, because you really did think he was asleep at one point. He blew his cover with a small smirk towards you, peeking an eye open at your shock of him resting a hand on your other leg and spreading it more in your attempt to get Jake to finger-fuck you. Jay wasn’t going to help out, but the moment he heard Jake reject you, he figured that his best friend can definitely be trusted in this situation. 
One of Jay’s favorite things about you is how dirty you can be, but never once has he seen you be more dominant over another person. Certainly not him. He finds it incredibly sexy in the way you both mock and talk down towards Jake even though he’s making you feel good. You don’t do that to Jay, you only moan for him. So yeah, maybe, going against his gut in this situation and allowing Jake to actually touch you is a bit hotter than he wants it to be. 
The best part? Jake doesn’t know your cues when you’re nearing orgasm, but Jay does and he uses that to his advantage. Spreading your leg out further so Jake can do whatever it is he’s doing with his fingers better. 
Jay softens at the fact that he would have already brought you to orgasm by now. Your soft mews sound more like you’re trying to fluster Jake rather than a reaction to pleasure, and it’s fun. It’s boosting his ego so high that he actually wonders how long it’ll take Jake to get you there. 
You feel just as boosted as Jay does right now. With his false sleep as he attempts to help you through this, Jake is half-focused on finger fucking you out of fear that he will be caught. It’s all well and good, but you want to cum. 
“Jake,” You whisper loudly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be pretending this is a secret. 
When Jake tries to pull his fingers out of you at the loud whisper, ultimately so he could pretend he was just watching the movie and absolutely not burying his fingers into his best friend’s girl, you hold his hand in place. Preventing his fingers from leaving you and you look at him. 
“Don’t stop.” You lean into him and whisper in a lower tone, rolling your hips forward against his fingers as you hold them there harshly. “You can make me cum this way, right? I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend Jay’s not here.”
Jake looks at you, darting his eyes to the sleeping Jay next to you, and then he slowly nods with a nervous swallow. 
He wants to fuck you so bad, but this is all he gets. Still, it’s more than he anticipated and he will be damned if he embarrasses himself by not getting you off like this. Gently, Jake keeps his eyes on Jay as he moves slightly over you, getting a better angle with his wrist so that he can quite literally, fuck you senseless with his fingers. 
With one hand on the couch over your shoulder, the other between your legs, you watch him as his eyes continuously dart between you and your boyfriend. Jake can’t watch the screen anymore considering he’s now faced away from it, he has to watch you. If this truly was a high-stakes session of pleasure, surely the two of you would be caught like this. 
Thankfully, Jake doesn’t notice the very aware hand of Jay gripping your leg open, which makes it more sexy. To see him put your pleasure over his friendship with your boyfriend so willingly, to position himself in such a way that is far more telling than it needs to be, yeah, he’s a fucking simp. 
“Oh, fuck–” You choke out, feeling Jake’s newly angled fingers plunge deeper into you. His knuckle bumps against your clit easily when he does this and it has your entire body jolting a bit. 
Jake swallows that praise, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in at a quicker pace. The sound of your pussy is not quite as loud as the movie on the screen, but all three of you can hear it. Even Jay has to hold back a small moan at how genuine you sounded just now. His grip on your leg becomes almost bruising as his own arousal stirs past a comfortable level. 
Jake’s eyes aren’t shifting anymore, you notice. As you stare up at him, he stares right back at you. Seemingly forgetting that he’s supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings right now. Instead, Jake is noting the way your body slightly shifts up when he harshly pushes his fingers in, to the point he could nearly imagine he’s fucking you.
 Except if he were, he would hope to have you moaning more, moving more, fucking yourself on him, using him. 
You can practically see Jake lose himself to lust. His eyes are dark, and his messy is hair falling against his lashes as if he were the one being fucked out right now. Internally, you feel such a large amount of endearment over him. 
You think back to when he fucked his fist in the car. He was showing an extreme amount of intent during that moment and it had your head fucking spinning watching him do it. You can imagine he must be hard right now. Jay must be hard too. If you wanted to, you could expose Jay for being awake and ask them both to fuck you right now, but you relent. Relishing in this power of having them both, one more unaware than the other. It’s too sweet to put an end to so quickly. 
As you look back up at Jake, you want to kiss him. Jay never said anything about that but you assume that could actually be crossing a line, so you don’t. Against your own wishes of wanting to keep this a secret, you lean yourself to Jay who still tries to pretend he’s asleep. 
Jake watches and panics, but can already feel you grabbing his hand and forcing him to keep pace. The fear that runs through his bones of being caught is fucking intense right now, especially when you lean your head into Jay’s neck and start sucking it.
You can feel Jake try to pry his hand back and you chuckle at it with an unstoppable smile against your boyfriend’s neck because, well, now Jay moves his hand to replace yours. Now he’s the one forcing Jake to keep pace.
Jake’s eyes widened at the realization, relaxing his hand against the unfamiliar grip on it.
“Wait–” He says in a raspy voice, looking between the two of you as Jay peeps an eyes open. “How long have you been awake?”
Jay drops the act with a motion of slamming Jake’s fingers into you one last time before removing his grip and now grabbing yours to place against his embarrassingly hard length. 
“The whole time.” Jay glares at him. “Too late to stop now, go on.” He encourages, wincing at the way you instantly grip him through his pants. “Do as she asked, make her cum.”
Jake feels embarrassed again. Despite technically not actually being “ caught” , he still feels ashamed of what he was doing, yet, his fingers are still in you. 
“Let me see if you can do it,” Jay continues, adjusting his body so that he can look down at what Jake is doing. “Move the blanket, baby.” He adds as he looks at you now. 
Shoving the blanket down, Jake notes how your hand is palming against Jay, and his fingers are inside of you. For some reason, Jay being hard makes him feel a little less ashamed but still embarrassed. How is he supposed to perform under pressure like this?
“Stop looking at us like that. If you’re not gonna continue, I'll finish her off myself – without you, ” Jay half-insults, half-encourages his best friend. 
Jake moves his fingers again at that, the realization of being given permission washing over him so quickly that it almost felt like an orgasm running through his body. He can do whatever he needs to do to make you come. He doesn’t have to hide it, it’s not a secret. 
Without a second thought, Jake pulls himself off the couch and stands to his feet to get between your legs. He looks between the two of you one last time and then down at your pajama shorts. For the first time without asking, Jake pulls them off of you in one swift motion before falling to his knees and examining how wet you look, pulsing around the loss of his fingers. 
“How does she look?” Jay asks with a quirk of his brow, bucking his hips up against your hand and tilting his head to kiss you on the temple. 
Jake says nothing but swallows in response, forcing himself to focus on you and pretend that Jay isn’t there studying the way he fucks his fingers back into you. 
When you let out a small whine at his silence, rolling your eyes the same time you roll your hips, Jay chuckles and reaches to pull his own pajama pants down. If you three are gonna be doing this, might as well have fun with it. 
Jake ignores it still, using his fingers to spread your lips and watch your hole continue to clench around nothing when he slips his fingers back out. Even without seeing your face at this moment, he can see how much you want this. Your glistening folds are practically begging to be fucked by one of them, if not both. He makes haste, watching as your pussy envelopes three of his fingers at once now, clenching them so tightly that he can feel them crowd together inside of you. 
You whimper at it, rolling your hips forward to sink his fingers further into you. 
“Can I lick her?” Jake asks, not moving his eyes from the way he can see your slick drip down his fingers. 
”Please?”
“Does she want you to?” Jay counters, also not moving his eyes from the way your fist circles the head of his cock before sliding back down and making him shiver.
You don’t even answer, and instead use your other hand to reach for Jake’s head, gripping his hair that’s in reach to you and dragging his face forward until you feel his breath on your clit. 
Jake takes that as an invitation, instantly flattening his tongue against your swollen bud and sliding down. You can feel his fingers spreading you open, reaching into you so deeply as you begin to feel his tongue trace around his fingers at your entrance. 
You moan, which makes Jay turn his face and lift your chin as if to shut you up from showing pleasure towards another man. You find that sexy, cute even, so you reward your boyfriend and reassure him with a harsher grip against his cock, milking him of his precum and chuckling into his mouth.
Jake doesn’t even care about what’s happening on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of you, tasting you, fingering you, and he genuinely thinks this might be heaven. He can feel his own length adjust in his pants, happy that the loose fabric accommodates the growth to full hardness. Jake already knows he’s not going to be getting off tonight by anything other than his own hand, and he does not give a shit about it. 
He licks against you as if you are the last woman on earth, honestly, and Jay can’t even bring himself to be in competition with Jake at this moment considering how much attention you’re giving to him and not Jake. This could work, surely, he’s never seen you so horny over a simple handjob before. 
  You roll your hips against Jake’s mouth repeatedly, chasing your high as he continuously tries to accommodate every spot of your pussy that needs stimulation. 
“He’s good at this–” You choke out, reaching to grab Jake’s head and hold him in place against your clit. You can feel his fingers pick up speed when you do that, and you can feel the vibrations of his groans against your clit even more.
“Oh yeah?” Jay laughs in a breath, darting his eyes to see Jake’s shoulder flexing as he fucks into you, his hair a mess between your fingers. “Better than me?” 
You shake your head, eyes sparkling up at Jay as he finally leans down to whisper to you.
“Are you close? You seem close–”
You nod this time, rolling your eyes back a bit when Jake intentionally licks circles around your clit and pumps his fingers painfully fast into you. 
“Don’t tell him,” Jay warns, fucking himself against your now loosened grip. “Do you want me to take over?”
You say nothing back but Jay can see your body tense. He makes haste, jumping up from his spot and practically shoving Jake out of the way to get between your legs. 
Jake doesn’t even know what’s happening, the loss of your warmth around his fingers and the taste of you gone all too quickly as he watches Jay bottom out into you in one go. His best friend’s fingers replace what his tongue was doing, and Jake watches the way you lay breathlessly against the couch. 
Now is his time, he guesses. Reaching one hand into his pants, he shows no shame in using his slick-coated fingers to furiously slide up and down his length at a pace he wishes he were fucking you at.
There, on his knees, Jake pushes and pulls himself to the edge in time with you. He watches your face and watches the way your hands grip against Jay as he fucks into you at a pace that looks painful. The sound of slaps in the room coming from all three of you, finally, you come undone. 
He watches the way you hold Jay’s hips in place, burying himself into you as you quiver around him, and only then does Jake let out a choked moan, coating the inside of his pants with strings of thick, milky cum. 
Just as quickly as you hit your climax, your eyes lazily fall to Jake as he sits out of breath, wet spots staining his pants as Jay continues to chase his own high. 
  The two of you look at each other for a long moment. You can’t help but feel that he looks entirely sexy when he’s spent and empty of his arousal. You don’t sense a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he looks back at you, breath uneven, not at all bothered by the fact that he’s not the one fucking you.
Except he is bothered by it. He felt like he came so close to making you cum, all for Jay to step in and take over. Still, that’s your boyfriend. Jake feels lucky enough to even be part of this. And by the time Jay finally gets himself off, all three of you just look at each other. 
“So,” Jay sighs, out of breath. “She tastes good, right?” He smiles, proud of himself for not letting Jake make you come.
You playfully slap him with a laugh, shuffling from the couch and standing to your feet. You examine the wet spot from where you were being fucked open by both of them and smile at it. 
“Let’s go shower, again.” You sigh, grabbing Jay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.
Jake is left sitting there, still on his knees, processing what just happened. 
He could get used to this.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By the third night, Jay is geared up and ready knowing full well that Jake has already touched you and he’s going to have to share tonight if your words are anything to go by. If you’re asking him to let Jake fuck you, it’s gonna have to be his way. 
Your eyes sparkled when Jay agreed in the silent morning as Jake slept like a fucking rock in the bed across the room. 
“Don’t worry,” You assured him. “I love you, I’m just having fun.”
“ I know.” Jay responded to you, silently and looking back at you. 
He didn’t worry so much about it after last night, anyway. He got more into it than he thought he would, and the competition of it all got both you and Jay off. Jake appears to be having fun too, and staying aware of the fake-ass boundaries the two of you set for him.
“Tonight?” You look to Jay and nod as you head off for the kitchen in an attempt to make something to eat for both of them.
“Tonight, if he’s willing.”  Jay confirms, ultimately stirring Jake from his sleep. 
“Good morning, you can sleep. She’s gonna make some food since we got her off or something.” Jay says towards Jake after you disappear from the doorway, lifting his arms and stretching his body out. 
“What were you guys talking about?” Jake asks half asleep as he hears your footsteps towards the kitchen fade away. The sleep in his voice is heavy and he clears his throat as he rubs his eyes. 
 “Nothing much. She wants to play a game later.” Jay tries not to ruin the plan. 
“Oh yeah, like what?” Jake sits up, reaching for his phone to check the time. 
“Probably monopoly or some shit.”
Jake notes that Jay appears to sound bored of the conversation, so he doesn’t push or pry any longer.
“We going to the beach today?” He asks now, somehow not feeling awkward at all about last night. It almost feels normal now. 
“Yeah, probably after we eat. Wanna go help her with me if you don’t plan to go back to sleep?”
Something inside of Jake swells up at the invitation from Jay to help you do mundane things. Boyfriendly things. As if the two of them are your boyfriends, and not just Jay.
 “Gonna brush my teeth first.”
Jay nods, giving Jake a tired smile as he heads off into the kitchen after you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake isn’t sure if he’s thinking too hard about it or if he’s getting his hopes up. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and very much willing to share you if the two of you offered to involve him in the relationship with more than just sex. Cooking in the kitchen with the two of you made him happy. Jay was clearly in boyfriend mode, guiding you by the waist when you were wisping from one end of the kitchen to the other. Jake was also kind of in boyfriend mode, though the two of you probably didn’t catch on. It’s not that he’s trying to intrude, it’s just that, he kind of has a hard time fucking a woman and not having feelings after the fact.
When Jake said you looked pretty, Jay didn’t falter even a tiny bit at the compliment. Instead, he smiled at Jake with a nod because of fucking course you look pretty. And when Jay gave you a light kiss to the lips as you stirred something in a bowl, Jake found himself wanting to do the same. He knows he can’t though, so he keeps to himself in this little unsure bubble of what the two of you feel towards him. 
The food was decent, save for the fact that none of you have stepped foot in a grocery store and are surviving off of what you brought in a cooler from home. Jake could tell some of the vegetables were wilted and needed to be cooked, thankfully, none of you enjoy letting food go to waste so that’s why you’re stuck eating it this morning. 
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially when Jake takes it upon himself to do the dishes despite always arguing at home about doing them. Jay finds himself in a strange kind of headspace too. Lightening up about the idea of Jake being around and touching you, but also, like, still being possessive because you're super into it. If Jake was anyone else, Jay doesn’t think this trio thing would work out as well. Still, this is a conversation for after the trip. 
  By the time the three of you are at the beach, you make a show of yourself for both of them and anyone else who happens to be looking your way. If tonight goes anything like you want it to, you need them to be absolutely feral for you by the time the sun sets. 
It works for the most part. Ghosting your hand over Jake’s cock under the water, blatantly grabbing Jay’s out in the open just to see him buckle under the arousal of it being in public. You feel on top of the universe as their eyes go from bright to dark and full of arousal as the day goes on.
When you part from both of them, heading back to the shore in order to find a bathroom somewhere, the two of them stay behind. You do your best in giving those two alone time too because surely they need to talk or something.
That, they do. 
“She’s doing all of this on purpose, you know.” Jay laughs, wading in the water beside Jake. “How are you feeling about it?”
Jake shrugs, avoiding the incoming wave and lifting his chin with a wince. “I’m feeling less weird about it now, I guess.”
  Jay nods, looking at him and studying his expression. 
“She wants to fuck you.”
Jake can’t help but smile. He has no words to respond to what Jay just said. 
“Shockingly, I kind of want to see her do it.” Jay splashes Jake as if he’s mad, but stands back as his best friend wipes his eyes. 
“Yeah?” Jake’s eyes are beaming despite the redness of the saltwater hitting them, and Jay just stares at him.
“I don’t know man, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. Sharing, and such, but like–” Jay tries to explain, searching internally for a reason as to why he should hold onto the annoyance of sharing his girlfriend. “I don’t know.”
Jake tilts his head, looking at him. 
“It’s kind of fun?”
Jake nods this time. He’s still getting the short end of the stick but he literally couldn't care less. 
“I like watching and I like when you let me touch her.” Jake admits, glancing away and breathing in through an embarrassed wince over what he just said.
For some reason, that sentence arouses Jay. “When you let me touch her.” Jake is really giving full power to Jay to control a sex life that isn’t his and it’s embarrassingly sexy to be given that power over another man. He’s not entirely interested in Jake sexually, but he is entirely interested in Jake’s sexual interest for his girlfriend. Interested in controlling it. 
“This is going a lot further than we ever intended it to.” Jay comments, sinking himself lower in the water and thinking intently on what’s going to happen after the three of you get home. “Guess we will see what happens.” 
Jake quirks an eyebrow. 
“If I asked you to fuck her, would you?” Jay continues, in his head, about why he feels like all of this is okay to him now.
Jake narrows his eyes, wondering if it’s a trap but ultimately nods. 
“I mean, yeah, if you both told me to.” 
There’s the control again. Jake blatantly gives it up just to get the smallest taste of what you share with Jay. 
“And you wouldn’t do it behind my back? Like, be real with me right now.”
Jake knows he would probably be too weak to say no to you. He thinks you know it too.
“What makes you think she would go behind your back anyway?” Jake counters, challenging Jay’s trust in you.
And then it all makes sense. You wouldn’t go behind his back for anything that’s not agreed upon. You’d tell him everything, you’d involve him, or you’d at least ask if you can fuck his best friend behind closed doors. 
It all feels like it’s falling into place too perfectly, and that’s the only uncomfortable thing about this. Jay looks at Jake and then shifts his eyes over to the shore, where you’ve come back from your adventure to the bathroom. 
“Nah, you’re right.” Jay assures himself, standing back up and waving over to you. “Just keep in mind that she’s my girlfriend and I’ll be the one to make her cum.”
Jake is well aware that you’re not his, Jay doesn’t have to rub it in.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Though Jay never explicitly stated that Jake would be able to fuck you tonight, it became increasingly obvious as the day went on. Even as you blatantly touched him in front of Jay, he would simply avert his eyes from Jake and carry on with whatever he was doing.  
By the time the three of you got back to the house, Jake had to fucking fight himself to not jerk off in the shower. Clearly you were wanting to have fun again tonight if the sheer amount of touching throughout the day is any indication. 
The showers from all of you went by far too quickly to ignore as well. Jake thinks he beat his record speed of being out and dressed in under six minutes. You and Jay, opting to shower together, made Jake think the two of you would go in there and fuck behind closed doors, but even that didn’t happen as the two of you were leaving the bathroom in under fifteen minutes. 
Now, the three of you are in this beach house away from a city that is far too familiar to you. The air feels electric but also slightly awkward. You don’t know how to start, Jay certainly doesn’t know how to start, and Jake simply needs the green light to make his attempt at whatever the fuck is supposed to happen. It’s a knowing kind of look that the three of you share as you head into the bedroom one by one. Jake doesn’t know if he should get onto his own bed, or yours at this point considering he hasn’t exactly been told what’s supposed to happen. 
He didn’t have to think too hard though, as he trails in behind Jay who guides you to your own shared bed with him. Jake stands there in silence, watching the way both of you pat your hands on the bed as if to invite him in. 
“Shit, this is really happening?” He asks, almost wanting to cover his ears and cringe at the way he breaks the silence. Jay nods to him silently.
“If you want it to?” You ask, scooting closer to Jay and feeling him move a hand to your thigh. 
Jake is careful when he makes his way to the bed, glancing at both you and his best friend as if the gig would be up soon and you’d both start laughing at him for believing that this is happening. Instead, though, you adjust yourself and your boyfriend on the bed as Jake makes his attempt to find a space to claim for himself.
Now lying on your back, head on Jay’s lap as you both watch Jake, he sits himself awkwardly on the side of the bed and stares forward. 
“Bro, why are you all shy? You literally ate her out last night.” Jay laughs, trying to blame the nervousness all on Jake despite not knowing how to get the ball rolling himself at this point. Then, he’s reaching forward and over you to spread your legs out. Your bathrobe does little to hide the lack of material underneath, already bare and ready for both of the men in the room. 
“I don’t know–” Jake argues, glancing over at you and instantly drawing his eyes to what’s beneath the robe. He tries to look away with a gulp of whatever the fuck he was going to say next, but ends up double taking at the view of you being presented to him by Jay. “I’ve never done this before…” He trails off, voice coming to a whisper as he shamelessly stares and the arousal begins to take full hold of his body. 
You shift your hips a bit, as if to grind yourself against nothing to show that just like him, you can be desperate too. 
“Fuck,” Jake sighs out, shifting his body fully onto the bed and facing you. “I–”
“Go on.” Jay encourages, noting the way his friend is practically drooling at the image of you in front of him like this. Proud of himself for having a girlfriend so fucking alluring.
“Should I just,” Jake stops, looking at Jay and avoiding eye contact with you. “touch her? like, what are my limits?’ 
Jay honestly doesn’t care what he does as long as you want it but, what he’s damn sure won’t happen is Jake getting head from you. He can eat you out all he wants but your mouth is to never be on him in any way, shape, or form without being told to do it by Jay himself. 
“Help him out.” You comment, flicking your head back a bit to look at Jay from under your lashes. He smirks at you and responds with a small nod. 
“Remember, you can just tell us to stop if you change your mind.” Jay directs towards Jake as he leans forward and pulls him closer to you by his arm. 
Jake falls a bit, on all fours right between your legs as he stares down at your folds. He says nothing in response to Jay, now lost in the world of getting to taste you again and wondering how many more times he will be granted permission to do this. 
“Stick your tongue out and use it, Jake.” Jay demands in a slightly…off tone? One that seemingly makes fun of Jake for not having touched you yet. 
Jake listens, granting Jay a nice little ego boost as he hums from behind you at your sharp inhale when Jake kisses against your clit. Still, this is going to happen his way and if Jake thinks he can eat pussy well, he’s about to learn.
Jay leans forward, your body leaning with him as he harshly grabs Jake’s hair, pressing his lips against you harder, guiding his head up and down. “Stick your tongue out more–” Jay demands again, gripping his hair harder.
Strangely enough, Jake allows it. He sticks his tongue out the moment Jay demands it, and allows himself to be guided by the hair against your pussy. He groans out against you, tasting you again despite it not being of his own free will. Would Jake prefer eating you out the way he wants to? Absolutely. Does the feeling of having his head guided between your legs also kind of get him off? Oh, fuck yeah. All he has to do is imagine it’s your hand doing it. 
You, however, watch as Jay pulls Jake up, still by the hair, and looks at him. 
“Tongue fuck her, I’ll take care of the rest.” He says, releasing Jake and watching the way he sinks down between your legs again. 
Making it easier for him, you prop your legs on his shoulders, ultimately boxing Jake in against your wet and glistening hole. It isn’t long before you feel his tongue circling, inserting against your walls. It’s not a lot to go off of, but god he looks so good between your legs like this. The image only gets better when Jay unties the loose knot of your robe and pinches against one of your nipples, his other hand going straight to your clit and rubbing it just the way you like. 
“Can you cum like this for him?” Jay asks against your ear, holding you against him with his hand still playing against your nipple. “Let him really taste you?” 
You nod to him with a moan, shifting your hips as if to fuck yourself on Jake’s tongue. Each pinch against your nipple sends a sensation straight to where you’re being stimulated the most, and yeah, you can definitely cum on Jake’s tongue if he keeps trying to reach as deeply as he is now. 
Jay’s fingers are expert when it comes to your body, he could have you falling apart right here, right now if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches, instead, the way you tighten your legs around Jake’s head to pull him in closer. The way his best friend doesn’t even come up for air is laughable, but he gets it. 
It’s the fact that for the first time, Jay kind of enjoys the idea of a man touching what’s his, solely because he can see how badly they want it. Knowing that he, himself, can do it whenever he wants and they can’t.
When your boyfriend rubs your clit faster, it has you chasing Jake’s tongue harder , and when you chase Jake’s tongue, he makes a point to lick every crevice you have to offer in order to entice moans and groans of his name from your mouth. 
When you start to tense up, Jay knows exactly what it means. He lurches forward again and pulls Jake away from you, reaching back just as quickly to rub your clit harder.
“Watch her cum,” Jay smiles, abusing your clit just the way you love it until your legs are shaking and falling from Jake’s shoulders. “Keep your tongue out.”
“Shit–” Jake sighs out, watching your cunt drip out its continuous orgasm. Without any indication from the two of you, he takes the risk and dips back down, tongue lapping up the mess of your arousal and humming against your folds in a beautiful and desperate mantra.
“Oh god–” You choke out, jolting from the sensitivity of his tongue toying with you, Jay continuing to press your orgasm further, not relenting even as sensitivity takes hold. 
Jake licks up every single bit of it and Jay watches him, feeling you continuously quiver in his grasp as you come down from the high. 
“Now, fuck her.” Jay smiles knowingly, looking down at you and the way you already look dazed.
Jake shoots his head up to look at Jay, instantly he’s nodding and practically throwing his pants off. A true desperate show of how much he wants to be inside of you. 
Both you and Jay examine Jake when he pulls his cock out. You’ve seen it before but never in its full glory. He’s big. 
Jay glances down at you with an ‘are you sure you wanna do this?’ look and all you can do is chuckle and wiggle your hips as if to entice Jake to fuck you so senseless that Jay appears to be jealous again. It wouldn’t take much, really, because Jay is jealous right now. He needs to make damn sure you know that his cock is the only one that can make you scream, regardless of length, or whatever. He’s still thicker than Jake is.
Jake watches the two of you share looks and instantly gets a bit shy, doesn’t change the fact that he’s gently jerking himself off in preparation though.
“Condom?” Jake asks, obviously.
“No,” You say, nudging him closer again with your leg. “Im on the pill and you live with us, I know for a fact that you haven’t been fucking around.”
More shy now, Jake averts his eyes as he shuffles his way closer, all the way until he can feel his cock pressed against your leg. In one last attempt before he goes off the deep end, he looks to Jay for approval and is granted it almost instantly with a nod. 
He slides in, painfully slow in your opinion, but to Jake it’s like he’s trying to feel each ridge, clench, and wall around him as he does it. You wince only a little at the size, taking a deep breath and grabbing Jay’s hand when he bottoms out. 
Jake attempts to let you adjust, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as he wants to because the second he pulls his hips back, he’s slamming into you with a force he didn’t even know he had. The sounds you let out as he does this has Jay going fucking insane, you can feel his cock against your back continuously twitching as Jake fucks into you. 
Only when you keep your eyes on his best friend does Jay move from under you, replacing himself with two pillows as he stands at your side. 
“Stop looking at him like that,” He demands, lowering his pants enough to let his cock spring free and in front of your face. “Look at me.” He continues, stroking himself as he stares down at you.
This is what you want. You want them to fight for your attention right now. Thankfully to Jay, Jake is in his own world, head thrown back as he continuously plunges into you with the obvious need of a man who hasn’t had sex in months. 
You stare up at Jay then allow your eyes to fall to his pulsing and raging length in his hand, without hesitation you open your mouth for him.
“Good girl,” He praises, setting his cock on your tongue and allowing you to feel the weight of it before he slowly slides further into your mouth. “How does it feel to be fucked from both ends?” Jay asks with a bit of a demeaning tone. “Is it everything you ever wanted?” He asks again, this time sliding further down your throat before taking hold of your head and holding it in place. 
You have no reason to answer his questions, because he already knows the answer judging from the sound of how wet you are. He can fucking hear it. 
“I bet it is.” He continues through a sigh, effectively fucking your mouth open much like his best friend is doing to your pussy. 
One thing Jake doesn’t seem to catch onto is the fact that both you and Jay are talkers during sex. Jake, not so much, so when your mouth is gagged by a cock, he has no choice but to listen to Jay talk to you. 
Jake’s hips stutter only slightly when you gag around your boyfriend, all because that gag appears to travel down your body. Your cuntclenches him so tightly that he could honestly start crying right now if it wouldn't end with him being made fun of. 
So fucking tight, practically choking him out by the cock. 
“Do that again–” Jake pleads, gripping your legs and spreading them away from his hips. He angles himself a bit more by placing both hands under your ass and pressing into you again, this time stilling his hips so he can feel your walls jerk him off. 
Jay smirks, not knowing what the fuck Jake is referring to. 
“Do what again? Gag her?” He asks, jolting his hips forward and again sliding down your throat.
 You gag, and your pussy constricts.
“Goddamn, yes, that.” Jake chokes out in a sigh, trying to press his cock into you even deeper. 
Jay looks down at you and the way your eyes start to glisten with tears. He knows they’re good tears, especially with the way you try to smile around his cock. 
“So dirty,” He compliments, sliding out of your mouth and wiping a tear from your cheek. “This okay?” He continues, knowing you like it, but he still needs to get that confirmation considering this is new to all three of you. 
You nod with a moan and a deep breath, grabbing his drenched length and sinking it straight back down your throat. Jay seethes a string of curses when you do that. You’re too fucking good at deep-throating and it’s driving him up a fucking wall how hot you are right now. 
Being fucked open is one thing, but being fucked open from both ends is another. Even with Jake practically cockwarming himself in you, you can feel how rock hard he is with each twitch and aroused pulse, his length consistently putting pressure against your g-spot. God, you feel so full.
Jay elicits gags from you again, pulls out so you can breathe, and then goes right back to fucking your mouth at his own pace. Jake, on the other end, has since lost all form of self control with your last gag. You’re dripping around him, clenching him so fucking tightly, he can’t help it when he grips your ass firmly and essentially gags you himself with how hard he begins to piston his hips. Even Jay is thrown off by the way you stop sucking and your mouth goes slack.
He slides out of your mouth, listening as a drawn out moan of Jake’s name comes from your lips. 
“Look at her–” Jay glares, forcing Jake to slow his hips and look at you. “Look at how good you’re making her feel.” He adds again, only slightly more aroused than he is threatened by your expression. 
Jake is looking, watching as your eyes fall to him and you buck your hips up as if to ride yourself on him. 
“God, please Jay, can she ride me?” Jake loses composure, slipping his hands out from under your ass and grabbing your waist. 
Jay doesn’t even get to answer the firm “no” he was intending because he can see you look at him with pleading eyes just like his best friend. It sucks to have all of this power but still not be able to say no to those pretty fucking, tear stained eyes when you look at him like this. What’s worse?
The way Jake is looking at him is arguably…just as fucking hot.
And so, Jay bows his head in approval and wonders when the fuck he became the third wheel in his own relationship, that is, until you sit yourself up, push Jake back, and settle yourself on his thighs. 
You don’t move as you look at your boyfriend, your pleading eyes now turning to concern as he stands by himself off of the bed. For some reason, it comforts him. 
Jay smiles at you softly, kind of like a small confirmation that he’s doing just fine, and then moves forward to further that confirmation for you.
“She takes it so well, right?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, getting behind you on the bed and settling down with his cock in hand. “Go on, ride him, baby.”
So you do, rolling your hips forward and backwards in a way that has Jake slipping in and out of you with ease. He can feel you drip onto his legs and honestly, he’s in fucking heaven right now as he places both hands on your thighs and stares directly at his cock disappearing inside of you. 
It’s a shame really, considering being ridden is one of Jake’s weaknesses. 
“Can I cum in her?” Jake blurts mindlessly, his hips attempting to fuck into you despite your weight on him keeping his hips down. “Jay, please? Can I cum in her?” 
His questions come out frantic, pleading for the ability to release his control and absolutely let you fuck him into oblivion, but he waits, now halting your hits from moving as if to contain the load he’s about to release without permission. 
“What if I say no?” Jay laughs, gripping his cock and watching the way Jake twitches inside of you. 
You move your hips again, a small chuckle lightly coming out alongside Jay as Jake hits rock bottom and somehow spirals further down. 
“Shit, shit!” Jake groans, urging you to lift up a bit as he painfully begins to slam into you.
Jay can hear his cum seeping out of you with each plunge of his cock, he can see it spurt out of you and down Jake’s legs. God damn it’s way hotter than he anticipated it being. 
Without a second thought Jay is pulling himself up and positioning himself behind you. He doesn’t say a word as he presses the small of your back forward so that your tits press against Jake’s face, and prods his cock at your entrance. Right there beside Jake, he slides in with an uncomfortable stretch. 
“This is how you fuck my girlfriend.” Jay groans, feeling your pussy hug around his cock and his best friend’s. He can already feel Jake going soft from the recent orgasm, but he doesn’t relent. Jay starts moving his hips regardless, fucking Jake’s released load back into you with an impossible stretch.
Honestly, Jay is on cloud 9 listening to both of you whine and moan. Neither of you stopping him, and even Jake finds the sensitivity of his cock being fucked against as insanely pleasurable as it is painful. 
You’re staring down at Jake when you slightly lift, and he’s looking up at you as Jay continuously stimulates you both. At this moment, you’re both in this together and Jay has full control. Deserving control, you think. Smiling at Jake, you drop your head to his neck and start talking. 
“You felt so good,” You praise him, moaning at the way Jay slams into you. “Can you get hard again?”
Jake simply nods because he cannot, for the life of him, think of words right now. He’s already feeling his arousal coming back to him. Even Jay feels it, in the way his softening cock manages to get hard again within mere minutes. He’s never been able to get hard again that quickly, but then again, Jake was practically pussy starved so he doesn’t question it. 
The fit inside of you grows tighter and tighter as Jake’s cock wakes up to the overstimulation, all the way until all three of you are wincing at the drag of Jay continuously fucking into you. The sound of moans, slick, and heavy breathing is all that can be heard when Jake moves his hips at an opposite rhythm of Jay. 
“Oh, fuck yes–” Jay moans, throwing his head back and looking down at how stretched open you are with two cocks stuffed inside of you. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good–” He babbles on, praising you, or Jake, he doesn’t even know at this point. 
Overstimulated, his cock feels as though your cunt has a death grip on it as he continues to squeeze along size Jake’s length, your wet and sore walls clenching them so tightly that Jay barely has to move at all to feel like he’s fucking the daylights out of you. 
Jake’s small thrusts only push the orgasm to the edge for both you and Jay. The head of Jake’s cock drags alongside Jay’s with each thrust and it has him nearly gasping for air when his orgasm hits him.
Jake hasn’t stopped moaning since Jay fit himself into you, nor have you. Who has control in this situation? Not a single person, not even Jay, as he frantically bottoms himself out and shoots his cum against the impossibly tight space inside of you. Jay’s orgasm ignites yours, your g-spot having been stimulated this entire time, you nearly squeeze so hard that they both are forced out of you, but they fight the sensation, continuing to bury themselves into you through your high.
Pained gasps drag on and all you can feel are fingertips both clawing and squeezing at you when you release around them, squeezing both of them tighter, and tighter, until Jay has no choice but to slip his spent cock out of you. 
You slump over instantly, your walls fitting themself back around Jake’s still hard length inside of you.
Jake struggles to orgasm again, unsure of if he has any cum left after the first one, so he pulls out of you the moment Jay shoots a look at him, as if to tell him to stop. Still in his aroused state of mind though, Jake practically shoves you back onto Jay as he works himself up to whatever orgasm he has left by his own hand. 
It takes a moment, but you feel his second load hitting against your thighs not long after and all that’s left to do now is assess the damage.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
There was no damage. Even as Jay apologetically begs you to tell him the truth. To tell him he went too far, or was too rough. You liked it, and you hate that you have to convince him of it. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Jay asks, kissing you once on the back of your neck after you nod with a dazed smile. “And you?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, who is sprawled out regaining his breath at the foot of your bed.
“I’m great, actually.” He says, looking over to Jay with a dopey kind of smile. 
“You’re both insane.” Jay finally releases a breath of relief, realizing how much you and his best friend have in common sexually.
It’s…weirdly endearing, making his heart swell at the way both you and Jake look at him expectantly. Like still, he has control over all three of you. 
“You didn’t like it?” You ask, and Jake nods along with your question to look at Jay.
“Of course I fucking liked it.” 
“Then what’s the issue?” Jake asks, sitting himself up now and pretending he doesn’t get a headrush almost instantly. 
Jay thinks hard about it. Is there even an issue? Did he ever expect to actually share his girlfriend with Jake this way? Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that all three of you enjoyed every bit of that. Plus, Jake doesn’t appear to be super competitive and listens to everything Jay says to do. 
Who wouldn’t be turned on by that kind of control anyway?
 ・・・・・・ EPILOGUE  ・・・・・・
Jake has become a constant fixture in your sexual relationship with Jay now, but he doesn’t step out of line much to Jay’s pleasure. Even now, months down the road from the beach vacation, all three of you came to terms with the fact that Jake wants to stay, and so do the two of you. 
Rent is split three ways, you’re split two ways, but you get it all. Truly, you feel like you have the best end of this bargain. Even now, Jay tends to have more private sex with you as if to avoid constantly living in the world of kinks and pushing boundaries. You enjoy it. You love sharing moments with him without Jake around, and even when Jake does walk in on it, he doesn’t stay most of the time because now, when it’s meant to be for all three of you, Jake is blatantly invited. He knows now that any sex he isn’t aware of isn’t for him, despite it being the complete opposite from before. 
It’s a comfortable kind of thing. Even if the three of you don’t talk about it outside of these walls, it’s what you like, it’s what they like. Even Jay has loosened up a bit more about you and Jake together. It’s not like you’re dating him, but your boyfriend has actually implied you go busy yourself with Jake when he’s exhausted or too tired to fuck you himself. If anything, when you do go and busy yourself with Jake, Jay usually ends up watching anyway. 
“Jake,” Jay says from across the room after yet another session of cuckolding his girlfriend and best friend. “I hope you know that she’s still my girlfriend and I will always be the one to fuck her better.”
“You’re really gonna say that after I just made her cum twice before you even got your cock out?” Jake laughs. 
“She’s my girlfriend.” Jay glares but Jake can see his smile.
“I know. You keep her happy.” Jake drops the playful act and decides to genuinely let Jay know. 
“Unfortunately, your cock is required for her happiness sometimes.”
“No, his cock is required for fun. You are required for my happiness.” You interject, reminding them that you’re literally still in the room, heaving from your third orgasm.
“And that’s why this little arrangement works out.” Jay agrees, lifting himself to kiss you. “Only I get your love and affection. Jake just gets 30% of your orgasms.”
“10% of yours too, apparently.” Jake shifts his eyes to Jay.
Jay does remember the few times he’s let Jake fuck you and grew so aroused by how you act with his best friend in contrast to himself, that yeah, he guesses he can give Jake and his huge cock some credit for making him cum a few times, but really, it’s because he’s seeing his girlfriend stretched out and cock stupid, definitely because they both whine in unison over him. 
At the end of the day, it’s cute, especially because Jake can still never fuck you as good as he will. You may be cock-stupid for his size, but you’re cock-drunk for how Jay works it inside of you.
And so, it appears that Jay is in a happy relationship with you, a healthy one. One where he’s perfectly comfortable cleaning his best friend’s cum out of you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 month
Text
Finally getting help (prt 9)
Masterpost
“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall. 
“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.
“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind. 
“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.” 
Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.
“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.
“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.
He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.
Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny. 
Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.
This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony. 
He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.
They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.
Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.
“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.
Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him. 
Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?
Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”
When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.
-----
Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.
“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.
“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.
“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”
“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”
“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back. 
He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.
“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said. 
“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy. 
“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little. 
“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm. 
He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.
Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”
“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.
“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.
Next
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navybrat817 · 4 months
Text
Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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blue-jisungs · 3 months
Text
making up with them after a fight ♡
author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?
warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything
this is a continuation to fighting with them!!
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.
suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?
jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.
however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.
“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.
“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.
“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”
“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.
“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”
“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”
“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.
“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.
and minho hated this.
he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.
so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?
"y/nnie… i’m sorry"
you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.
"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”
he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.
"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"
"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.
"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.
"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.
silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.
"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.
"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.
"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"
"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer.
you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.
he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.
"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.
"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.
"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.
then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.
"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"
"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.
"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.
"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.
"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.
"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"
jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.
"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"
jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.
"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"
"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.
"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.
"you were what?"
jisung rolled his eyes playfully.
"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.
"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.
"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.
"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.
"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"
finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.
"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"
you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.
"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.
felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.
"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.
he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.
"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"
"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.
"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"
"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.
"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"
that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.
"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.
"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.
in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.
"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.
"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.
"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.
"okay…" you hummed.
hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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ddejavvu · 10 months
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this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.
the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.
the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.
He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.
He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.
He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.
It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.
His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.
"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.
Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.
His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.
"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.
"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.
"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.
"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.
"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.
"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.
"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."
"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."
"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.
He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.
From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.
Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.
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lecsainz · 4 months
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Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.
I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.
HOLDING YOUR HAND
parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader
summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.
an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )
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You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.
It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.
Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.
After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.
Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.
You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.
Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.
She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.
"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."
It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.
During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.
"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.
Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.
She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.
When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.
Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.
"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.
While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.
"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.
She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .
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