#will do when it really goes all the way out on my engine but I do NOT have the money to rebuild her
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Gimmie.
12. ‘you could say I’m fond of you.’
:)
Soft ficlet for the "Love is a Burning Thing" series
Buck has been a brat all day.
Part of it is that they've both gotten so used to having their days off together, but Buck switched with Johnson and B shift. Johnson always goes to Buck when he's got a kid-related scheduling conflict. Eddie would like to give Johnson a piece of his mind about that, but Buck is always so eager to help. With Eddie at work and Christopher at school, Buck gets bored. And he gets a little sad because all the people he wants to hang out with are working.
He also asked just enough questions about Jee's preschool agenda that Maddie had threatened to pull him off the approved pick-up list if he played hooky with her daughter.
And this combination of being off, alone, and with nothing to do meant that much of his energy is going into being a brat to Eddie.
He, thankfully, hasn't decided to torture Eddie with lewd pictures, but he's gotten very bratty over text and in the two phone calls they've had.
Three, it seems. Eddie picks up the phone. "Sweetheart, we are enroute to a call right now," he says.
"Oh," Buck says. He sighs loudly. "Okay, well, you love me, right?"
"I just married you for the tax benefits, Buck," Eddie replies.
"Eddie," Buck whines.
Eddie laughs. "You could say I'm fond of you."
Buck huffs. "You're the worst."
"Ay mi vida." Eddie shakes his head, looking out the window. "I do love you."
"Good," Buck says. "I love you too. Be safe."
"Will," Eddie promises, and the call ends.
The call is for a collision on the highway. No one is seriously injured, and it's all pretty routine as far as car accidents go. Eddie thinks about Buck, about the call, about Buck making sure he loved him.
"Shit," he says under his breath as he makes his way back to the engine. Buck is spiraling.
When they pull back into the firehouse, Eddie strips out of his gear, helps reset the engine, and then goes right for the bunkroom to call Buck.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetheart," Eddie says softly, sitting on the bed. "You were calling earlier to tell me that you're having a rough time, weren't you?"
"You're busy," Buck replies, voice quiet. "I'm okay."
"Buck, can you tell me what's wrong?" Eddie asks.
Buck sniffs a little on the other end of the line. "I don't know. I... got worried that I was too much of a brat."
Eddie wants to hold him so much. He wishes more than anything that he could take away Buck's feelings of being too much. "I would tell you if you crossed a line, sweetheart. And even if you did, I would still love you."
"Even if you had to punish me?" Buck asks.
"Even if. I promise," Eddie says. He glances at his watch. He's not going to be home anytime soon. "I love you, Buck. So much. I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."
Buck sighs. "I love you too. I'm sorry for all this."
Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair. He hates that he can't be there with Buck. "Don't apologize. I know what it's like to spiral like that. Can you rest for me? Set an alarm for when you have to go get Christopher, but until then, I just want you to lay down. You don't have to sleep."
"Yeah, I can do that," Buck says.
"Good boy. Call me tonight?" Eddie asks.
"Yes, sir. Love you."
"Love you, sweetheart." The call disconnects, and Eddie lets out a soft sigh.
He's really going to have to have a heart-to-heart with Johnson about finding someone else to switch shifts with.
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It was a close call after a bad morning but guess what I did yesterday
#the engineer who fixed the train and everyone who cleared the tracks yesterday need a raise right now#up until half 2 i was watching train after train get cancelled#also unable to get to the other suggested station because of a flooded road#also had to deal with the rheumatology department finally getting back to me to ask if i want to stay on the waiting list#(you have to do so many things just to login and tick a box that say yes i need an appointment still)#but the half 2 train ran! and we made it to london! and people offered me seats so i got to sit on the tube both ways#(i know i had my walking stick but usually people just give me judgemental looks i've never been offered seats before)#and we got there and they were so good the entire stadium screamed when they started sugar we're going down#and heaven iowa live is so incredibly good man i thought can it get any better?#and i don't really have a full ranking of songs but i do have a favourite and a second favourite#and then it's everything on a sliding scale depending on my mood#but i do have a second favourite it's bang the doldrums#so they start playing bang the doldrums and i'm on the edge of my seat screaming along#thinking the only way this can get any better is if they play my very favourite fall out boy song the (shipped) gold standard#but that's just a brief thought of wishful thinking that's not going to happen#so anyway it goes on everything is so good they play so much for stardust i think is this the last song it's so so good#and then then guess fucking what#guess what#'let's do a song we've never done live before' says pete and i don't really keep up with all that just albums so it could be anything#and then the first bars of the (shipped) gold standard and i almost fall out the chair holy shit#so i guess someone saw the morning i had and thought of a way to make it up to me#had to dip a couple of songs early to catch the train and ended the day in so much pain and so tired but that was so incredibly good#they played bang the doldrums and the (shipped) gold standard i'm so happy#*
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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook
summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]
[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]
➣19.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana
“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”
The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.
The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.
“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”
“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.
“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”
“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”
“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”
“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.
Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”
“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.
“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”
This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”
His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”
Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”
The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?
“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”
“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.
“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”
They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”
“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”
When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.
It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.
‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’
The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.
Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.
You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.
“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.
“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.
“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.
“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”
“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.
“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.
“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.
“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”
He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”
“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“
“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.
“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”
His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”
With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.
Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.
First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.
The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.
Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.
Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.
Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.
Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.
Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.
They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.
It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.
There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.
You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.
Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.
One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.
No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.
Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?
Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?
It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.
He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.
There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.
“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.
“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”
“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.
As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.
A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”
He didn’t have a thing for you.
Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.
There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…
Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.
You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.
“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.
“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”
“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”
“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”
“Am I saying anything?” You asked.
They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”
You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”
You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.
Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.
Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.
You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.
For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.
After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.
“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”
With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.
“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”
He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”
“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.
“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”
“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”
“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”
“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.
“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.
“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”
Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.
Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?
He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.
Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.
“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.
In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.
First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.
Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.
Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.
“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.
“What?”
“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”
“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.
“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”
“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”
“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.
“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”
“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”
“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.
“Y/n.”
You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”
“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.
“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?
“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”
“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”
A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”
An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.
“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.
“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.
“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”
“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.
“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”
His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”
“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.
“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.
“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”
Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.
With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.
When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.
The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.
“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.
“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”
“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.
“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”
“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”
“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.
“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”
“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.
“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”
“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”
Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.
“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.
You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.
He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”
“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.
Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…
The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.
He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.
You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.
Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.
So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.
Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”
All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.
Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”
That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.
He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.
“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.
You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.
“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”
A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”
Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”
“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”
“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.
You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”
He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.
You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”
“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.
You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”
“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”
“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”
Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.
He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.
With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.
“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”
“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”
“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”
You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”
A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”
“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”
A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.
When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?
“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”
To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.
You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.
Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.
Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.
“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”
Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.
He should go.
He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.
If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.
“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”
“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”
“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”
You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”
An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.
Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.
“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.
“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.
It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.
Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.
Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.
“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.
“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”
You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “
Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.
“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”
“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.
Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.
“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.
“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.
His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”
“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.
He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”
He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.
Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.
“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”
“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”
“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”
You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.
“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.
With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”
“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.
A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.
“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”
“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”
“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”
He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.
“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”
“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”
“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.
Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”
“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.
“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.
“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”
“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.
Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”
“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”
Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.
And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.
“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”
“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“
“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”
“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.
His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”
The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.
Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.
“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.
“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.
“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.
You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”
“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”
When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.
There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.
He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.
The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.
That’s what he thinks is the problem.
His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.
The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.
As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.
He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.
“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”
Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.
“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.
“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”
His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.
He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.
“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”
JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”
“I slept with her—“
A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”
Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”
“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”
“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”
“I have not.”
“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”
“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”
“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”
Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.
“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”
“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.
You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.
“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”
“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.
He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…
This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.
“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.
At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’
When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”
Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.
“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.
“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.
“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”
As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”
A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”
He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”
“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?
“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates
Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.
The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.
“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”
“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.
Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.
“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”
“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.
“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”
Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”
It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”
“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.
Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”
The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”
“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”
“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.
It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.
In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.
Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.
It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.
In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.
You resented each other.
You had sex.
Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?
When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.
“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”
Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”
Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”
“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.
The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.
Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.
“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.
“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”
Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?
“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”
“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”
“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”
You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”
Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”
Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.
To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.
“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.
“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.
Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.
He did not like you.
Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.
He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.
“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.
When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.
An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”
Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.
It’s not for you.
It’s not for yo—
His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”
You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”
A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”
It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.
You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.
Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.
You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.
“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make
“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.
You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.
Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.
His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.
He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.
The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.
Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.
He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.
“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.
“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”
“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”
“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.
Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.
“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”
Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”
He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.
Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”
Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”
Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.
“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.
“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”
“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“
Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”
“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”
“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”
You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”
Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”
“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”
“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”
“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”
“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”
“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”
“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.
“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.
“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.
“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”
“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”
“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”
Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”
His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.
“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”
“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”
“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”
Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”
“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”
“I know.”
Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.
He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.
He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.
He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.
Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.
“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.
“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.
“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.
“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”
Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”
“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.
“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.
“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”
Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.
“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”
“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”
“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”
“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”
By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.
You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.
And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.
“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.
Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”
There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.
“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”
She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”
You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.
“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”
“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”
“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”
“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.
“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”
Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”
He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”
You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”
::.
a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere
thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jungkook#jungkook one shot#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fiction#jungkook drabble#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jeon jungguk#jeongguk#bts writing#bts imagines#bts one shot#bts fic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts#bts jk#million dollar darling
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Amity Park is pretty isolated, so when Danny got a job offer at Lexcorp he didn't think much of it beyond "nice paycheck!"
He's fresh from having graduated his online college with a double Bachelors in Mechanical Engineering and Biotechnology, finally put that knowledge to use to shut down the artificial portal to the Ghost Zone for good, finally permanently solved Ellie (Dani) destabalization issue.
Now?
It's time to leave Amity!
He shoots out his resumes, but uh...turns out online colleges don't carry as much Oomf as he would like.
But he does get immediately hired by Lexcorp.
So it takes it.
His boss is weird and keeps wanting him to build doomsday machines and such, and keeps waxing poetic about how it's just a fallback plan for when Superman goes rogue, really Fenton don't overreact-
Except Danny isn't an idiot.
He was raised by not one, but two mad scientists that tore open a hole between reality and the Place Inbetween all reality, just to prove it was real.
But that paycheck?
He decides to compromise.
He'll build Lex's shit, but all of those devices primarily answer to Danny now.
Sure the code, upon being read, states that Lex is the only authorized user, but that shits easy to fake when Danny has access to literal Ghost Tech.
Lex goes a little too far with a massive fuckall robot?
Danny stomps his way out of the lab and gives it the shutdown code, and glares at Lex through the windshield of said robot while making the famous 'Come down here Right Fucking Now' hand motion that pissed off parents make.
Lex starts a cloning project with CADMUS and keeps Danny away from it?
"Tough shit Lex who do you think built your super security system? Yeah, my fucking Husband. Move over and-is that a wholeass teenager?
Lex.
Lex, I'm dismantling the last four projects I built for you.
I don't care if you fire me, I'm dismantling them.
Get that kid out of the tube and give him some pizza, he's going to have at least some semblance of a childhood. You can be a deadbeat all you want, my Wife and my Husband and I will take over from here.
No kids for you."
Danny is the unofficial senior engineer for any project Lex has and is using force to cement his place as Lex's external conscience.
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Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#drabble#musician Steve Harrington#musician eddie munson#we love alternate meetings in this house#we’re gonna say it’s a modern au to make things simpler#just go with it
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heavy and sticky
<seonghwa x fem! Reader>
Being sensitive is one thing, being easily turned on is one thing, being perverted is one thing. But being completely enamoured with you with all three combined? It’s just hell for Seonghwa.
Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, Seonghwa is perverted and desperate, cumming/orgasms with and without physical contact, overstimulation, masturbation, pussy eating, praise kink, cream pie, I hope this is filthy enough
A/n: I’m doing this for Seonghwa. Happy Valentine’s Day my darlings 💖
Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito
Seonghwa has a problem.
Technically three, but it stemmed from one. So he likes to think of it as just one, which just so happens to be you.
He doesn’t know when it even started, but he thinks he remembers how at least. He knows this ridiculous crush on you fully bloomed when he saw you in a sundress that hiked up a little too high when your friend group went on a holiday, and he thinks how ridiculous it is when he lets himself grow closer and closer to you.
And now all he thinks about is how your skin would feel against his and it’d get him hard way too fucking easily. It doesn’t help that you adore being around him—it doesn’t help with his case at all. You stick to him like glue.
You don’t know that he’s so sensitive whenever you lean your head on his shoulder, whether intentional or not, because the moment the smell of your shampoo hits his senses, he blanks him out, only filled with you, and then he has growing problem beneath his underwear. From then on, any thought he has of you just spirals into a frenzy for Seonghwa.
At this point a crush is an understatement. He’s probably head over fucking heels for you.
What really is the cherry on the fucking icing is when he wakes from a wet dream of this fuck ass vivid dream of you and your poor pussy being completely ruined by his cock, your moans so fucking real he swears that you were really there letting him fuck you stupid, cum warm and thick in his pants when he stirs from his slumber, moans in between pants when more white spurts out of his wet and pathetic cockhead. He’s so fucked. It would have been fine if he didn’t have plans. But the fact that he’s meeting you for coffee in a few hours just makes the whole situation all the more ridiculous.
Now he’s seated across you, listening to your voice as if he didn’t cum all over himself just hours before the both of you meet. But thank the gods the remnants of a dream don’t last for long. Seonghwa likes to believe that he’s holding up well, and he is, taking sips of his iced drink, listening intently. He thinks you’re so pretty when you blink and break away your eye contact before your gaze flutters back to him, bright and cheerful as you run your mouth. Seonghwa wonders to himself how should he keep you smiling and glowing like that for him.
And then suddenly the thought of you under him, completely undone and messed up—eyes rolled back every time he fits his cock right inside you—has him blinking and sitting upright. Fuck. He adjusts his pants, obviously it doesn’t help, not when any point of friction is a contender to making him just cum right there and then. It takes Seonghwa almost all of his willpower to hold himself back and not palm his erection.
Seonghwa tries his best to slip back into the conversation the both of you were having, but he can barely pay attention, his gaze is flickering from your face to your body, to your lips and there he goes, his jaw clenched and his body begins to heat up. He doesn’t know how he’s able to pull through the coffee date with you, but the moment he slams the car door and starts the engine, he already knows who’s etched in his mind while he lets himself cum when he reaches home.
It’s a vicious cycle—the more he meets you, the more he craves for you, and then he asks you out to meet you even more. Seonghwa can’t help it—you’re like dopamine to him.
His wet dreams merge into his fantasies—after meeting you, he would reach home, pent up and so fucking horny that he can’t think—only filled with filthy thoughts of you. The one that fucks him over the most so far? Definitely the one where he almost loses composure when he watches you stretch when you were working out with him at the gym. He imagines himself tearing a hole in the tights you wear that hugs your ass so perfectly, no panties, just your bare, wet cunt exposed to the cool air before he slides himself in, listening to you choke on your moans while you cry about him stretching you open, and dirtying the mats below the both of you, while he’s completely lost in the warmth of your pussy. Needless to say, the combination of a pumping heart rate and the rush of endorphins results in a thick, veiny erection in his shorts, which he could barely hide if it wasn’t for the fact that he wears shorts on the looser end. By the time he reached the bathroom of his apartment, cum would leak past the opening of his shorts and he’d be panting, overstimulating himself until he softens.
The extent of the catastrophe? Which was single handedly the worst and best thing that ever happened. It had gone to the extent that the sound of your voice would drive him over the edge. Seonghwa’s mind is hazy with his legs open, fucking his hand. Until his phone screen suddenly lights up.
With your caller ID flashing across the screen.
Seonghwa knows he shouldn’t fucking do this.
But he can’t stop. The thought of hearing your voice just over the phone while he fucks his hand overrides any ounce of rationale he has, especially when he’s completely clouded in pleasure.
So he slides to answer.
“Hello? Hwa?”
Fuck. The way your voice just right at his ears. Seonghwa shivers slightly at thought of you seated before him, watching him with his shirt ridden up all the way past his perky tits while he bucks his hips into his hand.
“H-hey. What’s up, y/n?”
He’a edging himself, his strokes going slower, trying to compose himself, so he doesn’t give himself away, sweat beading down his temple and down his abs, his thighs twitching at every stroke he gives himself when your voice floods his ear.
“Seonghwa!” Your voice echoes through the loudspeaker, and Seonghwa bites back a groan at the way you’re calling his name, precum oozes out of the silt of his cockhead.
“Are you busy right now?” You ask.
He definitely is. “No I’m-hngh-not.” Fuck. He’s going breathless.
“You sure? You sound funny Seonghwa” you respond, wondering why his voice is suddenly an octave lower.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Fuck”, he heaves, failing at controlling his ragged breathing. It just feels so good hearing you call his name while he keeps leaking. He wonders how long he can keep himself sane while talking to you.
But you already caught wind of it—the breathlessness, the soft whines that escapes in between the words he says, the way his voice goes deeper. You’re not dumb. He just sucks at trying to hide it all.
And you’re also craving for him just as much as he is for you.
“Do you wanna open the door so I can help you out with that?”
Seonghwa’s phone clatters onto the floor, his eyes widen in shock. Shit. You found out.
And you’re outside his apartment. He wonders how he should approach this—ignoring you completely, blowing you off, making an excuse or just let you in? But the thought of him being caught by you only rouses him further, and he knows how much of a fucking pervert that makes him. He swallows hard as he pulls up his boxers, picking up his phone before he reaches for the door, his heart pounding in his ears.
There you are, standing right before him with the most poker face, before your fingers snakes around his wrist, shutting the main door as you lead him to his bedroom.
Seonghwa lands on his bed with you on top of him, a coy smile spreading across your cheek as you tilt his chin up with your finger, admiring the way he licks his plump lips in anticipation, his eyes wide and so entranced. His boxers are drenched to the point where you’re able to see the shape of his cockhead.
You make him watch you drop each piece of clothing onto the floor, agonisingly slow, almost like a strip tease and Seonghwa is eating up every single part of it until you’re just towering over him with you lingerie on. You sit on his lap, dangerously close to his erection.
“I was just about to ask you if you wanted to hang out since I was in the area. But I guess you had other plans, hmm?” You ask, tugging against the waistband of his underwear, the mild friction of fabric against his sensitive cock pulling a gasp out of the male.
You tug, and he lets you, his cock springing out as his boxers are strewn somewhere.
“Do you want me to touch you?” You ask, letting your hands rest on his thighs, giving him slow rubs, watching his cock twitch with every squeeze.
“Please. Touch me. Fuck me”, he says, albeit breathlessly, his fingers fisting against his bedsheets. Shame doesn’t exist in his vocabulary now.
He’s so fucking sensitive right now that the moment your hands start pumping his length, he already feels like he’s about to blow his load, but he forces himself to not to, even though strings of his sanity continue to snap one by one. Seonghwa’s cock is heavy against his abdomen, the previous edging session making his cock more sensitive than before, completely soaked and sticky. He swears you don’t know how long he’s been craving for this, needing this.
You’re soaked enough as it is, and the way Seonghwa is looking at you, so wet and desperate, his eyes so glazed out. You think he looks pretty when he’s on the verge of tears.
Maybe you should start taking advantage of it from now on.
Your fingers rest under his chin. “How long have you been touching yourself thinking of me?” You ask, his cock resting on your ass. He feels like he’s about to break.
“A while”, he mutters.
“Made you wait, didn’t I?”
Surprisingly he shakes his head, eyes still glued to yours. Even after all the perverse thoughts he flooded his mind with of you, he thinks it was worth every second to wait—he just didn’t expect it to come down to this so soon. You cup his jaw with your hands this time, leaning in to press your lips against his, sending his mind into a completely spiral at the taste of you. Seonghwa can’t get enough of the way you’re swirling your tongue against his, swiping his bottom lip, giving his bottom lip gentle bites and he chases after the sensation like starved person, his hand pressing against the back of your neck while the other is soft against your jaw. It’s passionate and so hungry for that few short minutes before you pull away, watching Seonghwa swallow hard as the sticky fluids from his cock stain your ass. Well? Not like you minded.
You pull your panties to the side, lifting your hips over his swollen cock, slowly sinking down, inch by inch, watching Seonghwa’s abdomen flex, while Seonghwa watches you with glazed eyes.
“Fuck. Oh fuckkkkk. So good. You’re so fucking warm”, he whimpers. Seonghwa swears he came just a little when he’s fully seated in you. His face contorts as he sinks into the pillows beneath him, trying to control his breathing as he shuts his eyes.
He’s so adorable, you think to yourself, watching him completely melt when he’s inside you. His hands are spread out on your thighs, then becoming a grip when you start moving, slowly creating a rhythm to bounce off his cock, the wet sounds of skin slapping growing louder by the seconds.
“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well for me”, you sigh, your mind plunged in the depths of pleasure as you bounce on his cock, watching Seonghwa with his thick furrowed eyebrows before he slowly opens them, his eyes rolling back.
He feels like he’s in heaven. Seonghwa thinks like it can’t get any better than this. Your moans are the only thing he hears, your cunt swallowing him is the only thing he feels.
Then the feeling hits—the feeling of wanting to burst. He stares up at you with a pleading gaze before he says, “gonna cum. Oh my fuck.” His head is spinning with stars, vision clouded with a dizzy white before he stills in you, holding your thighs down as he fills your cunt with spurts of warm cum. Seonghwa’s moans are pitched and they sound so fucking pornographic—it makes you want to overstimulate him over and over till he completely breaks. He’s breathless, moans turning into whines when you don’t lift yourself off him just yet, and squeezing his cock.
The base of his cock is slowly growing thick and sticky with cream and cum, but Seonghwa is craving for more. He is insatiable. His arms wrap around you, and in one swift motion, you’re suddenly below him. He pretty much folds you into half—well, mostly bending your legs and letting him stare at your sopping pussy like a fucking pervert as he pulls out and slides in again, watching the way his cum seeps out of you on top of forming thick strings of cum. Gods, you swear Seonghwa is such a perfect pervert.
“Let me eat you out, please. Want you to cum on my face, y/n”, he pleads, even though he’s already lowering himself down to your cunt. “I’ll make sure you feel so fucking good. Please.”
You giggle, tangling your fingers in Seonghwa’s hair, stroking his soft locks.
“If you do, you can cum in me as many times as you want.”
Your reply alone sends the poor man into the fucking heavens, having him pull your completely cum soiled underwear off your hips before latching his tongue against your soft and creamy folds.
Fuck. Seonghwa thinks he found his heaven.
Repeated flicks with this tongue against your clit pulls loud moans out of you, the way his tongue rubs against it over and over again, his eyes staring up at you like an angel’s.
Soon enough, your fingers are tugging against his hair while you drive him deeper into your cunt. Seonghwa can’t help but rut against the bedsheets to your moans, his eyes shutting from time to time from the friction of his cock and the sound of your voice as you call out his name whenever he hits a sweet spot.
“Hwa, I’m cumming. Oh, you’re such a good boy”, you mutter, shifting your hips as you fuck against his wet tongue, and Seonghwa’s hands are holding your hips down, your clit pulsing erratically on his tongue when your orgasm floods your senses. He watches the way you’re squirming—the way your head falls back, your legs spread open, the way you’re calling out, “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa!” when you’re rapidly falling apart on his tongue. The grip on your hips tighten, soft gasps and pants leave his lips as red flushes against his cheeks once more.
Your thighs clamp against his head as slick and cream dirties the sheets beneath you, the sensitivity ramping up in levels once your high wears off. Nonetheless his tongue is still lapping up your cum like he’s dehydrated, and your thighs relax to let him off. He looks so fucking pussydrunk that it makes your head spin.
Seonghwa sits up, albeit shakily, and you see why. His cum sits in a puddle where he was lying down on the bedsheets, some trickling down his thighs. You can’t help but smile, crawling towards him to close the distance between the both of you, stopping right before him to kiss his jaw.
“Tell me all your fantasies about me, Hwa. Let’s make them all come true”, you hum calmly, rubbing his inner thighs gently, watching his eyes form hearts as more thick white spurts out of his red cockhead.
You know he still has rounds to go.
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#y/n x seonghwa#seonghwa ateez#seonghwa smut#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa
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Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 2: Captain’s Dinner
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
Warning/Notes: Captain Price x Reader (on this chapter only, the poly 141 is still building), Oral sex (F receiver), a bit nasty
The rest of the drive goes by in a breath, suspiciously, Simon didn't step on any more bumps, and it felt like being rocking a baby. Kyle got his hand inside your shirt, but as nasty as your acts before, now his hand was just innocently caressing your back, keeping you calm and pliant against him.
At some point, the car stops and you hear Simon talk with someone outside of the car.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
The car moves again but for short this time. And just after a minute or two, the car stops and Simon turns off the engine. Everyone begins to exit the car, Kyle included with you in his arms. You notice people walking around, not too close but enough to see you, and you start to feel self-aware of the fact that you are being carried like a baby by the Sergeant.
“Can you put me down? I want to walk.” You say squirming a bit in the Sergeant’s arms.
“It's faster this way actually, doll.” He responds giving you a quick smile.
“At least put me on your back, it feels weird not seeing where we going.” You say turning your head around as much as you can.
Kyle snickers, making you turn to him with your eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, I actually would be really glad if you let me carry you like this the rest of the way because like this I can hide the fact that I came on my pants like a teenager.”
“Oh.” That's all you managed to say as you feel your cheek blushing. You can definitely feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but he must definitely feel his underwear hardening.
“Soap, Ghost, we will tomorrow at 0700 for a debriefing of today's events. Go rest now. Kyle, come into my office so we can find the key and free our little birdie.” Price orders behind you, relief flowing through your veins at the thought of being free.
Kyle enters the room, Price’s office by logic, and sits you on a desk. And once you are seated, he raises his arm and crouches down getting out of the weird knot of limbs.
He stands before you, free, as you look at him dumbfounded, still cuffed.
“H-how… You could do that?!” You ask looking at him. “I thought you didn't fit, that's why you haven't got out! You could do that?!”
Kyle simply chuckles at you while he adjusts his pants quickly and drops a peck on your forehead whispering against your skin. “Sorry, luv. But it was just too comfortable.” He turns to Price, announcing he is going to take a shower and leaves the room sending you a wink right before closing the door.
You turn to Price, looking a bit shocked still and he picks the key from the drawer at his desk. “Sorry about him, he is a good lad. Hope you were not uncomfortable, right?” He asks as he walks up to you, you put your hands together expecting him to unlock the cuffs, but instead, his hands travel to the back of your tights and he picks you up forcing you to put your hands around his shoulder (almost strangling him for a second before you remember to move your hands above his head)
You let him be, too tired already to fight anymore, and he sits you on the other side of the desk. In front of his chair, once you are seated, he sits on his chair and gets between your legs.
The sight in front of you shouldn't be allowed, broad shoulders making you physically spread your legs to accommodate him, blue eyes looking up at you and warm hands picking yours. “Let's take these off, yeah?”
“Yes, please.” You whisper back, not even sure what you are begging for.
Price takes the cuffs back, furrowing when he sees the red mark where the metal dented into your soft skin. He caresses both wrists drawing circles and then one of them goes higher on your arm up to the bandages. “How's the pain?” He asks looking at your arm.
“Hm? Oh, that… honestly, I always thought bullet wounds would hurt a lot more. It's not too bad, I almost had forgotten about it.” You say smiling back at him.
He chuckles back shaking his head. “I'm definitely having you give a pep talk to the rookies. Sorry about your blouse, as well. I'll pay for a new one.” He says caressing your arm.
“Oh, there is no need, really. This is an old one, I should have thrown it out a bit ago anyway.” You admit shaking your hands to let him know there is no need.
“I insist. And if you get any medical bills, or need any physiotherapy sessions or anything. We will pay for them, we'll take care of you, doll.” He says standing up to his full height still between your legs.
“You keep saying that…”
“What do you mean?”
“That you will take care of me.”
“Yes. We will if you allow us.”
You look at his face, trying to decipher what he means. But the intensity of his gaze pulls the air out of your lungs leaving you breathless, the heat from his body is scorching against you and the ground seems so far away you feel like you falling off a cliff.
“Are you okay, doll?” He asks softly looking to meet your gaze again cupping your face.
“Yeah.” You say softly pulling his hand away and you put a hand on his chest pushing him back. “I-I should get going, I have work in the morning it's better if I get back home.”
“You can stay the night if you want, I'll drive you to work tomorrow.” He quickly responds like he doesn't want you to go.
“Capt- John.” You correct yourself earning a smile from him. “John, I need to shower, and I don't have any clean clothes, really you have done more than enough for me, I will just go home.”
You stay looking at him, waiting for him to move back so you can hop off the desk and get out. But he doesn't, instead, he gets closer and moves both hands to cup your face making you look at him. “You are thinking too hard, doll.”
And then, as natural as it is to blink, he kisses you.
A soft peck right on the corner of your mouth to test the waters, a soft peck on the other side, and then, softly, almost like melting at the touch, a kiss right to the centre of your lips.
He moves slightly back, enough to be able to speak and ask. “You solid?”
And you nod.
You are not even a hundred per cent sure you know what he means, but you know that whatever the man in front of you would ask, you would say yes.
You shouldn't, you don't know him. You only know his name and his position as Captain. You know your mind is not clear, right now he is your saviour, he is been taking care of you since you met, and he is so strong, so gentle with you, so handsome.
You shouldn't be leaning in for another kiss, but you are.
There is always tomorrow for regrets.
But tonight, all your senses scream John Price.
Never did you though a kiss could get you so hot and bothered, he only has his hands on your face and his lips on yours and you are already panting.
He moves forward, hips crashing onto yours making you gasp and he uses the opportunity to get his tongue on your mouth.
You can taste the tobacco on his tongue, swimming down your body. His hands move, taking your hair back into a ponytail and he pulls back. It stings and you groan softly, shifting to a moan when you feel his lips down your throat.
His moustache tickles the soft skin of your neck in contrast with the scorching feeling of his breath. “Who beat me to it?” He asks, chuckling drily looking at something on your neck.
Fucking Kyle.
“Better to erase it, doll.” He says, possessiveness taking over him. And there are no more soft kisses, now he makes out, no, he devours your neck like a madman. Sucking and biting, feeling the mark erupt and your panties to grow wetter.
You bite your lip to try and not make an embarrassment of yourself from how badly you want to moan, and you take his shirt out of his pants. Running your hands under the shirt, needing to feel him.
“I hope you don't mind, sweetheart. Since it is already ruined…” He trails off as he grabs your shirt over your chest and pulls, hard, pulling the buttons of the fabric and ripping it where it didn't give in.
He almost growls when he sees the skin giggle and he dives right into your chest. His hands rest on your waist pulling you forward him, pulling your shirt out of your pants.
You try to take off your jacket, but the sudden movement causes a sharp pain in your arm making you groan in pain. Price quickly detaches himself from your skin to look at your face, alarmed he hurted you. “Sorry, you alright love?” He asks feeling guilty. You shake your head, only worrying him more and then you add. “It's not you, the jacket. Got stuck on the bandages or something; can you help me, please?” He smirks mischievously at you. “Help you to undress? Oh, darling, that's my pleasure.”
He kisses you on your lips again, taking off your jacket carefully and then your shirt. He pulls your bra strap down your shoulder, leaving your bra downside, your boobs out and pushes up. He cups one of your boobs groaning on your mouth when you moan softly and then bends down to get the other one inside his mouth.
He twirls his tongue around your nipple, savouring the taste of your skin. You move your hand to the back of his head, and when he gets lower, right under your boob over your ribs, and he bites you as you pull his hair moaning his name. “John…”
“Yeah, darling, moan my name like that.” He mumbles against your skin before he goes back to your mouth. “You taste like fucking candy, sweetheart. Can't fucking wait to taste all of your.”
“Do it. Do it, please.” You say against his mouth, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Aw, darling, what a fucking sight. Asking so nicely, how can I say no?” He says between kisses as he undoes your pants.
He lifts your ass from the desk with an arm as he pulls down your pants and your underwear all together. He leaves you again on the desk and undoes the clasp of your bra taking it off. Leaving you completely bare on his desk, while he remains completely dressed. The vest is even still on.
“Fuck… I must have been a fucking saint on my last life to be worth it of this sight, angel.” He says looking up and down your body as he moves his hands from your waist up to your face to give you a kiss. “I'm gonna make you feel good, love. So, so good…” he trails off as he begins to give kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbones, sternum, tummy, and just when he is about to reach your mount. He pulls back making you whine. “Shh, pretty, just getting comfy.”
He grabs the chair from before sitting down, gets closer between your legs and pulls them over his shoulder forcing you to lean on your back using the elbow that is not hurt to prop yourself up enough to see him.
He kisses the inside of your tights, from your knee and higher, higher, higher… you can feel his beard on that soaking part of you where you need him the most. But he doesn't indulge you, instead, he goes back to your knee and high again. Teasing you, leaving you panting, aching, clenching around anything, needy, desperate.
“John… please… no more teasing…” you beg, feeling desperate for him.
“Poor baby, already soaking.” He says looking directly at your cunt, and you feel as he presses a thumb on your clit making you shudder at the feeling and he slowly moves it down your slit, reaching your dripping hole and pressing it, but without getting it inside. Just collecting your juices and driving you mad.
He takes the thumb up to his lips licking it while he looks at your eyes. “Just as I thought, fucking candy, love.” You want to complain, to grab his hair and shove his face against your cunt but the only thing that leaves your lips is a bratty whine, too horny to think straight.
You feel Price chuckle against your skin, and when you finally feel ready to tell him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit turning your brain to absolute mush as you let go of a moan worth of a porn video as you let your head fall back.
He moves his head up and down, letting his tongue move between your folds; collecting your arousal mixing it with his spit making a mess on his beard.
His index finger moves to your entrance, slowly getting it inside stretching you slightly because of the size of his hands. He sucks at your clit, almost making out with it. And once he feels satisfied with it, he gets a second finger inside.
You keep moaning his name, like a mantra almost, not being able to remain quiet when he begins to thrust his finger in and out of your wet cunt. The sounds, the squelch, the sight, delightful.
You have been given head before, but never like this. It never had you begin for them to keep going, to not let you hanging, never this desperate. But John Price, it has you wishing you could kiss the terrorist of your neighbour just for putting you in his line of vision.
He curls his fingers inside of you pressing a point that has you falling on your back hitting your head load enough for him to chuckle against your cunt, but before he can lift his head to check on you, you just get your hand on his head keeping him in place.
Caressing his hair, spreading your legs even wider, he eats you out like a man starved. Like he hasn't eaten in days like he just found a water fountain in the middle of the desert.
You realise then, that the reason why you have never felt like this before with any ex-lover, is because you have never felt this desired. You can feel Price moaning against your cunt, and it makes you wonder who is enjoying it more.
Not for long though, because you begin to feel the knot on your stomach get tighter. More and more tight, you feel your toes curl and you close your eyes letting your mouth open as you feel the knot coming undone like an elevator free-falling. A high-pitched moan leaves your lips that in any other situation would make you feel embarrassed and your tights clasp around Price’s head when he doesn't relent on his attack.
He helps you ride out your orgasm as you cover your face with your hands, the light in the room is suddenly too bright, and after a couple of seconds, you look up at him.
And the sight…
He is sitting, leaning back against the chair, manspreading wide, an elbow resting on the armrest as he lazily licks clean the fingers that were just inside of you. Absolutely content with himself and his accomplishments, a sight absolutely devilishly delicious.
You notice the tent on his pants, and you try to touch him with your feet. But he grabs your ankle, and you don't have enough energy on you to push it.
“As much as I would like to keep going, doll.” He says letting your leg down and coming up closer to your face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I think it's time to rest.”
He stands up, goes somewhere behind you that you guess is the bathroom because of the sound of water and a bit later, he is back. He picks you up, and lays down on a sofa, with you on top.
A bathroom and a sofa inside of his personal office, he really is a military captain. He covers the both of you with a blanket, he gives you a kiss to the forehead and before you know it, you are out.
Post-nut clarity doesn't hit until a couple of hours later.
You are naked, in an unknown man's office, far away from home, with no phone, no keys, no money, no clothes, ashamed.
So you do the only thing you can do, you slip away from the sleeping handsome man, get dressed as fast as you can without making any noise and leave the room. You don't even bother to put on your blouse, choosing to just close your jacket.
Once outside, you let a sigh escape your lips. You know the military base, it is actually not that far away from your home, less than an hour walking back.
Are you excited about walking back home at the break of dawn alone? No. Do you have another choice? Not really, not any that would help reduce the walk of shame you found yourself doing.
So you get your hands on your pockets and start doing your half a marathon back home.
And just as the sun is beginning to pick over the horizon, you reach your home.
Just last night there were dozens of police cars, military workers, everything, the whole paraphernalia. But now? It is just dead silence, no a soul in sight, as if nothing has ever happened.
The janitor calls your name when he sees you, he gives you your keys and tells you that the police dropped them by when they cleaned everything.
You wait for the elevator and make your way up to your floor. On apartment 608, there is a police notice, banning everyone from getting close to the crime scene. There are bullet holes and some bloody handprints on the walls, a blood splutters a bit too close to the height your arm is.
You shake your head trying to forget about it, and open your door. Once inside, you lock the door and look for your phone. Only to remember that it must be in your bag, in your car, where you dropped it when you tried to run.
You look at the clock on the wall that you always forget about, and realise you have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it time to work. So get at it.
Most of those 20 minutes, go into taking a shower. You feel dirty, mainly because you are, but also because you feel used. You think about Price and Kyle, handsome military men, they have probably visited countries you don't even know exist and they probably have a lover in each of them.
You are probably just another one, and you let them in so easily. They must have barely felt any satisfaction from such an easy catch.
You feel like crying for being so silly, but a voice in your head stops you. The voice in your head that picks you up whenever you fuck something up. Don't cry! Why would you cry?! They used you just as much as you used them! And they are not crying! So neither are you! You made a grown man cum on his pants by rubbing yourself a bit and an even grown-er man basically get on his knees to eat you out! So don't cry!
So you get out of the shower with another attitude, you are going to get a hold of the situation, you are going to get space between these men and yourself, and you are going to be just fine!
“Son of a bitch!” You exclaim when you see yourself in the mirror, if you had thrown yourself down the stairs there would be fewer bruises on your body. Well, not bruises, hickeys.
You huff getting out of the bathroom to get dressed, and then back to the bathroom to cover all the hickeys.
By divine grace, you make on time for work. You are exhausted, starving and if any of your coworkers spoke to you today just a bit out of tone, you would chew their arms off. But luckily, everything goes right.
At least, until you get back home, and the first thing you see when you get off the elevator, is a masked man standing in front of your door.
I guess it is a series now, I don't know where I'm going with it but there is still a couple of things I have thoughts about.
If you guys have any ideas or scenarios please, tell me hehe
And if you want me to tag you on the next part drop a coment 💗
#call of duty#call of duty smut#cod smut#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#poly tf141#tf 141 x reader#price#captain price#john price smut#captain price smut#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#price x y/n#ghost x y/n#soap x y/n#gaz x y/n#ghost smut#soap smut#gaz smut#cod mw2#cod#kyle gaz garrick
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Im on my knees for perv step bro luke smut please I will sell you my first born child if you do this
u can keep ur firstborn sweetheart
cw; stepcest, perv!luke, loser!luke kind of, religious themes
stepbro!luke who always makes sure to walk behind you when you’re going up the stairs, especially if you’re wearing a skirt or a short dress— he knows it’s wrong, but the slight glimpse of your panties makes his knees buckle, having him stumble over the next step. you’ll always turn back to glare at him like he’s an idiot, “what’s wrong with you?”
stepbro!luke who only goes to church because you go, and the whole time he’s inappropriately manspreading with no regard for the lord, too focused on the way his knee brushes yours.
stepbro!luke who rolls his eyes when you ask him to do things for you, a research paper, fixing the light in your room, catching a bug— he acts annoyed, but he really isn’t, especially in the situation where you need him to ‘save you’ from a spider in your room. you’d run into his room all afraid, basically clinging to him when he stands and moves to look where the spider is.
stepbro!luke who tries to ignore the way your plush tits press against him when you wrap your arms around him after he had gotten rid of the spider, spewing out praises and thank you’s. “i owe you one, seriously!”
stepbro!luke who brings up that you owe him one the next time you come into his room whilst he’s working on something for engineering, he really needs some relief, and you already know what he means when he says that. you say it’s wrong, that you and him shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be thinking like this— but you always end up moving to your knees, undoing his belt, and wrapping your lips around his tip.
luke’s glasses fog up from his labored breaths when he leans his head back, his fingers tug and tug at your hair until he’s practically face fucking you, memorizing how long it takes for you to sputter and draw back off of him. he should care about how dirty this is, but when you’re on your knees replicating the way you pray to your god, luke feels nothing but holy.
#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ#luke castellan#luke castellan x you#luke castellan blurb#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan oneshot#stepbro!luke#charlie bushnell#charlie bushnell x you#charlie bushnell imagine#charlie bushnell x reader
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Fit for a Queen
Stand-alone Charles Leclerc x Reader / Lewis Hamilton x Reader / Toto Wolff x Reader / Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: all the ways that you partner loves to spoil you (a compilation of unrelated stories)
Charles Leclerc: His and Hers
You’re parked by the side of a winding road, smoke pouring out from the hood of your old car. As you curse the bad timing, your phone lights up. It’s a call from your boyfriend.
“Hey mon ange, I saw on the tracker that you’ve stopped. Everything alright?”
You sigh, “Not really. My car has decided to give up on life. I’m stranded.”
There’s a brief pause. “Where are you?”
“I was driving back from that little cafe we love in Nice.”
“I’m on my way. Wait for me,” Charles says and before you can protest the line goes dead.
True to his word, in less than twenty minutes, a sleek black Ferrari pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down to reveal Charles’ concerned face. “Need a ride?” He teases.
You laugh, your worries momentarily forgotten. “Always showing off, aren’t you?”
He grins, “Get in.”
Over the next few days, he insists you borrow his Ferrari. “It suits you,” he often remarks with a wink. Every morning, you’re met with the thrill of driving that beast, the roar of the engine, the luxury of the leather seats, the admiring and envious looks from strangers.
It’s heady.
One evening, after a particularly long day, you return home to find Charles waiting for you in the garage. Parked next to his car is a red Ferrari 488 Pista, a striking stripe in the colors of your home country’s flag running down the middle.
“What’s this?” You ask, your heart racing.
“For you,” he replies with a smile. “Figured you needed an upgrade.”
You’re stunned. “Charles ... this is too much.”
He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Nothing is too much for you. I love seeing the way your eyes light up when you drive. I wanted to give you that every day.”
Your eyes tear up, overwhelmed. “Thank you, mon amour.”
He pulls you in, his lips capturing yours as he presses you against the Ferrari. “How about we take it for a spin?” He murmurs against your lips. “And maybe ... christen the new car?”
A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you nod in agreement, “I can think of a few ways to show you how much I appreciate the gift.”
Lewis Hamilton: Knight in Shining Armor
“What do you mean they’re foreclosing?” Your voice trembles as you pace the living room of your boyfriend’s penthouse.
“I’m so sorry, my darling. We tried to keep up with the payments but after your father’s medical bills ... it just became too much.” Your mother’s voice is heavy with guilt and despair.
Tears sting your eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.” You end the call, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble floor, overwhelmed.
A discreet cough interrupts your thoughts and you glance up to find Lewis standing in the doorway, looking concerned. You didn’t even see him come in. How much did he hear?
“Babe, are you okay?” He asks softly, approaching you.
You wipe away your tears, attempting to put on a brave face. “It’s just family stuff. I’ll handle it.”
Lewis crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. “Talk to me.”
Taking a deep breath, you explain, “My family’s house ... the bank is foreclosing on it. It’s the home I grew up in, Lew. All those memories ...”
He pulls you into his arms as you break down again despite your best efforts, “I’m so sorry.”
A few days pass and you’re doing your best to focus on finding a solution when Lewis calls you into his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Port Hercules but you barely notice, still lost in your churning thoughts. A series of documents are spread out on the desk.
“What’s all this?” You ask, curiosity piqued.
“Just take a look,” Lewis urges with a gentle smile.
You start reading and realization hits. The paperwork states that the mortgage on your family’s home has been fully paid off. You look up at Lewis, incredulous. “Did you ...”
He shrugs modestly, “I overheard your phone call. How could I not help? That house means the world to you. And all it took was a few phone calls to make sure your family could keep it.”
You’re speechless, tears of gratitude spilling over. “Lew, this is ... I can’t believe you did this for me.”
He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I love spoiling you but it’s not just about luxury trips or designer clothes. It’s about making sure you and your family are safe and happy. Knowing I’m the reason for the smile on your face … that’s the best gift I could ever ask for in return.”
You hug him tight, overwhelmed by his gesture, and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you. This means more than words can express.”
He kisses your forehead. “Anything for you, love.”
Toto Wolff: Still Bejeweled
The ornate chandeliers of the luxurious Parisian boutique cast reflections from the exquisite jewelry on display. Toto’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you peruse the selection, clearly lost in the artistry of each piece.
“That will look stunning on you,” Toto observes as you admire a necklace with delicate diamonds cascading down, each gleaming brighter than the last.
You laugh, “I haven’t even tried it on yet.”
His confident smirk remains. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell.”
On impulse, you ask the sales associate to let you try it on. As it settles around your neck, you can’t help but be mesmerized by its beauty.
Toto steps closer, appreciating the way it lays against your skin. “It’s perfect. Let’s take it.”
You feel a flutter of excitement but reality sets in. “How much is it?”
Toto immediately interjects, “It doesn't matter, we’ll—”
“€290,000. From the Pluie de Cartier collection,” the sales associate replies with a practiced smile.
Your heart sinks. It’s astronomical. You gently take the necklace off. “It’s beautiful but not for me.”
Toto looks at you, eyes filled with an earnest plea. “Let me get it for you.”
You shake your head firmly, “No, Toto. It’s too way much.”
He sighs, a mix of frustration and understanding. “You’re worth every penny and more.”
You smile, touched by his words. “I appreciate it but I’m just not comfortable with you spending that much money on me.”
He nods, respecting your wishes, but the disappointment in his eyes is evident. After browsing a bit more, the two of you make your way out of the store, the necklace you both fell in love with left behind.
Life with Toto is a whirlwind of races, galas, and stolen intimate moments. The necklace, though unforgettable, fades to the back of your mind.
One evening, after a particularly lovely dinner, Toto guides you to the master bedroom you both share. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow and at the foot of your bed is a small red box.
Curious, you open the embellished leather to find the same necklace you had admired weeks ago. Tears spring to your eyes as you spin around to face your partner.
“You didn’t …”
Toto kneels before you as your shaky legs collapse backwards to sit on the bed. “I know you said you didn’t want it. But every time I saw it, I imagined it on you. I saw the glimmer in your eyes when you tried it on. It’s where it belongs.”
You shiver as he takes the necklace from your hands and gently puts it around your neck, his fingers tracing your skin as he locks the clasps together. “Toto, I ... thank you.”
He smiles, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I just want you to have everything your heart desires.”
You lean into his embrace, the feeling of truly being cherished sending warmth through your whole body. “I already do.”
Max Verstappen: Jet Setters
You’re reclined on the couch, leafing through a magazine with one hand while petting Sassy with the other, when a sudden craving strikes. That gelato from Milan, the one you have whenever you are there with Max for the Italian Grand Prix. The mere thought has your mouth watering.
Seeing your restless expression, Max puts down his tablet and raises an eyebrow. “You alright, schatje?”
You sigh dramatically, cradling your pregnant belly. “I’m craving that gelato we had in Milan. Nothing else will do.”
He chuckles, “Are you serious?”
You nod, trying to suppress a smile. “Very.”
Without missing a beat, Max picks up his phone. “Alright. Milan it is, then.”
You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but within hours, you’re aboard a private jet, Milan-bound. The luxurious interior, plush seats, and array of gourmet snacks would be the highlight for most but your mind is firmly stuck on that gelato.
As the jet descends, the sprawling Lombard countryside greets you. Max holds your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Anything for my girls,” he promises, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your belly.
The car waiting for you outside speeds through the crowded streets, bringing you to the familiar storefront in Centro Storico. The owner, recognizing you both, greets you with a wide smile and hands over multiple coolers filled with your favorite flavor that Max called ahead for.
Back on the jet, Milan a fading dot in the distance, you sit contentedly savoring each spoonful as Max watches with a tender smile on his face.
“You could have had any gelato in the world and you chose this one,” he teases.
You grin, “Just like I chose you.”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “And I would fly with you to the ends of the earth just to keep that smile on your face.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#toto wolff x reader#max verstappen x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#charles leclerc imagine#lewis hamilton imagine#toto wolff imagine#max verstappen imagine#f1blr#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#charles leclerc#lewis hamilton#toto wolff#max verstappen#formula 1#formula one
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Recognizing AI Generated Images, Danmei Edition
Heyo, @unforth here! I run some danmei art blogs (@mdzsartreblogs, @tgcfartreblogs, @svsssartreblogs, @zhenhunartreblogs, @erhaartreblogs, @dmbjartreblogs, @tykartreblogs, and @cnovelartreblogs) which means I see a LOT of danmei art, and I go through the main fandom tags more-or-less every day.
Today, for the first time, I spotted someone posting AI-generated images (I refuse to call them AI "art" - and to be clear, that's correct of me, because at least in the US it literally LEGALLY isn't art) without any label indicating they were AI generated. I am not necessarily against the existence of AI-generated images (though really...considering all the legal issues and the risks of misuse, I'm basically against them); I think they potentially have uses in certain contexts (such as for making references) and I also think that regardless of our opinions, we're stuck with them, but they're also clearly not art and I don't reblog them to the art side blogs.
The images I spotted today had multiple "tells," but they were still accumulating notes, and I thought it might be a good moment to step back and point out some of the more obvious tells because my sense is that a LOT of people are against AI-generated images being treated as art, and that these people wouldn't want to support an AI-generator user who tried to foist off their work as actual artwork, but that people don't actually necessarily know how to IDENTIFY those works and therefore can inadvertently reblog works that they'd never support if they were correctly identified. (Similar to how the person who reposts and says "credit to the artist" is an asshole but they're not the same as someone who reposts without any credit at all and goes out of their way to make it look like they ARE the artist when they're not).
Toward that end, I've downloaded all the images I spotted on this person's account and I'm going to use them to highlight the things that led me to think they were AI art - they posted a total of 5 images to a few major danmei tags the last couple days, and several other images not to specific fandoms (I examined 8 images total). The first couple I was suspicious, but it wasn't til this morning that I spotted one so obvious that it couldn't be anything BUT AI art. I am NOT going to name the person who did this. The purpose of this post is purely educational. I have no interest whatsoever in bullying one rando. Please don't try to identify them; who they are is genuinely irrelevant, what matters is learning how to recognize AI art in general and not spreading it around, just like the goal of education about reposting is to help make sure that people who repost don't get notes on their theft, to help people recognize the signs so that the incentive to be dishonest about this stuff is removed.
But first: Why is treating AI-generated images as art bad?
I'm no expert and this won't be exhaustive, but I do think it's important to first discuss why this matters.
On the surface, it's PERHAPS harmless for someone to post AI-generated images provided that the image is clearly labeled as AI-generated. I say "perhaps" because in the end, as far as I'm aware, there isn't a single AI-generation engine that's built on legally-sourced artwork. Every AI (again, to the best of my knowledge) has been trained using copyrighted images usually without the permission of the artists. Indeed, this is the source of multiple current lawsuits. (and another)
But putting that aside (as if it can be put aside that AI image generators are literally unethically built), it's still problematic to support the images being treated as art. Artists spend thousands of hours learning their craft, honing it, sharing their creations, building their audiences. This is what they sell when they offer commissions, prints, etc. This can never be replicated by a computer, and to treat an AI-generated image as in any way equivalent is honestly rude, inappropriate, disgusting imo. This isn't "harmless"; supporting AI image creation engines is damaging to real people and their actual livelihoods. Like, the images might be beautiful, but they're not art. I'm honestly dreading someone managing to convince fandom that their AI-generated works are actual art, and then cashing in on commissions, prints, etc., because people can't be fussed to learn the difference. We really can't let this happen, guys. Fanartists are one of the most vibrant, important, prominent groups in all our fandoms, and we have to support them and do our part to protect them.
As if those two points aren't enough, there's already growing evidence that AI-generated works are being used to further propagandists. There are false images circulating of violence at protests, deep-fakes of various kinds that are helping the worst elements of society to push their horrid agendas. As long as that's a facet of AI-generated works, they'll always be dangerous.
I could go on, but really this isn't the main point of my post and I don't want to get bogged down. Other people have said more eloquently than I why AI-generated images are bad. Read those. (I tried to find a good one to link but sadly failed; if anyone knows a good post, feel free to send it and I'll add the link to the post).
Basically: I think a legally trained AI-image generator that had built-in clear watermarks could be a fun toy for people who want reference images or just to play with making pseudo-art. But...that's not what we have, and what we do have is built on theft and supports dystopia so, uh. Yeah fuck AI-generated images.
How to recognize AI-Generated Images Made in an Eastern Danmei Art Style
NOTE: I LEARNED ALL THE BASIC ON SPOTTING AI-GENERATED IMAGES FROM THIS POST. I'll own I still kinda had the wool over my eyes until I read that post - I knew AI stuff was out there but I hadn't really looked closely enough to have my eyes open for specific signs. Reading that entire post taught me a lot, and what I learned is the foundation of this post.
This post shouldn't be treated as a universal guide. I'm specifically looking at the tells on the kind of art that people in danmei fandoms often see coming from Weibo and other Chinese, Japanese, and Korean platforms, works made by real artists. For example, the work of Foxking (狐狸大王a), kokirapsd, and Changyang (who is an official artist for MDZS, TGCF, and other danmei works). This work shares a smooth use of color, an aim toward a certain flavor of realism, an ethereal quality to the lighting, and many other features. (Disclaimer: I am not an artist. Putting things in arty terms is really not my forte. Sorry.)
So, that's what these AI-generated images are emulating. And on the surface, they look good! Like...
...that's uncontestably a pretty picture (the white box is covering the "artist's" watermark.) And on a glance, it doesn't necessarily scream "AI generated"! But the devil is in the details, and the details are what this post is about. And that picture? Is definitely AI generated.
This post is based on 8 works I grabbed from a single person's account, all posted as their own work and watermarked as such. Some of the things that are giveaways only really show when looking at multiple pieces. I'm gonna start with those, and then I'll highlight some of the specifics I spotted that caused me to go from "suspicious" to "oh yeah no these are definitely not art."
Sign 1: all the images are the exact same size. I mean, to the pixel: 512 x 682 pixels (or 682 x 512, depending on landscape or portrait orientation). This makes zero sense. Why would an artist trim all their pieces to that size? It's not the ideal Tumblr display size (that's 500 x 750 pixels). If you check any actual artist's page and look at the full-size of several of their images, they'll all be different sizes as they trimmed, refined, and otherwise targeted around their original canvas size to get the results they wanted.
Sign 2: pixelated. At the shrunken size displayed on, say, a mobile Tumblr feed, the image looks fine, but even just opening the full size upload, the whole thing is pixelated. Now, this is probably the least useful sign; a lot of artists reduce the resolution/dpi/etc. on their uploaded works so that people don't steal them. But, taken in conjunction with everything else, it's definitely a sign.
Those are the two most obvious overall things - the things I didn't notice until I looked at all the uploads. The specifics are really what tells, though. Which leads to...
Sign 3: the overall work appears to have a very high degree of polish, as if it were made by an artist who really really knows what they're doing, but on inspection - sometimes even on really, REALLY cursory inspect - the details make zero sense and reflect the kinds of mistakes that a real artist would never make.
So, here's the image that I saw that "gave it away" to me, and caused me to re-examine the images that had first struck me as off but that I hadn't been able to immediately put my finger on the problem. I've circled some of the spots that are flagrant.
Do you see yet? Yes? Awesome, you're getting it. No? Okay, let's go point by point, with close ups.
Sign 4: HANDS. Hands are currently AI's biggest weakness, though they've been getting better quickly and honestly that's terrifying. But whatever AI generated this picture clearly doesn't get hands yet, because that hand is truly an eldritch horror. Look at this thing:
It has two palms. It has seven fingers. It's basically two hands overlaid over each other, except one of those hands only has four fingers and the other has three. Seeing this hand was how I went from "umm...maybe they're fake? Maybe they're not???" to "oh god why is ANYONE reblogging this when it's this obvious?" WATCH THE HANDS. (Go back up to that first one posted and look at the hand, you'll see. Or just look right below at this crop.) Here's some other hands:
Sign 5: Hair and shadows. Once I started inspecting these images, the shadows of the hair on the face was one of the things that was most consistently fucked up across all the uploaded pictures. Take a look:
There's shadows of tendrils on the forehead, but there's no corresponding hair that could possibly have made those shadows. Likewise there's a whole bunch of shadows on the cheeks. Where are those coming from? There's no possible source in the rest of the image. Here's some other hair with unrelated wonky shadows:
Sign 6: Decorative motifs that are really just meaningless squiggles. Like, artists, especially those who make fanart, put actual thought into what the small motifs are on their works. Like, in TGCF, an artist will often use a butterfly motif or a flower petal motif to reflect things about the characters. An AI, though, can only approximate a pattern and it can't imbue those with meanings. So you end up with this:
What is that? It's nothing, that's what. It's a bunch of squiggles. Here's some other meaningless squiggle motifs (and a more zoomed-in version of the one just above):
Sign 7: closely related to meaningless squiggle motifs is motifs that DO look like something, but aren't followed through in any way that makes sense. For example, an outer garment where the motifs on the left and the right shoulder/chest are completely different, or a piece of cloth that's supposed to be all one piece but that that has different patterns on different sections of it. Both of these happen in the example piece, see?
The first images on the top left is the left and right shoulder side by side. The right side has a scalloped edge; the left doesn't. Likewise, in the right top picture, you can see the two under-robe lapels; one has a gold decoration and the other doesn't. And then the third/bottom image shows three sections of the veil. One (on the left) has that kind of blue arcy decoration, which doesn't follow the folds of the cloth very well and looks weird and appears at one point to be OVER the hair instead of behind it. The second, on top of the bottom images, shows a similar motif, except now it's gold, and it looks more like a hair decoration than like part of the veil. The third is also part of the same veil but it has no decorations at all. Nothing about this makes any sense whatsoever. Why would any artist intentionally do it that way? Or, more specifically, why would any artist who has this apparent level of technical skill ever make a mistake like this?
They wouldn't.
Some more nonsensical patterns, bad mirrors, etc. (I often put left/right shoulders side by side so that it'd be clearer, sorry if it's weird):
Sign 8: bizarre architecture, weird furniture, etc. Most of the images I'm examining for this post have only partial backgrounds, so it's hard to really focus on this, but it's something that the post I linked (this one) talks about a lot. So, like, an artist will put actual thought into how their construction works, but an AI won't because an AI can't. There's no background in my main example image, but take a look at this from another of my images:
On a glance it's beautiful. On a few seconds actually staring it's just fucking bizarre. The part of the ceiling on the right appears to be domed maybe? But then there's a hard angle, then another. The windows on the right have lots of panes, but then the one on the middle-left is just a single panel, and the ones on the far left have a complete different pane model. Meanwhile, also on the left side at the middle, there's that dark gray...something...with an arch that mimics the background arches except it goes no where, connects to nothing, and has no apparent relationship to anything else going on architecturally. And, while the ceiling curves, the back wall is straight AND shows more arches in the background even though the ceiling looks to end. And yes, some of this is possible architecture, but taken as a whole, it's just gibberish. Why would anyone who paints THAT WELL paint a building to look like THAT? They wouldn't. It's nonsense. It's the art equivalent of word salad. When we look at a sentence and it's like "dog makes a rhythmical salad to betray on the frame time plot" it almost resembles something that might mean something but it's clearly nonsense. This background is that sentence, as art.
Sign 9: all kinds of little things that make zero sense. In the example image, I circled where a section of the hair goes BELOW the inner robe. That's not impossible but it just makes zero sense. As with many of these, it's the kind of thing that taken alone, I'd probably just think "well, that was A Choice," but combined with all the other weird things it stands out as another sign that something here is really, really off. Here's a collection of similar "wtf?" moments I spotted across the images I looked at (I'm worried I'm gonna hit the Tumblr image cap, hence throwing these all in one, lol.)
You have to remember that an actual artist will do things for a reason. And we, as viewers, are so used to viewing art with that in mind that we often fill in reasons even when there aren't. Like, in the image just about this, I said, "what the heck are these flowers growing on?" And honestly, I COULD come up with explanations. But that doesn't mean it actually makes sense, and there's no REASON for it whatsoever. The theoretical same flowers are, in a different shot, growing unsupported! So...what gives??? The answer is nothing gives. Because these pieces are nothing. The AI has no reason, it's just tossing in random aesthetic pieces together in a mishmash, and the person who generated them is just re-generating and refining until they get something that looks "close enough" to what they wanted. It never was supposed to make sense, so of course it doesn't.
In conclusion...
After years of effort, artists have gotten across to most of fandom that reposts are bad, and helped us learn strategies for helping us recognize reposts, and given us an idea of what to do when we find one.
Fandom is just at the beginning of this process as it applies to AI-generated images. There's a LOT of education that has to be done - about why AI-generated images are bad (the unethical training using copyrighted images without permission is, imo, critical to understanding this), and about how to spot them, and then finally about what to do when you DO find them.
With reposts, we know "tell original artist, DCMA takedowns, etc." That's not the same with these AI-images. There's no original owner. There's no owner at all - in the US, at least, they literally cannot be copyrighted. Which is why I'm not even worrying about "credit" on this post - there's nothing stolen, cause there's nothing made. So what should you do?
Nothing. The answer is, just as the creator has essentially done nothing, you should also do nothing. Don't engage. Don't reblog. Don't commission the creator or buy their art prints. If they do it persistently and it bothers you, block them. If you see one you really like, and decide to reblog it, fine, go for it, but mark it clearly - put in the ACTUAL COMMENTS (not just in the tags!) that it's AI art, and that you thought it was pretty anyway. But honestly, it'd be better to not engage, especially since as this grows it's inevitable that some actual artists are going to start getting accused of posting AI-generated images by over-zealous people. Everyone who gets a shadow wrong isn't posting AI-generated images. A lot of these details are insanely difficult to get correct, and lots of even very skilled, accomplished artists, if you go over their work with a magnifying glass you're going to find at least some of these things, some weirdnesses that make no sense, some shadows that are off, some fingers that are just ugh (really, getting hands wrong is so relatable. hands are the fucking worst). It's not about "this is bad art/not art because the hand is wrong," it's specifically about the ways that it's wrong, the way a computer randomly throws pieces together versus how actual people make actual mistakes. It's all of the little signs taken as a whole to say "no one who could produce a piece that, on the surface, looks this nice, could possibly make THIS MANY small 'mistakes.'"
The absolute best thing you can do if you see AI-generated images being treated as real art is just nothing. Support actual artists you love, and don't spread the fakes.
Thanks for your time, everyone. Good luck avoiding AI-generated pieces in the future, please signal boost this, and feel free to get in touch if you think I can help you with anything related to this.
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Ooooh girl I am here for Seb/Charles/Reader
Ok so like if you were with Seb first when they were at Ferrari and you both took care of baby Charlie. And everyone is like "aww they're like his mom and dad" but Charles is like "please god I want them to cherish me forever in the most romantic way"
And it shifts when Seb goes to Aston Martin. Like, you're all seeking each other out purposefully to spend time together more and more. And slowly you and Seb are like "...oh. oh no. We love him so much. And he might love us too?" Because you both always had a little crush on him but thought it would go away
And then being together and Seb worships both his loves and Charles is so soft and lowkey obsessed (in a healthy way)
A/N: Through the years
Charles meeting you for the first time driving for Alfa:
"Hi, I'm Y/n," Charles blushes, seeing the pretty older woman before him as Sebastian stands behind you talking to Kimi. "Charles," He mumbles and shakes your hand. "So you're going to be Sebby's new teammate next year hm?" You move sitting down next to him and Charles moves over, as your knees knocked into each other.
"Yeah, seems like it," Charles blushes and notices the way that Kimi and Seb were watching you two. "Well I'm excited, Kimi has been a bore for a while," "Heard that," Kimi snarks but you just giggle and turn back to Charles. "If you ever need anything, you're more than welcome to come to Sebby's and I place in Maranello." Charles sinks into his seat and nods his head loving the attention you're giving him.
Charles First Season:
Charles noticed you and runs up behind you and hugs you tightly. "Y/n!" You giggle and place your hands over his, patting his hands. "Hi my baby," Charles smiles sweetly at the nickname as you turn around in his arms and pull him closer. "Ah, have you eaten?" Sebastian pops up beside Charles ruffling his hair.
"Yeah, had toast and some eggs." You smile glad to hear that he had eaten something as you knew Charles was always nervous since joining Ferrari. "They act like his parents," One of the engineers whispers in passing. You giggle at the comment but Charles shys away, but Sebastian doesn't let him.
His arm was wrapped around Charles waist and you knew the boy wasn't going to move away from Sebastian. Charles couldn't help that this would never leave, he wanted both of you more than he knew.
Charles winning Monza:
Sebastian couldn't even care that he DNFed all he wanted to do was to pull Charles into a huge hug and tell the younger driver how well he did. "Charles!" You scream, dragging Sebastian as you see the champagne soaked Ferrari driver turn around dropping the bottle and trophy.
"I WON!' "You won!" You both shouted, Sebastian let you hug the boy, but he gently pried you two apart and hugged Charles close, hand on his waist and the other on the back of his neck before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'm so fucking proud of you," He whispers and you get distracted by friends but kept a close eye on the way Charles and Sebastian were wrapped around each other.
Sebastian leaving Ferrari:
"You're really leaving?" Charles sniffled standing at the front door of your and Sebastian's apartment in Monaco. "Charl," Sebastian reached out but Charles just stepped back, slapping his hand down. "Am I not good enough?" Charles barked, you sit up in bed wondering who could possibly be here so late at night.
"Charles, I'm not leaving because of you," Sebastian begs, reaching for the boy again but he refuses to let Sebastian touch him. "I wouldn't blame you, you probably hate me," Charles cried, wiping his tears. "Charles? Baby what's wrong?" You peak around your husbands back and Charles just breaks seeing you. "Don't leave me," Charles sobs and moves collapsing into your arms.
Seb doesn't think twice and moves hugging you both and dropping to the floor. "We're not leaving you baby bot, I promise." Sebastian whispers.
Aston Martin:
You sighed heavily sitting in the Aston Martin garage, wanting nothing more than to walk over to Ferrari and cuddle up to Charles. It was early before the race and you knew the drivers would all be resting. You just wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms. "What are you doing?" Sebastian whispered, looking up from his phone where he lie.
"I can't get comfortable, I just want Charles with us," You pout hating not having him next to you. Sebastian smiles at you, moving his hand through your hair and squeezes your neck. "I know, I'm used to him sleeping on my lap and now he's not here. It's weird," He mumbles and you smile at how adorable the two always looked.
They would tend to fall asleep on each other and then rest their heads in your lap, but now Charles wasn't allowed to see you often as Ferrari and Seb didn't leave on good terms. "Screw this, I'm going to find Charles," Sebastian grumbles, standing up.
"Sebby, our feelings aren't going to change are they?" You whisper the question which has your husband freezing. "No," He sighs and throws his body back into the seat and drops his head. "We need to tell him," You whisper which has Seb nodding his head in agreement.
A knock at the door has you and Sebastian sharing a look wondering who that could be. Standing, your husband answers the door. "Sebby," A flash of red fills both your views as a body collides into Sebastian. Chuckling at the familiar weight in his arms, Seb takes steps back until they're on the couch.
Charles doesn't hesitate and crawls onto Sebastian lap and looks over at you, reaching his hand out for you to join. Moving over Charles wraps his arm around you and sighs, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. "I don't like you two not being there," He whispers, even if he liked Carlos he wasn't you or Sebastian.
"We're not going anywhere," You whisper, and some how Sebastian understood what you meant.
Dating:
"Charles," You sigh hearing the familiar sound of a camera click as Sebastian zipped up your dress. You both turn and see your giddy boyfriend dressed in a nice suit and holding his phone. "What? You two look very....very good," He mumbles and you see a tint of red on his cheeks and eyes zone out.
"Charlie," You call which has him snapping back and he blinks away whatever he was thinking. "Can we skip? Really can we?" He asks, licking his lips as you add the earrings, Charles coming up behind you and giving you a hug, kissing your shoulder.
"No really? Can we skip, cause I'd rather just stay in bed and maybe," "Charles, this is an important event, and we're going." Sebastian pulls him off, giving him a quick kiss on the lips which has Charles chasing him. "Hmph, please just want to stay in bed with you two." He mumbles but you chuckle and turn around.
"How about, if you're good for us, we'll let you do that thing," You offer, Charles head whips around and face lighting up and he opens his mouth but Sebastian covers it with his hand. "No, I'm serious Charles, behave." Charles swallows and nods his head and you move fixing his tie before patting it down.
"Alright, let's go." You whisper, feeling the tension grow between you three. Maybe going tonight wasn't going to wise.
#formula 1#f1#f1 fandom#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff#f1 angst#f1 blurb#f1 oneshot#f1 one shot#f1 x you#f1 fic#charles leclerc#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel angst#sebastian vettel fluff#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel blurb#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic
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let's just drive (charles leclerc x reader)
inspired by a request from an anon: would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging?
a/n: i took the liberty of making her scared she'll crash, i hope that's okay. i just feel like it fit the prompt better (+ there's something that I don't like about this but idky- so my sincere apologies if you also feel it)
“Here you go,” Charles says, casually dropping the keys in your hand before giving your cheek a kiss. You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice the way all your blood has drained out of your face, or if he’s choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t mention it. Instead he circles around the car to go into the passenger seat.
He fumbles a bit with the door before closing it, having to awkwardly reach over with his left arm to pull the seat belt from the right. He struggles over the cast that’s wrapped around his arm, and for a second you feel sorry for him, but all of this goes away the moment he looks over at you expectantly.
“Come on,” He says. You notice the smile he attempts to fight back, the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks away. So he did notice I look nervous, you think to yourself. Dickhead.
Passenger princess. That is what all your friends had decided to call you once you had started dating your boyfriend. It had been an off-handed joke at first, one that was pegged because of your boyfriend’s career, but here you were almost two years into your relationship and the nickname had stuck.
Over the last two years you found yourself behind the wheel less and less, whilst finding more and more comfort in riding shotgun. It’s not that you hated driving, far from that, but he just loved it, offering to take you wherever you needed to go.
That is exactly why the sight of his 488 Pista is making you feel sick, extremely sick.
Regardless of your nerves, you somehow find yourself in the driver’s seat, pulling the seat forward to adjust for your own height. Somehow the car feels even scarier from the inside and you wonder whether calling an uber could be a choice.
“Did you really have to break your arm this week?” You ask as you turn the key. Of course you’re joking, well kind of. You just didn’t understand why you were the one who had to drive. The car roars as soon as the engine is on, and you try not to think how much power it actually has. You can feel your boyfriend’s eyes on you, amused by your whole ordeal.
Your hands are clammy as you hold the steering wheel, looking into the wing mirror. You’re about to change gears, eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. Reverse, I can do it, you think. There’s a small second of silence right when you’re about to step on the clutch and you can practically feel Charles’ eyes burning into you.
The car reverses, only for a moment before it rocks back forward. You instantly wince, raising your shoulders to your face to wait for the impact that never comes. You hear a snicker from next to you and you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.
“You cannot be staring at me like that!” You say, cheeks flushed red, looking at him. Charles only continues to look at you, a smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches over to hold your arm, thumb slowly rubbing at your skin. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.
“You’re acting like you don’t drive when I’m off racing.” Charles laughs in between his words, letting out a soft wheeze.
“Yeah- I drive my car. Not a ferrari.” You murmur, trying your best to let the heat leave your cheeks.
“You’re not going to crash it you know?”
“But what if I do?” Your question comes out high pitched and whiny, a stark contrast to how relaxed and laid back Charles seemed. He sucks a sharp breath between his teeth before letting it out with a shake of his head and a smile on his lips.
“First off all- you won’t,” He says as he reaches to turn off the car before reaching for your hand. “And second of all, so what if you do?” Charles asks, snorting at the shocked expression you give him.
“I’m sorry- are we forgetting how much your car costs?” You try to pull your hand away, wanting to prove your point about how stressed you actually are. He doesn’t let you though, only giving your clammy hand a squeeze.
“Actually, I don’t know how much it costs,” Charles says matter-of-factly. You can only groan, because of course Charles Leclerc does not know how much his Ferrari costs.
“Over two hundred thousand euros Charles.” His brow raises slightly, showing slight surprise and you’re a bit relieved by it, hoping that it would be enough for the idea of you driving to stray away. It doesn’t seem to work in your favor though.
“Wait- did you google how much my car costs before this?”
“How could I not?” Charles is back to laughing again, shaking his head in amusement. =
“Amour, it is going to be okay,” Charles promises. “I trust you.” His words are enough to get your shoulders to relax a bit, and for you to take a deep breath.
“But you love your car so much- what if anything happens?” You watch the way he brings your hand to his face, leaning down to pepper kisses into your knuckles. It helps in relaxing you, allowing you to let out a soft breath.
“Come on now, I love my car, but- I love you more.” He smiles at you as he gently puts your hand back down, but you don’t give in, only continuing to look at him with your lips pulled down into a pout. “If you crash it- which I am not saying you will, I won’t be mad. I’m the one that asked you to drive it,” Your silence fills the car and he squeezes your hand again to catch your attention. “Hm?”
“Are you sure?” You ask and Charles only laughs, rolling his eyes before pecking your lips.
“I,” he says before giving you another kiss, “promise that,” and another, “I love you” and another, “more than my stupid car” he finishes, sealing the promise with one last kiss. He takes his time with this one, enjoying the way your lips had curved up into a small smile. Bingo.
“Now will you drive?” He claims victory when you nod in response, pulling away to lean back onto his seat. There’s a moment of silence as your fingers shadow to start the car, but another thought enters your mind.
“Can I have one more kiss?” He knows you’re stalling, and at this point you’ll both be more than twenty minutes late, but he smiles anyways.
“Of course,” He answers, coming closer again. Who’s to blame him though, he did love you most.
#charles leclerc#charles x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#drabble#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader
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friendship bracelets ~ oscar piastri
instagram au
synopsis: Oscar’s girlfriend takes over the paddock and the hearts of fans with her love for friendship bracelets.
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 2,385,284 others
📍Melbourne, Australia
y/n.insta who's ready for the Aussie GP????
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oscarpiastri i am !! 🧡🧡
y/n.insta baby you're racing, that doesn't count
oscarpiastri oh...
y/n.insta it's fine, you're too precious 🥹🥹🧡
user1 MOTHER AT THE GP ALERT ❗❗❗❗❗
user2 WE'RE GOING TO GET BRACELET OMGGGGG
user3 i live for Y/N's bracelets
francisca.cgomes are you bringing your bracelets?
y/n.insta of course i am
user3 we live for the bracelets
lewishamilton do you have my bracelet?
y/n.insta packed and ready !!
oscarpiastri why are you giving Lewis bracelets? 🤔
y/n.insta i gotta keep my customers happy
oscarpiastri you make money from this?
y/n.insta i do
oscarpiastri wanna make it a legit business?
y/n.insta let's do it
user4 did we just get confirmation that Y/N's starting a bracelet business?
user5 i think we did 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢
user4 this is the best day of my life 😭😭😭
lilymhe i want one 🥹
y/n.insta of course babe !! 🥹
liked by francisca.cgomes, oscarpiastri and 2,485,273 others
y/n.insta watching my man do what he does best !!
view all 282,475 comments
oscarpiastri my lucky charm
y/n.insta i love you 🧡
user1 respectfully, don't you get bored during races?
y/n.insta to be honest, depends on the race. there really isn't that much going during the race itself, but i keep entertained by interacting with the fans around
user2 she is so precious for making time for fans
user1 omg y/n actually replied to me 😭😭😭😭
landonorris i barely see him when you're around
y/n.insta i'm more entertaining than you are 🤭
landonorris i need to spend time with him too
y/n.insta sucks to be you then
user3 not y/n and lando bickering like siblings
user4 are you from Aus as well?
y/n.insta i am !! mine and Oscar's parents were good friends growing up, we actually lived relatively close to each other
user5 the fact that Y/N actually makes time to respond to comments, make friendship bracelets for fans and talks to them during races just goes to show why she's the best WAG
user2 this is true, she's such a sweetheart and so down-to-earth, she definitely got used to being in the spotlight with Oscar
user5 and she really hasn't changed at all, the fame hasn't changed her at all as far as we can tell
user1 she's perfect for Oscar, she seems so extroverted and bring out his more sociable side
user3 the extrovert to his introvert 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
liked by y/n.insta, landonorris and 4,597,278 others
📍Melbourne, Australia
oscarpiastri PODIUM IN MY HOME RACE!!!! I can't believe we did it!!!! A massive thank you to the team, all the engineers who made this possible, the massive support the fans have showed me the entire weekend, but let's be honest that might be because of Y/N.
Y/N, I can't even begin to describe how much you being here with me means. You're always there for me, cheering me on and making sure I am doing okay. Your support means everything to me and I am so thankful I made you proud today. I love you 🧡
tagged: y/n.insta
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y/n.insta i am proud of you beyond words, oz🧡 you make me the proudest girlfriend in the whole world and i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. i love you forever, my love 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri i am so grateful for you 🧡
landonorris proud of you, little aussie. you two are disgusting, by the way
oscarpiastri thanks mate 🙏🏻
y/n.insta says the single guy
landonorris no need to attack me like that…
oscarpiastri sucks to be you, Lando
logansargeant congrats mate!
oscarpiastri thanks 🙏🏻
yourmother we're proud of you, Oscar!! thank you for being you and taking care of our little girl! we love you!!!
oscarpiastri i love you all too!! can't wait to see you!!
y/n.insta we love you too, mum!!!!
user1 Oscar with Y/N's mother I'M SOBBING 😭😭😭😭😭
user2 WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU OSCAAAAAAAAR
user3 i just know he drove so well because it's Australia and it's home for both him and Y/N
alex_albon good job, aussie
oscarpiastri thank youu
mclaren great job, Oscar! Papaya for the win!🧡
liked by y/n.insta and oscarpiastri
yoursister i've never heard y/n.insta scream so loudly in my life
y/n.insta why are you exposing me?
oscarpiastri don't worry babe, i think it's cute
y/n.insta i love you 🥹
yoursister ugh, why are you guys always like this
y/n.insta we're in love, leave us alone
user4 i need what they have
user5 i'm gonna go jump off a building now
liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 2,385,274 others
y/n.insta there are not enough words to convey just how proud I am of you and everything you're doing. your dedication is unlike anything I've seen before, your commitment and passion runs through your veins and pulsates every single moment. I love you, I am proud of you and I cannot wait for what the future holds for you. you're destined for great things, my love, and I will be there with you every step of the way. papaya for the win ! 🧡
tagged: oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri my life would mean nothing without you by my side. i love you beyond words 🧡
y/n.insta 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
landonorris why are you like this
y/n.insta i'm in love, something i'm sure is not all too familiar to you right now
landonorris you always have to bring that up, huh?
y/n.insta you attack, i attack back
oscarpiastri she's right
landonorris whose side are you on ????????
oscarpiastri hers
landonorris wow...the betrayal
user1 not Lando being unhinged in the comments hahahah
user2 they are so in love omg 🥹🥹🥹
user3 i need what they have🥹
lilymhe the love you two share is the purest thing ever
y/n.insta you're too sweet, lily 🥹
user4 i hate my life more than ever after reading this post
user4 why do i do this to myself
yourmother seeing you two warms my heart
y/n.insta we can't wait to see you tonight!!
oscarpiastri i'm looking forward to breaking all rules and eating your delicious meals
yourmother you deserve it!!
user5 i am in love with them
user6 her support of him makes me wanna crawl into a hole and die, she's so precious
landonorris why don't you support me like that too? i'm his big brother
y/n.insta i do
oscarpiastri she's only allowed to support me
y/n.insta don't listen to him
logansargeant you guys are so sweet, congrats mate !!
oscarpiastri thanks mate!
y/n.insta thanks logan 🥹
user7 i need what they have
user8 brb, gonna jump off a cliff real quick
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NaNoWriMo fic, day one: obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.
Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.
This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.
Just a bank account, even.
"You're working for Cadmus," Tim says slowly. "Cadmus, as in the lab that stole Superman's body and cloned him without his consent. Cadmus, which you had to break out of so they couldn't put mind control code words in your head."
"Yeah," Superboy replies like that's not literally insane. Tim stares at him.
"Why?" he asks incredulously.
"Food and shelter?" Superboy shrugs. "And I mean, I dunno, where else am I gonna go?"
Tim is not okay with this situation.
"What did Superman say?" he says.
"Just to like, keep an eye on things," Superboy says with another shrug. "Make sure they're not up to anything shifty."
Tim stares at him.
"Superman," he says. "Told you to just . . . 'keep an eye on' the dubiously ethical cloning lab. The specific dubiously ethical cloning lab that tried to put mind control code words in your head. Specifically."
"Yeah," Superboy confirms.
Alright, Tim is actually even less okay with this situation than he thought, apparently. Like, impressively less.
"Okay," he says. It is absolutely no kind of okay in any way whatsoever, of course, but he doesn't want to put Superboy on the defensive. That'd make effectively interrogating him a lot harder, for one thing. Cooperative subjects are best in these situations. "What are they paying you?"
"I mean, like, they gave me my own room and they're feeding me and whatever, so I don't really need much money," Superboy says. "There's a discretionary fund I can use if I need to go on an undercover mission or anything like that? But I'm not really the undercover type anyway."
"Sure," Tim says. So . . . no way for Superboy to save up to move out and get an out-of-lab life, then. Great. That's not fucked-up or crazy or horrible at all. "Do you like it there?"
"It's okay," Superboy says, shrugging again. "Better than literally everybody in Hawaii yelling at me every time they see my face, yeah?"
Tim wants to set the world on fire, but he's trying really hard not to go supervillain before he's thirty and he'd hate to throw out all that hard work.
"They just let me do whatever, mostly," Superboy adds. "They don't really care as long as I'm around when they need me."
He'll go supervillain as soon as Bruce dies, Tim promises himself. Just–he'll give his share of the eulogy at the funeral and then he'll blow up three-fourths of Arkham and the entire GCPD while Commissioner Gordon is on his lunch break. He can time that out, that'll be easy. And then he'll go and personally murder the Joker with the very specific combination of a rusty crowbar and a shrapnel bomb, and then he'll just . . . well, he'll just go with the flow from there, he figures. Do whatever feels natural.
Seriously, the world as it is does not deserve to exist. It really just does not.
Tim figures he can probably convince the rest of Young Justice to tag along for the whole supervillain thing and hopefully Dick and Steph and Barbara too, and ideally also Alfred, in the unfortunately likely event that he outlives Bruce. He's got time to lay the groundwork with them all and all, and also everything really is awful and horrible and really does deserve to burn.
"Are they sending you to school or anything? Or tutoring you?" Tim asks with what little scraps of hope he has left. Higher education would be . . . well, something, at least. And actually it probably wouldn't hurt for Superboy to learn a bit more about genetic engineering from the same place he got genetically engineered, just in case anything goes wrong with his DNA again. Cadmus should at least be good for that much, right?
"Ew, no, thank fuck," Superboy says, making a face. "Like I said, they mostly let me do whatever until something needs punched."
So . . . no furthered education or learning any usable job skills or making real money or literally anything that could, again, lead to Superboy ever getting any kind of an actual out-of-lab life established.
Great.
Just great.
"I see," Tim says.
"It's a pretty sweet gig, considering," Superboy says, and grins brightly at him. It's a very nice grin. Normally being faced with that particular grin would make Tim need to beat down the highly unprofessional urge to kiss it.
Right now, though, he's a little bit more concerned with the fact that his teammate is just . . . living in and working for a fucking lab. As a matter of course. Just as a thing.
And Superman of all people thinks that's . . . fine, for some reason? Like, normal and ethical and okay? Somehow? In some way?
What the actual fuck, Tim thinks to himself.
"You said Superman told you to keep an eye on things?" he asks.
"Yeah," Superboy says, his grin widening. "He took me to his fortress and asked me to do it there. Showed me around a bit, too."
"That sounds really interesting," Tim says, wondering in vague disbelief if that means Superman had never taken Superboy to the Fortress of Solitude before. He must've, right? And just . . . inexplicably not shown Superboy around then.
Yeah. Sure.
"It was awesome!" Superboy says with more enthusiasm than Tim's seen from him since they met Nina Dowd's . . . endowments, seemingly forgetting the need to be "cool" for long enough to lean forward in his seat and outright beam at him. Tim is gonna need a minute to recover from the sight of that expression, probably. "It's seriously freaking freezing up there, but there's so much cool shit in the place. Like, from all over the universe, but from Krypton, even! The only thing I'd ever seen from Krypton before was kryptonite!"
Tim considers moving up his supervillain timeline after all. Like. Just possibly. Just a little.
Maybe he can convince Bruce to take an early retirement off-planet and just go from there.
What the hell is wrong with Superman?
"Oh, wow, really?" Tim says, simultaneously pretending he didn't already know what Superman has in his fortress and trying not to be screamingly obvious about the internal calculations he's running on figuring out how to weaponize red sunlight. Or like, maybe he could look into learning some magic. That's technically an option. Probably more time-consuming and harder to hide the process of, though. Still, it's on the table.
"Yeah. He showed me some of it. Told me some stories and stuff, even," Superboy says, and that excited grin turns just a little bit shy and soft and somehow even more distracting than usual. He ducks his head just a little, and then that soft grin is more like a soft smile, and Tim suffers. "And I, uh–and he gave me something, too."
"What did he give you?" Tim asks, praying to God that the answer is "an emergency contact number" or "an allowance that can cover a semi-decent Metropolis apartment" or "an offer to live literally anywhere but Cadmus, including in the thirtieth century or on a hostile alien planet or inside an active volcano". He's technically an atheist, so the praying thing is probably moot, but times of desperation are times of desperation.
"A name," Superboy says, and his smile widens helplessly. "Like, you know, a real one."
Tim might hate Superman, he thinks. That might actually be a thing now.
Yeah, he's definitely going supervillain after Bruce dies and doesn't need an emotional support sidekick anymore. Better start stocking up on the kryptonite.
"That's great," he says with a very carefully not-forced smile of his own instead of anything more along the lines of "wait, you've been alive and active as a superhero for all this time and no one ever actually named you?!" Superboy would probably take it the wrong way, not in the least because that genuinely never actually occurred to him as being a thing before. Like–he really did just assume Superboy was keeping a lid on whatever his real name was for personal reasons or Superman reasons or something. "Are you allowed to tell me it, or is that a no-go?"
"Oh, yeah," Superboy says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing at his arm. "It's like, a Kryptonian name? Not like a secret identity one. It's, uh, Kon-El."
Of course it's not even a damn secret identity, Tim thinks in absolute frustration and abject loathing. Of course not! Why would it be?! Fuck forbid!
"I like it," he says, because he lies to Batman and therefore there is no fucking way that he's going to let Superboy–Kon–see any sign whatsoever of the metaphorical 9.9 on the Richter scale that is currently happening in his psyche. "It suits you."
"You think?" Kon grins all the wider. Tim can't even calm down enough to want to kiss him, except in the sense that he always wants to kiss him.
"I do," he says, and smiles at him again.
Kon smiles back.
Tim hates everything. All the things. There is nothing that Tim doesn't hate right now, except maybe Alfred's snickerdoodles because he might be having a nervous breakdown but he's not, like, criminally insane or whatever.
Yet.
"Yeah, it's kinda cool," Kon says, straightening up in his seat and then leaning back, clearing his throat and slipping his sunglasses back on like they're not in a literal cave right now. Tim doesn't call him on it, because he has a supervillain timeline to work out and that's much more important.
Also because the teammate he has an inadvisable crush on is in a much, much shittier situation than he ever realized and he has to reconcile that with his worldview and also his opinion of Superman. Tim doesn't especially idolize the man except in the sense of knowing he's one of the greatest heroes on Earth and a very, very good man that Bruce thinks incredibly highly of, one of the best men on the League and maybe even on the planet, but . . .
But if he's such a good man, then why the hell is Kon living in a lab that tried to mind-control him and why has he only just seen the Fortress of Solitude for the first time?
Why didn't he have a real name?
"So do we call you Kon or Kon-El now?" Tim asks, which is a bit of a senseless question but also at least a bit of a distraction. He wants to say this whole situation is a horrible idea, who the FUCK convinced you this situation was a good idea?!, but there is no possible way that Kon would respond well to that. Ever.
Also, Kon had a point. Where else is he gonna go?
Clearly not the Fortress of Solitude.
Seriously, would it be that hard for Superman to give him a room there? At least a place to stay sometimes, so he wasn't exclusively relying on the mind-control cloning lab for food and shelter and basic comforts?
"I think just Kon?" Kon says, frowning consideringly. "'El' is like Superman's last name, I guess? So I think just Kon."
"Makes sense," Tim says, internally seething. Superman gave him the "El" name but not a secret identity? A name from a dead civilization with a bit of sentimental value, maybe, but nothing usable on this planet? Fuck, you'd think Kon didn't already know his secre–
. . . Kon doesn't know Superman's secret identity, does he.
Tim had thought he was lying, when he'd said that stuff about Superman not having one, before. Thought it was supposed to be a cover or a misdirection or something. But Kon actually thinks that, doesn't he. And Superman has just . . . kept letting him think that.
Becoming a supervillain actually might be an underreaction, in retrospect.
"Just Kon sounds less formal anyway," Tim says instead of so just in theory, do you think tactile telekinesis could trigger a heart attack or stroke in a full-blooded Kryptonian, if you could REALLY concentrate on doing it? like not FATALLY, just dehabilitatingly?, because he still has some groundwork to do before they get that far into potential supervillainy. There's steps to the plan. The steps need to be followed. They're very important steps. "You don't want Bart full-naming you every time he's looking for the remote."
"Like he'd even bother, it's faster for him to turn the living room upside-down than actually ask anyway," Kon says with a laugh, dropping his head back on his neck. Tim has some thoughts about climbing into his lap and figuring out if the TTK makes him hickey-proof, and then buries them. Not appropriate. Not professional. Just not.
. . . technically, if Kon wanted a hickey, he could just let his TTK down and ask for–
Tim buries his thoughts deeper.
Much, much deeper.
"Point," he says. "So what time does Cadmus expect you back?"
"Dude, it's a job, not a boarding school," Kon says, giving him an amused look. "I don't have a curfew."
Tim, technically, hasn't followed his own curfew any way but accidentally once in his entire life, but for god's sake, is Cadmus even pretending to be raising a teenager or are they really just being that flagrant about ignoring all the child labor laws they so clearly do not give a fuck about? Like, there must be something illegal about this. There has to be.
If there's not, Tim will be adding "burn down Project Cadmus" to his list of supervillain plans to set up in advance. In red pen. Underlined.
Twice.
God, why is the world like this. Why are people like this?
"I guess that'd be convenient," Tim says, internally ranking various methods of combustion. "Though I guess it depends on the cafeteria hours, too."
"It's whatever, I can always eat later," Kon replies with a shrug. "I think I've still got a couple protein bars in my room anyway."
"Just protein bars?" Tim asks, mentally upping the amount of explosives he was considering going with. Cadmus is going to be a crater by the time he's done with it. "Don't you need more calories than that?"
". . . well, sort of," Kon says, folding his arms and looking very briefly embarrassed. "Superman doesn't have to eat, apparently, but, uh, guess I'm not Kryptonian enough for that. Actually I kinda need to eat more than normal humans, it's weird. Like. A lot more."
"I'm ordering pizza," Tim says, upping his mental explosives count again. "What do you want on it?"
"We're the only ones here," Kon says, looking puzzled.
"More pizza for us, then," Tim says.
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#conner kent#dc robin#superboy#young just us#young justice#long post#rinfic#wip: obligatory sugar baby Kon
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you are in love- oneshot
a/n: hi pals how r we doing today... my rent is due (metaphorically) inspo from mother's song
masterlist
-> charles leclerc x childhoodbestfriendfemale!reader (no physical description)
warnings: small teensy tiny age gap (like two years), probs some cursing, google translated french.... not proofread :(
word count: 1283 words
He can't remember the first time he met you.
Not exactly. He does know how it happens, though, as his mother constantly likes to constantly remind him.
"You were two," Pascale muses, cutting into the pancakes she was having for breakfast.
"Maman." Charles pleads with a tinge of exasperation in his voice, having heard this story so many times.
"Charles, don't interrupt me." she shoots him playful glare as Arthur smiles behind his cup of coffee that he's sipping. It's quite obvious that he finds this entire debacle quite entertaining.
"Yes Charles," Arthur nods in mocking agreement, "I quite like this story, maman." He shoots Charles a cunning smirk as the dimples in his cheeks begin to pop out.
"Yes, as I was saying," Pascale takes a moment to gather her thoughts, "Charlie, you were only 2... but you were so gentle with her..."
Pascale goes on and on, fawning about how he was so gentle with the little baby girl, the newborn baby of his godmother, and one of his mother's dearest friends. Your name felt foreign on his tongue when he was first introduced to it, like a new word added into his little dictionary, but it was a name that he would come to know, recognise, and even love.
"Maman, I'm leaving!" Charles announces to the house after breakfast, grabbing his car keys.
"Going to see Y/N?" Pascale playfully teases.
Charles smiles so hard at the thought of you that his dimples began to crease in his cheeks. "You know it."
He drives to your flat in mostly silence, besides the roar of the Ferrari's engine, and the dreadful drone of the radio hosts over the car's stereo. Traffic is slow and congested, which should be frustrating for someone who drives at over 300 km/h on a near weekly basis, but the reward at the end of the road (which happens to be you) makes it all the more worth it.
People seem to be suspicious of your relationship, though. But it's nothng more than what it is, a purely platonic bond between two childhood, contrary to what gossip accounts or news articles say. Some of his friends don't believe him either.
Carlos simply gives him an unbelieliving smile and quirks an eyebrow, but puts the matter to rest when Charles expresses his annoyance with a roll of his viridescent eyes.
Joris constantly bugs him about it. Taunts of: "Are you sure you don't like her Charlie?", "Charlie... are you texting her?" and "Charles, fess up! Just tell me the truth, you like her!"
Frankly, he's sick and tired of it. Even if he did like you, so what? Was that really anyone's business, either way?
Nevertheless, any ounce of anger he was harbouring simply dissipates into nothingness when he sees you.
You grace him with a beautiful smile when you enter his car. You greet him with kisses on his cheek and a warm hug. Through all these years, he swears that the thing he looks most forward to when he sees you is your hugs.
They're warm, like walking into a bakery with freshly baked pastries. They make him happy like a Grand Prix win.
The two of you aimlessly drive around until it was time for dinner. He brings you to his favourite pizza place, and the two of you split a pepperoni pizza.
"Don't tell my trainer about this." Charles makes you promise with a boyish smile.
"I promise." You let out a chuckle at the trivial situation at hand. Within your company, the two of you don't really need to talk a lot. Wordlessly, after knowing each other for so long, the silence says enough by itself, and is enough to make the both of you comfortable. After finishing dinner, you follow him back to his apartment. He insists for you to stay over for the night, and you don't debate it.
"Here," Charles mindlessly passes you a shirt that he no longer wears, "for you to sleep in." he clarifies. You make a noncomittal sound and give him a brief nod in response.
After you've showered, you put on his shirt, and the first thing you notice is how it smells like him. His laundry, his cologne, his shampoo... You're a little overwhelmed, but in a good way.
"You're not getting this shirt back." you warn him as you come out of the shower.
"Fine by me." He laughs, passing by you as he enters the bathroom.
You make yourself comfortable in his bed. You slip under the blanket, which encompasses you in a warmth which couldn't possibly be recreated at your own house.
It's funny how you still feel more at home at Charles' apartment than your own.
You're still in his bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media, when he comes out of the shower. "Okay, what're we watching?" he asks as he makes himself at home on the opposite side of the bed. The two of you mutually decided on watching Cars for the billionth time. Yet, from your peripheral vision, you notice him looking at you with a foreign expression. You fake a yawn, and turn off the TV.
"Good night, Charlie."
"Good night, Y/N."
He switches off the lights in his bedroom, and you make yourself comfortable.
"Y/N?"
"Yes Charlie?"
"You're my best friend." The statement makes you smile, and you fall asleep with a wide grin on your face.
The next morning, you wake up, and you're somehow entangled with Charles. Your legs are intertwined, his arms are carressing your waist, and your face is burried in his neck. You simply wiggle into his touch, and it makes him stir.
"Good morning." He whispers, voice raspy from sleep.
"Morning." You chastely reply, voice muffled from speaking into his neck.
Much to your dismay, he untangles himself from the mess of cuddles and bedsheets. He leaves the bedroom, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead as you fall back into the lull of sleep.
You wake up to the scent of something burning. The charred scent lingers in the air, presumably from the kitchen, so that's where you go.
"Mon coeur," my heart he croons, sheepish expression on his face, "I'm sorry. I was trying to make breakfast." He helplessly gestures at the burnt toast, which was now in the bin.
You give him a laugh. It makes his cheeks flush. He wishes that he could bottle up your laugh, keep it in a safe, and just listen to it whenever he pleased. He swears that your laugh is more beautiful than the melody of Clair de Lune, or the roar of the Tifosi during a Monza win.
"Come dance with me." Charles gives you a silly smile.
"What?" You respond, furrowed eyebrows emphasising your perplextion.
"C'mon!" He urges, putting classical music record onto the vinyl player.
Just then, as the two of you are dancing in his living room bright and early in the morning, he knows that he's in love with you.
He knows when you're dancing and you're smiling and you're laughing and Charles could swear that you're the most perfect thing to ever exist.
You commit the most heinous of crimes and he swears that he could defend you to the Earth and back.
He holds you in his arms, and he kisses you.
It takes you aback, just for a moment.
Then again, his lips feel perfect against yours. It's like they were made for you.
Then your lips part, and he rests his forehead against yours.
He chuckles, and he speaks against your lips, "You're mine, yeah?"
You nod, "I've always been yours."
"Damn it, I owe Joris 50 Euros." He laughs.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#cl16#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: scout, engineer, heavy, medic, sniper, and spy (i forgot demo i'm so sorry)
↳ warnings: bad translations, slight mentions of world war two and malpractice
↳ song: with a little help from my friends—joe cocker
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭
• He would be so smug about it
• Puffing his chest out and everything
• His friends in the past- and even family members -have teased him for mispronouncing words or speaking too fast, and it’s made him a bit self conscious about the way he talks. But after hearing that you find it endearing, its a giant ego boost for him
• “Yeah dat’s right! Who’s awesome? I’m awesome!” Scout smiles as he flexes his arms in your face, subjecting you to what he likes to call a surprise gun show. You pretend to hate it as you shove his arm away, but chuckle all the same
• He’s already gloated before that he already knew his accent was the best. Boston is the greatest place in the world after all! But hearing it from you really just sent him over the moon
• Makes a point to talk to you a lot more now; as if he didn’t already
• “Yo! Hey did you see that kill out there? I totally messed dat Spy up! One wrong step and pow! He’s dead meat!”
• “I saw Scout. I was covering your flank while you did it, remember?”
• “Yeah yeah, but I just thought you’d like ta hear about it again.”
𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫
• Didn’t consider himself to have an accent until you pointed him out
• Sure, he says the occasional y’all and ain’t, but not enough to qualify as a whole different way of speaking
• It wasn’t until he dropped a hammer on his foot and cursed that he understood what you’d meant
• “What in the sam hill! Sweet hell!” He’d exclaimed, startled. Once the throbbing in his leg had subsided, Engineer replayed his words in his head, making a slight o with his mouth as he realized you were probably right. To some extent at least
• He was a born and raised Texas boy, so it makes sense that the culture rubbed off
• Doesn’t understand at first that you find it nice. Maybe he thought you pointed it out just because you could? He’s a bit distracted when it comes to anything but machinery, so he misses context sometimes
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲
• Surprised that someone like you who can speak English fluently finds his mannerisms attractive
• Gets frustrated sometimes when he can’t remember certain words in English. Heavy is a very smart man, so it aggravates him when he looks illiterate in front of his team
• That’s why hearing that you like his mother tongue caught him by surprise
• “But you don’t know any Russian?” He’d rumbled out as a question. When you shook your head no, still sporting a smile, his eyebrows furrowed further
• “Nah. But I like hearing it when it comes from you. It sounds more natural. Like you’re more comfortable than normal, you know?”
• You’re technically right. When Heavy slips into Russian, often whilst talking to Sasha or simply forgetting that not everyone on the team know how to speak it, he is more comfortable in his words. They flow better, and he’s flattered that you’ve noticed
• One hundred percent offers to teach you Russian in his spare time. He finds it slightly adorable how you stumble over words in your broken translations, but always manages to softly correct you
• He’s a really good teacher
𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜
• Positively thrilled that you like his voice
• When you tell him for the first time, he goes into shock for a moment before breaking out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Somehow its a perfect balance between excited and malicious
• “Do you hear zhat Archemedies? Mein freund here enjoys my accent!” He cooes at his bird, chuckling in a way that would make anyone’s insides squirm
• Once you look past Medic’s initially devious reaction, it’s very clear he enjoys knowing this
• If anything, the ex-doctor would have thought that you’d enjoy the more stereotypically romantic sounding languages. Spanish, Latin, etc
• German has always been considered harsh or scary sounding, and it turned a lot of people away from hiring him after the events of World War Two, which he understood. Still, Medic finds himself absolutely tickled that you are drawn to his accent
• Finds himself slipping more and more into German while doing checkups on you now. When he catches himself, he translates most of what’s he’s said back to you. But sometimes he’ll simply forget, and it leaves you wondering if he’s offered you a glass of water or the opportunity to swap your bladder out
• You sincerely hoped it was the former
𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫
• Oh my god you killed him
• Sniper is very reserved. Living in his camper, hunting his own game for dinner instead of joining the others, literally pissing in jars, etc etc
• Being a man of few words comes part and parcel with that; which normally works out just find because Scout talks enough for ten people
• Hasn’t said much to you before. He mostly communicates in head nods or slight tilts of his coffee mug in your direction. Maybe a few ‘good mornin’s’ tossed around, but nothing more than that
• “You know, you should talk more.” You’d said to him one day while pouring a fresh pot of tea you had just boiled into your own mug. He preferred black coffee himself, but whatever floats your boat
• “You voice.” You elaborated after a sip. You must have noticed his confused look as you carried on. “It’s nice. Can’t imagine that you don’t have gals throwing themselves at you all the time because of it.”
• Suddenly very grateful he wasn’t drinking any of his brew at the time, because what you said surely would have made him choked
• He, in fact, had had a few ladies approach him in town before saying something along the same lines. Even a few fellas. But nothing made him blanch this strongly like you had
• Excuses himself as he walks out of the room suddenly, tilting his hat down to cover his face no one can see the furious red tint forming
• Sniper leaves you in the communal kitchen. Holding a steaming cup of liquid and looking very confused
𝐒𝐩𝐲
• Already knew before you told him
• To anyone else, it would have been passible as just curiosity. But Spy’s job is to know things, and it is an undeniable fact that you found his voice attractive
• Doesn’t utilize this weapon often. You are not a weak willed person swayed by just a few words, so when he needs something he pulls out all the stops
• Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being impressed when you eventually admit your little not-so-secret-secret to him. And of your own free will. He didn’t have to pry it out of you, which was a feat on its own
• Much like Heavy, he extends the offer of teaching you how to learn his language. Now that he no longer has this knowledge as a bargaining chip, he might as well seize the opportunity to teach you a proper language
• Considers using electroshock therapy to condition you faster, but nixes it pretty quick
• Again, like Heavy, he finds it cute how horrible you are at French. More amused than anything, but he can appreciate the way you practice verbs in your free time even when he isn’t leaning over your shoulder
• That you know of, that is
• Praises you often in french, letting excited phrases slip when you nail a particularly hard set of words
• “Merveilleux ! Tu t’améliores beaucoup, ma petite. Encore une fois.”
• While you don’t understand the full extent to his words, you smile and continue on, eventually realizing what he had said later in a fit of embarrassment
#tf2#tf2 x reader#tf2 x you#tf2 x y/n#scout x reader#scout x you#scout x y/n#engineer#engineer x reader#engineer x you#engineer x y/n#heavy#heavy x reader#heavy x you#heavy x y/n#medic#medic x you#medic x y/n#medic x reader#sniper#sniper x reader#sniper x y/n#sniper x you#spy#spy x reader#spy x you#spy x y/n#x reader#headcanons
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