#Starting with my 3 faves from this set | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dakusan · 2 months ago

Text

N O S A I N T I N K

Tattoo Artist!Han Jisung x Reader | He tattoos like an artist and eats like a god. You're ruined. Congratulations.

🔞synopsis: Tattoo Artist AU. You just wanted a tattoo. What you got was a cocky artist with a praise kink, a filthy mouth, and the ability to make you cum so hard you forget your name. What starts as innocent skin-on-skin becomes texts at 3AM, breathless calls, panties on the floor, and getting ruined over a tattoo chair by a man who calls his dick “emotionally supportive.”

💌a/n: HELLO DEMONS. welcome back to my sin bin. and YES. i spun the wheel of filth™ again because i have too many prompts, too many requests, too many ideas and i am ONE feral braincell away from combusting. this week’s winner of the roulette: jisung x reader, tattoo shop edition. hence why this was posted late — i had no idea what to write and then accidentally birthed a full plotline, two orgasms, a man with separation anxiety, and the best dick of your fictional life. oops 😇 p.s. reblog this or i will haunt your mirrors at 3AM whispering “dumb little slut” in han’s voice. p.p.s. if you message me your fave skz member, i might drop you a mini filthy tattoo artist!AU ficlet just for them. no promises. only threats. p.p.p.s. light a candle. hydrate. send this to a friend

📌 Please read responsibly. Hydrate. Stretch.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

🎧 » MOVE — Taemin « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:32 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Late afternoon, Seoul.

The sky is bruising purple with evening haze. You’re standing outside a tattoo parlour in a tucked-away alley—NO SAINT INK—recommended by a friend who said, “Go there. Ask for Han.”

You’re nervous. Not just because it’s your first tattoo—but because your stomach won’t stop twisting with that type of anticipation. The kind you feel when you know something irreversible is about to happen.

The parlour looks nothing like the industrial, hyper-masculine shops you've passed before. It’s dark, yes—but with soft underlighting. Neon signs buzz low in the windows, one glowing "SINNER'S HANDS" in deep red. Another in cursive:

“we only leave beautiful scars.”

You push the door open, bell jingling. It smells like antiseptic and incense. Lo-fi hip hop pulses from hidden speakers. The walls are matte black, scattered with flash art—some delicate, some obscene. A few erotic, one absolutely feral. You step toward the desk—

And then you see him.

Han Jisung.

Slouched in a leather chair behind the counter, legs spread wide, one hand holding a sketchpad, the other spinning a tattoo gun idly between his fingers like a toy.

Dark, slightly wavy hair. A few strands falling into his eyes. Rings on nearly every finger. One silver bar in his eyebrow. Another glinting on his lip.

He's wearing a sleeveless hoodie, arms covered in ink—some intricate, some scrawled like afterthoughts. His forearms flex as he shifts, glancing up at you lazily, and then—

Freeze.

He smirks. Not the kind of smirk you’re used to. This one slides slow across his face like silk on skin—cocky, amused, interested. He sets the sketchbook down and stands, sauntering over.

“You lost, angel?”

His voice is warm gravel. A little teasing. He’s already clocked you as a first-timer.

You swallow. “No. Um… I think I have an appointment? For 5PM?”

He leans against the counter, gloved hand flipping through the schedule.

“Name?”

You give it. He taps the page. “First ink?” he asks, gaze flicking over you.

You nod.

His eyes drag down your form and back up again—like he’s marking you before the needle ever touches you. “Cute.”

A pause.

“Alright. You’re with me.”

The moment he leads you past the curtain, everything quiets. Not literally—there’s still the low thrum of lo-fi beats playing through overhead speakers, and you can hear the soft buzz of a machine in the next booth—but something in the air shifts. You’ve stepped into his space now.

The room is dim, intentionally so. Not cold or sterile, but intimate. The walls are painted a charcoal grey, with scattered framed sketches and flash art displayed like gallery pieces. A small desk against the back wall is cluttered with ink bottles, gloves, stencils, and scribbled notes on napkins. There’s a chair in the center—sleek black leather, mechanical levers gleaming faintly under the spotlight aimed above it. It's positioned deliberately beneath a halo of warm light, like a stage for sin.

Han gestures for you to sit.

You do, heart already hammering harder than you'd like to admit. Your hands grip the armrests automatically, more out of nerves than necessity.

He sanitizes his hands in silence, then slips on a pair of black nitrile gloves with practiced ease. The snap of the first one makes you flinch. He notices.

A flick of his mouth—half amusement, half something darker.

“So. You still sure about it?” he asks, voice calm but low, like smoke over velvet.

You nod, holding out the reference image you brought—a small, simple design. Meaningful. Something you’ve thought about for months. A delicate poppy, petals slightly unfurled…But at the base of the flower, instead of a regular stem, it grows from the open mouth of a tiny anatomical heart.

Han doesn’t look at the paper right away. His eyes stay on you for just a moment longer than they should. Then he takes it gently, fingers brushing yours through the gloves.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, gaze flicking from the paper to your face. “Subtle. Clean lines… this’ll look good on you.”

You try to smile, but your throat feels tight. “Thanks.”

“Where do you want it?”

You hesitate. Then, softly: “Ribcage.”

That earns you an arched brow and the barest flicker of a smirk.

“Shy spot. I like that,” he says, turning to prep his materials. You watch the muscles shift as he reaches for a stencil pad. “Okay, shirt off. Just what you need, nothing more. I won’t bite.”

You freeze.

He pauses for a beat. Then tilts his head, eyes crinkling slightly. “Unless you beg,” he adds with a wink.

Your cheeks go hot. You laugh—nervously. It feels like your skin is already burning.

You carefully lift your shirt just high enough to expose the side of your torso, tugging the fabric over your bra, folding it under your arm to keep it out of the way. You're acutely aware of how much skin you're showing—even more so under that bright, direct light.

He kneels beside you with the stencil, gaze focused. You expect him to avoid eye contact, to be clinical—but Han is anything but.

His fingers brush your waist, and they stay there, warm through the gloves. His hand spreads slightly, holding your skin steady as he gently presses the cool stencil to your ribs.

“Breathe for me, yeah?” he murmurs, glancing up at you with a crooked smile. “I’m gonna press it right here…”

You suck in a breath, chest rising.

He places the stencil deliberately. Slowly. His face is close—close enough that you can see the curve of his lashes, the faint sheen of gloss on his lip ring. You smell cedar and musk on his hoodie. His fingers flex slightly against your side.

He looks up.

“You’re already twitchy,” he says softly, voice dropping just enough to make you forget how to breathe. “Gonna be a fun ride.”

You don’t know if he means the tattoo. And neither does he.

He stands and moves to the table beside him, switching out tools like it’s second nature. The machine buzzes to life with a sharp mechanical hum.

You tense.

He catches it immediately.

“First pinch might sting,” he says, voice suddenly gentle, almost coaxing. “I’ll talk you through it. You’re good.”

You nod again, trying not to clench your fists.

Then his hand is back on your body.

He anchors you with one palm spread wide over your side, right above your hip. It’s not forceful, but there’s weight to it. A possessive steadiness. The leather chair creaks faintly under the shift of your body.

And then the needle touches. A sharp, sudden sting. You wince.

“Breathe. Just like that. You’re doing so well, pretty,” he says, voice a constant hum in your ear. “Your skin takes ink like a dream. Fuck, this is gonna look good.”

You exhale through your nose, trying to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the burn.

It helps. But not in the way it should. Because Han doesn’t shut up. Not once.

“Don’t squirm too much… unless you want me to slip.” “You’re soft here. So fucking soft.” “Bet you’re the type who likes being teased, huh?”

You let out a choked laugh, more from panic than humor. He grins, eyes glinting.

The buzz of the machine, the heat of his palm on your skin, the constant commentary—it all blends into a haze. You’re dripping adrenaline and something else entirely. You feel like you’ve been stripped down far deeper than your shirt allows.

After what feels like both a lifetime and a blink, the needle slows. He lifts it. “Almost done. You’ve been such a good girl for me.”

The words land like a slap and a stroke at once.

He sets the machine aside, reaching for a fresh cloth. He wipes your skin slowly. Not rough. Not rushed. Every pass of his hand is careful, gentle.

You’re trembling now. Just a little.

He leans back finally and exhales. The air feels different. Like it’s shifted again—thicker.

“There,” he says. “Wanna see?”

You nod, throat dry.

He helps you up—guides you to a mirror near the corner. His hand stays on your back.

You look. And for a second, you forget how to breathe again. The tattoo is perfect. Clean, delicate, exactly how you pictured it. But it’s not just the ink that makes your chest ache—it’s the fact that it’s his. His hands made this. His touch. His art. On your skin.

“My work’s on you now,” he murmurs behind you, voice low and close. “You’re not gonna forget me, are you?”

You shake your head. You couldn’t if you tried.

The moment you slide your shirt back down, your skin feels… different. Not just because it's slightly tender from the ink, but because his touch still lingers. Like heat soaked into your bones. Like a fingerprint on your soul. You shouldn’t be this affected—he’s just your tattoo artist. Right?

You sit there for a moment longer than necessary, blinking as he finishes cleaning his station. His gloves come off with a snap, and he tosses them into the bin. You glance up, and—yep—he’s watching you.

Leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed, hair a little mussed, rings catching the light. Smug as hell.

“You survived,” he says, voice bright with that chaos-riddled lilt again. “Didn’t cry. Didn’t puke. I’m impressed.”

You roll your eyes. “High praise.”

“I’ve had grown men pass out from rib pieces,” he shrugs. “One guy farted. Loud. Mid-linework. I almost dropped the machine.”

You snort despite yourself. “Well, thanks for not comparing me to the Fart Guy until the end.”

He grins, wide and gleaming. “No, no, you’re top-tier,” he says, stepping closer to grab your care sheet. “Didn’t even whimper. Except for that one part where your breath hitched and I thought—y’know, for a second—you might come on the chair.”

You nearly choke. “Excuse me?!”

“Kidding,” he sing-songs. “Unless…?”

Your glare is ruined by the flush racing up your neck. You stand and grab your bag in a hurry, trying to save face. “You’re awful.”

“I’m delightful.”

He leads you back toward the front desk, swaying just slightly with each step, like he’s got too much energy stored in those shoulders. You swear he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. It’s giving feral golden retriever with a tattoo gun and a praise kink.

You hand over your card while avoiding eye contact.

He hums dramatically as he takes it, flipping it over like he’s studying an ancient rune.

“You sure you don’t wanna tip in other ways?” he says, deadpan.

Your jaw drops.

He grins, swipes your card, and taps it dramatically against the reader before handing it back. “Joking, obviously. Unless that wasn't a ‘no,’ in which case, I’m free next week—Tuesday, after 7?”

You grab the receipt from the printer and scowl at him. “You flirt with all your clients like this?”

“Only the pretty ones who shake when I touch their ribs.”

You stare.

He smiles wider.

“Okay, okay—last line, I swear,” he chuckles. Then, softer: “Hey. Can I get your number?”

The way he asks it—it’s not sleazy. It’s bold, sure. But there’s this undercurrent of actual interest, like he’s asking for something more than just your digits.

You blink. “Why?”

“‘Cause I want it?” he says, grinning. “Also, in case your tattoo needs a touch-up. Or emotional support. Or if you just feel like sending me hot selfies. It’s a multi-purpose thing.”

You hesitate. Your pulse says yes before your mouth does. He notices. He always notices. You hand him your phone, and he immediately types his own number in, labelling it:

HAN “WILL NOT SHUT UP” JISUNG 🖤

He sends himself a text from your phone, winks, then gives it back. “Now we’re connected,” he says “Digitally. Spiritually. Carnally—well, not yet.”

You open your mouth to sass him. “You were so close to being cool,” you say.

“Close is my middle name.”

You snort and shake your head as you step toward the door. “Bye, Han.”

“See you soon, angel.”

You’re out the door.

The texting started immediately. Like, within minutes of you leaving the shop.

What began as tattoo care check-ins (“don’t scratch it or I’ll spank you—unless?”) turned into daily chaos. Then nightly chaos. Then a full-blown flirtationship spiralling out of control.

Han texts like he lives inside your brain—firing off filthy one-liners between jokes that make you wheeze-laugh at 1AM, switching between “you’re my filthy little secret” and “pls tell me I’m cute or I’ll cry.”

You finally cave after he begs you to get ramen at 9PM “as friends who have sexual tension.”

You show up. He’s already sitting cross-legged in the booth, hoodie sleeves rolled up, lip ring glinting, chopsticks twirling in one hand like he’s about to duel someone.

He greets you with: “You look edible. I meant that in a respectful way. Mostly.”

You try to play it cool. He doesn’t let you.

The whole night is full of dumb jokes, spicy noodles, and under-the-table foot nudging that turns into ankle grazing that turns into—

“You keep that up, baby,” he murmurs across the table, “and I’m gonna drag you to the bathroom and remind you what these fingers can do.”

You nearly choke on your drink. He laughs, head tilted back, so proud of himself.

You leave flustered. He kisses your cheek in the parking lot. Just your cheek. But his hand lingers at your waist. His mouth is right next to your ear.

“Call me when you can’t sleep,” he says, low. “I’ll make sure you get tired again.”

You almost trip on the curb.

The calls eventually started and slowly became routine. Especially those 1AM phone calls, they were like clockwork. You, in bed, breath heavy as his voice would melt through the speaker.

“You touching yourself yet?” “You want me to talk you through it?” “Want me to tell you what I’d do if I had you on my lap right now?”

He moans in your ear when you do what he says.

Filthy. Unfiltered. And when it’s over—when you’re breathless and ruined—he says the softest things:

“Wish I was there to hold you.” “You’re so fucking hot, but you’re also cute and funny and it’s unfair.” “You still like me, right?”

It’s not just lust anymore. It's want. Sticky, addictive, confusing want.

It started with a text.

Just one. Sent on a whim while lying in bed late at night, staring at the first tattoo he gave you—delicate black lines peeking from beneath your shirt, still soft to the touch even weeks later.

[You, 11:23PM] thinking about getting another one

You didn’t expect a fast reply. But Jisung’s name lit up your phone in under two minutes.

[HAN “WILL NOT SHUT UP” 🖤, 11:24PM] oh?? 👀 where when how much skin we talking is it just an excuse to see me again (pls say yes)

You rolled your eyes. Typed back:

[You] hipbone small script and maybe what if it was both

His reply came in a blink:

[HAN “WILL NOT SHUT UP” 🖤] come by the shop this friday after hours no distractions just me. you. ink. doors locked. lights low. …for professionalism, obviously 🙃

You stared at the screen for a long time before replying.

And then:

[You] see you friday.

Friday. 9:04PM.

Seoul’s city pulse is just starting to dim when you push open the door to NO SAINT INK for the second time.

The bell doesn’t ring. He told you it wouldn’t.

The neon signs are still lit—SINNER’S HANDS flickering a slow blood-red glow in the window—but the rest of the shop feels different. Empty. Still. Like something waiting to be touched.

The lights are dimmed. Only one small lamp buzzes near the back, casting long shadows across the matte-black walls.

Your steps echo a little as you walk inside. Then—

“Back here, pretty.”

His voice, low and smooth, floats from behind a curtain in the far booth.

You follow it. Pull the curtain aside. And there he is.

He’s already set up.

Tattoo machine prepped, gloves laid out neatly beside his sketch pad. He’s wearing an oversized black tee tucked loosely into ripped jeans, sleeves rolled just enough to show off the ink that curls around his biceps like living things.

He doesn’t look at you at first.

He’s focused on the script you’d sent him earlier—your design. A small phrase, handwritten in your own messy scrawl: “still hungry.”

When he finally glances up, it hits you like the first time all over again.

The way his lip curls. The way his eyes bite first and ask questions later. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dipped in something dark and fond. “Back for more.”

You lean against the booth’s edge, heartbeat already in your throat. “You said professionalism, remember?”

He stands slowly. Walks toward you. You can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.

“I lied.”

A beat. Then—

“Where’s it going again?”

You lift the hem of your hoodie just a little. Hook your thumb beneath your waistband and tug it down, just far enough to expose the sharp curve of your hipbone.

His gaze drops.

Stays.

He doesn’t speak for a moment too long. Just stares—like he’s trying to memorize you before he ruins you. “That’s dangerous, you know,” he says softly. “Letting me touch you there.”

You try to swallow. Fail. “You’re the one who said no distractions.”

He smiles. “You’re the fucking distraction.”

He gloves up without another word.

You lie back on the chair, heart slamming in your chest, every inch of skin suddenly too hot.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something casual? Familiar? But the moment his gloved hand touches your bare hip—steadying you, fingers spread firm and warm—the entire world narrows to him.

“Breathe for me,” he murmurs, positioning the stencil. “Just like last time. You remember how good you were for me?”

You exhale shakily.

“You gonna behave again tonight, pretty thing?”

You whisper: “Maybe.”

He leans in. His mouth is close to your skin. His voice—barely a breath. “God, I hope not.” He’s still positioning the stencil.

And you? You're laid back on the chair, hoodie bunched beneath your ribs, waistband tugged low, every nerve ending on alert. The soft lamplight paints shadows across his jaw as he kneels between your legs, eyes focused.

And then—

“You know,” he says lightly, pressing the stencil into place, “I’ve seen a lot of hipbones. But this one might be my favourite.”

You snort. “Wow. So original.”

He grins without looking up. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“I’m sure you say that to all your clients.”

“Only the ones who sext me about popsicles and then block me for ten minutes.”

You go still. He finally glances up. Smirks. “Yeah. Thought I forgot about that?”

You mutter, “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he says immediately, like it’s a fact. “You want me to ruin your life. Slowly. Lovingly. With tattoos and aftercare.”

You cover your face. “Shut up.”

He laughs—a low, breathy sound. Then, softly: “I’m starting the line now. Hold still, baby.”

The machine whirs to life.

It’s quieter than you remember. Or maybe you’re just more aware—of everything. The way his gloved hand steadies your hip, thumb dragging along the edge of your waistband. The needle’s sharp kiss. The buzz settling into your bones.

And Han’s voice. God, he never stops talking.

“This spot’s sensitive,” he says, totally casual. “Most people squirm. But I like that.”

You tense. He notices. Of course he does.

“Relax,” he murmurs, dragging the line smooth. “You’re doing perfect.”

Another pause. Then—

“Don’t suppose you’re into pain, are you?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to. He chuckles under his breath. “God, you so are.”

But then, just like that—his tone shifts. He quiets. Focuses. And the teasing melts into something heavier. “Almost done,” he says, more softly this time. “You’ve been so good for me again. Always are.”

You blink. Your heart skips.

He wipes your skin again, slow and reverent, then leans back to look. He’s still crouched between your thighs, eyes focused, lips parted slightly as he takes it in.

“Fuck.”

You blink. “What?”

He looks up at you. No grin now. Just quiet, open admiration. “It’s gorgeous,” he says. “Like… stupid good.” He presses a kiss to his gloved fingertips and taps them against your skin.

“Still hungry,” he reads aloud. “God, I could write essays on that.”

“Don’t,” you whisper.

“Too late. MLA format. Double spaced. Thesis: you’re gonna kill me.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re flushed. Breath shallow. Because now that the needle’s done…

He’s not moving. His hand stays on your waist. His eyes flick to your lips. Then back down. Then—

“You want me to touch you?”

The question lands like a live wire in the room. But he doesn’t push. Doesn’t smirk. He just waits. Like he’s offering something sacred. Like he’d back off the second you said no. But you don’t. You can’t.

You nod. Barely.

His fingers tighten on your skin. “Nah,” he murmurs. “Say it. I want to hear it.”

You swallow.

“…Yes.”

“Yes what, baby?”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Jisung—”

“Use your words, pretty thing. Or I’ll stop before I start.”

You suck in a breath, eyes locking with his. “I want you to touch me.”

He moves instantly.

The gloves are still on when he presses his palm flat against your hipbone, fingers spreading possessively. His hand feels huge there—like it was made for this exact spot.

“Fuck. Been thinking about this since the first time you came in,” he mutters, voice dropping into something rough, reverent. “You looked so fucking good in that chair. All nervous and squirmy.”

He bends down.

Kisses the edge of your new tattoo, so soft it almost hurts. “My name’s not even on you,” he whispers, “and I’m still acting like you’re mine.”

Your stomach flips. You whimper.

And he grins, but it’s different now—hungry, not cocky. “Take your pants off.”

You blink.

He meets your eyes. “Let me take care of you.”

You obey—slow, breathless, trembling under his gaze. You slide them down and toss them aside. He leans in again, eyes tracing over the new ink and everything below it, slow and starving.

You’re not wearing much underneath, lacy pink panties, with a very obvious wet spot on your center.

He groans softly. “You’re already wet.”

You gasp when his fingers brush over you, lazy, like he has all the time in the world. “All this from a little needle?” he teases. “Or is it the artist?”

“Fuck you,” you breathe.

He laughs. One low, wicked exhale. “Oh, you will. But not yet.”

He leans back, peels his gloves off slowly—dragging each finger loose one by one, like he’s unwrapping a gift. Tosses them into the bin without taking his eyes off you once.

Then he lowers himself between your legs.

Spreads your thighs just a little further apart with both hands. You hear him exhale.

“Fuck. This is gonna kill me.”

He doesn’t touch you yet. Just leans in.

And presses a kiss right above your knee. Then the inside of your thigh. Then a little higher. And a little higher.

Your breath hitches when his lips ghost just beside the fabric.

“Soaked through lace,” he murmurs. “That’s so fucking pretty, baby.”

You’re shaking now.

He mouths over the wet spot—not even pulling them down yet. Just letting the heat of his breath and the drag of his lips torture you. You feel the scrape of his lip ring as he kisses you again, open-mouthed, right there.

“Bet you’d cum just from this,” he whispers. “My mouth through your panties. Barely even trying.”

You whimper. One hand fisting the edge of the chair.

His fingers slide over the wet spot next, slow and teasing. Two fingers rub a lazy circle, barely pressing—just enough to make your hips twitch. “I should leave these on,” he says, almost to himself. “Just push them to the side. Make you beg for it.”

You breathe, “Jisung—please—”

That does it.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down—slow, deliberate, watching every inch of you get exposed.

He groans loudly the second you’re bare. “Holy fuck.”

Then he’s leaning in again, this time nothing between you. He kisses your inner thigh first. Then lower.

Then—

His tongue drags one long, obscene stripe up your center. You cry out, hips bucking—he presses a hand to your stomach, holding you still with an effortless command:

“Stay fucking still.”

Then he goes back in. He licks you like he means it—messy, slow, then fast and deep. His tongue circles your clit with practiced chaos. He moans against you, loud, like you taste like something sacred.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he groans, voice muffled.

His hands spread you wider, his tongue dipping into your heat, nose pressed right up against your skin.

Then he sucks. Hard.

Your head falls back—gone.

“That’s it,” he purrs. “My perfect little slut. Look at you.”

Your hands tangle in his hair. You tug. He groans again and ruts into the fucking air, desperate for friction while he eats you out like he’s starving.

“You gonna cum on my mouth?” he growls, voice wrecked. “You want me to keep going or make you beg for it?”

You try to answer—can’t.

He pulls back for just a moment, lips and chin shining. “Use your words, baby. You know the rules.”

“Please—fuck—don’t stop, please—Jisung—”

“God,” he groans. “Keep saying my name like that and I’m gonna cum in my fucking jeans.”

Then he dives back in, faster now, tongue fucking into you, hand moving to circle your clit with soaked fingers while he sucks and moans like you’re his last goddamn meal. He’s everywhere—his mouth, his hand, the filthy hum of his moans vibrating straight through your core. He doesn’t pause to tease, doesn’t stop to talk this time. He’s all action now. Starved. Feral.

“Fuck,” he growls between licks, the words hot and wet against your folds. “You taste so fucking good. Gonna make me lose my mind.”

His tongue pushes in again. He flicks it fast, then slow, then sucks at your clit with a deep, wet moan that makes you cry out, back arching clean off the chair.

“There you go,” he pants, not even breaking rhythm. “Just like that. Give it to me, baby. Come on.” His voice is breathless, desperate—like he’s the one about to cum.

You’re shaking. Legs trembling. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your hands are clutching his hair, holding him right where you need him, and he just groans louder, grinding his face deeper like he wants to live between your legs. His lip ring catches against your clit—again, and again—and your thighs clamp around his head instinctively.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even flinch.

He just moans into you, hands gripping your hips tighter, holding you down as your whole body starts to unravel. You feel it in your spine. In your toes. In the fucking air.

“You close, pretty thing?” he slurs against your clit. “Yeah, you are. You’re fucking dripping—making a mess for me. So fucking perfect. All mine.”

That breaks you.

You cum harder than you ever have in your life—with a sob, a gasp, a full-body spasm that crashes over you like a goddamn tsunami.

You hear yourself. You scream his name.

Jisung. Jisung. Jisung.

And he takes it.

He drinks it down like a man possessed, moaning into you like you’re water in the desert, like he’s been waiting his whole life to taste you fall apart. He doesn’t even stop when you cum—he licks you through it, tongue softening only slightly as your body twitches and bucks and pleads for mercy.

It’s too much. It’s so good it hurts.

“J-Jisung—fuck—wait—too much—”

Only then does he pull back, chest heaving, face absolutely wrecked. His mouth, his chin, even the tip of his nose glistens with you. He looks dazed.

Blessed.

He runs a hand down his face and just stares at you—spread out, soaked, shaking, glowing.

Then: “Holy fuck.”

You blink up at him, still gasping, brain static.

He grins—wide, flushed, proud as hell. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Best pussy of my life.” You try to sass him. You really do. But all that comes out is a whimper.

“Aw,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Dumbed you out already?”

He brushes your hair back, kisses your forehead. “You okay?”

You nod. Barely.

“You want more?”

You nod. Desperately.

He chuckles, voice thick with affection and wrecked restraint. “Yeah, baby. Me too.” Then he stands up, undoing his belt with shaking hands, and murmurs: “Get comfy. ’Cause I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget your own name.”

You’re still gasping. Still trembling. But your eyes follow the movement of his hands—shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, then the button, then the zipper.

He pushes his jeans down—

And your breath catches. You knew he’d be pretty. But not like this. Not this.

Thick. Flushed. Slight curve to the left.

And not just the look of it—the feel of it, even before he’s inside. You know instinctively it’s going to destroy you. That kind of snug fit that presses into all the right places and leaves no room for secrets.

He strokes himself once, slow and slick, precum already leaking from the tip. “Gonna be good for me, baby?” he asks, voice shaking as he fists his cock. “Let me feel that perfect pussy now?”

You nod. Dumb. Ready. So wet you feel it drip onto the chair beneath you.

He lines up—rubs the head of his cock over your folds, up and down, teasing your clit before circling your entrance. You’re still sensitive. Still twitching. And he feels it. “Still throbbing for me,” he murmurs. “God, you’re unreal.”

He pushes in. Slow. Deep. Too much. Too good.

You cry out—your body arching, your hands gripping the armrest and his forearm and anything you can reach.

Because he fits. Perfectly. Thick enough to make you stretch wide, gasp, feel it in your lungs. But not enough to hurt. No—just enough to ruin you.

“F-fuck,” he groans, head falling forward. “You’re squeezing me so tight—Jesus—don’t move yet, I’ll cum too fast—” He bottoms out, hips flush to yours. He stays there for a second. Still trembling. His cock twitches inside you.

“I’m gonna die,” he whispers. “I’m gonna die in this pussy.”

You laugh—a breathless, broken thing—and he grins like he’s proud.

Then? He pulls out halfway. And slams back in. Hard. And again. And again. Fast. Unhinged. Like he’s been waiting to do this for weeks. “Oh fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby—keep takin’ it—so fucking perfect—”

He’s rambling now. Whimpering.

Each thrust hits so deep you swear you see stars. It’s a rhythm that shouldn’t exist, shouldn’t be real. Every stroke dragging against your g-spot, every snap of his hips making your thighs quake.

And he’s talking. So much.

“You feel that? Huh? You feel how good you make me?” “You’re all mine. This pussy? Fucking mine. Say it.” “Say it, baby, c’mon—tell me who it belongs to—”

You choke out, “You—it’s yours, Jisung—fuck, you’re so deep—”

He moans—wrecked. “God, I’m not gonna last—fuck—you’re too good—you’re too fucking good—” Then he bends down—mouth at your ear, hips still pounding into you like he’s trying to brand your soul.

“One more,” he whispers. “Just one more, yeah? Be my good girl and cum for me again—come on—cum on my cock—let me feel you—”

You barely get the chance to nod. Because then—he changes rhythm.

Not slower. Not gentler. Worse. He fucks you harder. Deeper. Like his body knows exactly how to hit every nerve inside you. Like he’s memorized your walls. And maybe he has. Maybe from the moment he first touched you in that chair, his entire brain rewired for this—for you.

“So fucking tight,” he pants, voice cracked open, almost panicked. “Shit—look at how you take me—look at that, fuck—”

He’s holding your waist again, but carefully—just above the fresh tattoo. His fingers dig into your ribs, grip locked in, not letting you squirm away as he slams into you, pace frantic, unrelenting.

“Can’t touch your hips,” he growls, “so I’m gonna hold you right here—just like this—until you fall apart again.”

Then his hand slides down. Finds your clit. And rubs. Fast. Tight.

You moan loud.

“Tell me what it feels like,” he pants, eyes locked on your face, wild. “Come on, baby—talk to me. You know the rules.”

You try. You try so hard.

“It’s—fuck—Jisung—it’s too much—I-I can’t—”

His hand doesn’t stop. His cock drives up into you like it’s chasing your orgasm, like he can feel it coming and he wants to drag it out of you with his bare hands. “Yes, you can. You’re my good girl, right? My perfect fucking baby—tell me what you feel.”

You sob. “It’s everywhere—it’s so deep—I feel you in my stomach, Jisung—”

That makes him moan—full, wrecked, helpless. “Yeah? That’s it, baby. You feel me stretching you out? You feel how hard you’re clenching around me?”

He’s unhinged. Fucking you like he needs to feel you cum on his cock. Like it’s his only goddamn mission in life.

“Don’t hold back. Let me have it. Show me how good I make you feel.” His fingers tighten, rub faster. His cock keeps slamming up into that perfect, perfect spot.

And you break.

You fall apart on him with a cry that splits the air—your orgasm ripping through you like a detonation, a white-hot snap that makes your whole body lock up and tremble.

You cum hard. Harder than before. Harder than ever.

And he feels it. Feels you clench around him like a vice, walls pulsing, soaked, squeezing every last bit of him until he’s gasping into your throat. “Fuck—fuck—I’m gonna—baby—I’m—”

He slams in once, twice more—then stills. Buried deep. Groaning so loud it echoes. And cums. Hot. Fast. Deep. He fills you up with a desperate, whimpering exhale—head falling into the crook of your neck, fingers flexing tight on your waist as he rides it out, hips twitching helplessly inside you.

“Jesus—holy fuck—how are you real—”

You don’t know what you say. You don’t know if you’re breathing. All you know is he doesn’t let go. Not even after. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up to your ribs, the other cupping your jaw gently as he leans in and kisses your forehead.

Sweet. Messy. Possessive.

“I’m so fucking in love with your pussy.” he mumbles against your skin.

You laugh—wrecked and breathless. “You just came in me.”

“I did. I’ll take responsibility.”

“You didn’t even mean to.”

“That’s what makes it romantic.”

But then he goes quiet. Both of you do. Still joined. Still pulsing. The only sound in the room is your breathing—shaky, shallow, shared.

Han’s body is draped over yours, his skin hot and sticky, his face buried in your neck like he might actually die if he moves. He’s not even thrusting anymore—just lying there, full-on koala mode, arms around your waist, cock still twitching inside you like it doesn’t know it's over.

“I think I saw God,” he whispers.

You blink, still boneless and floating.

“Pretty sure she winked at me and said ‘Good job, Jisung.’”

You snort into the crumpled pillow beneath you. “Was she hot?”

He lifts his head just enough to deadpan: “She looked like you.”

A pause.

“Except taller. And clothed. And not full of cum.”

You let out a noise that’s half wheeze, half scream, face flushing as you try to twist away—but he tightens his grip, groaning as his still half-hard cock shifts inside you.

“Nooo, don’t move,” he whines. “You’ll make me hard again and I’ll die. You’re too powerful.”

You roll your eyes. “You just came in me, and now you’re being dramatic?”

He lifts his face, eyes wide. “I’m always dramatic. But now I’m dramatic and post-nut mushy.”

You smack his arm—lightly. He grins and kisses your shoulder like he’s never been happier in his life.

Then, suddenly gentle: “You okay? Need anything?”

You hum. “Water. A towel. A new pelvis.”

“I can offer you one of those things.”

He pulls out slowly, careful. You both wince a little, and he immediately fumbles for the nearest clean towel, muttering, “Shit, sorry, sorry—damn, we really did that, huh?”

He cleans you up softly, thoroughly. Tongue poking out in concentration, hands warm and reverent. You watch him in the dim light—his flushed cheeks, mussed-up curls, that stupid satisfied look on his face like he just won the lottery and the trophy was you.

He helps you sit up, eyes wide looking you over as if wanting to make sure you are okay and not just saying you're okay.

You smile at him, dazed. “That was insane.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then, quieter: “I really like you, by the way.”

You glance at him. He’s suddenly shy—voice small, fingers playing with the hem of the towel. “I mean—I know this was hot and wild and unholy, but like. You’re not just hot and wild and unholy. You’re…” He scratches the back of his head. “Cool. Funny. Gorgeous. Smart. And you have great pain tolerance and taste in art and—I dunno—your moans live in my soul now.”

You blink at him. He shrugs. “I just think you’re neat.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. You lean in, kiss him soft. He melts instantly.

Twenty minutes later, you’re both curled on the couch in the back lounge. Your legs are over his lap. You’re sipping water. He’s holding your hand and doodling hearts on your thigh with a sharpie.

“So,” he says, yawning. “When do you want your third tattoo?”

You give him a look. “Planning ahead?”

He smirks, smug. “Just making sure I get to fuck you again.”

You flick his forehead.

“Ow—okay, okay. For art. Not for horny.”

But you both know the truth. You’re absolutely getting another tattoo. And this man is going to absolutely ruin you again. With love. And dick. And filthy words. And then cuddle you like a little spoon with separation anxiety.

So the answer? Yeah. Yeah you will be seeing more of him. More dates. More dick. More tattoos. Guess it's fate.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #han jisung #한지성 #han x reader #han jisung smut #filthy friday

2K notes · View notes

motherismotheringggg · 25 days ago

Text

stuck like honey 🍯

summary - somewhat a continuation from the last one but you don’t necessarily have to have read it to get this (but you can ofc <3); the reader and bo are, simply put, in love and stuck to each other like honey; HEAVILY influenced by beyoncé’s “pure/honey” and “sweet honey buckiin” (i linked the exact parts of the songs im talking about)

type - black femme! reader x the pleaser, the eater bo chow

tags/warnings - half-asleep-but-consensual f!ngering, half-asleep-but-consensual sex, semi-public f!ngering, food play, sex!!!

author's note: well well well, i didnt anticipate writing another bo chow fic but here we are. i also have been obsessed with beyoonce (as you can see by my reblogs) for basically all of my life but since renaissance i’ve been BEYHIVE down. and i ofc love so many songs from renaissance and cowboy carter but the two HONEY soundtracks are absolutely my faves. and i just know that despite everyone in that movie being absolutely horned - i just know that bo and grace were making LOVE honey!!! he absolutely gives "foreplay starts before we're in the bedroom" type of man

It was just past seven when Bo unlocked the front door of the store and flipped the sign to “open”. The rising heat of the morning clung to the windows like sweat, streaking long gold ribbons across the floorboards. Outside, the air was thick with dew and the smell of fresh dirt. Inside, it was quiet, still, almost sacred.

You were curled up on a stool behind the counter with your lips parted around a slice of peach Bo had cut for you with a pocketknife. You watched him move between shelves with his slow, deliberate grace, shirt clinging soft to his back, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder like he’d been born behind a counter. He was humming something low under his breath, while he took inventory of stock.

You always offered to help set up in the mornings. Sometimes you'd already be up, sleeves rolled and halfway through organizing a shelf before he even flipped the sign. But without fail, he'd come up behind you, arms around your waist or hands gentle on your shoulders, and guide you right back to your seat.

“Now, you just sit pretty,” he’d murmur, that soft southern inflection warm in your ear, “and let that face bring the folks in. Your company’s worth more than any straightened jars or balanced books.”

You’d roll your eyes, lips twitching into a smirk as you sank back into your seat. But the truth was… you loved it.

Loved being looked after. Loved not having to worry. Loved the quiet certainty of being someone worth tending to.

Ever since that night at the juke joint, things had shifted—but not fast. In fact it was very gentle. Like everything Bo did. The kind of shift that rooted deep in the bones. You hadn’t just fallen into bed together, you’d grown into each other, like vines. Morning and night, breath and skin. It didn’t take long before his place felt like yours too, and you’d stopped leavin’ altogether.

Bo acted like you were the answer to all the problems that could ever plague him.

Every morning, before the sun even thought about rising, Bo reached for you like it was instinct.

His arm would snake around your waist beneath the quilt, warm and strong, pulling you back into the curve of his chest. He’d bury his nose in the crook of your neck, breathing you in like you were the only air worth having, lips brushing soft kisses across your skin, slow and sweet.

And then you’d feel him.

That heat, that weight pressing firm against your backside. It was unmistakable, almost insistent. But there was never any rush to it. Bo didn’t take; he asked without asking, with his hands moving like praise, his body telling you he craved you before his mouth ever did.

Your legs parted without thinking. Hips rolled back to meet his hand. And you’d breathe out a sleepy little moan that made him groan right behind you.

“You still mine, ain’t you?” he’d whisper, voice rough with sleep and want, his lips dragging just beneath your ear.

You’d nod, half-lost in the haze, and maybe whisper back, “Mmhmm, all yours…”

And that was all he needed.

His fingers would stroke you slow, worshipful, drawing honeyed heat from deep inside you. He’d murmur into your shoulder — things like “so sweet, baby,” and “lord, you feel like heaven” — and he meant every word. When he finally pushed inside you, it wasn’t hurried or greedy. It was deep. Full. A perfect kind of pressure that made you press your forehead into the pillow and breathe his name like a prayer.

Bo held your hand through it every time, lacing your fingers together as he moved behind you — steady, strong, so achingly good. His other hand gripped your waist, guiding you back into every thrust, and when he came, it was always with his lips pressed to your shoulder or the back of your neck, whispering how much he loved you.

After, he’d stay inside you, just holding you, letting the morning stretch between you like warm molasses.

Then he’d rise and go to the bathroom — but not before settin’ a kiss on your temple and sayin’, “I’ll warm the bath for you baby.”

————

Now, in the calm of the store, with the world beginning to stir outside and the light catching on the tin cans lining the shelves, you watched him move—watched the way his fingers brushed dust from the tops of canned peaches, how he readjusted the crates so everything lined up just right.

And even in that, even in the simplicity of him tending to his store and charming customers, he made it feel like a love letter.

He caught you looking and gave you that smile—the lazy, crooked one that made your stomach swoop like a girl catchin’ feelings for the first time. He didn’t say a word. Just wandered over, casual as anything, and let his hands settle on your thighs where you stood at the register.

It wasn’t a show. It was a habit.

The kind of touch that came second nature to him now—his palms finding your body like they belonged there. His fingers gave one slow, absent-minded squeeze before sliding off, brushing the hem of your skirt on their way down like he hadn’t even realized he’d done it.

When the store was quiet and the customers were distracted, he’d lean in close like he was just passing behind you—but his lips would catch yours on the way, a soft, barely-there kiss. Quick. Familiar. Like breathin’. And when he pulled back, his hand would linger at your waist, or trail down your arm in a light sweep that felt like nothing until it left you wanting.

Sometimes, he’d reach around you just to grab something from the shelf, but his fingers would always graze your hip on the way. Or he’d duck behind the counter to restock something, and let his shoulder press into your thigh a little longer than necessary before he stood.

It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t for anyone but him.

Bo just needed to touch you. Little reminders through the day—you’re here, you’re his, this is real.

And every time, it made you burn a little under the skin.

“You bored yet?” he asked, the low rasp of his voice, leaning down to your ear behind the register.

“No,” you said, your voice just above a whisper. “I’m quite entertained watchin’ you.”

He grinned, crooked and pleased. “You better. I like bein’ watched by you.”

“Thought you had work to do,” you said with a mock seriousness.

Bo leaned in close, lips grazing your ear. “M’tendin’ to the most important thing in the store.”

You deeply inhaled with a smirk, and you swatted at his chest, but your skin burned beneath your dress where his hand had been.

————

The sun was low behind the trees when you slipped into the back room of the store. The warm amber light filtered through the slats in the windows, painting long shadows across the shelves, the sacks of grain, the dusty floor. The hum of the day had quieted into something still. Peaceful. Soft.

You rolled your sleeves and leaned over the little table Bo had fixed up for you. The surface was scattered with your jars—some sealed, some half-filled—each one glinting with thick, golden honey. You were working on a new infusion: thyme and orange peel. Just a pinch of clove. Something to make a summer drink taste like memory.

Beekeeping had always been a quiet sort of joy. Even in Chicago, where green things were few and far between, you’d find a park to sit in, preferably near flower patches and lean in to hear the buzzing of the bees. It reminded you of your grandmother’s backyard, of chasing them barefoot through dandelions and clover while your aunties hollered for you to stop. Back then you thought the bees were gold-laced messengers. Even now, it felt like they had secrets only you could hear.

Back home, when the drunks packed into your bar and poured themselves out at your counter, you’d offer up little drinks sweetened with your flavored honey—lavender, citrus, rose. Men with callused hands and broken teeth would knock back whiskey and then blink in surprise at how soft it went down. You liked giving them something that made ‘em pause. Made ‘em smile.

Here in the Delta, the store had a different kind of rhythm—but you still found time to tinker. The back room smelled sweet from your jars and the herbs drying near the window. The glass glowed warm in the evening light. You were hunched over, stirring with a small wooden stick, muttering to yourself about balance and sweetness, when you felt him.

You always felt Bo before you saw him.

He crept up behind you, even with his work shoes he was still quiet as a breeze, and slid his hands around your waist—warm palms meeting your apron strings. You didn’t jump, didn’t even flinch. Just smiled and kept stirring.

“What you workin’ on back here, honey girl?” he asked, voice soft like it was soaked in molasses.

You swatted his hand with your rag without looking. “It’s a surprise,” you said, tone playfully stern. “You’ll ruin it if you keep hoverin’.”

Bo chuckled under his breath, lips brushing your ear. “You know I hate surprises,” he whispered, kissin’ just under your jaw. “I get impatient…needy.” The words sent a jolt through your spine.

You shook your head but you were already smiling.

He kissed your cheek, soft and slow, like he had all night to do just that. Then he pulled back, after you swatted his hand away for what felt like the the millionth time. Sighing like a man who’d just been denied his favorite meal, and drifted out of the room, the old bell at the front jingling as another customer came in.

You kept working.

Every so often, you’d catch him peeking in. Just a glance. Just to see you there, sleeves rolled and lips pursed, leaning over your jars like a scientist.

————

When the sun finally dipped behind the treeline and Bo said goodbye to his last customer, flipped the sign to Closed, wiped his hands on his apron and made his way back to you.

You didn’t hear him this time.

You just felt the press of his chest against your back, his hands massaged your shoulders while he planted a soft kiss on it. Then again. And again, right above the seam of your dress.

“Now why you still back here keepin’ secrets from me?” he murmured, his voice a low hum that buzzed straight through your ribs. “You know that hurts my feelin’s.”

You let out a soft laugh, breath hitching as his mouth grazed your neck. “And you know I just hate to have you wait for anything,” you said, feigning a pout as you continued to work trying to keep your composure.

Bo chuckled against your skin, his voice all gravel and honey. “Exactly,” he murmured. “You know I need you, baby. Can’t have you makin’ me wait too long—I get real pitiful.”

You smirked, as you wrapped up your final jar. “Oh, I know. You damn near fall apart the minute I’m outta reach.”

He hummed, lips finding your shoulder again again. “Can’t help it. You spoil me somethin’ terrible.”

His hands sliding lower, gripping at your hips like he was gonna pull you into his skin. “I’ve been good all day. Haven’t even touched you proper.”

“You been touchin’ me all damn day,” you said, with a low breathy laugh.

Bo didn’t argue.

He just kissed you harder, moving up to your neck

The more he begged, the more he touched—slow at first, like he didn’t want to spook the moment, but it wasn’t long before his hands were everywhere. One slipped around your waist, the other tracing the dip of your spine through your dress, fingers catching on fabric like he was tryin’ to memorize the shape of you blind.

His mouth moved tenderly, almost worshipful—brushing over your shoulder blades in featherlight passes, lips parting against the soft dip between them. You felt the heat of him rising off his chest, his breath warming your skin wherever he hovered.

He kissed the side of your neck, just beneath your jaw, and you shivered. But it was when his teeth grazed that tender spot behind your ear—that little place only he ever seemed to find on the first try—that you moaned.

Soft, unguarded, needy.

He exhaled like it was a gospel chorus. Like that one sound had been sitting under his ribs all day, begging to be set free.

“Lord baby,” he muttered, his voice thick. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

And still, his hands kept moving—turning you around while one slid lower to the hem of your dress, his fingertips slipping just beneath, trailing fire in their wake. You fell into him without even meaning to, your body answering him before your mouth could.

Bo always knew how to touch you like that—like every inch of you was something sacred he had the privilege to worship.

Then, without breakin eye contact, he wrapped those strong arms around the backs of your thighs and lifted you clean off the floor. You gave a little squeal, more out of surprise than protest, hands clutching his shoulders as he set you down gently on the wooden table behind you. Your knees fell open around him without thinking. The wood was cool beneath your thighs.

“Bo,” you warned, breath shaky but your voice not unkind.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby. I’ll be good.”

And he was.

His hands were steady as they slid up the inside of your thighs, thumbs pressing slow, worshipful circles into the soft flesh. His lips never left you for long—mouthing along your collarbone, the swell of your chest, your jaw. When he reached the hem of your panties, he kissed you like it was a blessing, then eased a finger beneath the fabric.

You gasped. You always did that first time—like he caught you off guard, even when you were expecting him.

He didn’t rush.

His fingers slipped over your folds, warm and soaked and needy, and he smiled against your skin like he was the luckiest man alive.

“Been sittin’ sweet for me all day, huh?” he murmured, voice thick with want. “You were waitin’. I know you were.”

You just nodded, biting your lip, head falling back when one thick finger pushed into you—slow, sure, steady.

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders. He kept his gaze locked on you, watching your mouth fall open, your thighs tighten around him.

“Look at you,” he breathed. “So damn gorgeous like this… all mine.”

He added a second finger, curling them just right, just deep enough to make your hips buck forward. He kissed the corner of your mouth as you moaned, slow and sweet like he was drinkin’ in the sound.

And through it all, his thumb worked in slow, practiced circles over your clit—each touch more careful than the last, like he was tryin’ to make it last, like he wanted to feel you unravel slow.

“You gon’ come for me, baby?” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek.

“Bo—” you choked out.

“Shh, I got you. Let me take care of it.”

And you did.

You came with a trembling cry, his name spilling out like a secret, clutchin’ at him like he was the only thing keepin’ you steady.

He didn’t let go—not for a second.

Just held you while you shook, kissing you like you were the sunrise and he was afraid to blink.

You were still breathing hard, thighs trembling as he buried his face in your neck, lips warm and smiling against your skin. One of his hands stayed at your waist, the other smoothing gentle strokes along your thigh like he was trying to soothe the very pleasure he’d just coaxed out of you.

“That good, huh?” he muttered, a little smug in his grin. “Knew that sweet honey didn’t come from just the bees.”

You gave a breathless laugh and lightly smacked his chest. “You’re somethin’ else.”

————

The kitchen was warm with the scent of lavender and honey-glazed cornbread, the windows open to let in the last breath of twilight. Cicadas murmured outside, that slow, golden hum of a Southern evening wrapping around the house like a quilt.

You watched Bo from the stove, one hand resting on your hip as he leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table—bare forearms crossed behind his head, tea glass raised to his lips. He took a sip and let out a long, appreciative hum that came from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Baby,” he said, drawling like he couldn’t help it, “this right here? You done made somethin’ special. This honey’s somethin’ serious.”

You smiled, trying to hide how pleased that made you. “You say that about everything I make.”

He grinned, lazy and lopsided. “Yeah, well. That don’t make it any less true.”

You brought over the rest of dinner—simple stuff, but made with love: roasted chicken, greens, biscuits still warm from the oven. Bo dug in like he hadn’t eaten in days, and every few bites he went back to the tea, eyes rolling a little each time like the sweetness was knocking him out cold.

“Swear,” he said through a mouthful, “if you put this honey on the shelves, I’m gon’ have to clear out a whole section just for you. Might not ever see you again—you’ll be too busy makin’ magic in the back room, tryna keep up with demand.”

You laughed, your chest blooming warm. “Don’t start with me.”

“I’m serious,” he said, pointing at your jar with the back of his spoon. “This right here? You sittin’ on gold, baby.”

You stood up to clear the plates, but Bo wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. His hand shot out and caught you by the wrist—gentle, but sure—and before you knew it, he was pulling you down into his lap.

“Bo—”

“Shh,” he whispered, wrapping both arms around you like he had all the time in the world. “Just sit with me.”

His chest was warm beneath your palms, and his heartbeat, steady and slow, beat against your side like a drum that only played for you. His cheek rested against your shoulder, lips brushing the skin where your collar slipped wide. That low, humming thing in his throat—half sigh, half purr—sent a ripple through you that you didn’t bother hiding.

“I’m real proud of you,” he said suddenly, voice quiet but thick. “Not just ��cause this honey’s so good I’m ready to marry the jar, but ‘cause you got your hands in somethin’ real. Somethin’ yours. I see how hard you work, and I just…” He trailed off, kissing the curve of your shoulder. “I love watchin’ you love on somethin’.”

Your heart stuttered.

He meant every word.

Your cheeks flushed as you cupped his face, “Well aren’t you quite the charmer.”

Bo took your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it and up your arm.

You giggled, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Then he pointed the honey jar still sittin’ on the table. “Is this your favorite one?”

You paused. “Honestly? I haven’t even tried it yet.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I been so busy makin’ ‘em I just… never got around to tastin’.”

Bo clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Lord have mercy, woman, that’s the saddest thing I heard all day.” He reached across the table, plucked the jar into his hand, and twisted the top off with a satisfying pop.

“I’m fixin’ that,” he murmured.

Bo held the jar in one hand, fingers gripping the glass like it was delicate and sacred. He tilted it slightly, letting the lavender honey catch the kitchen light. It glowed gold and viscous, swirling with faint flecks of flower petals, the scent faint but heady—sweet, earthy, calming.

Without looking away from you, he dipped two fingers inside, slow and deliberate. The thick honey wrapped around him like silk, sliding over the rough pads of his fingers until they were coated in gold. He lifted them back up with the same patience he gave everything he touched.

Gone was the playful smirk. In its place, something hungrier bloomed. Heavy. Heated.

He didn’t speak. Just extended his hand to you, palm up, fingers glistening. The honey was already beginning to drip down the side of his knuckle, sticky and shining like it had a mind of its own.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He didn’t rush you. Didn’t tease. Just waited—watching you like a man watching the sunrise, eyes fixed, jaw tight.

You leaned forward slowly, the air between you thick and warm. Your lips parted, and you let your tongue drag up the length of his finger—deliberately taking your time. The taste exploded across your mouth: floral and rich and deep, like the scent of a garden and summer heat soaked into sweet tea.

Bo’s breath hitched.

You didn’t stop there.

You took both fingers in your mouth and sucked gently, the honey melting between your tongue and the rough skin of his touch. Your eyes stayed locked on his the whole time—steady, intentional, watching the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed hard.

“Shit,” he muttered, low and gravely.

You felt the change in his body like a shift in the air—his hand twitching slightly, his legs parting just a little wider, the hard press of arousal starting to stir beneath his slacks. Still, he didn’t move to pull his fingers away. He just watched you, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, rough and hungry.

You smiled around his fingers, lips curling just enough for him to feel it.

Then you pulled off, slow, your mouth parting with a soft pop, a string of honey trailing between you before breaking. You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, eyes still smoldering.

Bo stared at you like a man starving. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, like he was trying to keep from acting on instinct alone.

His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, then back again—like he was trying to memorize the way you looked right before he ruined you.

Then he kissed you.

Deep. Slow. Starving.

Like he’d waited all damn day for it, like that little taste of honey on your tongue had cracked something open inside him. His mouth slanted over yours with heat and purpose, his hand curling around the back of your neck to keep you close, anchored to him like he’d drown if you pulled away.

You matched him, kiss for kiss, your fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt, tugging him even closer until your chest was flush with his. You felt him—hard and straining beneath his slacks, pressed against the softness of your lower belly. So you shifted, tilting your hips just enough to let your warmth meet his need.

He groaned into your mouth.

Low and guttural. The sound vibrated between your ribs and settled straight between your thighs.

Bo pulled back just enough to drag his mouth across your jaw, down your neck, teeth grazing tender as he growled, “You tryin’ to make a fool of me, sugar? Huh?”

You gasped as his grip tightened at your waist, grounding you to the heat of him. “Just tryna taste what I made,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.

Your lips grazed the column of his neck, laying soft, open-mouthed kisses along his skin as your hips rocked against his, slow and deliberate. Then, right at the shell of his ear, you whispered, “Figured you’d like it. You always did have a thing for sweet things…”

Bo chuckled—dark and low, the sound rumblin’ in his chest like thunder on the horizon. “Mmm,” he drawled, voice rough with want. “I do. But there’s somethin’ else sweet I been waitin’ to taste all damn day.”

In a swift moment, he slipped his hands under your thighs, gripped the backs with calloused palms, and lifted you like you were nothing but light.

You yelped, arms looping around his neck out of instinct. “Bo!”

“Shh,” he said, kissin’ just below your ear. “Ain’t droppin’ you. Would never.”

He carried you down the hall, each step slow and sure, your body pressed tight to his chest. You could feel the thrum of his heart through his shirt—fast and steady like a drumline in summer. The house smelled like lavender from the honey, sweat-sweet skin, and a little smoke from the stovetop, but all you could think about was the heat pulsing between your legs and the way Bo’s fingers flexed with every step, like he was reminding himself you were really there.

When he reached the bedroom, he nudged the door open with his foot and laid you down soft on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

You reached to shimmy out of your skirt, but his hands caught yours.

“Let me,” he rasped, voice low and heavy. “Please.”

There was something about the way he said it—like undressing you wasn’t a means to an end but a privilege.

You lifted your hips for him, slow and teasing, and he peeled the skirt down your thighs, kissing the inside of your knee as he did. His hands were big and dominant, slow to touch and slower to let go. Once the skirt was gone, he settled between your legs, kneeling on the bed in front of you like a man at an altar.

His fingers moved to your blouse, undoing each button with patience that burned. You reached out and started to undo his belt, desperate for friction, but he stilled your hands again with a soft laugh.

“Slow down, sugar,” he said, leanin’ forward to kiss the dip between your breasts. “I waited this long… don’t mind waitin’ a little more.”

Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the jar of honey.

You blinked. “Bo… what are doi—”

“Hush now,” he grinned. “Got plans.”

He twisted the lid off, dipped two fingers in slow, and drizzled a golden ribbon of honey across your stomach. The liquid was warm from his pocket, syrup-thick and shining in the low light. You shivered when it touched your skin.

Bo watched it trail, then leaned forward and licked the path clean—slow and messy, tongue dragging up your navel, his groan vibrating right into your belly.

You whimpered, head thrown back, breath catching as he reached behind you and unhooked your bra in one practiced sweep.

Your breasts sprang free, nipples already tight from anticipation—and the second they did, his mouth was on you.

He wrapped his lips around one nipple, sucking it deep, tongue flicking slow and wet. His other hand cupped your other breast, thumbing the peak until you arched up into him.

“God, Bo…” you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair.

He groaned in return, switching sides, lavishing the other nipple with the same tender hunger. His tongue was velvet, his mouth was heat, and he kept his rhythm steady, slow, like he was savoring you. Like your body was a story he meant to read cover to cover.

“Been thinkin’ about these all damn day,” he murmured between kisses, voice low and reverent. His breath fanned over your skin, warm and damp, making your nipples pebble even more as he suckled soft, then slow, then a little deeper—like he didn’t just want to make you feel good, but kept good.

You moaned, hand sliding into the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck, and he leaned into your touch like it soothed something in him. His fingers trailed down the sides of your waist, gentle and open, mapping every inch like he was afraid to miss a spot.

Then—when your breathing hitched just so—he pulled back and looked up at you, lips glistening, eyes molten.

“You still want me slow, baby?” he whispered, voice nearly cracking with need.

Your thighs trembled as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him up your body until your mouths met again—hot and hungry, tongues slow-dancing like they had all the time in the world. You could feel him, hard and thick against your core, still trapped in his boxers. Your hips rolled without thought, chasing the friction, and he gasped into your mouth.

“I want you close,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his. “I need you inside.”

Bo didn’t rush. He never did.

He kissed you once more—soft and deep—before leaning back on his knees, tugging off his shirt, then his slacks and boxers in one smooth motion. His cock sprang free, flushed and heavy, the tip wet with arousal. You swallowed hard. He was beautiful in the kind of way that made your breath hitch and your knees ache. His chest rose and fell in slow waves, all smooth brown skin stretched over a lean, muscled torso—cut just enough to show definition, the kind that came from real work, not vanity. His stomach flexed with each breath, a dusting of hair leading down to where you wanted him most.

Then his hands found your thighs, and he parted them slow.

“You always look so pretty like this,” he said, like he was telling you something you didn’t already know. “ Like your body was made to take me.”

You felt the blush burn up your chest as he lined himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your entrance with lazy circles that made you bite your lip.

And then—slowly, carefully—he pushed inside.

You both gasped at the stretch, at the way he filled you just right. He buried his face in your neck, his groan muffled against your skin as your legs wrapped around his waist. Your body welcomed him with ease, like it’d been waiting all day too.

Bo didn’t move at first. He just held you.

His arms slid under your back, cradling you close, and his lips found your temple as he stayed buried to the hilt. You could feel every throb of him, every twitch, every beat of his heart.

“You okay?” he whispered, barely audible.

You nodded, breathless. “Yes baby.”

He started to move, slow and deep, hips rocking into yours with a rhythm that felt like honey on a hot skillet—slow to start, but irresistible all the same. You whimpered at every stroke, nails raking softly down his back. He was thick and warm and so deep, hitting that perfect spot every time he rolled his hips.

Bo watched your face the entire time. His fingers brushed your cheek, your lips, your jaw. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?,” he muttered, “just so damn beautiful”, he whimpered out.

With every thrust, he kissed something—your mouth, your chest, your shoulder, your wrist. He whispered sweet nothings and sinful promises, murmuring “I got you, baby,” and “Let me take my time,” and “You feel so good I might lose my mind.”

You were both slick with sweat and shine, the scent of honey and skin clinging to the sheets as your moans blended with his. And when your thighs started to tremble, when that pressure built deep in your belly and your hands gripped his back like a lifeline, Bo knew.

He lifted your hips just slightly, angled his thrusts, and watched you fall apart with a cry of his name, clenching around him so tight it nearly undid him right then.

You could still feel the stick of honey between your stomachs, the pulse of your release echoing through your limbs. Bo’s fingers traced idle shapes along your spine, breath still ragged against your neck.

Then, you felt him shift—just enough to reach over the edge of the bed.

When he came back, the jar was in his hand again, nearly empty now, but he dipped two fingers in and held them to your lips with a sleepy grin.

“So…is this one your favorite?” he asked, voice low and sweet.

You took him in your mouth, slow and soft, and nodded as you licked him clean.

“Sweetest thing I ever tasted,” you murmured, and he pulled you closer like he’d never let you go.

Sticky. Sated. Glowing.

Wrapped up in each other ‘til the sun found you.

#all of my fics are absolutely my babies #but this one - combining my love of music and movies is just 😩🤌🏽#anyways enjoy #my BEST eater #bo chow #bo chow sinners #bo chow smut #bo chow x reader #bo chow x you #sinners smut #sinners fanfiction #sinners fic

550 notes · View notes

supern4turelle · 3 months ago

Text

older boyfriend!dean x reader (mdni, +18)

warnings/tags: sweet dean! fluff! ure his soft spot <3, age gap, smut, oral (f & m rec), p in v, unprotected, dom!dean, cumplay, a lot of dirty talking!

older boyfriend!dean who's extra protective of you. if you think he's over protective of his little brother, oh boy. you're his baby, and he'll never let anything happen to you.

older boyfriend!dean who tries to include you in cases/missions even if he doesn't allow you to hunt with them. he knows you like to feel part of it so — you help with other things be it researching, etc.

older boyfriend!dean who still teaches you how to load up & fire different types of guns for safety purposes, and to learn how to defend yourself in situations he hopes will never happen.

older boyfriend!dean who only ever sets his eyes on you. ever since he saw you, other women were practically non-existent; invisible. it's got sam shocked every time a gorgeous woman interacts with them and dean is genuinely nonchalant.

older boyfriend!dean who sits through your fave films with you, lets you take aux when taking a road trip. (which does not sit well with sam) & he's in love with the way you talk about things you love!!!

older boyfriend!dean who's sure you're the only definition of an angel. the realest ever than all those he's ever met. he can't help but gawk at you with adoration and awe every time he's with you.

"dean! look at the road!" you yell out at your boyfriend driving.

instead of looking front he's too busy being captivated by the way the sun casts light onto your face in the impala.

he just laughs, hands reaching up from your thigh to caress your cheek to your chin.

"can't help it baby, s'too hard to focus on driving with you beside me,"

older boyfriend!dean who hates sappy shit but hell, he'd do anything you ask him to. moments where he used to cringe at; he finds himself happy to be going through with you.

you wanna put couple plushies to decorate the impala? done!

you wanna have his and hers toothbrush? done!

you wanna talk about wedding plans? he's got the meal course plan and honeymoon planned down to the T. so sure that he wants to spend forever with you.

older boyfriend!dean is tough on people around him, but he could never raise his voice at you & could never stay mad at you. you're the only person at the receiving end of his soft side.

"dean; stop raising your voice at him, you're scaring me too," you raise your eyebrows, cheeks puffing out.

dean looks over, hands rubbing frustratingly over his stubble.

"baby, you're supposed to be on my side!" he pouts, and sam is bewildered.

older boyfriend!dean who learns how to embrace vulnerability with you. talks to you about his emotions and learns how to find ways to cope other than his trusty bottle of whiskey.

nsfw! ver

older boyfriend!dean who loves taking care of his girl in all ways he can.

older boyfriend!dean who loves going down on you. loves gripping onto your thighs as he looks up at you, gauging every bit of your reaction as he licks a stripe up your folds. groans when he gets a taste

he gets right into it, letting his tongue push through those gummy walls of yours, flicking around. tall nose of his pressing onto your swollen clit.

brings up his tongue to swirl around and play with that bud, while his fingers start to make their way into your cunt. he starts slow, pumping one finger before two.

you moan out, whining out his name as his tongue and fingers worked in tandem, your cunt gushing out juices and pulsing around his fingers.

"dean, oh my god,"

"yeah? feels good baby?" he groans. "you taste so fuckin' good, pretty cunt so tight 'round these fingers huh?"

you cry out his name til he brings you to a high, your orgasm washing over you, back arching as you clench around his fingers; eyes seeing white.

older boyfriend!dean who loves when you go down on him. holds your head down when you're on your knees. occasionally likes to hold your hair in a ponytail.

"that's my good girl. taking all of it like a goddamn champ huh?"

"yeah that's it, that's it. fuck. so pretty when you're so full of my cock,"

older boyfriend!dean who loves to have you whiny and desperate for him. he'll have you sat on his lap, fully clothed while you're naked.

"come on baby, show me how much you want it yeah?"

he plays with your tits, hands messily trying to grab on to every inch of you he can. you love to give him a show, arching your back and grinding down on his lap, friction from his pants making you cry out his name.

"how cute, i love when you're like this babe,"

you whine, "please," but he's cruel. he sits back with his arms behind him, "nah baby, i think you're doing a hell of a job — cum for me like this,"

he gives in though, rubbing your sensitive nipples while roughly playing with your tits, knowing it'll push you over the cliff.

"fuck, dean. i'm there i'm there — i'm gonna cum, gonna cum for you," you cry out, voice cracking while at a higher pitch before you scream out his name, cunt pulsing as a gracious amount of juices pump out.

"that's a good girl. look at you — so pretty and capable hm?"

older boyfriend!dean who loves when you take charge occasionally too.

you always take the opportunity to tease him, having him under you as you slowly unbutton his shirt, nails playing around with his chest and abdomen. all while your hips start to slowly rock against his groin.

when his hands approach, you take his wrists and slam it above him. "no touching, baby," you smirk, knowing how obedient he is when he wants to be.

he bites his lip, nodding as he lays back, letting you continue. his eyes hazy and hooded as he watches you take off his pants, teasing around his leaking slit and licking around the red and swollen tip.

"let me — let me fuck you baby — need to touch you, feel you," he groans, "fuck" you suck harshly, hands squeezing his balls lightly.

"we go at my pace today baby,"

older boyfriend!dean loves using the mirror. be it the standing mirror at the corner of your room or the in the toilet.

in the comfort of your room, he has you on your knees, hands clutching onto the sheets while your back is arched so prettily for him. he loves to look at the way your face scrunches when he smacks your ass while inching his huge cock inside of you.

he moans, "pretty cunt takes me in so fucking good," he stares at you through the mirror, increasing his pace. enjoying how fucked up you look as he pumps his cock in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.

when he's feeling needy, he'll take you on the toilet's counter. one hand bruising your hip as he inserts his cock from behind, the other across your shoulder to hold you in place. his eyes never leaving yours the whole time as he whispers filthy words in your ear.

"looking so pretty out there i just had to remind you who you belong to,"

"yeah you feel that? that's me marking you up as mine baby," he groans

"wanna be loud and let 'em hear? hm? naughty girl, you want all of 'em to know who's making you cry?"

"gonna cum a thick fucking load into you, and you're gonna keep it in yeah? tuck it in with that panty of yours and walk around the whole day with it — fuck — inside you,"

"and when we're back home i'm gonna fuck it in more deeply inside of you — fuck baby you like that huh, clenching me so fucking tight,"

"cum with me, come on baby, cum,"

older boyfriend!dean who pushes his cum back into your slippery cunt, making you spend the whole day with soaked panties and feeling smug that his cum stench is probably following you every where you go, marking you up.

A/N: hope you guys liked this first piece of work i've put out! will be working on the other requests now too! feel free to like/comment or reblog if you liked it ⭐️ sending love n kisses 🫧

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester fic #jensen ackles smut #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #dean winchester #supernatural fic #dean smut #dean winchester fluff

879 notes · View notes

bweirdart · 2 years ago

Text

EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!

OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!

general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober

F.A.Q:

Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?

NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!

Do I have to DRAW?

NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!

Can I start early?

YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!

I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?

NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!

RULES:

1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!

2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!

3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc

text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓

star = main prompts | no star = optional

INTRO WEEK

1: FAVE OC ⭐

-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?

2: NEW OC

-Who is your newest OC?

-Design a new OC right now

3: OLD OC ⭐

-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?

-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?

4: RE-DESIGN

-An OC who has changed a lot over the years

-Take an old OC and update their design right now

BACKSTORY WEEK

5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐

-Who is important to your OC?

-Do they have a partner?

-Do they have a best friend?

-Are they close to their family?

6: SYMBOL

-What imagery do you associate with your oc?

-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?

7: PERSONALITY ⭐

-How does your OC behave?

-What are their positive traits?

-What are their negative traits?

-Are they extroverted or introverted?

8: PAST

-What was your OC like as a child?

-Where did they grow up?

-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?

9: FUTURE ⭐

-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?

-What will your OC look like when they get older

-Do you have a planned ending for their story?

PALETTE WEEK

10: pumpkin patch palette

#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC

11: hot cocoa palette

#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4

12: midnight zone palette

#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0

13: peachy palette

#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8

14: haunted house palette

#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA

FUN + GAMES WEEK

15: MEME ⭐

-Post memes that remind you of your OC

-Draw your OC as a meme

-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)

16: FOOD

-What is your OC's favourite food?

-What is their least favourite?

-Can they cook?

17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐

-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!

-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!

18: SWAP

-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs

-Species or gender swap AU

-Invert an OC's colour scheme

19: INSPIRATION ⭐

-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?

-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs

-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?

20: INVENTORY

-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?

-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?

-Loot drop for your DnD OC

FRIENDS WEEK

21-25:

There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...

-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you

-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC

-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like

-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend

-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone

HALLOWEEN WEEK

26: FEAR ⭐

-What is your OC scared of?

-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)

-Draw a human OC as a monster

-Design a new monster

28: TRICK

-Play a trick on an OC

-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?

29: TREAT

-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?

-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick

30: MAGIC

-Do any of your characters have magical powers?

-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact

-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard

27: COSTUME ⭐

-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?

#bweirdOCtober #events

6K notes · View notes

noctiva · 5 months ago

Note

Toby with an intox kink so he gets reader all high and needy for him

DUDE I was literally just geeking about this exact concept bc one of my fave nsfw artists did this with her oc and OOOOH LORD! r u in my walls 🤨

I’ve said before tho that I won’t write noncon despite the circumstances soooo here’s my take on it <3

Dilation

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

WC: 7.6k

Summary: You have a hobby of getting way too wasted around your far too loving boyfriend. So he gains a hobby of fucking you through it.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, dom/sub undertones, drugging, mildly dubious consent, like… reader is aware she’s being drugged but still, CNC I suppose, aphrodisiacs, coercion kind of, dead doveeeee, vaginal fingering, unsafe sex, wet and messy, drool and spit, creampie, hair pulling, begging + teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, mocking, but also praise, dacryphilia, overstimulation, marking and biting, slight dummification, toby being mean hot

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the actions written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

“Open up, b-baby.”

On the edge of Toby’s bed, you sit. It’s a late Saturday night; the curtains are drawn, the lights are low, and the soft sound of some 2000s era rock song hums out from the speakers of your boyfriend’s old stereo set.

Your legs are bare, swinging off the side of the bed as you peer up at him eagerly. The bottom half of your body donned nothing but a pair of soft cotton panties. The top half, one of Toby’s old shirts. You had stolen it awhile ago, made it yours by snipping off the collar so that it would hang loosely off your shoulder.

It’s warm in his room, and so your skin is flushed a soft pink tone - making you just seem to glow in the eyes of the man who stood before you.

Toby, is fully clothed. Baggy jeans with a torn and frayed sweater. Hair pushed off of his forehead by those goofy orange goggles he loved so much. His facial expression, is the real eye-catcher though.

Dark eyes that spark with something dangerous, half-hidden behind lust-heavy drooping lids. His lips are curved into a smirk that is nothing short of devious. When he leans closer, it widens into a toothy grin, sharp canines glinting in the low light.

He reaches down with his left hand, rough calloused fingers rubbing against your cheeks when he squishes your face into a pucker. You don’t need to ask to know he wants you to part your lips.

It’s made pretty obvious, by the pretty pink pill pinched between the fingers of his right hand.

How again, did you find yourself in this situation?

It started off innocently. A few nights when you had one too many shots, which left you leaning against Toby like an anchor - skin hot and breathing laboured as you pressed your face to the crook of his neck. So woozy you could barely stand, vision swimming, your body heavy as you laid your whole weight onto him.

A few nights when you had gotten rowdier, taking substances you’d giggle off when Toby asked about them. Things that made you bubblier, made you sway on your feet and laugh at jokes that were barely even funny. Things that made your pupils blow wide.

Things that made you crave Toby’s body like he was the addictive substance.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend was nothing if not a gentleman.

He had told himself, time and time again, that he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Wouldn’t break the trust of the woman he loved so dearly. Even when you were smearing sloppy kisses up his neck as your fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes. Even when your hand wandered lower, tugging at his belt impatiently as soft little whines left your lips.

But, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely adore you like that.

All strung out and hazy, eyes unfocused with pupils dilated - staring up at him like he was a god amongst men. Your slurred speech, lips glistening with drool and bitten raw. You were a vision, an absolute vision, and you were all his. Barely even conscious, and yet he was the one you always gravitated to. Never straying, only getting needier and needier the more he denied your inebriated advances.

Your lips would wrinkle into a pout, eyes shining with unshed tears as you pawed at his clothes. Hands clumsy and movements uncoordinated. He’d hold you upright on his lap, trying to feed some water into your parched mouth, and you’d ignore him. Much more inclined to desperately grind against his clothed crotch - soaked panties staining the front of his jeans with your slick.

You were so lovely like that. And so sensitive too. He barely had to even touch you to get a reaction. Brushing a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face elicited a whine, and gently gripping your waist to keep you upright had you arching into his touch.

It was like you went into heat. A scalding hot ball of desperation and desire, pressing up to him as close as you could get - like if you tried hard enough, you could phase through his clothes.

Was it so insane, that he found it incredibly provocative?

You turned into this lust-drunk little doll, with a one-track mind seemingly only focused on getting his dick out of his pants. You’d nip and bite at his skin, whine and plead to the point where tears would spring to your eyes - desperate to get off, because the heat between your legs was too much to bear. And, in your mind, he was the only cure.

Good. That’s what he should be.

It had quickly become harder and harder to bear each time it happened, his composure weakening and his desires mounting.

“T-Toby…” You had whined low in his ear one night, heat radiating off of you as you lazily rolled your hips against his lap. “I need it. You know I need it.”

“Oh, b-believe me. I know baby.” He had chuckled softly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hipbones as you rocked against him. You were dressed so pretty too, for the little social gathering the two of you were sat in the corner of. A low cut little tank top and a flowy skirt, so soft to the touch.

“Then why won’t ya’ give it to me?” Your words were slurred and soft, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you spoke. “I can feel it, you know. You’re so hard, I know you want it too.”

Of course you could. A man can only be so strong after all, so how else was he supposed to react with his scantily clad girlfriend desperately grinding against his lap? You were so warm too, your heat seeping into his skin, making his pulse skyrocket. He knew, that you’d let him do anything in the world to you right then, but he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t. He was better than that. “Just… Just let me sit on it. You don’t even gotta do anything.” Oh for fuck’s sake. “No one would notice.”

They sure as hell would. Because Toby knew, that the moment he sunk into your glorious pussy - which he knew was soaking wet and eager to take him - he wouldn’t be content with just letting you warm his cock. He’d want to fuck you proper, bounce your limp, drugged out body on his lap until you were cumming so hard it brought you to tears. Fuck you through it while he sucked on your pretty tits, seeing just how much you could take.

He would bet it was a lot. You’d probably just take it and take it, clinging to him as he clawed at your skin. Sinking into you over and over again, stretching you out around him - too dazed to tell him if it was too much.

He doubted anything would be too much for you in this state though.

But he couldn’t. Not without a heavy conscience.

“Not t-tonight, my love.” He had hummed back to you, deliberately ignoring how his cock throbbed with each roll of your hips. “I th-think you just need some wa-water.”

However, as he had said, he was only so strong. So naturally, it didn’t take him long to bring it up in conversation with you when you were sober.

“You ever n-notice how slutty you get when you’re o-off a pill?” It was such a scandalous question to be asked over breakfast, words partially muffled by the slice of toast he was shovelling into his mouth, and yet he couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to put it.

Besides, the look you had given him - completely taken aback, and maybe a little offended - was pretty funny, so he didn’t regret his choice of words one bit.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” You had snapped back at him, eyes narrowed as you pressed your elbows against the tabletop and leaned towards him.

“You h-heard me.” He snorted back to you, his expression delightfully amused with a playful eyebrow raised. Your defiant attitude was nothing but cute in his opinion. “You’re barely high ff-for an hour before you’re tryin’ to j-jump my bones.” He watched how your expression filed through a myriad of different emotions - shock, shame, embarrassment - as he took a sip of coffee. “Grinding on m-my dick like we’re the only two p-people in the room. You make such a ss-scene.”

“I…” You leaned back in your seat, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. But not as vibrant as they were when you were melting into him. “I do remember that.”

“And?” He laughed softly. “G-Got anything to say about it?”

You were silent for a few moments, nibbling your bottom lip between your teeth as your foot tapped impatiently against the wooden floor of his cabin. So flustered, he worried for a moment if he had taken things a step too far, but then you were muttering out;

“Why haven’t you ever indulged me?”

That, was how you ended up here. In Toby’s bedroom, your tongue sticking out of your mouth as your loving boyfriend placed a pill upon it.

Immediately, it started to dissolve when it met your saliva - a sight that Toby watched with a keen interest, the twisted grin never leaving his face as he took in the way it tinted your spit pink. “Y-You need water?” He asked softly, to which you shook your head before closing your mouth. “Good girl, then ss-swallow.”

You do, easily, without hesitation. Letting the drug slide down your throat as you locked eyes with the man above you. You’d think Toby was the one under the influence, with the way his pupils had blown out completely. Eyes fixated on you like you were the focal point of his entire universe, because right now - that’s exactly what you were. “That’s my g-girl.” He murmured, words dripping with nothing but adoration. “Now, we wait.” He pinched your cheek gently. “You w-wanna get comfy?”

Immediately, you’re nodding, your pulse already thumping rapidly in your chest. The effects of the drug hadn’t even started to take effect yet, but it was the anticipation that was making you antsy. Knowing that it was coming, slowly dissolving in your stomach and getting ready to circulate through your veins.

Toby gives you a sickeningly sweet smile before he’s joining you on the bed. He wraps his arms around you, gently tugging you down as he settles against the pillows placed against the headboard. You lounge against his chest, arms rested around his neck as you snuggle against him.

Your t-shirt rides high as you get comfortable, exposing the curve of your plush ass barely covered by those thin little panties. And… It’s tempting. So tempting that Toby’s fingers twitch where they’re resting on the small of your back, but he holds himself back. He can be patient. It’ll all be worth it if he just waits until the good part. “G-Gave you somethin’ Cody cooked up this t-time around.” He hums as he rubs gentle circles against your back. “He said it’ll make you f-feel real nice.”

“Yeah?” You ask softly, resting your cheek against his shoulder as you peer up at him. “He better have tested it first. I’m not trying to be one of his lab rats.”

Toby lets out a chuckle, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest - and you can feel the vibrations against your rib cage.

“‘Course he d-did.” He assured you softly, before leaning down to press a soft kiss against the crown of your head. “You really think I-I’d ever put you in danger?”

You knew he wouldn’t. There was a reason you were so inclined to get all sloppy and dazed around him. Because he kept you safe. He always kept you safe.

“No.” You murmur back to him as you relax into him more. You can feel your muscles starting to go lax, any lingering aches and pains from the stressors of the day melting away easily. It must be starting to kick in. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and let out a shaky sigh. “You’d never.”

“T-That’s right.” Toby breathes back to you. He can feel it as you start to melt into him, your heart thumping so rapidly in your chest that he can feel it against his own. “I-I’d kill him myself if he gave me s-somethin’ that might hurt you. He knows that t-too.”

Your eyes flutter as you press against him further. He’s so warm. So warm and he smells so good, it makes you feel dizzy every time you take a breath in. You lean up, rubbing your nose behind his ear and into his hair - drinking in the scent that had your whole body starting to heat up. He smelled like smoke and pine. Copper and tobacco. Each smell swirling together to create something that had you moaning softly as you inhaled it - your hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

There it is. Toby thinks to himself, his lips curling up into a smile as you start rubbing up onto him - your fingers shaky as they thread into his hair. “Y-You’re feeling it now, aren’t you, b-baby?” He asks lowly, squeezing your hip lightly with one hand as the other one moves upwards. “C’mon, l-look at me. Let me see that puh-pretty face.”

His other hand grasps your chin, gently tilting it upwards so that he can get a good look at you. And once he does, you leave him breathless.

Your pupils are practically swallowing your irises - like two black holes staring back at him as he looked down at you in awe. The flush you had been painted with had grown darker, a deep pink hue coating your cheeks and spreading down to your neck. You were practically panting, breathing laboured breaths through your mouth that quivered on exhale. “Ah, l-look at you.”

Toby’s hand slides up your jaw before he’s cupping your face tenderly, a look of absolute adoration in his eyes as he gazes at the spaced out look taking over your eyes. “Hah-“ He breathes out, before his hand drifts higher, using two fingers to open your eye wider. “Y-Your pupils are so big…”

When your response is nothing but a pitiful little whine, his heart rate kicks up a notch. “Oh, wow.” He murmurs. “Th-This is really the good ss-stuff, huh?” His hand trails back down your face, and you lean into his touch almost mindlessly. “How’re you feelin’, puh-pretty girl?”

“Dizzy.” You slur softly, your vision starting to swim as you try and focus on the sight of Toby’s face. Also, when did it get so hot in here? With barely any clothing on, you were still burning up - sweat starting to moisten your skin as your breathing grew ragged. “I… I feel dizzy.”

“D-Dizzy, good?” Toby asks, and then the hand on your waist starts to wander, slipping further down to graze against the curve of your ass. “Or dizzy, b-bad?” His palm splays against one cheek, and god now he feels so cool in comparison to you. You feel like you’re slowly being set on fire, and Toby’s touch - it feels like ice against your clammy skin. It’s so soothing, so good, you can’t help but arch into him.

“Dizzy… Good.” You mumble, before you’re nudging your face out of his grip. Back into the crook of your neck, you move, then parting your lips to drag your tongue against the skin there. And oh, he tastes like heaven. So much so that you let out a shaky moan that vibrates against his neck, before your hands are clawing upwards so that you can get push yourself even closer. “You… You taste good.” Your words are slurred and partially muffled, but they ring in his ears. “So good.”

“Yeah?” Toby lets out an amused little chuckle as his fingers sink into the cushy soft flesh they had been spread against - giving your ass a soft squeeze that only proves to rile you up further. “H-How good?”

“Really-“ Your fingers curl into his hair and tug, drawing him closer as your lips move against his neck - so sloppy, smearing spit against him with every touch. “Really fuckin’ good. God-“ The best way to describe it would be to say that you felt like you were drowning, or maybe… you were set on fire. Both? It was hard to even accurately determine what the hell you were feeling right then, all you knew was that every single sense of yours seemed to be working on overdrive.

Your skin was buzzing, tingling with desire every time it touched his. You could hear every little sound he made, from the rhythmic thump of his heart beat to the shaky little huffs of breath leaving his lips. The taste of his skin was somehow the sweetest thing that had ever graced your tongue. He smelled like his natural scent had been created just to make your head spin. And the way he looked right now was a whole different story.

You force yourself to pull your head out of the crook of his neck so that you can look at him, and your breathing just grows shakier. Practically panting as you stare down at him, this marvel of a man - his hair splayed against the pillows behind his head, the goggles nestled within them falling onto his forehead slowly. Everything about him just seemed so much more vibrant, more enticing. From the way he licked his dry lips and left them glistening, to how his eyes were roaming the sight of you appreciatively.

He looked like he could just devour you. And you wanted that. You wanted that bad. “Toby…” You whine softly, leaning in closer as your hands fist into the front of his hoodie. It’s hard to think proper, even harder to form words - and so you’re left pitifully clawing at his clothes whilst pressing your forehead to his. Breathing hot and heavy against his face, your eyes clouded over as you gaze down at him.

He raises an eyebrow at you playfully, and he’s not getting the hint as quickly as you need him to. Maybe that’s on purpose. Regardless, his nonchalant attitude quickly twists you into a knot. You tug at the collar of his sweater impatiently, your hands clumsy as you let out a soft disgruntled mewl. You need this stupid fabric off now. Needed more of his skin on yours. Needed him to cool you down before you burst into flames.

With how your vision was already swimming, you don’t even notice when frustrated tears begin building up in your eyes - but Toby does instantly.

“H-Hey, shh…” He hushes you softly the moment those sweet tears start to build, bringing his hand up to gently cup your cheek. You lean into it immediately, eagerly drinking up the feeling of his skin against yours. It’s so soft, so grounding. Everything that you need right now. “There’s no n-need to start cryin’ a-already. Just gotta t-tell me what you need.”

He knew what you needed. It was pretty damn obvious. But, he wanted to hear you say it. And besides, the way you were slurring and stumbling over your words right now was downright adorable. It was like you were melting in his hands.

You take in a few gasping breaths, trying to steady your breathing but doing so in vain, before you part your lips. Normally, when you’re under the influence your mouth is dryer than a desert, but whatever the hell Cody gave you had the exact opposite effect. You can feel drool pooling in your mouth, and when you try to speak some of it comes dripping out - hitting the front of Toby’s sweater and staining it.

A sight that immediately had Toby’s cock jumping. He made a mental note to give that lab freak a sincere ‘thank you’ after all of this was over. You slurp up the excess saliva threatening to spill over again and swallow it down, before you’re finally managing out a few shaky words.

“I need this off.” You breathe as you tug at his sweater again to further enunciate your point. “Pants too.” You add, all shyness lost of you as you struggle to keep a clear head. “Need you naked.”

Toby cracks a grin, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. You were so fucking cute like this. Your usual filter completely gone, not caring how desperate you sounded if it meant you would get him inside you sooner. His thumb hooks into your mouth, then it’s stretching your lips as he tugs your cheek to the side to expose your teeth. Immediately, drool starts dripping down his thumb before sliding down his wrist and dirtying the sleeve of his sweater.

“S-Such a mess.” He murmurs softly, his words completely awestruck. You’re just bending to his will so easily, letting him push and pull you into whatever he saw fit. It seemed like just the feeling of his skin alone was just taking you higher, if the way you melted into his touch was anything to go by. “You want me t-to fuck you that b-bad?”

“Yes-“ You immediately gasp out. And just the idea of that being a possibility has the heat you’re coated in spiking to a suffocating degree. It’s searing across your skin, travelling down and settling deep in your gut. Down further, it makes your cunt throb, already dampening the material of your panties and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please.”

And Toby knows it. He can tell by the way you’ve started pathetically rutting against him, your hips chasing any sort of stimulation to placate you. His poor girl was burning up. He’d bet you were just dying for it.

“Yeah?” He whispers, his voice low and gravelly - the sound seemingly fine tuned to resonate deep in the pit of your stomach. “Sh-Should I find out if you’re r-ready for it?”

He brings his free arm down to wedge between your two bodies, making sure to drag his hand across your abdomen the whole way down. You arch into it, gasping at the slightest touch, but it’s when his fingers meet the fabric of your underwear that you completely jolt. Your hips immediately kick forwards, trying to speed up the process of getting him where you need him most. “You’re ss-so impatient.” Toby chuckles darkly. “Is it r-really that bad?”

It’s only seconds later that he answers his own question. He wastes no time slipping his hand below the waist line of your panties, fingers dipping into your folds. When he does, even he can’t help but gasp. You’re absolutely soaked. Dripping with slick that coats his fingers upon contact.

Toby can feel you throb under his touch, your clit already so swollen and desperate - so hot, he can feel the heat completely radiating off of you. “Oh, it is.” He murmurs out, his voice growing hoarser by the minute. He rubs you gently, not dipping inside you yet, just spreading around all the slick that was leaking out of you. He catches your clit between two fingers and pinches it lightly, an action that had you completely crumpling.

You choke out the most delicious noise Toby’s ever heard you produce, wetting his hoodie with saliva as you press your head against his chest with a mouth hung agape. “Oh, p-poor baby.” He coos gently, unable to help the sly grin on his face as he starts working you over with slow gentle circles of his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to satisfy you, he knows that, but the way you squirm and cry to try and get more is just so lovely. “Why d-don’t you tell me how bad you n-need it?”

It’s a cruel ask right now. You’re gasping out mindless babble against his chest, fingers curling into his sweater so tight he’s convinced you might just rip it. Your eyes are so far away and foggy, it doesn’t look like you have a single thought bouncing around in the pretty little head of yours.

Just from his fingers too. Just from his fingers playing with your clit. He hadn’t even sunk them into you yet.

God, you were a dream.

“T-Toby-“ You slur out, eyes drooping as you roll your hips back to meet his movements - grinding against his fingers to add the pressure he was refusing to give you. “I need it. I can’t-“ The heat was starting to mount, the knot in your stomach tying so tight it made your thighs quiver. “Anything. Just give me anything. Please.”

“Anything?” Toby raises an eyebrow. He can feel the way you’re starting to shake, brows pinching together as your little moans grow higher in pitch. Already so close. Just one of many for the night. “So, I c-can just fuck you with my fingers then? Th-That would satisfy you?”

“No.” You cry, your voice so desperate and whiny it made his chest tighten. His pants were even tighter though, a fact that he had been choosing to ignore up until now just to give you his undivided attention. If he was being honest, he could probably cum just from watching you. Watching how you melted into a delicious puddle of drool and tears.

“You said a-anything.” He laughs softly, absolutely enamoured with your pitiful state. He could keep you like this forever. Keep you teetering on the edge as you begged for him with tears clinging to your lashes.

“Mean.” You whine softly. You’re still rutting against him, soaking his hand with your essence, and you’re so close. You just need a little more. “You’re so mean.”

“I g-guess I am.” He hums back to you, so sickly amused by the display in front of him. His free hand trails down your neck before cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt. “I’m the one who g-got you so fucked up. I should p-probably be nicer, hm?”

“Please.” You slur out again, your expression wrinkled with pleasure as you gasp against his chest. The way he’s grasping your tit is rough, almost painful, but it’s just what you need right now. So mind-numbingly good, the way all of these sensations are playing against one another.

“Alright, a-alright.” Toby chuckles softly. To be honest, he’s really only conceding because he’s getting impatient. He can practically smell the arousal wafting off of you in waves, and he thinks he might just combust if he doesn’t get himself buried in your quivering body as soon as possible.

But first, he’s got to make you cum. Which, is an almost laughably easy task right now.

All it takes is a little more pressure, and a little more speed. Rubbing tight circles against your swollen bud, pinching your nipple softly with his other hand.

And just like that, you’re melting.

You practically sob into his chest, clawing at his shoulders as your whole body trembles from the force of your orgasm. He can feel the warmth of it against his fingers as more slick gushes out of you, making a mess out of you both. “There you g-go.” He whispers in your ear softly, still rolling gentle circles against you to guide you through the waves of pleasure.

Only once you start whining as drawing your hips back from the sensitivity, does he relent. But, not for long.

Your world spins in an array of blurred shapes and colours when he grabs you by the waist and flips you both around. So dazed, you barely even realize what’s happened until you feel him nestling between your thighs - the bulge in his jeans pressing eagerly up against your sopping wet cunt. “You can still t-take more, right?”

The question more so swims around your ears than actually enters them, his voice sounding far away and foggy. So, it takes you a few moments to reply - too focused on the sight you’re greeted with when your eyes lift to try and focus on his face.

He’s brought his hand, shining with your release, up to his face. Then, he’s licking it clean. One finger after another, sucking up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest nectar.

“Y-Yeah.” You choke out, sinking into the sheets below you as you part your legs further. Giving him ample access to everything he could possibly want.

“Though ss-so.” He hums softly, before finally - finally - tugging his sweater off of his torso. Immediately, your eyes feast on the sight. His lean but muscular body, littered with scars that only added to the appeal. His hand reaches for the buckle of his belt, which directs your gaze down lower, and just the sight of his happy trail has your mouth watering all over again.

You watch in a daze as his fingers languidly undo his belt, clearly not in a rush - but you definitely were. Despite cumming once you’re still aching, still burning, still needing him more than you ever have before. “Hah, you’re drooling a-again.” Toby snickers as he tugs the belt from its loops and drops it to the ground. The button of his jeans gets popped next, and then comes his zipper. “Is there e-even a thought in that pretty h-head anymore?” He starts tugging his jeans down his hips. “Besides dick, I m-mean.”

Short answer? No. Your mind was wiped clean, then filled with nothing but thoughts of how badly you needed him to stuff you full. How you needed to fuck you to tears, how much you wanted to feel his cum flood your cunt. But, you’re a little too compromised to say that, so instead you just mutter;

“Nuh uh.” And it’s the cutest thing Toby’s ever heard. He was so fucking in love with you it hurt, and especially now. With this brainless little doll sprawled out on the sheets below him, your eyes bleary and your cheeks stained with tear tracks.

He kicks his jeans off in record time, and then your shirt comes next. It’s off even quicker, tossed off to some far corner of the room. You wouldn’t be needing it any time soon. Then, he just takes a moment to really look at you.

Limbs near limp and heavy, skin flushed all the way down to your stomach. Your tits heave with every gasping breath you take, nipples perked up so prettily. Down lower, he notes how tense your abdomen is, then lower where the insides of your thighs glisten with the mess that seeped out of your core.

“F-Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.” He breathes as his eyes roam you appreciatively. They drift back to your face, and he cracks a grin before letting out a soft hum of contemplation.

Then, he reaches up into his own hair, snagging the goggles that were still resting there. He tugs them off, and just moments later he’s leaning down to place them on your own head - nestling them within the sweat slick stands. “Ah, ss-so cute.” He chuckles softly, before gently nudging your chin. “My girl. A-Ain’t that right?”

You give him a shaky nod, breathing out heavy huffs of breath through your mouth as you watch his other hand reach downwards. You’re not really in the state of mind to put two and two together, but when you feel his cock slap against your thigh just moments later - it’s made pretty clear that he was tugging his boxers off. “And I’m g-gonna give my girl what she w-wants.”

His hands roam down the expanse of your body, leaving tingling trails in their wake before one comes to settle on your waist. Giving you a nice form squeeze. The other one, far too impatient now, doesn’t even tug your panties off fully. Just tugs them to the side, revealing your mesmerizing core. “Gonna f-fuck you dumber than you already a-are right now.” You feel it when he grinds his length against you, sliding against your heat, getting all nice and lubed up with your slick. It a sensation that makes your thighs quiver, back arching when the head of his cock catches on your clit. “W-Want me to stretch you out f-first? Or do you think you c-can take it?”

“I can take it.” You answer immediately, absolutely intoxicated by the feeling of having him so close. So close to giving you just what you need. At this point, it doesn’t matter to you if it hurts, you may just start crying if you’re not stuffed full in the next coming moments.

Toby had expected that answer. But actually hearing it makes his cock throb against you.

“Th-That’s what I thought.” He hums, and if you weren’t such a cock-drunk mess you might’ve slapped him for how arrogant he looked. But with your brain feeling so gooey, there was no room for annoyance in your head. Only white hot lust, bordered by the absolute adoration you held for the man above you.

The love struck daze you’re swimming in only grows more potent when you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in, gentle (for now) even though his entire body is just screaming at him to plunge into you completely. Because, fuck, how is it that you’ve never felt better?

So tight, but so relaxed. Your walls eagerly sucking him in, wrapping each inch he sunk into you with velvety warmth. He could feel you pulse around him, just tensing around him more the deeper he got. It’s heavenly. To the point where by the time he’s fully seated, his breathing is just as ragged as yours.

With hazy vision Toby’s gaze catches on the sight of it - his cock completely swallowed up by your welcoming cunt, dripping slick down onto him and he hadn’t even moved yet. It’s the sound of a soft whine that has his eyes snapping up to your face.

Your brows are pinched together, mouth hung agape as you gasp for breath - fingers curled into the bedsheets beneath you, gripping on for dear life. You’re such a damn mess, and he’s barely even gotten started. It’s an exhilarating sight. “F-Feels good?” He asks softly as he nudges his hips forwards just a bit more, nestling into you as far as he could. “This what you n-needed?”

That was an understatement. He made you feel whole again. His cock sinking into you like a puzzle piece falling into place. Stretching you out just right, pressed so deep it made your thighs tremble. Barely able to form words, you let out an absolutely pitiful sound in response. A needy whine, sounding gargled as excess saliva pooled in your mouth.

Your heart is racing in your chest, possibly to a worrying degree, but you don’t care. How could you, when you feel so incredibly good? It’s the type of pleasure that makes your head spin, makes your whole body buzz as you lie beneath him.

Then, the most glorious thing happens.

Toby feels it happen before he watches you crumble apart for the second time. Your walls tense around him to a maddening degree, before your whole body is wracked with ecstasy so intense it couldn’t be put into words. Cumming for the second time, clawing at the sheets beneath you, just from the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you. He hadn’t even moved. He didn’t need to. You had been so hungry for it that the moment he fulfilled your desires, you were coming undone like a sweater with a loose string.

“H-Holy fuck.” Toby gasps out, fingernails biting into your hips as you tremble beneath him. Your pussy contracting and relaxing around him to a rhythmic beat, trying in earnest to milk him dry even though he had barely even started. And man, how in the hell is he supposed to hold back after that? “I sh-should get you like this more often.” He’s muttering, before drawing his hips back.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust. In his opinion, you’re well past warmed up. So when he’s sinking back into you again it’s in a quick, fluid motion. Burying himself back into your heat completely, then doing it again and again and again.

The pace he picks up is relentless. Fast snaps of his hips that make your whole body jolt. So pliant in his arms, you can to do nothing but take it - sliding back and forth on the sheets every time he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

You’d swear you could feel him in your fucking lungs. You can barely breathe. Choking out moans and sobs as drool drips down your chin. It’s too much, not enough, and everything all at once. Making your already fuzzy mind feel hazier, unable to think past the feeling of his cock sliding against your convulsing walls.

In all honestly, you felt like you were floating. Your whole body feeling light and loose. The only thing that was really keeping you grounded, was the feeling of Toby’s calloused fingers pressing deep into your hips.

And in Toby’s eyes, you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s captivated by absolutely everything about you. How your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, letting the more gorgeously wrecked sounds bounce of the walls of his bedroom. The sight of your skin rippling every time his hips smack against yours. Your sweat frizzed hair, sticking to your forehead and fanning out against the pillow beneath you.

The goggles he had placed on you were slipping further and further down with each brutal thrust, and it’s such an endearing visual. Not to mention, the way you feel.

Your pussy is heavenly, and if he had the choice, he’d never stop fucking you. So hot and tight, velvety walls clinging to him like you never wanted to let him go. It’s almost primal, the way his mind goes blissfully blank - focused on nothing but the need to pump your desperate cunt full of his cum until you’re dripping with it. Then, he’d fuck it right back into you.

“Th-This what you’ve been wanting?” He pants out, before leaning down low to press his face into the crook of your sweat-slick neck. You smell so incredibly good too, and when he parts his lips you taste even better. He’d almost be worried that maybe the drug was somehow rubbing off on him, but that wasn’t even it and he knew it. You were just addictive. You were his drug. “W-Wanted me to get you all drugged up and d-dumb, so I could fuck you like the s-slut you are?”

His words are harsh, but he breathes them out in the most infatuated tone you’ve ever heard. So mean, but so sweet all at the same time. Because he loved you like this. Barely coherent, just a heap of filthy desires, but you were all his. You trusted him to have you like this. Because you knew he’d treat you right.

He always treated you right.

When his teeth sink into your neck, you’re arching up into him immediately. It hurts, of course it does with those uncannily sharp canines of his, but it hurts in the most delicious way. Breaking through the waves of pleasure with a piercing ache, the contrast sending you reeling. Your heavy arms somehow find the will to lift, just so that you can grasp onto him - nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. “Th-There you are.” He murmurs once he releases your skin from his teeth. “Was wondering w-when you were gonna bring out the claws.”

His hands slip down lower, under the curve of your ass, each palm splaying against a cheek and spreading you open wider. His stamina - ever enviable - never faltered, his cock railing into you at that same merciless speed. Like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into the innermost parts of you, leaving his mark on you indefinitely. “Y-You feel so fuckin’ good.” You hear his breathless voice in your ear. “S-So good, baby. Y-You were made for me, y’know that?”

“Uh huh.�� You’re gasping back to him, hiccuping out the words with a great deal of struggle. You’re far too focused on the fact that you can feel that heat building up again, just growing in intensity every time the head of his cock pressed against your gspot. You rake your nails down his back, with enough pressure to leave angry red streaks by the morning. Maybe even enough to draw blood.

That was alright, it wasn’t like he could feel it anyway. All he could feel was the pressure of you clinging onto him, with a desperation that made his thrusts falter.

“Y-You’re close again, aren’t you?” He huffs out against your neck. “Hah, f-fuck you’re amazing. I could fuck this pussy for d-days.”

You’d let him, and he knew that too. “Go on, g-give me one more.”

Like you were under a spell, the coil snaps at the sound of his voice. And this time, it hits you even harder than the others. You would swear you completely blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back as your cunt gushed all over him. Even more so, when he just kept fucking you right through it. “J-Jesus fuck-“

It was a feeling Toby would never be able to even begin to describe. How beautifully your body responded to him, hot sticky release coating his cock and pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice, and you- Well, you looked exactly like he wanted you to be.

Fucked dumb. Eyes glazed over as tears roll down your cheeks, drool smeared against your skin and bubbling in the corners of your mouth as you choke out sobs and cries. You were beautiful. So, agonizingly beautiful. “A-Ah, you’re gone aren’t you?” He reaches up and gently slaps your cheek, a feeling that just makes you let out a little mewling sound. “S-So cute.”

He curls his body over yours, pressing your thighs up until they’re nearly touching your chest, and he goes to town. Chasing his release, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing loudly off the walls. If he could, he’d hold back, keep you like this until you could both barely move - but well, he is still just only human.

So, he really can’t help it when he’s tumbling over the edge mere moments later. Once, twice, three times his hips meet yours before he’s pressing in deep - nestling right up against your cervix before he’s spilling into you.

You feel the heat of his cum flooding your cunt. How he pumps you so full that it starts gushing out as he lazily thrusts into you. Making you drip with it, just like he wanted to.

And it feels good. So good. A satisfying warmth spreading within you, marking you his from the inside out.

Even once he’s sated, he stays nestled deep within you. His arms wrap around your limp body, pulling you up and close to his chest whilst his cock slowly softens. “S-So good for me.” He murmurs breathlessly, pressing his face into your hair and taking in a shaky gasp of air. “I love you ss-so much.”

“Love you too.” You manage out, though it’s a chore to even open your mouth right now. You feel so incredibly drained, your whole body may as well have been sinking through the mattress with how heavy it felt.

It’s no surprise, when you find yourself drifting to sleep just moments later.

And when you finally wake up again, things are noticeably different. You’re sore, still shaky, and still so incredibly tired - but you’re cleaned up now.

Skin wiped pristine, hair pulled up into a haphazard bun, an oversized t-shirt hanging off of your body. You’re… Confused, to say the least. Considering that the last time you were conscious, you were still stuffed with Toby’s cock.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes, and bring a hand up to rub them, trying to ignore the headache you could feel creeping up on you.

Then, the bedroom door creaks open, and all of your questions are answered.

“H-Hey, baby. Finally awake?” Toby walks into the room with a glass of water in hand, still bare save for the baggy sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He makes his way over to you with a soft smile on his face, before he’s standing right before you. “How’re you f-feelin’?”

He reaches down, gently brushing a few pieces of hair out of your eyes, the look of love in his eyes so potent it was palpable.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” You answer back honestly, your voice still hoarse. You clear your throat a few times, before continuing. “My whole body’s sore.”

Toby lets out a little hum of acknowledgment as he trails his fingers down the side of your face. Though, you can tell he’s not the least bit sorry about it.

“Sore… Bad?” He murmurs. “Or, ss-sore, good?”

And you just can’t help but let out a little huff of laughter.

“Sore, good.”

—————————————————————————☆

hello lovely people <3

This was an absolute joy to write tbh I love it when toby’s a mean little shit

I’m gonna try and pump out a few asks while editing my big fic yaaaaay

thank you for reading!

#toby rogers #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #toby rogers smut #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x female reader #ticci toby smut #crp #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta hcs

929 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 7 months ago

Text

girl, so confusing | f1

an: this is SADLY the last part :( don’t worry, i do plan on writing more fics for the f1 dilf!! here’s your long awaited reveal on the baby daddy lol made this one extra long for y’all <3 enjoy!!

part 1 part 2

faceclaim gisele bündchen

liked by ynstyle, goss1pformulas and others

f1gossiproom could mark webber be the father? recently former red bull and williams drivers, mark and y/n have been spending time together. the pair were spotted having dinner several times and a source confirmed that webber attended y/n’s daughter’s recital! they were once again spotted out in australia spending time in bondi beach with y/n’s daughter (not pictured to protect her privacy) they were soon joined by friends and webber’s family. a source, who wishes to remain anonymous, saw them and said y/n’s daughter, gemma, and mark were bonding as if they were dad and daughter 👀 he even calls her ‘gem’ and ‘gemmy’! what do you think? is mark webber the real father? we certainly think so!

formulaho3 how about just leave them alone?

roscoesno1fan mark looks like a total dilf in that pic so yes

oscarspastry what if the real father is the friends we made along the way?

webberxvettel i need to know the truth before i die

hamiltonsmerecedes not f1 twitter trying to cancel y/n for getting with their faves 😭

lnwhores i stand by my cancelled wife

myhonestbitchface and when y/n reveals that sebastian is the bd then what 🤨 i feel it in my gut 👀 that german bitch is the bd

blackwidowswife bitch you’re just hungry

load more comments

THE PADDOCK SESSIONS has posted a new YouTube video!

Italics = voiceover by y/n

“Hello!” Y/n’s daughter, Gemma, opened the door to Dan. She knew that he was going to film an interview with her mother about her racing career. She watched as Dan’s camera man waved to her. She assumed they had already started filming.

“Gemma hates and loves when I’m away. She stays with her grandparents when I have to leave or if her dad is not busy then they’ll be together. I think she loves it because her dad lets her have ice cream before bed. I’m more of a strict parent between me and him.”

Photos of little Gemma appear on screen. The young girl was picture with her mother on her first birthday, then with Mark and family members then Sebastian and Jenson.

Dan entered Y/n’s London home with Gemma by his side. He spotted Y/n making tea. “Got here just in time.” He laughed as he joined the former driver in the kitchen.

“I hope the flight here wasn’t too bad.” Y/n passed a mug over to Dan.

“Slept my way through it,” before Dan could take a sip from his tea, he noticed the mug that he was given. It had ‘best dad ever’ sloppily written in paint. “Cute.” He held the mug up and smiled.

“Yeah, Gemma made it for her dad last year for Father’s Day.” Y/n smiled proudly at her daughter’s creation.

That’s when Gemma joined the conversation. “But I couldn’t give it to him on actual Father’s Day! He was away racing and couldn’t be here so I had to give it to him later.” She explained.

After the pair finished their tea, they walked together to Y/n’s small garden. There she had a little seating area where the rest of the interview would take place.

“Lovely garden.” Dan commented.

“Thank you, although I won’t take all the credit. Sebastian comes to help, Gemma kind of bosses him around telling him where each flower looks best.” Y/n laughed, setting her mug on the glass table.

“Dad loves the flowers I picked out for the garden.” Gemma pointed out as she joined them outside. As Dan started the interview, Gemma kept playing outside with her toys.

More images of a young Y/n flashed on screen. She was driving for Williams at the time, they were her first ever team.

“Williams was my first home. They were nice to me, but they put so much pressure on me to perform, like every race had to be perfect. And when it wasn’t, you could feel the disappointment, like a weight hanging in the air. I’d go back to my hotel room at night, and it was just me and the silence.”

The video showed a clip of young Y/n in the Williams garage getting ready for her debut race. She noticed the camera then smiled and waved. The video then cuts to from a happy, full of life Y/n to a gloomy, quiet Y/n sitting alone in her garage.

“I didn’t have friends in the paddock back then. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and the people around me—the trainers, the engineers—they all kept their distance. One of my trainers actually told me, ‘I’m not here to be your friend; I’m here to work.’ And that’s when I realized I was completely on my own."

Y/n then looked over her shoulder and saw Gemma using a teddy bear that her father had bought the girl for her birthday last year in Germany. The former driver smiled at the memory of her little family spending a special day together.

Back to the interview, Y/n then talked to Dan about her divorce. It was a dark time for her. She had been young when she said ‘I Do’ to a man she thought was the love of her life. At the time of her marriage, her husband was six years older. She was nineteen at the time, about to turn twenty.

Several headlines from the day her marriage was announced appeared on screen.

“Barely an Adult, Already a Wife: Y/N Marries Six Years Her Senior”

“Y/N’s Whirlwind Marriage: Chasing Love, Not Podiums?”

“Teenage Racer’s Rush to the Altar: Desperate for Love or Just Immature?”

“Is Y/N Looking for Validation in All the Wrong Places?”

“‘She’ll Marry Anyone’: Critics Slam Y/N’s Hasty Decision at Just 19”

"They painted me as some kind of desperate girl who couldn’t handle being alone. The truth was, I was 19, scared, and in love—or at least I thought I was. But that didn’t matter to them. They just wanted to sell papers."

Dan then spoke. “What led to the divorce?”

Y/n sighed deeply. Only a few people knew the real reason. “It’s . . . a complicated thing to talk about. I mean, when you’re nineteen and in love, or what you think is love, you don’t always see the red flags. At the time, I thought I’d found someone who believed in me, who would support me no matter what. But as time went on, I realized that wasn’t the case."

A picture of Y/n getting ready by herself on her wedding day appears on screen. Her family were not present as her husband at the time wanted it to be only them. She smiled brightly at the camera as her photo was taken. The image fades then clips of Y/n racing in the early 2000s play.

“He wanted a family. Kids, a house, the whole thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but he wanted it then, right when my career was just beginning. He gave me an ultimatum—racing or him."

Dan lightly gasped at her words. “Oh . . .”

“I chose racing. How could I not? It was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d dreamed of. But he didn’t take it well. He made me feel like I was selfish, like I was throwing away a chance at a ‘real’ life."

Several more images of Y/n and her then husband flash on screen. There’s no photos of him attending races, mostly because he thought racing was dumb and didn’t like loud crowds.

“He didn’t trust me. Whenever I was away at races, he’d insist I call him every single day, sometimes multiple times. If I missed a call because I was in a meeting or debrief, he’d accuse me of . . . things. Things that weren’t true. I couldn’t even have a normal conversation with my trainer or my team principal without worrying about how he’d react."

"There were times I wanted to visit my family, to go home and just breathe. But he’d make me feel so guilty for even thinking about it, like I was abandoning him. So I stopped trying."

The screen cuts back to Y/N on the sofa. Her hands are clasped tightly now, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of emotion.

“And then the divorce was final and for a moment I was happy until he went to the media spreading all sorts of lies.” Y/n added.

Several more magazine headlines appear on screen.

“The Truth About Y/N: Ex-Husband Reveals Why Their Marriage Failed”

“‘She Wanted the World to Love Her, Not Me’: Y/N’s Ex Speaks Out”

“‘All She Cared About Was Fame’: Y/N’s Ex-Husband Speaks Out About Their Divorce”

Then the screen cuts to clips of Y/n’s ex husband being interviewed about their marriage.

“I sacrificed so much to support her career, but she couldn’t give me the one thing I wanted: a family. She was too busy chasing the cameras and the glory.”

“It was rough. Instead of being asked about racing, I was asked about my failed marriage.” Y/n recalled all the times during interviews when her ex-husband’s name was mentioned. “I just wanted to go home a cry, but I had a job to do. But of course the attention I was getting got me fired.”

“How were you told you were no longe driving for Williams?” Dan asked.

“Would you believe it if I said it was a ten second phone call from Claire Williams?” Y/n laughed. “Claire and I were never enemies. A few days after I got her call, she had dinner in my house and explained to me that she didn’t want to be the one to call me, but she was pressured to. Apparently the Williams team thought it was best for her to tell me in a phone call because they thought it would be ‘easier’ if the news came from her, since she’s a woman. They thought it would hurt less coming from her. Can you believe that?"

Dan noticed how Y/n laughed at the mention of the famous ten second phone call.

“It was definitely ridiculous of them. But they didn’t understand how humiliating it was either way. But Claire . . . I could tell she hated it. She ended the call so quickly because she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want me to be dropped from the team."

A photo showed of Claire Williams talking to Y/n before a race. At the time, Y/n didn’t know it, but Claire was her only friend.

“I don’t blame her for how it happened. She was caught in the middle of a decision that wasn’t hers to make. And honestly, her coming to my house afterward to explain—that meant something. It didn’t fix anything, but it showed she cared." Y/n finished drinking her tea then resumed speaking. “That ten-second call changed everything for me. But at least I know it wasn’t Claire’s choice. It was just . . . Williams being Williams."

“After everything that happened with Williams, you had every reason to step away from the sport. But instead, you joined McLaren. Looking back now, would you say that was the decision that changed everything for the better?" Dan questioned. He watched as her face softened. She truly adored her time with mclaren.

Y/n nodded. “Joining McLaren felt like a fresh start, like a second chance to prove what I was capable of. At Williams, I was just surviving. But at McLaren, I got to thrive."

Clips of Y/n during her time with the mclaren team played. Her smile was genuine and she looked happier than ever.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep racing. I didn’t know if I could trust another team. But McLaren . . . they believed in me in a way no one else had."

"It wasn’t just about the racing, though. McLaren gave me a second chance, not just at my career, but at myself. It reminded me why I fell in love with this sport in the first place."

“And then came those three idiots.” Y/n laughed when she remembered becoming friends with Mark, Jenson and Sebastian. Her cheeks tinting slightly, but her smile stays steady.

“But with that friendship came negative comments. I remember reading articles calling you horrible names just for having friendships with them.” Dan commented.

“Those negative comments still come my way even after many years,” Y/n added. “I stayed away from social media for that same reason until recently.”

“But with sharing your life on social media also came questions about your daughters life as well.”

Y/n knew it was something that was going to come up in the interview. Dan didn’t want to ask, but Y/n wanted to share. Gemma’s father and her had discussed it before and they both agreed to the interview.

“Yeah, the whole ‘who’s the father?’ thing has taken over every social media app i have. I can’t avoid it, especially when people constantly message me about it.” Y/n spoke. “Jenson thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Jenson?” Dan questioned.

“Yeah, he sent me a meme about it comparing us to Mamma Mia. I sent it to Sebastian and he sent it to Mark.”

The remainder of the interview, Y/n talked about her family she shared with the man who endlessly supported through everything. Every time she talked about him, she smiled brightly. It was clear that she loved him and their daughter more than anything.

As the video came to an end, Gemma was seen running towards someone who was out of frame. “Dad’s home!” Gemma jumped into his arms and hugged him.

“I thought you were flying in next week.” Y/n stood up to hug him.

“I come here to surprise you and Gem and this is how I’m treated?” He placed a kiss on Y/n’s temple, still holding onto Gemma. “Sorry, I definitely interrupted you two, haven’t I?”

“It’s alright, Jenson. We were just wrapping things up.”

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, wagstyle and others

f1gossip after finally revealing the identity of her daughter’s father, y/n and her daughter gemma were seen together in a beach in california 👀 jenson button also lives in california so we’re thinking the button family is spending some time together.

vettelsbees GIRL SEB WAS SPOTTED AT LAX

hamiltonsmercedes AND MARK

nicorosbergisadiva WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

landonorris hey i know her

ferraridepressionclub ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEE

webbertears what do you know you gremlin

load more comments

“Can I have money for ice cream?” Gemma ran up to her parents, Mark and Sebastian. The former drivers were all enjoying the sunshine of California, an idea that came from Gemma. She had been the one to call Mark and Sebastian to join her and her parents. They agreed even if they cancelled their plans with friends. They would literally do anything for the young girl.

Without hesitation, all the men took out their wallets and took out money for the girl. Their actions caused both Gemma and Y/n to laugh.

“Okay, thank you.” She gladly took the money from each of them.

“I’ll go with you, Gemmy,” Mark said as he got up from his spot and took Gemma’s hand in his. Together they walked to the ice cream stand.

“Has Claire called you?” Sebastian wondered. Ever since the interview was posted, the Williams team had posted several posts of Y/n when she was driving for them. They were finally acknowledging her wins and podiums. And of course they received some criticism from fans.

“She messaged me letting me know she watched the interview. She’s happy I did it.” Y/n replied.

“We all are. You should’ve done the interview years ago.” Jenson said.

Y/n only nodded and turned her attention to Mark and Gemma. The girl had always been close to both the German and Australian drivers, how couldn’t she when they had been in her mothers life and now they were in hers.

“Gemma asked if she could go to a race, but she wants you all to be there.” Y/n spoke up. Gemma desperately wanted the three men to join her. Y/n knew they would all say yes immediately.

“Did she say which one?” Sebastian asked.

“She said she wants to go to each of your home races.” Y/n grinned as Jenson immediately said he was in. Sebastian laughed then nodded. Of course they would join Gemma, the girl had them all wrapped around her finger.

“And will you be attending too?” Jenson winked at her. “We could do a repeat of what happened after Australia.”

“Funny, I was about to suggest the same thing but it happened in Canada.” Sebastian teased.

“Well weren’t you a busy woman.” Jenson smirked. “And Mark?”

Y/n kept quiet, innocently sipping her lemonade. After setting her drink down, the former drivers waited for her answer. “If you must know . . . We were in Vegas.”

Jenson groaned. “I was thinking Monaco.”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 driver!reader #sv5 x reader #mw2 x reader #jb22 x reader

828 notes · View notes

mxnhoo · 7 months ago

Text

like you! (n. rk)

synopsis your bestfriend that you've always bickered with suddenly.. starts to appear.. more.... attractive? genre frenemies to lovers, comedy, romance, fluff, reader sucks at her studies, riki sucks too but he's smarter, reader and riki bickers like.. a lot.., riki and reader is lowkey like risa and otani from lovely complex, friend group goes on a trip together, jealousy, slight miscommunication, riki surprises reader a lot, New Years (eve), countdown and fireworks rahh, both of them get worked up so easily lols, reader's parents are mad chill, confessions, so much fucking teasing, not proofread (yet) pairing nishimura riki x f!reader featuring jake, jungwon, sunghoon, sunoo (all are the same age/grade) word count ~11.1k warnings not much, lots of insults ig?, please lmk if i missed out on anything cly's note i do nawt know why i left this draft dusting when it literally had so much POTENTIAL. this is probs my fave fic cos i enjoyed writing it so much. unfortunately there are certain parts that i half-assed but hopefully they arent that obvious. THIS FIC IS SO CUTE hope yall enjoy it. AND i made a playlist for this too so ill post it soon. okay gn guys.

show your support by liking, reblogging and commenting! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

now playing i like u — niki | [playlist]

"In your face, loser!" you laughed out, pointing at Ni-ki who was now pouting at you. With the Wii controller in your hand, you shook the console around to make your in-game character continuously swing their racket.

That's right.

You were playing Wii Sports out of all things even if your exams were nearing.

Sulking at his loss, he sat himself down on the couch beside Jaeyun who was enjoying everything and released a loud sigh for you to hear. Still celebrating your victory by laughing and jumping around, you took a moment to glance at Ni-ki, who could be seen glaring at you. You stuck your tongue out at him and he simply rolled his eyes.

"Y/N won again?" Sunghoon spoke up, entering the living room from the kitchen with Jungwon by his side. Ni-ki scoffed. and you simply felt your ego get boosted from Sunghoon's words. You turned your body to Sunghoon, both hands resting on your hips as you loudly replied, "That's right!".

"Ni-ki lost 3 times in a row" Jaeyun teased, earning a hard slap from Ni-ki causing him to yelp loudly and rub the area where he got smacked from, "Ouch..".

You giggled at the sight of Ni-ki being salty, and you pointed the console at him, "Rematch?".

Ni-ki flipped his head up towards you, his expression displeased as he responded, "So you can beat me again? Not happening".

You whined at him and Jungwon chuckled, sitting himself beside Jaeyun who was still gently rubbing his arm from the hit.

"Don't forget that there's still work to do," Jungwon voiced out, earning a groan from you as you remembered the work you have yet to finish.

"Just one more rematch!" you pleaded, turning your head back to Ni-ki who was now scrolling on his phone. "Ki," your tone sounding serious and he sighed before setting his foot to the floor and standing up. "Just one more."

Spoiler alert, you won again.

Before you knew it, you were scribbling on your homework. You let out a soft sigh, sitting back on your chair as you glanced around. In front of you revealed Sunghoon, Jaeyun and Jungwon typing on their laptops, remaining completely silent. To your right was Ni-ki, who also seemed completely focused at the work at hand.

You poked your tongue against your cheek, thoughts to just abandon your work and play again filling your head. Your face lit up and you turned your head to Ni-ki to ask him to play again until you noticed the frown on his face while doing his work.

You scanned his features, noticing his black hair being rested nicely on his forehead, partially covering his eyes. Your eyes shifted over to his ears, noticing his piercings that you never took the chance to see up-close. One helix and one earlobe piercing. His jawline looking sharper than usual, and prominence of his Adam's apple. He had always complained that he disliked his left side, but for some reason, you found it pleasing to look at.

Woah, he's actually kinda good looking.. When did he look this attractive?

You quickly slapped yourself, a loud sound emitting through the room, earning you a mix of concerned and confused expressions from the rest.

"Have you gone mental or something?" Ni-ki scoffed, clearly judging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the papers that were nicely laid on the table in front of you.

"I think Biology's driving her insane," Jaeyun teased and you stuck your tongue out at him. You brushed the thoughts you had of Ni-ki away. Jaeyun was probably correct, right? It was just Biology driving you insane?

You groaned before you look back at Ni-ki, glancing at his papers to see what he was working on.

"Ki, you're doing Biology too, right? Help me out." you leaned closer to Ni-ki, looking at the contents of the papers he was doing. It was indeed the same paper as yours, and you faced him, giving him a pleading look.

He raised an eyebrow at you and leaned backwards on his chair, folding his arms, "Why should I help you?".

Your jaw slightly dropped as you scowled at him, "Don't tell me you're still salty?".

"Oh. No more help then." he stated, his body turning back as he continued writing on his paper. You groaned as you continued to keep your gaze on him, watching as he scribbles on his paper.

You slowly lean closer to him, attempting to see his answers but he notices your antics and scoffed at you, leaning forward and using his body to prevent you from looking. You rolled your eyes and you sat back on your chair, releasing a sigh of defeat.

Few minutes pass by and you try to keep your attention on your homework, having to re-read the question multiple times due to your mind drifting away while reading. You glanced over at Ni-ki again, and he was no longer blocking you from seeing his work.

It didn't work when you tried to see his work, so why not take it from him..?

You couldn't help but to smirk at the clever idea you thought of, slowly leaning towards him before snatching the paper from him. He immediately let out a loud gasp and snapped his head at you, attempting to snatch it back from you.

You laughed out loud as you turned your back to him, trying to read all of his answers before he manages to snatch his work back. Ni-ki kept trying to snatch it but your back was facing him, making it impossible for him, and as you were about to finish reading his answers, he stood behind you, his body hovering over yours and his arms taking his paper back into his hands from both sides.

Your giggles slowly start to die down as you look behind you, noticing the close proximity between you and Ni-ki. His back was pressed up all against you, and his face were mere inches away from yours, and as you felt your heart skip a beat, you immediately pushed him away.

"Seriously? You steal my paper and now you push me away?" he grumbled, glaring at you before sitting back on his chair. Your mind quickly recalled the proximity you and Ni-ki had just a few seconds ago, causing your heart rate to pick up the pace and blood to rush to the tip of your ears.

You shot a displeased look at him, retorting back, "It's not that hard to share your answers!". He simply rolled his eyes and continued to do his work after sitting back down. There were a few giggles from the others, clearly enjoying the bickering that was happening in front of them, it was like their form of entertainment, but afterwards the room grew silent again.

The silence helped you to realise the pace your heart was beating at, your chest feeling like it was going to burst. You blink repetitively, feeling confused as to why you were feeling that way. You once again recalled the moment when you and Ni-ki was at close proximity, causing your breathing accelerated and your face to feel hot.

What was this feeling? Why were you feeling this way? Why does it feel so weird..?

You cleared your throat as you took a waterbottle in front of you into your hands, gulping it down in hopes to make this unusual feeling go away before you heard another loud voice again.

"That's mine!" Ni-ki's voice called out again, and you quickly gain back consciousness, glancing at the bottle you were holding and confirming that it was, indeed, Ni-ki's bottle before you gasp and quickly place it down on the table. You looked at Ni-ki with widened eyes, your eyes blinking repetitively in confusion as he flashed you another disapproving look.

"Seriously, what's going on with you today?" he grumbled and snatched his bottle, placing it to his side which was out of reach to you. He was right though, what was going on with you today? You pouted, feeling guilty as you tried to think about all the reasons why you acted that way. "Sorry.." you apologised.

"That's a first." Ni-ki stated, his tone remaining strict as you rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comment. You looked up at the boys sat in front of you and realised all 3 of them were watching you and Ni-ki, giggling at you two were bickering.

It wasn't new that you and Ni-ki bichered, but it never failed to be entertaining. "Gosh, 3 of you, just do your work." you said, shaking your head and giving them an annoyed look.

You sat back on your chair, staring into blank space and completely disregarding the loud environment around you as conversations emerged from all corners of the room. You hated how majority of the conversations were about Biology, especially since the exams were coming up. The fact that you have to hear it even before class gave you a major headache, and it immediately brought your energy level down.

"Someone's already unhappy," a voice spoke out, sounds of the chair beside you being dragged as you noticed a figure sit themselves down beside you. You turned to the figure and realised it was Ni-ki. The smug expression plastered all over his face didn't go unnoticed by you, giving you the desire to remove that expression from his face with your own hands. "Someone's already being a nuisance," you shot back.

He chuckled, enjoying how it was clearly evident that you were ticked off. "Did you manage to get that paper done?" he questioned, but it came off as a taunt to you. "Oh shut up.." you rolled your eyes.

He chuckled before leaning in closer to you, "Don't want the answers?". Your face lit up and you turned your body to him, completely sold to the idea of him giving the answers to you. "Please!" you begged, holding your hands up with your palms against each other.

The corner of his mouth curved up, realising how much power he has in this situation, and he folded his arms while slouching onto the chair, "You can't just get things for free, right?". You looked at him in disbelief. Was he seriously going to play like this?

The thought of smacking him and arguing with him again seemed ideal, but you actually needed the answers, so for once you gave in. "What do you want?".

"How about..." Ni-ki dragged his words, holding his chin as he looked at the ceiling to think. You felt yourself growing impatient as he continued to hum.

"A kiss on the cheek?" "HUH?!"

Your face instantly grew red, your mouth agape as you looked at him with widened eyes. Your heart rate could be felt increasing, and it felt almost as if your chest was going to burst. You blinked at him repetitively in confusion, and he looked at you with a confused expression from your loud reaction.

Ni-ki cleared his throat, "I.. was just joking..". He scratched his neck and looked away, clearly not expecting your reaction and only now realising his joke.

"The c-cafe! Treat me to the cafe later, got it?!" he pointed at you, the apples of his cheek slightly tinted with a hint of pink. Still in a state of shock, you slowly nodded and he could be seen taking out the paper from his bag, loudly placing it down on your table before going on his phone and scrolling, so obviously feeling awkward at the situation.

You slowly took your eyes off of him, pushing your chair in and straightening your posture before you started to copy his answers. Your hands were quite wobbly as you read Ni-ki's answers and wrote it down, but the moment from a few seconds ago not failing to stay in your head. Why would he ask such a question?

Right after the class, he immediately dashed out without uttering a word, leaving you in a state of shock. Yesterday you were out of it and today was his turn. You scoffed as you took your own time to pack your stuff since you didn't have a noisy being that was usually nagging at you to quicken up.

The classroom started to quitetten down as students start to leave to have their lunch. As you hung your bag around your shoulder, you probably like the 4th last person to leave. You huffed out, feeling irritated at the thought that Ni-ki just left you alone without saying a word, and you immediately started walking out of the classroom.

He wants to leave you stranded? Okay. Fine. You won't find him until he finds you like a helpless puppy. He wants to play like this? Sure.

You had finished grabbing a packet of bread from the cafeteria and immediately made your way to the benches, where you and Ni-ki always ate together until you heard voices at the front of the field.

"What do you think about her?".

The voices were muffled and you couldn't care less, continuing your way until you heard a familiar voice.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" the familiar voice sounded, their tone sounding flustered and irritated.

You immediately stop your tracks and held your breath, focusing on hearing their conversation and interested in the juicy details.

"Who else, Y/N of course!"

Your heart immediately stopped hearing your name, your eyes widening and your jaw dropping all at once.

Now you must really listen and get all the juicy details about your maybe.. secret admirer. You were still flabbergasted but you immediately recovered, wanting to see who was talking about you. You hid behind a bush, peeking your head out just so you could see who they were.

Your eyes squint as you try to make out who it was and.. oh....

"She's weird as hell, 'kay?! She's always been weird but lately, it's just- more!" Ni-ki ranted, his entire face sour as he spoke about her.

Your chest tightened and your stomach felt queesy as you learn how Ni-ki talked about you behind your back. Typically, you'd barge into the conversation by now and punch Ni-ki for shit talking you like that, but this time you felt different.

This time you'd wish that he'd talk nicely about you for once.

You'd stealthily leave, not wanting to hear more of their conversation as your entire mood shifted. You'd found acquintances back in the cafeteria and lucky enough, they were kind to let you eat with them. Everyone was a bit skeptical because you weren't with Ni-ki as usual, but they remained silent, sensing the tension.

You wanted to run away and go home immediately, but here you were, sitting in the cafe just as you promised Ni-ki earlier. He didn't give you a chance to run away since he immediately grabbed your wrist before you could make a move. You wanted to excuse yourself but he brought up the fact he did a favour for you by letting you copy him — hence, you couldn't just run away.

He sat down across you, setting a tray with only his drink since you refused to get a drink of your own, not wanting to get comfortable with him. Your irritated expression didn't go unnoticed, and when you glared at him then rolled your eyes, he immediately snapped back.

"What's your problem?"

You scoffed, smirking as you rolled your eyes again. "What's my problem? I could ask you the same".

"Dude, I literally have no clue what you're talking about—" "Oh, like remember how you just left me in the classroom?"

He seemed a bit stunned, but there was this guilty look on his face.

"Okay I'm sorry for tha—" "Or when you called me 'weird as hell'? I'm sorry that I've been weirder lately!" you interrupted, your tone sarcastic. "You heard that?!" "Well no shit I heard you talk behind my back proudly!"

His tensed up face relaxed slightly. "Wait, that's all you heard?"

"Well what else was I supposed to hear?! What else about me were you planning to insult? My face, huh?"

He heaved a sigh of relief, "Thank God..".

"Excuse me? What the fuck are you thanking God for?" "No! I-" he seemed loss for words. "It's not like that, okay? Just- forget about it". "You're unbelievable," you sighed loudly, taking his drink and sipping from it, looking out the window and missing his flustered expression.

He knew you wouldn't talk to him unless he lit your mood up immediately, so he suggested a solution within a snap. "I'll pay. Order your own drink, I'll pay".

Your eyes immediately lit up at his suggestion, your eyes suddenly filled again with so much life.

"Even for your drink?" "Even for my drink."

You licked your lips and after you set his drink down on the table, you pointed your finger at him. "You.. Next time you talk shit about me, say it to my face, kay?!".

He nodded, not wanting to anger you further. "Okay, fine". He sheepishly watched you, mumbling in a soft voice, "Sorry..".

You puffed your cheeks at him and pouted, your heart fluttering as you saw his guilty expression. Oh my god, it was that feeling again. You snapped your neck the other direction and brushed him off, "Whatever".

You clasped your hands together, feeling elated. "Exams are finally over!" you announced, earning cheers and claps from the others. You jumped onto the couch beside Jaeyun and immediately got comfortable, a wave of relief washing over you — no more thinking about grades, exams, studies at least for a while.

"Guys, we have to do something," Jaeyun suggested, leaning forward while steepling his hands, looking at everyone as he invited for hangout ideas.

"Arcade!" Jungwon recommended. "We already do that," Ni-ki shot. "Camping?" Sunghoon voiced. "Yeah nah, no way," Jake answered with slight fear in his voice. "How 'bout swimming?" Jake recommended. Ni-ki frowned and shook his hands, "We should do something that isn't some one-day thing".

"A trip". You slammed your hands on your thighs and stood up, "A trip. Staycation. How 'bout that?"

Everyone looked at each other and nodded in agreement, an expression of amusement taking over. Ni-ki teased, "You're finally using your head for once, huh?".

You raised your fist and you shot a glare, earning a giggle from Ni-ki. Jake ignored the two of you, "Should we invite other people?".

Jungwon who sat beside Jake nudged his shoulder and smirked, "Like.. that girl friend group you kept eyeing?".

Jake's eyes immediately widen, and he started to shake his head and wave his hands, "N-no!". He denies it but everyone can see through him from the way the tip of his ears turns red.

You rested your arms on your hips and looked at Jake, giving him a doubtful look. Everyone else followed suit, their expressions filled with doubtfulness and mockery. Jake, out of peer pressure, confessed, "Okay, yes, fine! I do mean them".

Everyone snickered in victory, enjoying his flustered state.

You teased, "Invite them — the more the merrier, right?".

Walking into the resort, you let out a sound of amusement as you take in the view. There was a swimming pool and a jacuzzi side by side, a big kitchen and stairs leading to the second and third floor, probably where all the sleeping rooms were. There was a beach near your resort, making this place the paradise for everyone.

Someone nudged your shoulder and your head snapped up, seeing the iconic mischevious smile on Ni-ki's face. Your chest tightened at how close he was, but you cleared your throat then glared at him.

"One day, I'll kill you," you threatened and he simply laughed. He patted your head making you hitch your breath, "You can try". Your cheeks heated up slightly, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Huaah! No way!" Jake cheered as he entered later than you, breaking the banter between you and Ni-ki. You looked back and grinned, feeling proud about your friend's success.

"This shit's amazing, thank God you invited us Jake!" Sabrina gazed into Jake's eyes, a bright smile plastered all over her face.

You glanced back at Ni-ki, both of you giving a knowing gaze at each other and chuckling together. You stopped as you entered the building, checking out the place. Your eyes eventually wander back to Ni-ki and you gulped, feeling nervous that you were on a trip with him.

For some reason, a part of you wanted you to grab his hand to hold him, and the thought of it was torturing you because your heart wanted to explode and you also didn't want to make things weird. You bit your lip as your eyes stared at his hand, and just as you were about to reach out, Ni-ki was nudged forward by someone clinging to his side.

"Ni-ki! Doesn't this place look great?" Nao exclaimed as she held onto his arms, giving him puppy eyes. You immediately pulled your hand back, biting your lips as you realise your chance had slipped away.

"Mm, yeah it does," Ni-ki responds, smiling at her and making you feel awkward, making you puff up your cheeks. You almost felt like you were the third wheel, so you immediately turned around, in hopes that there would be someone to talk to — and to your luck, there was a wandering Sunoo.

You immediately walked up to him and conversed with him, trying to ignore Nao and Ni-ki.

Throughout the entire day, Nao and Ni-ki sticked together, and the bare thought of it made you feel queesy in the stomach.

Whatever. He must be happier with her, right?

During dinner, you sat beside Sunoo, but for some reason, you were laughing more, giggling more, playfully slapping Sunoo more as you two talked. You didn't usually act like this, and it was making you puzzled. And for some reason, you kept eye-ing Nao and Ni-ki, trying to see how they were going and also wishing on their downfall.

You didn't know why you were suddenly acting weird. Probably because this was your first proper trip with your friends, right?

Throughout the entire night, though you kept taking glances at Nao and Ni-ki, everytime Ni-ki wanted to talk or get close to you, you came up with an excuse every single time, saying that you need to talk to Sunoo, or use the toilet or whatever.

You felt irritated at him, feeling the urge to just slap him, but you also didn't know why. You knew he had a punchable and slappable face, but this urge was uncalled for.

Luckily for you, you had a 100% rate in avoiding him. You sighed as you pulled the covers up to your face, staring at the ceiling of the dark room. Dozing off was what you wanted, but your mind was racing with thoughts.

Was Nao a better best friend than you? Is she more fun? Does he like her more?

You screamed into your pillow and kicked your legs, feeling overstimulated by all these thoughts. You threw your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes. Lucky for you, you got room to yourself so you could do this all you wanted.

With your face on the pillow, you tried to focus on your breathing and clear your mind until you heard your door click. You immediately froze as if you'd been caught doing a crime and you held your breath.

You'd thought that it was a burglar who broke in and was targetting you, so when you felt a tap on your shoulder, you flipped yourself to your back and screamed.

The person immediately panicked at your scream, using their hand to cover your mouth. "What's wrong with you?!" a familiar voice complained.

You stop screaming as you realise the person was someone you knew, and you try to make out their features until you realise..

"Do you want to wake the rest or what?!" Ni-ki whisper-shouted.

You immediately calmed down, looking into Ni-ki's eyes. When you processed that Ni-ki was actually here, you suddenly realise how close he was. How he was slightly hovering over you, covering your mouth with his hand and how close his face was.

At the moment of realisation, you pushed him away by instinct, causing his butt to hit the floor. "Ow! What was that for?!" he whisper-shouted once again.

"You were too close!" you replied, also whisper-shouting. You could hear ruffling sounds as he stood back on his feet, supporting himself with his arm as he hovered over the bed to look at you, "You're such a dimwit, you know that?".

"God, do you ever have anything nice to say?" you rolled your eyes, but he didn't catch it because of the darkness.

He sighed as he held himself back from arguing with you. He inhaled as he spoke up, "You and me, let's go".

Confusion took over your face as you try to process his question. You sat up on the bed as you looked up at him. "What are you talking about?'".

"Just- follow me, damnit!" he held your hand as he tugged your arm, signalling you to get off the bed and follow him.

You pursed your lips as you felt his hand holding yours, and you get off the bed, allowing him to drag you.

The house was dark, the area only being lit up from the light of the street light entering through the windows. He was bringing you down the stairs, still holding onto your hand and you pouted your lips.

This was a weird experience, but you weren't complaining.

Since it was dark, you couldn't really see, and you missed a step causing you to slip. Ni-ki immediately turned around and caught you, "Woah there!".

Your arms were rested against his chest as he had his hands on your waist to give you support. "Are you okay?" he asked. and you were almost surprised that he wasn't insulting you or saying anything like "Are you blind?".

You looked down, "Yeah.. Sorry".

You both stepped back, and you almost wished you didn't say anything because you enjoyed his warmth so much, but before you could regret anything, he held your hand again and continued to drag you, being more slow and cautious to prevent anymore falls.

Your heart was beating so fast it could almost jump out of your heart. You could hear your own pulse in your ears and you were thankful that it was dark, because you could physically feel your face heat up.

As he dragged you near the entrance of the resort, you two put on your slippers and he brought you out. You two are immediately met with the cool wind of the night, the wind blowing your hair.

None of you said anything, secretly enjoying each other's presence though you two wouldn't admit it.

You clenched your fist as you grew more nervous. You weren't nervous that Ni-ki was going to kill you or whatever — you were nervous because it was just him. Just him and you, and you two were holding hands. His pace hastened up, almost like he had a clear destination in his head, and you simply followed, not wanting to say anything in fear of making things awkward.

You took more steps, unsure where you were going but you trusted him. You continued walking until you felt the texture of the ground you were walking on change, sand immediately getting on your feet and slippers.

He continued to drag you, the sound of the ocean waves becoming clearer and the view of the water coming closer. The moonlight made the ocean look so pretty, and this was a view you loved so much.

"Check this out," he finally spoke, breaking the silence between the two of you. He continued, "You mentioned once you wanted to see the ocean in the beach in the middle of the night..".

He cleared his throat, continuing further, "So here we are".

You remained silent, completely moonstruck by the view as you watched how the waves flowed, and hearing your silence, he was about to nag you for not thanking him until he saw your dazed look. He sighed, taking your dazed look as a 'thank-you', "You're welcome".

"You remembered," "What?" "You remembered that I said that.."

He smiled, "Why else would I bring you here?".

"You have good memory huh? For someone who has a small brain," you teased, giggling.

"Okay, sure, whatever," he rolled his eyes.

You continued, "Gosh, do you really have good memory?".

"Duh! I'm smart!" he boasted.

"Then what did I say to you when we first met?" "You called me all the vulgarities God knew. What a foul mouth you have," he sighed, looking at the waves as he reminicsed.

"You remember that too? I remember you couldn't even tell me how you and Sunghoon met, y'know?!".

"Me and Sunghoon just happened, 'kay?! Besides, I remember important things only," he muttered.

You raised your eyebrows, warmth filling your chest, "Are you calling me important?".

Ni-ki scoffed, "Don't flatter yourself".

You'd ended up telling Sunoo everything. From when you realised you felt weird about him, to how he brought you to see the waves last night. You almost exploded bottling everything up, but you felt like you could trust him, so you told him everything. He listened earnestly, willing to give you advice.

"From this, I feel like.."

You looked at him attentively, anticipating to his words.

"You like him. Love even," he broke the news and you shouted in shock, causing him to cover your mouth with his hands.

"No way! Me?! Loving that dork?! As if!" you denied as he lowered his hands, feeling your cheeks heat up as you grew more irritated for an unknown reason.

"You can believe what you wanna — but you definitely love him".

You pouted as your chest tightened, the weird feeling coming in again as you thought about him.

You? Loving Ni-ki?

I dunno...

Maybe.

Loud conversation and laughter filled the room as everyone sat in a circle, a glass bottle in the centre spinning. Everyone exclaimed in suspense, watching the bottle slow down till it eventually lands on Nao.

"Nao!" everyone called, and you pursed your lips, your gaze looking at Ni-ki to see how he reacted to Nao being called. He was smiling brightly as he watched her, making your heart crack a bit.

"Nao, truth or dare!" Sabrina asked.

"Err, I'm not ready yet... so truth for now!" Nao answered.

Jake immediately shot with the basic question, "Do you have a crush on anyone?".

She looked hesitant to answer, but she eventually did.

"Yes".

Upon hearing her response, everyone started a teasing chant towards her, making her cheeks go red. You were staring at Ni-ki, knowing that he was probably the one that she liked until he looked back at you.

You immediately broke eye contact, feeling awkward as you tried to pretend like you weren't just staring at him. Nao nervously glanced at him before she spinned the bottle in the middle.

Everyone exclaimed again in suspense, watching the bottle speed up and slow down, and it eventually stops on..

You.

Oh no.

"Y/N! Truth or dare!" Jungwon asked this time, and you gave a weak smile.

"Truth".

Nao shot without wasting a second, "Do you like anyone in this room right now?".

The question caught you off-guard, making you cough on your saliva as you looked around to see everyone's curious gazes on you. You'd caught a bit of Ni-ki's calm behaviour, feeling scared that if you answered you'd somehow reveal your feelings for him.

You nervously looked at Sunoo, and he gave you a reassuring nod, silently encouraging you.

"Y-yeah, yes I do".

Everyone in the room cheered. Everyone except you, Sunoo who already knows who it is, Nao who has a gist and also Ni-ki himself.

"Flip up your papers now and see what number you got! There will be another person in the room who got the same number and you two would have to spend New Years Eve together!" Jake announced.

You did so, and you saw a big "4". You looked around the room, seeing everyone's reaction to their numbers.

Jake continued, "Nuh uh, but no saying what number you got! Breaks the surprise, y'know?!".

Everyone groaned and started to complain, and you simply remained quiet, only hoping that you didn't get Nao.

But obviously you were wishing for one person.

You folded your arms, tapping your feet as you stared into blank space, the loud atmospehre of the streets keeping you awake as you waited for your partner. Jake had announced meeting areas for the specific numbers, and right now you were just patiently waiting until the other person who got "4" arrived.

You heard footsteps approaching you from behind, and before you turned around, you mentally prayed to every god that is wasn't Nao. You inhaled and held your breath, turning your body around to reveal who it was.

"Y/N?" Sunoo called, his eyebrows slightly raising, and though there was a part of you that felt disappointed, you also felt relieved that it was Sunoo out of all people.

"Sunoo?" you smiled, feeling thankful. You sputtered out an obvious question, "What are you doing here?".

He replied, "Well, someone needed help coming here because he insisted he'd get 'lost'".

Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his answer, not knowing what he meant as you heard more footsteps behind Sunoo. You peeked over Sunoo's shoulder and saw Ni-ki walking towards the two of you. Your eyes widened and you immediately straightened yourself.

You whisper-shouted, "Are you for real? He's my partner?!".

He gave you a smug look, "Have fun", then leaning into your ear, "Make the most out of it".

Your face immediately redenned and you pushed Sunoo away, earning chuckles from him as he stepped away and centred himself between you and Ni-ki, who set to a stop in front of you.

"Here's your location, and your partner," Sunoo announced, looking at Ni-ki.

Ni-ki was staring at you, probably feeling as stunned as you. "You're telling me I have to spend my New Years with this.. dork?!".

"Excuse me?! You're the even bigger dork!" "Says the one who almost woke everyone up a while ago!".

Your bickering was instantly placed to a halt when Sunoo firmly grasped each of your shoulders, leaning forward and speaking in an almost.. threatening tone. "I'm not responsible for any of you if you two die or end up in a situation".

You two gulped as you felt the tension in Sunoo's voice, not wanting to irritate him further. You froze as if the sound of your breathing could annoy him. Seeing that the two of you complied after a period of silence, he released the grip on your shoulders and flashed an innocent smile, almost as if he didn't threaten the two of you just a second ago.

"Now I have to find my partner and I might be late because of a certain someone," Sunoo shot a glare at Ni-ki, who was awkwardly avoiding eye contact and scratching his neck.

His smile returned and he greeted before leaving, "Okay, bye guys!".

When Sunoo left, the two of you were left in a state of shock.

"That dude's kinda scary...." Ni-ki commented, his facial expression as if he had just seen a ghost. "Y-yeah.. I never knew he was like that," you added on, feeling slightly traumatised.

You'd hope that the normal you was out, being able to converse with him before you discovered the fact that you had feelings for him, but luck wasn't on your side. You were constantly thinking through before you spoke, only saying the filtered out words, making you seem painfully awkward.

You two were holding ice cream that you bought from the food trucks at the side of the streets, and you both were walking side by side down the streets.

"Isn't this flavour great?" Ni-ki questioned. "Y-yeah. Love it," you stammered, mentally cursing yourself for it as you bit your lip.

Ni-ki stopped and sighed, making you stop walking as well.

"Are you kidding me?" he shot and you immediately felt confused.

"I literally got you vanilla. The flavour you hated? And you didn't even curse me out, or even point it out?! Now you're saying you love it?" Ni-ki ranted, obviously feeling over it with your unusualness.

You immediately snap back to reality and look at your ice cream cone, and eventually confirmed that it was vanilla, and you indeed had a strong hatred for vanilla. You immediately screamed and drop your ice cream cone, the ice cream splattering on the ground and your gaze averted to him with widened eyes.

"Gosh, are you finally back?" he squatted down and picked up your cone, taking out tissues from his sling bag to clean up your mess as much as he can. You remained silent, afraid that anything you said would've given you away.

He'd finished up cleaning your mess as he stood back up, looking at you with a sour expression as he held up your dropped ice cream cone and the dirty tissues that were soaked in vanilla ice cream. You nervously glanced away and he only sighed.

"Was I not the partner you wanted? Is that why you're like this?".

"Absolutely not!" you shot back immediately. "It's just.." you tried to find words to explain yourself without giving yourself away, "you look really ugly right now".

He scoffed, but instead of continuing the banter with him, he only sighed and patted your head, "There she is, welcome back".

You looked into his eyes and saw his soft gaze, causing your heart to skip a beat. You immediately frowned and sucked one side of your cheek, turning your body away from him. "You're so annoying".

"And you're weird as fuck. This is exactly why I 'shit-talked' you that day," he giggled.

"Hey! That was really mean!"

It was about an hour left before the New Years, and you'd eventually relaxed around Ni-ki, returning back to your usual self though there was this lingering feeling that made your chest tighten that you tried to brush away desperately.

You noticed Ni-ki to your right looking at the city lights, admiring the view as a big smile was plastered across his face. You softly smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone camera before snapping a photo of him, not realising that your phone would've made a loud 'click!' sound. Ni-ki immediately snaps his neck towards you, realising your antics as you immediately giggle and turn your back on him, making it harder for him to get your phone.

"Hey! That was my bad side!" he whined, trying to grab the phone from you, and you only looked at the photo in awe as you continue giggling, enjoying his reactions.

"What're you talking about? You look really handsome here," you commented, not realising you said that out loud. He was immediately shunned, not believing his ears as you continued to analyse the photo. You continue, "Say, you've never had someone take these types of photos for you right?".

He immediately steps back, clearing his throat and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, no.."

You looked up at him, "'Cause you never had a girlfriend, right?!".

He immediately rolled his eyes as you struck a sensitive part of his heart, his ego being slightly shattered as you bring up the fact. "Whatever," he brushed off.

"Wait, seriously?! I was joking, y'know?!"

"You've literally been my best friend my entire life how do you not know?"

"I've always seen girls hit on you and you hang out with them, y'know?! Were you not dating them?!".

"Do you see me hang out with them more than 2 times?!"

You were immediately silenced as you tried to recall the moments that he did hang out with the other girls, and no, he definitely did not hang out with any of them more than 2 times.

"That's right!" he continued, standing his point.

"I just assumed you kept it a secret 'cos you were shy and—"

"I never keep secrets!" he huffed out and you could tell me was more irritated than usual. "What about you, huh?! You have a crush on someone and you never told me?!"

"HUH?!?!" you yell out, thinking you were caught.

He continued, "Don't act dumb! During that truth or dare you admitted it!".

You sighed in relief, feeling thankful that he didn't catch on, "Thank God..".

"The fuck you thanking God for?!" he spat. You remained quiet as you observed him place his hands on his hips and take small steps in a circle to soothe his anger, "You're unbelievable".

A part of you was afraid, but a part of you wanted to confess. To express yourself. To tell him all your secrets. But you were so afraid that you'd ruin everything. You were so afraid that he wouldn't feel the same way and reject you.

But, the part of you wanting to confess became bigger, seeing how he was so desperate to find out who your crush was.

You closed your eyes and sighed, your heart thumping as you made your final decision. "I'll tell you on New Years".

"What?" his head immediately shot up.

"New Years. During the countdown. I'll tell you".

He scoffed, "Finally, you're being a decent human being for once".

"Says you?!" you immediately felt taken aback, placing your fists in a fighting stance, ready to punch him and almost regretting that this was the very person that you loved.

There was 5 minutes until the New Years, and you two were sitting on a bench at the park, patiently waiting until it was time. You sat there, feeling like your heart was going to explode as you come to a realisation that you were going to confess. Confess your feelings to your very best friend, and you were enjoying his company before it could all possibly change for the worst.

You kicked your legs in the air, leaning forward as your palms layed flat on the bench, blowing out air from your puffed out cheeks as you tried to calm yourself down.

It was gonna be okay, right? It's just a simple 'I like you', right?

"Y'know you can just say it now, right?" Ni-ki complained.

"Shut up!" you snapped, wishing you liked someone more tolerable like Sunoo. You commented, "You're so annoying, and I hope you know that".

"Thanks for the constant reassurance, Y/N, I hear that from you everyday," he scoffed.

You two continued to banter until he interrupted you, "Shut up! The countdown is starting!".

You choked out, not being ready to confess your very feelings.

"10.. 9.."

Fuck fuck fuck, you weren't ready!

"8.. 7.."

Fuck it. Fuck it!

"6.. 5.."

You didn't even have time to plan how you were going to say it!

Y'know what?

"4.. 3.." you chanted alongside with him, "Actually, y'know what? Fuck it! I like you!".

And as you finished your sentence, the fireworks immediately went off, the bright colours lighting up the dark sky. Loud cheers and celebrations that can be heard from the city near your park and you simply sighed, feeling the weight in your chest finally being released after God-knows-how-long. You stared at the fireworks, watching how it explodes, splits to smaller sparks, feeling his gaze at you.

"Ni-ki, look, the fireworks".

"You mean that?" he asked out of the blue, his tone serious as you turned to look at him. His face was stern and unreadable. You couldn't tell if he was happy, or disgusted, or whatever.

"What do you think? You think I say that for fun?" your tone was light and fun, feeling relieved you finally let it out. "Just answer the question, damnit!" he snarled, making you feel taken-aback.

"Okay, yes, fine! I like you! I said it. I mean it. What, are you not happy? What, are you gunna reject me, huh?!" you spilled out your thoughts as you snapped back at him, feeling irritated that he was reacting this way. What was his deal?!

He sighed and leaned back on the bench. "Do you ever wonder why I haven't dated any of the girls you mentioned?".

"C'mon, if you're gunna reject me just directly say—" "Because I like you!"

Features of shock immediately took over your face, not believing what you were hearing. He.. liked.. you?

"I liked you the entire damn time! Even before we became close, okay?!" he ranted, his voice sounding desperate as he confessed to you.

"Remember that time I was 'shit-talking' you in the field?! Thankfully you missed out on the part where I said I liked you!" he continued, his anger spilling out.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. He liked you. He liked you back. He felt the same way about you. You were silent as you stared at him feeling apalled. Finding all of this amusing and not knowing how to respond, you broke into a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny?! What, now are you rejecting me?!"

"Dork," you teased.

"What?" "You're a dork. A dork for me," you teased further and you watched as his face grew red.

"You never know how to shut your mouth!"

This was the last thing you expected, but the best outcome that could've played out. You walked beside Ni-ki, hand in hand as you noticed the lively atmosphere of the crowd since it was the new year. He held your hand tightly and pulled you closer to him as you both try to make way through the crowd, instinctively guarding you as someone gets too close.

"Protective over me, huh?" you teased, enjoying how flustered he gets.

"I will literally leave you right here if you say another word," he shot a glare at you, the tips of his ears turning to a light shade of pink.

"It's okay, I like the way your hand feels on mine," you smirked, watching how he looks away and purses his lips, clearly trying to act nonchalant.

"Whatever you want," he clears his throat and straightens his posture, softly tugging at your hand before continuing to walk again.

As you two continued walking, you spotted another ice cream food truck and you immediately pulled on his hand, "Look, another ice cream truck!".

"Do you want another one?" he asked, knowing you'd already say yes.

"Yup!". At the sound of your approval, he was about to start walking to the truck but you stood in front of him.

"Nuh uh, I'll get this myself, I feel bad that you paid and cleaned up my ice crem earlier, so I'll do it," you insisted, feeling ashamed and not wanting to burden him further.

"No I'll—" "No. You stay." your voice fierce and stern, causing Ni-ki to nod in compliance and quietten down.

You smiled before patting his shoulder and making a turn for the truck.

He mumbled to himself, "God, is Sunoo and her siblings or something..?".

He folded his arms, tapping his feet as he looked around the area, subconsciously searching for your figure which was nowhere to be found. He sucked his inner cheek as he grew more nervous, wondering why you were taking so long to just get ice cream. He sighed as he started to make a move towards the ice cream shop, his eyes wandering in search for you but to no avail.

He slowly started to panic more, his pace hastening as he approached the ice cream truck owner, "Have you seen a beautiful girl in a black hoodie?".

"Oh, the lady who bought chocolate ice cream? Yeah she was—"

"Where is she?" Ni-ki tapped his feet repetitively, feeling the panic rise. The shop owner seemed slightly stunned, but raised his finger to point to a direction, "There, I think".

Ni-ki gave a quick nod and eyebrow raise before going to the said direction, constantly turning his head and bumping people in search for you. His breathing rate started to accelerate as he started overthinking about things that could've happened to you. He started to jog, and as soon as he was about to call out for you, he heard it.

Your laugh.

He turned his head to the same direction and he spotted you. In his eyes, it was almost like a spotlight was shone directly at you from the way his eyes focused on you and you only. Ni-ki stared at you with his jaw dropped as he watched you laugh to another girl, the melody of your laugh sounding like music to his ears.

He was rooted to his spot, completely in awe as his gaze was locked on you. You weren't even doing anything, you were just laughing, wearing your stupid black hoodie and being the dork you were, but it made his head spin.

If only you knew how you made him feel.

People bumped his shoulder, making their way past him and he simply stood there before you felt his stare and you turned around, forming eye contact through the crowd of people.

Your eyes crinkled while you beamed as you raised your hand, "Ni-ki! Over here!".

Ni-ki was immediately brought back to reality, his eyes wandering as he finally realised what was happening around him. He cleared his throat and made way to you and the other girl.

As he arrived, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and looked at the other girl. He frowned, finding her familiar as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her as he tried to recall where he saw her.

"Jake's girl?!" his jaw dropped and his head leaned forward as he felt flabbergasted that Sabrina was here as well.

"I-is that my nickname now?" Sabrina giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, finding the whole situation amusing. "Jake and I was here and I just so happened to spot Y/N," she continued.

"Is that Niks and Y/N?!" a voice emerged from behind Sabrina, and a guy's hand snaked around Sabrina's waist, revealing Jake who's hair was slightly messed up from how the wind was blowing.

"Jake!" you greeted, feeling ecstatic that there was more of you. You continued while giggling, "Happy New Year, lovebirds".

Jake broke eye contact and his gaze started wandering around, giving it away that he was flustered and Sabrina simply cackled, "We're not the only ones, right?". She eyed you and Ni-ki, her eyebrows wiggling as she observed how he pulled you close to him.

Ni-ki glanced at you to see how you'd respond and you immediately rolled your eyes, "This dumbass hasn't asked yet, but he's such a big dork for me".

He gasped, "Me? A dumbass AND a dork? Seriously you have something in your head!".

"You too have something in your head!" you shot back, "And it's me~".

"God, one day I'll tape your mouth shut!"

You and Ni-ki continued to bicker, and Jake and Sabrina looked at each other, exchanging smug and knowing looks and shrugged, knowing your whole situation and predicting everything from the start of the trip.

You jumped onto your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. You'd return from the trip almost a week ago, and you thought that you could do more trips or have more outings with the rest but everyone else was busy. You shifted a pillow below your head, taking your phone from the edge of your bed and hoping to see that one name but to no avail.

Jungwon was tutoring students as a part time job. Sunghoon was working part time at a diner. Jake had other plans — well — with Sabrina. Sunoo was busy preparing for the next semester already.

And Ni-ki? There wasn't really a reason. At least not one of you could figure it out.

After processing that you and your best friend had taken the next step, everything started to kick in. You were afraid of what was going to happen. Was he going to ask you out? Will he keep things casual? Will you and him still be normal friends?

You didn't contact him at all, in hopes that he'd initiate first, but it was the same for him. No texts, no calls, not even invites to games or the arcade.

You were starting to regret everything. If you hadn't confessed, would you and him be how it was like?

Your mind flashed to the time he confessed.

'Because I like you! I liked you the entire damn time! Even before we became close, okay?!'

You flipped to your stomach and screamed to your pillow, feeling your heart race and your thoughts go everywhere. You couldn't stop thinking about him and it was driving you insane.

He did say he liked you back, but was he really being serious? Did he say that in the heat of moment or to please you? You didn't know. And the fact that you two weren't communicating was driving you nuts.

You exhaled, giving up trying to think things through and you slowly felt your sanity slip away. You were about to slip into unconsciousness until you heard loud knocks on your window. You froze, thinking that there was a burglar.

You pushed yourself off the bed, staring out of the dark window as your hand rummaged through your table, holding anything that could defend you which was apparently a hair straightener.

You slowly approached the window, taking quiet and cautious steps as you frowned, watching the window. You opened the window and saw a wild Ni-ki, causing you to yell but he immediately shut you up by slapping a small snip of tape on your mouth. It was almost as if he'd predicted this and prepared to shut you up.

You peered at him, remaining rooted to your bedroom floor as you froze, not knowing what to do and not being able to say anything.. literally.

You sighed and you relaxed, letting the hair straightener fall to your side and you rip out the tape from your mouth, slightly hissing from the rip. Lifting up the tape beside your face, "Seriously? Tape?".

He giggled, "I did say I'd shut you up with tape one time, did I not?".

You glared at him and he slowly peeked behind him, gripping onto the side of your window tighter, "C-can you let me in? I might fall any second..".

"I might just kick you".

He sat on your carpet, his legs crossed as you sat on the edge of your bed, your arms folded as you frowned your brows at him. "What're doing here, huh?" you interrogated him, his appearance being so sudden it almost irritated you.

"I wanted to see you," he replied honestly.

You waved your hands towarrds him, "No, nah, nuh-uh, don't give me that bullshit — it makes me nervous". You continued, "Don't you have a curfew?".

"Well, I can't get into trouble if my mom doesn't know I'm out, right?" he snickered, feeling like he was the coolest person in the world and you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"You're ridiculous," you spat, pulling yourself in more towards the bed as you layed down, your back resting against the headboard. "What do you want? I know you're not just here to piss me off," you gnarled.

"Look, I know why you're pissed, okay? I came here to talk about it," he calmly informs you, his big doe eyes pleading you to cool off.

You remained silent for a second before you huffed out, sitting up straight. He requested, "Can you sit in front of me, please?".

You whined, trying to negotiate that you and him can just talk like this but he insisted, so you eventually requested, "Get on my bed".

He nods and he complies, sitting on your bed with his legs crossed, directly opposite of you. You stared at him, your arms folded. "So what now?".

"I mean everything I said," he suddenly spoke, catching you off-guard. "I've liked you before we became friends, up till now. I did tell my friend that I liked you on the field. I rejected every other girl and said that I liked you," he confessed.

You stared at him, struggling to find words to respond with. You bit your inner cheek, watching his vulnerable state.

"I'm sorry that I haven't contacted you, I know you must've had difficulties sleeping—" "Excuse you! You're flattering yourself! I would never lose sleep because of you!" you shot, but the two of you knew you were lying from how you had heavy eyebags even during break.

He rolled his eyes and held your face, causing you to wiggle back, "What're you—!" "What are these, then?" he caressed your eyebags with his thumb, tilting his head and looking at you with a soft gaze as he leaned in closer.

You pouted and huffed, looking away. "I hope you know you're selfish for being the reason I can't get any sleep," you mumbled, feeling sulky that he caught you.

The corners of his mouth dropped as he continued to caress you gently, "I'm sorry".

"You're apologising so much it's so weird," you mumbled, barely audible that Riki almost didn't catch it.

"I know, right?" he leaned back, his arms on the mattress and the warmth on your cheek disappearing, disappointment washing over you.

"So what? You apologise, then what?" you frowned, feeling impatient.

"Can you zip your mouth and let me do things how I envisioned it in my head?" he shot, his sassy side coming out again.

You giggled as you leaned backwards on your hands, looking at him and raising your eyebrows, "Okay, do things your way then. What did you plan to do now?".

He blurted, "This is the part where I ask you to be my—". You raised one eyebrow at him and he stopped himself. "Wait, no, I'm not supposed to tell you that. Wait, shit."

You burst out laughing at his awkwardness, his next move making this whole situation more hilarious. He checked his palm as if he had written his entire plan there.

"Don't tell me you wrote it on your palm? Lemme see!" you immediately crawled to him and grabbed his wrist, trying to see. "No! get away!" he resisted, trying to pull his hand back and prevent you from seeing it.

"No way! You actually did!" you read his palm as he eventually gave up trying to hide it. He sighed loudly and glared at you. You had the best laugh in the longest time, and his ego shattered more for each second it lasted.

Tears were forming from how hard you were laughing, your stomach starting to hurt, but through your tears you noticed his sulky expression, causing you to cool down and wipe your tears, "Okay I'm sorry, do whatever you wanna do next".

He rolled his eyes, before clearing his throat to shoot the question, "Y/N, will you—".

His speech was interrupted from you making a drum roll on your lap, and he simply stopped halfway into the speech, staring at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat, feeling guilty.

"Sorry".

"Gosh, I can't believe you're the one I like," he snarled, his expression annoyed.

Your stomach felt tingly at his comment, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.

"Y/N, will you pay for my gam—" "Yes!" you answered in excitement, but your smile immediately dropped realising what he actually asked.

It was his turn to snicker and you lifted your fist, threatening to punch him as he had his own laughing session.

"God, that was hilarious, Y/N will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in the midst of laughing, catching you off-guard as your jaw drops and you completely freeze.

He wiped his eyes then realised the state you were in, "C'mon, you already knew I was going to ask, what's the problem?".

"Well, duh! But I didn't know you'd just ask that so suddenly!" you complained, sulking that he asked when you leet your guard down. You demanded, "Ask again! But in a more serious tone!".

"You're a needy one, aren't you?" he commented as he shifted himself to be more comfortable and straightened his back. You look at him with a proud look, waiting for the question to come out.

"Y/N," he whispered, "Will you be my girlfriend?".

"YAY!!" a loud voice emerges from outside your room and someone falls into your room. You two immediately looked at your door, not knowing what the hell was going on and to your surprise, you saw your mom and dad.

"Honey! You didn't have to push me!" your dad complained, rubbing his hip as he layed on the floor.

"I got too excited, sorry honey!" your mom apologised as she clapped her hands and looked at the two of you.

Your turned your head to Ni-ki, your jaw remaining agape in disbelief and not feeling comfortable to do anything else. You turned your head back to your parents, "God! What's wrong with the 2 of you! It's literally—" your eyes flickered to your clock "1am! Aren't you guys supposed to be sleeping for work tomorrow?!".

You nagged at your parents for eavesdropping the conversation between you and Ni-ki and eventually managed to get them back to their rooms after lots of nagging and scolding. Your parents begged to listen but you stood your point and made them comply.

You dusted your hands as you returned to the spot you were sitting in front of Riki before you got interrupted by your parents. You sighed, "You can continue, I hope you didn't forget what to say next".

"I mean, it gave me more time to rehearse, but you haven't answered the question yet".

"What questio—" you asked, being forgetful after being so overwhelmed by your parents but immediately recalled it, "OHHHHH".

"You remember now, huh?" he mocked you.

You hummed, before requesting, "Ask again".

"Seriously? I already asked twice. Twice!"

"Third times a charm, right? And both times weren't good," you waved your hands at him, brushing him off and he scoffed.

"Gosh," he huffed. "For the last fucking time Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he put his hand on top of yours, trying to make the whole situation romantic despite how irritated he felt.

"Mmmm," you pretended to think to tease him, and as soon as you were about to continue teasing him..

"If you give me that 'I'll respond in a few business days' bullshit I'll literally kiss you," he threatened.

"Oh..? But what if I want that kiss?" you smirked, challenging him.

"God, you're so fucking annoying," he muttered before cupping your cheeks and leaning in, smashing both of your lips together. He got you again when you lowered your guard, but instead of pushing him away, you simply lived in the moment.

Your heart was racing from how you were literally kissing your best friend, and you immediately kissed him back.

The kiss was soft and gentle at first, his movements slow as if he was testing the waters but his passion grew as his kiss eventually became more passionate, his hands lowering to your waist to pull you closer to him. His nose nudged yours, and one of his hands was brought up to your face, tilting your head to give him more access.

Your mind went blank as you melted into the kiss, never wanting this kiss to end as you finally felt like you won in life. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, attempting to pull him impossibly closer.

As you both grew breathless, he eventually pulled back, his eyes directly staring into yours.

"Still need a few business days to decide?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"No need, 'cos my answer's yes," you gave in, finally making things official. He huffed and pulled you into a hug, feeling all his anger for you slip away. "Look, on a serious note, I feel like I'm not good enough for you, but I'll be better for you, I promise," he pulled away, holding your shoulders and grinning at you.

"You're soo romantic, y'know?" you sarcastically remarked, a light smile on your face, "You come to my house in the middle of the night, spilling your heart out to me after we haven't spoken for like a week".

"At least I'm fun and different, 'kay?" he defended himself, his hands in the air like he was surrendering.

"Whatever, dork," you giggled, scooching closer to him.

"Your dork?" he rested his hands on your waist as he lifted and sat you on his lap. "My dork," you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in until your lips collided again.

Walking into school with him wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that you and Ni-ki had your hands interlocked, causing everyone to look at you in shock. Whispers could be heard from every corner of the hallway, everyone being flabbergasted that the 2 friends who argued relentlessly were now hand in hand like a lovey dovey couple.

'Just what happened over the holidays?' 'Woah, this is the last thing I expected!' 'Didn't Nao like him? Shit, quick - take a photo of them!'

Your friend group was leaning on the lockers, their eyes glued onto the two of you, enjoying the performance that you and Ni-ki had put up for the school. Sunghoon nudged Jungwon and laughed as he noticed your proud expression as you two walked towards them.

"What happened, huh? Did you hit your heads when you went home after the trip?" Sunghoon teased as you two approached.

"Who knows?" Ni-ki shrugged, glancing at you and grinning.

You were having lunch, laughing as per usual with the others when Ni-ki suddenly leaned into your ear and whispered, "I like you".

Your face immediately heats up and your chest tightens, your untensils dropping as you smack Ni-ki's chest for teasing you, "Shut up!".

He laughed at your reaction, finding you adorable as he leaned on your shoulder, "I love you, Y/N".

The others rolled their eyes and pretended to puke and gag, finding the whole lovey-dovey situation disgusting and you sighed, not being able to resist him.

"I love you too".

thank you for reading till the end! show your support by liking, reblogging and commenting! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

announcement i dont know if you guys saw my other post but i'm going to take a break to focus on my school and life cos things are very hectic even if school hasn't reopened! thank you guys for the amount of love ya'll have shown me, i will forever be grateful and i will definitely come back and make more fics like this cos i find so much joy in writing. will be back in like late feb or march. but ill defo be logging in every once in a while!

taglist (love u guys) @roarr-ki @rikifever @pjselee @firstclassjaylee @adoredbyjay @ancnymcnzjy @kangseulgithegreat @sugarikiz @rikidaze @saphiranishimurashan @celestiai0 @rairaiblog @chxriz-mxr @kerbearpriv @sasfransisco @miukidoll

633 notes · View notes