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estapa-edwards · 5 months

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CHILDHOOD LOVERS - L. HUGHES

paring: Luke Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 1.6k

requested? yes -luke dating his childhood sweetheart and they are so in lvoe and perfect with each other, they keep it private to friends and family. luke goes out for the first time with the devils and a girl try’s to hood up with him but he declines because he is taken and the devils are suprised thinking it’s not like a serious relationship and then the next game jack and her suprised luke with her their and they realize how wrong they all were

warnings: use of y/n. established relationship

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Love stories often begin in the most unexpected places, but for Luke and Y/N, it all started on the frosty rinks of their childhood. Their love blossomed amidst the echoes of skates carving through ice and the exhilarating rush of the game they both adored. From innocent crushes to a deeply-rooted connection, their relationship had weathered the test of time, quietly flourishing away from the prying eyes of the world.

Luke and Y/N were inseparable since they were children. Growing up in the same neighborhood, their bond formed naturally, like two puzzle pieces destined to fit together. They shared secrets, dreams, and countless moments of laughter that solidified their bond as they navigated through the tumultuous journey of adolescence.

As they matured, their friendship evolved into something deeper. Luke found himself captivated by Y/N's infectious laughter, her unwavering support, and her gentle yet fiercely loyal nature. Y/N, in turn, cherished Luke's kindness, his passion for life, and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement every time he stepped onto the ice.

Their transition from friends to lovers was seamless, marked by stolen kisses beneath the stars and whispered promises of forever. Their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the world, and they guarded it fiercely, choosing to keep their relationship private, a sacred treasure shared only between them.

But life had a way of throwing unexpected challenges their way. Luke's passion for hockey led him to pursue a career in the NHL, a dream he had nurtured since he first laced up his skates. His talent caught the attention of the New Jersey Devils, and soon he found himself thrust into the whirlwind world of professional hockey.

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One chilly evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Luke returned home to find Y/N waiting for him in their cozy apartment. The sight of her instantly melted away the fatigue of the day, and he enveloped her in a warm embrace.

"Hey, you," Luke greeted, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead.

"Hey yourself," Y/N replied, her smile lighting up the room. "How was practice?"

Luke sighed, sinking into the couch beside her. "Tough, as usual. But seeing you makes it all worth it."

Y/N reached for Luke's hand, intertwining their fingers as she leaned against him. "I missed you today. It feels like we haven't had a moment to ourselves in ages."

"I know," Luke admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "But I promise, we'll make up for lost time. How about we order in some food and have a quiet night in?"

Y/N's eyes sparkled with excitement. "That sounds perfect."

As they settled in for the evening, sharing stories and laughter over a meal, the outside world faded into the background. In that moment, it was just the two of them, cocooned in their love and the comfort of each other's presence.

Weekends offered a brief respite from the hectic pace of Luke's schedule, and they made the most of every moment together. On one occasion, they decided to escape the city and retreat to a secluded cabin nestled in the mountains.

The crisp mountain air filled their lungs as they embarked on a leisurely hike, hand in hand. Surrounded by towering trees and breathtaking vistas, they reveled in the serenity of nature and the joy of being together.

"I could stay here forever," Y/N mused, her gaze sweeping across the panoramic landscape.

Luke smiled, pulling her close. "As long as I'm with you, anywhere feels like home."

However, their decision to keep their relationship private would soon be put to the test. During one of his first outings with his teammates, Luke found himself the object of unwanted attention from a persistent admirer. Despite the allure of temptation, Luke remained resolute, his heart belonging only to Y/N.

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It was a typical evening out with his teammates, filled with laughter, camaraderie, and the occasional fan encounter. As they settled into a booth at their favorite bar, Luke couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him.

"So, Luke, any plans for tonight?" one of his teammates, Jack, asked with a mischievous grin.

Luke shrugged, trying to mask his discomfort. "Not really. Probably just gonna head home after a few drinks."

His response earned him a chorus of teasing remarks from the others, but Luke ignored them, his thoughts drifting to Y/N.

Meanwhile, across the room, a group of women had taken notice of the handsome hockey player and were whispering excitedly amongst themselves. Before Luke could react, a bold figure approached their table, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips.

"Hey there, handsome," she purred, leaning in close to Luke. "Mind if I join you?"

Luke's pulse quickened as he exchanged uneasy glances with his teammates. Despite the temptation that tugged at his heartstrings, he knew where his loyalty lay—with Y/N.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm taken," Luke replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for misinterpretation.

The woman's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Come on, don't be shy. I'm sure your girlfriend won't mind."

Luke's resolve hardened as he thought of Y/N, her image clear in his mind's eye. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. Please, respect my boundaries."

With a huff of frustration, the woman retreated, leaving Luke feeling both relieved and unsettled. His teammates exchanged surprised glances, clearly taken aback by his refusal.

"Wow, Luke, I didn't know you were in a serious relationship," Dawson remarked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Luke nodded, his expression solemn. "Yeah, it's just not something I like to broadcast to the world."

His teammates fell into a contemplative silence, the gravity of Luke's words sinking in. They had always assumed that Luke was just another young athlete enjoying the perks of fame and fortune, but his commitment to Y/N painted a different picture entirely.

As they continued their evening, Luke couldn't shake the feeling of relief that washed over him. Despite the brief moment of temptation, he had remained true to Y/N, reaffirming his loyalty and devotion to their relationship.

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The stadium buzzed with excitement as the New Jersey Devils prepared to take the ice for their next game. Among the sea of jerseys and cheering fans, Luke felt a familiar sense of anticipation building within him. Little did he know, this game would be unlike any other.

As the players filed onto the ice, Luke's focus was entirely on the game ahead. He scanned the crowd briefly, searching for a familiar face, but his attention was quickly drawn back to the task at hand.

Meanwhile, in the stands, Y/N sat nervously, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. She had carefully hidden her surprise from Luke, knowing that seeing her wearing his jersey would catch him off guard. But she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he spotted her in the crowd.

As the game progressed, the tension in the arena reached a fever pitch. The Devils fought valiantly against their opponents, their determination evident in every pass, every shot, and every save.

Then, midway through the second period, it happened. Luke's eyes swept over the crowd, and there, amidst the throng of cheering fans, he spotted her—Y/N, wearing his jersey with pride.

His heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight, disbelief and joy warring within him. He couldn't believe that she was here, supporting him in such a public and visible way.

"Is that... Y/N?" one of Luke's teammates exclaimed, his voice filled with astonishment.

The others turned to look, their eyes widening in surprise as they spotted Y/N in the stands, proudly displaying Luke's jersey. It was a sight they never expected to see, and for a moment, they were rendered speechless.

But Luke's reaction spoke volumes. A smile spread across his face, his eyes shining with love and gratitude as he locked gazes with Y/N. In that moment, everything else faded away—the crowd, the game, even the pressure of professional hockey.

All that mattered was the woman he loved, standing in the stands, supporting him with every fiber of her being.

Jack leaned back in his seat, a contented smile gracing his features as he watched his brother, Luke, reunite with Y/N after the game. The sight of them together filled him with a profound sense of happiness and warmth.

He had always known how much Y/N meant to Luke, but seeing them together, their love palpable in every glance and touch, was a powerful reminder of the strength of their bond.

As Luke wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close in a tight embrace, Jack couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his brother. Despite the challenges they had faced, Luke had remained steadfast in his love for Y/N, never wavering in his commitment to their relationship.

And now, as they stood together amidst the cheers of the crowd, Jack knew that this moment would be etched in their memories forever—a testament to the enduring power of love and the unbreakable bond between two souls.

With a smile of his own, Jack raised his glass in a silent toast to his brother and Y/N, wishing them a lifetime of happiness and love. As he watched them disappear into the crowd, hand in hand, Jack felt a sense of peace settle over him.

For in that moment, he knew that no matter what life threw their way, Luke and Y/N would always have each other, their love a beacon of hope and strength in a world filled with uncertainty. And for Jack, there was no greater joy than seeing his brother truly happy, surrounded by the love of the woman who meant everything to him.

sorry this is so short

#hockey #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #umich lb

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bullet-prooflove · 20 days

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Doing Something: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 '@wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion Piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

It’s the little things you do that Carmy falls in love with. The humorous texts throughout a long day, those light reassuring touches, the way you look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours when you think he’s not watching.

He doesn’t deserve you but that doesn’t stop him wanting to and he knows there’s only one way to do that. He needs to get healthy, to address the demons that scratch at his mind.

That’s how he ends up in therapy talking about the shit he never talks about because he knows if he keeps it all locked up inside then one day it’ll kill him, the same way it killed Mikey.

“I’ve been doing something.” He tells you one night when he’s cooking for you.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, updating the farm’s finances on your laptop before the words filter through to your brain and you incline your head towards him.

“Something illegal?” You question because you know about the coke Richie had to sling that time to get them a new compressor. “If you need money…”

“No.” He says, with a tinge of humour in his voice. “The days of cousin doing little wheeling and dealing in the back alley are far behind us.”

He’s touched that you’d put up the money though, he would never take it from you but he finds it endearing that you offered. You’ve already done enough with the discounts you give him on the produce, he knows you charge him a fraction of what you do the other restaurants in the area.

“OK.” You say as you raise to your feet. Your hands come to rest on his hips as you stand on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder, your body pressing against his back. “So what have you been doing?”

“Talking to someone.” He tells you, tilting his head so he can read your expression. “Getting help.”

It’s both exhilarating and terrifying being vulnerable with someone else. He knows that you will never judge him for his failings but there’s always this apprehension sitting in his chest.

“And how is that going?” You ask, your arms slipping around his waist, hugging him close.

“Good, I think.” He says as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I don’t really know yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask him and the edges of his mouth tip up into a smile as he whispers.

“You already are.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto imagine

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manicpixiefelix · 7 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 15.

Summary: Oliver's first night and the next morning at Saltburn, and you learn that not only does he know more about you and Felix than you'd assumed, but he knows even less about the social rules of a place like this than you'd imagined.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, we finally get the basis of the consensual pervert/enabler dynamic between oliver/reader(/felix). its implications in this chapter but will probably get more explicit in future.

A/N: 4908 words. venetia catton is a menace to society and i am in lvoe with her. set up is being set up!! we're getting there, friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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You wish you hadn't looked out of the window. You wished you hadn't cracked open the door to step onto the balcony. You wished you hadn't waited up.

Dinner had ended hours ago, and Felix was well and truly asleep, but you'd left your smokes on his balcony and had taken a break from going over the guest lists for the upcoming events that Duncan had provided you with. It was something you did every year, it helped calm your anxiety around these formal events, to be well versed on all the patrons in attendance, making everyone feel as though their place at Saltburn mattered, if only for a night. There was most certainly some deep, psychological root of your crippling social anxiety and fear of faux par and failure, but that was almost certainly a problem to investigate in the future.

The lilac study had been functionally unused since before even Felix had been born, sitting idle and untouched but beautifully furnished directly across from his room, on the other side of the long gallery, with a beautiful view of the gardens. It became unofficially your study many years ago, though sometimes Felix would use it too if he had some kind of Summer project he had to attend to. But now it was yours, set up with a bulky computer for the occasional emails from your family business that you were becoming slowly more involved in. Mostly, however, you spent your time thoroughly poring over these dossiers of guest lists with attached relevant information, committing all of them to memory.

After spending most of the day high, you felt guilty enough to get a head start on the Summer that evening.

But just before midnight you'd needed a smoke.

Oliver and Venetia painted so pale in the moonlight, Oliver half dressed and clearly ready for bed, Venetia with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that you knew she wouldn't have brought herself. It doesn't seem to be a particularly deep conversation, but you think you can see Venetia smiling, and a smile like that can never mean anything good. Surely she'd told Oliver some pretty lie about why she was out there, but her room was on the other side of the house.

Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and she is, and forever will be, Venetia Catton.

He will fall for her tricks, and you're sure part of her, just like her brother, just like yourself, would fall for part of Oliver's unsuspecting charms.

Just like she said she had with Eddie.

No, this was deliberate, you were sure; Venetia was playing this dangerous game again.

Retiring back to your study, you make sure to keep the door ajar to hear of anyone coming through the gallery. Saltburn is a creature that groans when you tread in the wrong places; you, like Duncan, had long ago mastered the art of moving around the house in total silence. None of the Cattons had ever felt it a necessary skill to learn. Oliver hadn't even been here a day. His footsteps practically echoed like drum beats.

"Everything okay, Ollie?" You shoot for casual, voice loud enough that you know he'd hear it in the quiet ambiance of the night, but that it wouldn't disturb Felix. The footsteps stop. There's no tell-tale creak of his door. Then, he moves towards you.

"How'd you know it was me?" Oliver, at your door, is shirtless. Oh. Right. Of course he was. He had been in the garden only moments before.

"I saw you downstairs," you say, trying to regain your train of thought. It's the easiest for him to digest, and most of the truth. He hadn't seemed to like the thought of you knowing his prescription earlier, even though you were just embarrassed to admit you'd stolen his glasses for a few days back in the first few months of meeting him, throwing enough money at an optometrist that they'd figured out his prescription from his current glasses. Right now you didn't want to tell him that you had spent enough time here that you could distinguish the Cattons from their staff, and distinguish each of the Cattons by footstep alone, and that Oliver's was so blatantly different to everyone else's that it was easy to deduce it was him. No, you don't say any of that.

"Oh," Oliver says awkwardly, shivering a little. Despite the heat of the day, it had cooled off considerably, "I spotted Venetia down there, I thought she might have been sleepwalking."

"Was she?" You ask with an automatic little smile, not wanting to give away how much you knew this to be Venetia's game.

"Said she was looking at the moon."

A sight you knew was perfectly visible from her own room. But you bite your tongue on that.

"So no?" You let the smile ease to something less robotic, something knowing, and Oliver sheepishly shook his head. Settling back in your chair in the lamp light, you look him over. Had he always looked so... you remember how he'd looked in the moonlight of your room and you have to look away, lest you get yourself flustered.

"Are you alright?" Oliver speaks up, taking a step into the study, finally letting himself look around. "Thought you'd be in bed."

"I'm meant to be," you admitted, "but I was getting ahead of this year's Summer schedule," you gesture to the book, and Oliver finally comes and joins you. He leans down over your shoulder, squinting at the pages, your shoulder pressed to his hip. He squints a little longer. Ah, "you're welcome to have a good look at it tomorrow," you offered brightly, pointedly not saying when you're wearing contacts and actually able to see, but Oliver thankfully seems to take the hint, even if he's still clearly awkward about the reminder. His hand then comes to rest on your shoulder, looking down at you and the way you're glowing in the gold light.

A moment passes; there's something on his mind, but you'll never push. Eventually it always comes out. It doesn't take long this time at least.

"Felix brought someone else to Saltburn, didn't he? Before; not just you," Oliver says softly, eyebrows knitting together. Fucking Venetia, you thought ruefully. Some of it must show on your face, because Oliver's hand comes up from your shoulders, thumb against the faintest scowl that has wrinkled your brow.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing really," he says faintly; while his expression is no longer concerned, there's something about the way he's watching you, cataloguing every small moment and movement of your face, each looking in your eyes, everything about you and your reaction that makes you feel... studied. Catalogued. Seen. You don't flinch away, don't move, just let yourself react, and let Oliver watch all the while. Then, after a moment, his hand is moving again, holding your chin, thumb running so gently over the curve of your lips, "called me lucky is all," he mumbled, as if transfixed by your face, by the way you're allowing this moment to go on, "said you didn't even like the last one." His words dip with disdain as he recalls what Venetia had said; what a snitch she was, you found yourself thinking.

"You need to be careful, Ollie," you tell him faintly, warning on your lips as you found yourself biting your tongue on a past that you don't feel is yours to really speak on. It was true that you had never been best friends with Eddie, but you were still rather fond of him. Even if that fondness was born from Felix's. Even if you were glad to be rid of him. Even if he hadn't even made it down the driveway before you were sending emails and worming your way into the Oxford administration usernet.

"Careful of the cold-blooded Cattons?" He asks, voice surprisingly idle, as if bored by the warnings, unphased by them. Where had his earlier trepidation gotten to, you wonder, right as Oliver gently caresses your cheek, "or should I be careful of you?" There's something in his voice that you're sure you'd only heard when he was looking up from between your thighs.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself meeting his curious gaze. The lamp paints his cool skin gold. One conversation with Felix and his hesitancy is gone. It's like you picked up right where you'd left off with each other before Felix's jealousy had awoken. It's actually a little infuriating, bordering on embarrassing, how taken you are with Oliver's quiet confidence.

After a moment in which you struggle to find the right words, Oliver actually smiles at you. It's almost condescending, like he understands the effect he has on you in these moments.

"Don't be jealous, pet," he tells you. Immediate, flustered shock flashes across your face before you can even stop it. But he doesn't tease, doesn't draw out the moment, he simply lets you breathe in and adjust to the moment, to his use of the nickname.

Saltburn creaks, the tell-tale noise of the old house settling into its foundation; Oliver, unfamiliar with the way the Estate echoes it's own, predicable, discordant melody of a night, looks to the door with sudden nerves once more. Something about his momentary uncertainty of his surrounds reminds you to breathe, to settle yourself like the house you practically grew up in.

You give a tired smile like it's all merely a joke, closing the dossier on the table in front of you.

"You should go to bed, Ollie," you tell him, voice nothing but warm and gentle, "we both should." Oliver ducks his head obligingly, stepping back from your seat to give you space, but still waiting patiently for you.

Once the lamp clicks off and the two of you are drenched in darkness, Oliver's voice cuts through the darkness as the two of you make your way to the lighter, long gallery.

"It must be nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you don't have to pretend."

"Pretend what?"

"You know, the thing that's going on with you and Felix, whatever you want to call it." He says it so casually that you respond without really thinking. After all, he had a point; it's one of the many reasons you loved Summers at Saltburn.

"I don't even know the right words for it," after a long moment to think, you admit sheepishly. Then, moving to the long gallery that's still dimly lit, you look to Oliver with mild confusion as you fully process his words, "you... know?" Oliver, shirtless and in his pyjama bottoms, leans casually against his doorframe with a coy little smile. "How much do you know?" His smile grows wider; even from here his eyes look like they're shining with amusement.

"I don't think that kind of talk's appropriate for polite company," he teases, and you can feel your heartbeat racing. Sure you weren't careful at university, but you thought you'd at least convinced everyone it was platonic. Somehow.

"What- Oliver what does that mean? What have you seen or heard or -?" You babbled, flustered beneath his knowing gaze that suddenly burned with desire.

"Don't you want to be wanted anymore?" Is all he offered, simply wishing you a good rest of your night, slipping into his room. You're left flustered and speechless and honestly getting a little hot and bothered trying to figure out exactly what he was implying, and what he had seen.

Back in your room, you flick on the lamp on your side of the bed, trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not disturb the already sleeping Felix as you undress yourself, searching for your pyjamas. You're so in your head thinking about the encounter you'd just had with Oliver, trying to understand all the implications he left unsaid, that you don't even hear Felix yawning and shifting in the bed, half woken by the light.

"Hot," he mumbles after a long, appreciative hum, wearing a wide smile that would have bordered on leering if you didn't know him better. Actually, it was leering, but if anyone was allowed to leer at you it would be half asleep Felix, "this is perfect," he muses, pulling back the blankets to make room for you on the bed next to him, "you can stay like this; come here, don't worry about the pyjamas, no-one cares about them -" and you're more than happy to tuck yourself up against him like this. Pyjamas were more a habit than anything else, and Felix draws shapes on your bare back as you're both falling asleep.

Yes, you think to yourself as you're drifting off, it is nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you didn't have to pretend.

The next morning you decide to chalk Oliver's boldness and implications up to the late hour, and don't feel the need to mention it over breakfast. Or, well, not all of it.

"Is there something wrong with the toast, pet?" Pamela asks gently across the table, her big, doe eyes boring into you where you'd been glaring down at your plate for the past five minutes. Venetia and Farleigh have been talking quietly together on Felix's other side, clearly comparing notes on Oliver already. Looking up at her just as the other two go quiet, you try and reassure her that everything's fine, even if your face hasn't quite gotten the message.

"Come on, shouldn't you just be happy that -" Venetia starts, but you cut her off before she can say something demeaning about either yourself or Oliver, knowing her too well to trust her mouth at any time of day, even over breakfast with the whole family.

"I am happy Ollie's here, Ven," you told her flatly, leaning forward to level an unimpressed look at her around Felix, "less thrilled about you being weird and coquettish outside my window," even though your façade doesn't show it, you're pleased by the pleased little cackle Felix covers with a sip of his drink, "do they not have the moon on your side of the house?" You snipe, and Venetia immediately rolls her eyes.

"See, I told you," Farleigh clicked his tongue pointedly, refusing to look at you in this moment, "possessive."

"Existing in my own home doesn't make me weird," Venetia gives a mean, humourless smile back, "and talking to our houseguest after he approached me doesn't make me coquettish."

"It does when you're doing it in that little, damn teddy nightgown and talking shit about me!"

"Christ, Vee," Felix sighed with faint disappointment. While your ribbing could be construed as playful or even jealous, Venetia always took Felix's negativity to heart. Not that he'd ever been able to tell that; Venetia always did well to hide her hurt behind further, thorny barbs.

"I wasn't talking shit," she sighed, terribly exasperated all of a sudden, "I just told him you were like one of those angry, little purse dogs Paris Hilton carries around," Venetia said without a hint of apology or remorse, "which of course makes Felix Paris -" Felix tears his slice of toast in half and jams both halves into Venetia's cup of tea without warning, causing her to shriek with absolute indignation.

"Felix, please," Elspeth sighs from beside Pamela, who'd all but leapt from her seat with shock, watching as two of the staff suddenly swarmed the flustered young woman to start cleaning the spilled, soiled drink from the table.

"'Felix, please'?" You huff mockingly under your breath before your best mate even gets the chance to be indignant for himself, "Venetia, please," you correct haughtily, though you're quietly glad that Elspeth has chosen to pointedly ignore you. However Venetia herself casts her gaze to you and Felix, both of you wearing near identical, childish looks of irritation, to which she responds in kind. Venetia sticks her tongue out at you both.

Pamela just watches Venetia's poor teacup despairingly as it's whisked away. Elspeth sighs deeply, and asks if anyone had informed Oliver what time breakfast would be. It had slipped your mind, and judging by the look on Felix's face, it had slipped his as well.

By the time Oliver joins you all, the tense atmosphere had disappeared, easing to something light and bright as you and the Catton family looked forward to the day, and to helping Oliver get properly acquainted with the Estate. During the discussion, the planning, you make a mental note to find one of the many beautiful books on Saltburn and the intricacies of it's heritage for Oliver to have a look at if he wanted to. While the idea of researching one's holiday home may not sound like the greatest idea of fun to most people, getting familiar with the house your best friend always took for granted made you feel like you understood it better, made you feel like you knew what you were settling yourself amongst.

"Y/N, dear, is that copy of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poetry still amongst your collection?" Sir James brings up, his eyes bright and wide. The book in all it's aged glory is sitting on your shelf in Oliver's room at that moment.

Very suddenly you're hit with a rush of affection, and the memory of a sweet summer afternoon, of being captured by Love's Philosophy written so simply on those pages. Those summer afternoons turned into evenings and the maze became the kind of magical only you could seem to feel, but that Felix would always indulge you in. Oh. You had to bring Oliver along, see if he could feel it too.

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, giving Sir James a smile across the long dining table. He seems delighted, apparently having read Percy Shelley's biography not to long ago, and has since wanted to reacquaint himself with the poet's work. For a moment, Venetia lights up with genuine interest and intrigue; for as long as you'd known her, she'd shared her father's passion for history, both harbouring a peculiar fascination for the sordid private lives of prominent creative figures.

Several years ago, Venetia had gifted her father the biography of Howard Hughes for Christmas; the following year, Sir James had pulled enough strings to get them both in attendance as VIPs for The Aviator's world premiere, the film based on that very same book. Venetia says the best part was meeting and having drinks with Leo DiCaprio; the only photo that she got properly printed and framed from the premiere, the one of her and her father beaming, says she's lying. They still spend hours in the library together when James isn't working. Venetia almost seems to be relaxed in those moments, from what you'd observed.

Oliver is back to being his quiet, awkward self when he finally makes it to the table, all fidgeting and uncertain steps towards the only empty chair at the table. Venetia lights up a cigarette as a new teacup is placed in front of her, both she and Farleigh observing Oliver's every movement with anthropological curiosity. So, instead of looking at either of them, Oliver looks to you, giving an almost nervous smile as he sits gingerly.

The mood is almost cripplingly uncomfortable.

Oliver tries to order a full English breakfast; Duncan looks like he'd just called his mother a cunt to his face.

The second hand embarrassment at the failed formality makes you feel like you're seconds away from some kind of empathetic anxiety attack, so you jump to your feet as the rest of the family act like they really live in a reality where every other person knew every secret high society script they were born knowing. They recover, but not quick enough for Oliver to not be tense, nor for you to not have made your way to the breakfast table on the side.

"Breakfast is on the side, darling," Elspeth says with an almost forcibly bright air, but falters as you call out that you've got it.

"You don't need to do that -" Oliver mumbles awkwardly, but is cut off when Venetia starts actually barking at you with a wide, mean smile.

This time, Felix picked up one of the cooked tomato halves from his plate, squishing it in his hand over Venetia's new cup of tea, letting the pulpy remains splatter into her now second ruined drink that she couldn't cover fast enough.

"How would you like your eggs?" Duncan ignores the petty siblings as the poor service staff once more whisk away Venetia's teacup, much to her exasperation. Oliver looks to the butler nervously, wondering if this was a joke or a test, assuring him that he could get them himself, but it's Farleigh who cuts in, voice like ice.

"The eggs are made for you," he explains coldly, barely looking up from whatever he had been working from, but his gaze flicks from Oliver's nervous expression to you, over his shoulder, carrying a plate loaded with food and scowling at him and his tone. Finally, convinced that it wasn't a joke, Oliver awkwardly asks for fried eggs from Duncan, who complies, and simply seems glad that the interaction had ended. When you put the plate down in front of Oliver, he glances up at you, almost looking apologetic.

"You really didn't have to -"

"I know," you responded cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "you can get yourself breakfast for the whole rest of Summer, but it's your first day."

"You're very kind, very good to me," Oliver looks up at you through his lashes, blue eyes shining, grateful, stumbling through his words, "you- you're very good." For just a moment there's a flash of something more deliberate in his eyes that the others don't seem to see, and he watches the way the praise hits you with intent.

"Oh my god," Venetia groans across the table, "it's like you want me to bark at you -"

"Venetia, I have more tomatoes," Felix warned without even looking at her, but pointing sharply to emphasise his words. You thanked him airily as you returned to your seat and he beamed at you while his sister called you both terribly childish. She did not appreciate being reminded that she was the one barking in the first place.

It's Felix who breaks the tension to tell Oliver about the earlier discussion about the Percy Shelley biography, but it's Venetia who brings up the story of the poet's doppelganger. As she regales them all with the story of the housekeeper seeing the image of Shelley waving at him out of the window before realising the poet was in Italy and he was on the third floor, she tells it as if it's simply some scandalous gossip. Felix Catton, in possession of something of a rabbit heart when it came to anything remotely spooky, begged his sister to stop, even going so far as to cover his ears, but she seemed to enjoy getting under his skin, blithely ending the story with the housekeeper drowning only hours after the event.

While Elspeth announces that the story gave her goosebumps, and you admit it did send a shiver down your spine, Farleigh blurts out, without looking up from his notebook -

"I heard he fucked his sister."

While Sir James clearly didn't appreciate the addition, it's surprisingly Oliver who finds his voice.

"I think that was Byron."

The certainty of the correction is enough to get Farleigh to actually look up from his work. That's not how this was meant to go, at least that's what you think is on Farleigh's mind. Very rarely was Farleigh corrected at Saltburn; either the Catton's weren't as well researched on whatever he was spouting nonsense about, or they simply didn't care, but the point is Farleigh wasn't corrected at Saltburn. Farleigh could get away with the little white lies he told for fun here. He certainly wasn't fact checked by a newcomer at breakfast with the whole family.

When Oliver looks away from Farleigh, across to you and Felix, he sees the near identical smug little smiles you're both giving him. Both of you look rather pleased, and you see him almost grow rather flustered across the table. At least until Duncan sets a plate of fried eggs down in front of him.

Oliver's face falls, fork prodding the warm, gooey yolks almost like he's cautious of them.

You're back to watching, to observing and cataloguing further information about your guest. Runny eggs make Oliver sick; he looks it too, or perhaps that's simply the discomfort that comes from knowing he'll have Duncan's intense presence looming over him to take away what he'd just so kindly brought. Skin prickling with discomfort and desire to help, despite knowing there was nothing you could do, you fidget and try to finish your own food.

"Think I might head down for a swim after this," you hadn't, but you needed to say something to break the silence. Venetia and Felix are both quick to jump on the idea with enthusiasm, and Farleigh reluctantly agrees, if only to not feel left out. Across from you all, Oliver's trying to make himself as small as possible as he works on the breakfast you'd brought him. Never assuming, always waiting for an invitation, even now - "you game, Ollie?" You grinned.

Of course he was.

All you could think about as you searched for your nice bathers was how different Oliver was from last night. Then, your mind wandered back to that conversation, to all he had said, all he had implied. Catching a glimpse of Felix, already ready in just his swim trunks, towel slung over his shoulder, leaning and looking so effortlessly gorgeous and tanned already in the doorframe, you think of Oliver's implications. Clearly he'd seen enough of the two of you in private to understand the extent of your actual relationship, and considering the shit you got away with in public, and how both you and Felix admittedly couldn't be too bothered with things like closing the blinds when you have other things on your mind, you've got something of an idea of what Oliver may have seen. No, it wasn't appropriate for polite company.

But he'd slept with you, had seen and possibly heard you with Felix, and clearly had a thing for Felix himself. Why was he holding back? Why was he continuing to tease you the way he had last night? What kind of game was he playing?

Fine, if Oliver wanted to be a tease, wanted to play games, you could more than match his energy.

One of the many skills you'd picked up from a life spent next to the effortlessly attractive Felix, was learning how to put in the effort to appear effortlessly attractive even in comparison, in any situation. Of course you were hot, that was a given, but there was an art to the way you moved and smiled and behaved and posed and focused attention on yourself like it was a science you'd absolutely perfected.

Which is how Oliver, the last to arrive to the little, wooden jetty by the lake, found you laying out, glittering and glistening with water as the droplets clung to you, had your flattering bathers clinging to you in just the right way. Feet hanging over the edge, you arch your back just enough to tilt your head back, to watch him approaching upside down. Hands appearing casual, but carefully placed, one rested on your hip and lower belly, while the other reached out to give him a wave, your smile wide and sharp.

The others greet him, and though his gaze momentarily flicks to them, it always returns to you. Your back arches higher as you laugh, almost lifting you up to sitting, but you lay flat when he's on the jetty, when he's standing over you with a curious look.

"Hello gorgeous Ollie," you say with a teasing grin, "was beginning to get worried we might have lost you in there," you tell him, at least trying to look like you were trying to keep your expression serious, "its a big house."

"Are you high again?" He asks, and your smile grows all wide and sharp and amused. You shake your head.

"Why?"

"No reason," he says after a beat. Again there's quiet, apart from Felix and Farleigh squabbling over something trivial back on the grass. Oliver examines you, unashamedly letting his gaze roam down your body, the way you've displayed yourself so almost casually.

"Everything alright, Ollie?" You ask after a moment, reaching out to gently touch the side of his knee, contact, reminding him all at once to get out of his head, that this was reality. But your voice drops low enough that the others wouldn't hear, hand coming away, breaking the contact as you level a Cheshire smile at him, "is there something you want?"

Already it's worth it, since you see the exact moment Oliver realises what you're playing at. There's a sharp intake of breath, but an appreciative look in his eyes that quickly flick down your body once more. Then, he turns away, face quickly turning red as you all but cackle with glee.

The game has begun.

If all Oliver Quick could bring himself to do was watch, you'd put on a fucking show.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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eightballspins · 4 months

Text

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡ romantic gestures intak does for you

pairing : (p1h) intak x male reader

rating : ofc, its fluff!!!!

warnings : none :)

ʚɞ the type of guy who pulls up to every date with something in his hands; whether it be flowers, sweet treats, a little gift, there's always something that he has for you that you add onto your collection of intak's cute gifts. he loves seeing that sparkle in your eyes when you notice he has something for you, no matter how big or small it is. so he's made it a mission of his to be able to bring that excitement to you on each of your guys' dates.

and of course it gets him a lot of kisses and affection in return so, that's another huge plus for him.

ʚɞ he would definitely love matching with you and going shopping for said matching clothes. he loves it whenever you guys have little subtle hints of being each others that others can also see. he has a small chain necklace that has your first initial on it, he never goes anywhere without it. he loves color coordinating with you, thinks its so adorable if you also have matching accessories (he will definitely buy you a necklace with the initial "h" and "i" on them).

the buying each other clothes part is also a very calm and fun activity he loves doing with you. going in and out of the fitting rooms together, goofing around in all the shops you walk into, getting to see you look particularly handsome in outfits he chooses - it's all perfect to him.

ʚɞ for anniversaries and big dates in your relationship, trust he is putting in the most effort into whatever extravagent plan you will be surprised with. on your one year anniversary, he took you to a beautiful roof top dinner in a private room so that no one could bother you two, a skyline view of seoul, and the most delicious food. he, of course, feeds you every single bite of your meal, smiling so fondly at you as he does so. it would make anyone blush with the way he so adoringly looks at you. he just lvoes spoiling you and, while he genuinely does do it every day, these big anniversaries are an excuse to go particulary "overboard" (he doesn't think it is, but you have repeatedly told him that he doesn't always need to - he begs to differ). he just loves making his man happy!

ʚɞ will literally do anything to make you comfortable. he's super attentive when it comes to you, so even if you aren't saying anything, he'll recognize your body language and see that you're uncomfortable and do anything in his power to make things right. if you're sitting outside on one of your cafe dates and the sun is bothering you, he switches seats with you in an instant even if that means the sun is glaring right into his eyes now. the person that you've been talking to for the past couple of minutes is beginning to make you uncomfortable, he's giving the perfect excuse for both of you to leave that conversation. he's really a true gentleman, he'll do anything to make sure you're feeling safe and alright.

"baby, we don't have to wait in the cold like this," he suggests, grabbing your gloved hand in his and squeezing.

"we can't leave the line and i really want to try this food, intak," you whine, making him pout at the sound and it's almost as if he feels a physical part of his heart break off at your voice.

it's winter and there's this really good restaurant you and intak have been meaning to try. the only issue is: they don't take reservations and only let you in after you've waited however long the wait time is - which is usually more than an hour. it's been thirty minutes and it began snowing ten minutes ago, not helping with the already freezing temperatures.

"here," he goes through his pockets and pulls out the car keys, "wait in the car with the heater, okay? i don't want you getting frostbite,"

"what about you? i'm not leaving you out here alone," you argue, but he just shakes his head.

"i'll be fine, sweetheart, i can't stand seeing you this cold," he says, his pleading eyes making you almost cave in. but you weren't about to leave your boyfriend out alone in this weather while you were warm and toasty in the car.

"i don't need the car heater, it's okay," you force his hand down and into his pocket, so he can forget about the key. instead, you take him into your arms and give him a tight squeeze. "we can just share body heat like this!"

it's not as effective as a car heater, that's for sure. but intak is happy to have you in his arms and be able to provide you with some warmth himself. so he doesn't complain, practically burying you in the sleeves of his thick puffer jacket and soothing humming a song as you two wait.

yes, you guys looked like those clingy couples waiting in line at amusement parks. yes, it made you get a handful of stares. but intak was happy to have you in his arms and you were actually warming up, so neither of you minded.

plus, the wait was worth it in the end!

ʚɞ the way he's absolutely willing to drop everything for you. both literally and figuratively. keeho told you that, one time when you texted him when they were at the gym together that you wanted some conveince store food, intak stopped spotting him immediately. thankfully, keeho could manage the weight on his own since he was jsut warming up, but if he actually needed an extra set of hands to help him pull the weight up, he would've been fucked with how fast intak disregarded his duties as a spotter. the second intak got that text from you, he was out of the gym in record time and meeting you at the designated spot, a carefree smile on his lips.

and that example isn't even that extreme compared to the other instances.

one time, you had texted intak while he was in the shower (yes, he brings his phone into the shower. yes, it's specifically for the reason on if you text him, he wants to reply as soon as possible) that you wanted to have a movie night. he had tripped and face planted on the tile floor of their shared bathroom with how fast he was running out of the shower. the boys heard a loud bang and immediately came running, only to find a naked intak writhing on the floor holding his leg in pain and his phone screen cracked with the way it so harshly fell onto the floor.

and instead of worrying about his own state, intak said through gritted teeth, "tell [name] i'll see him in ten!" and the members really wondered what type of spell you put intak under. they threw his towel onto his body and theo did the honors of snapping a picture of him in his very embarassing state and sending it to you with the caption intak had said, plus an additional teasing comment on how love sick your boyfriend was.

┆ just intak beign so sickly in love with he can only look at you with love and adoration in his eyes at the LOVE DRUNK smile on his face. ugh i love intak. intak ii love u <3

#intak x male reader #intak x reader #p1h intak x male reader #p1h intak x reader #intak imagines #male reader #x male reader #kpop idol x male reader #male reader imagines #x reader #hwang intak x male reader #p1harmony x male reader #p1h x male reader #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony intak x male reader #p1harmony imagines #p1h imagines

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pfhwrittes · 4 months

Text

inspired by @femalefemur’s post and my tags:

#johnny sends this to his transmasc partner post top surgery #no one can change my mind on this #he's so used to you calling your tits your tits that he's adopted it #so when you send him “im fcukin bobless babbbyy” while still fighting off anaesthetic he absolutely cracks up #just completely loses it #and he has to show gaz the messages to explain why he's laughing so hard #gaz's eyebrows shoot up his forehead and god that's even funnier to johnny for some reason so he can barely breathe when he sends back - #- “thats braw handsome” and he can tell you're probably squinting SO hard at your messages from the way the dots indicating you're typing - #- keep popping up and disappearing over and over #eventually you just send him a blurry selfie of your loopy grin and part of the hospital gown #with a “lvoe uu” #jm #sorry cyn i have no idea where that spark of inspiration came from #and i probably should've put it in its own post instead of the tags #but here we are now #ily!

and @syoddeye’s reply:

@/pfhwrittes thank you for the notes fic, fucking adore it. definitely loses his shit when his partner, still woozy, smiles all dorky “I got my toys off AND a boyfriend?? wow…love it here.”

pairing: john mactavish x transmasc!reader

500ish of barely edited words below the cut.

warnings: post-surgical procedure inebriation, references to surgical procedure (top surgery), fluff.

–

your head feels both light as air and heavier than your parent’s disappointed gaze when the lovely nurse smiles at you and kindly informs you that “your boyfriend and friend will be coming in to see you, sweetheart.”

you think you blink and sigh softly in response.

wow, no tits and two boyfriends? this place is great!

two rumbling laughs cause your eyes to flutter open and you’re already beaming as two beautiful and familiar faces swim into view from the end of the incredibly comfortable bed you’re laying on.

“oh mate, you’re well out of it, aren’t ya?”

oh he’s so pretty! so smiley and pretty!

there’s another laugh, this one closer and your head swivels, bobbles, rolls, as you look down at a large warm hand holding your own. you blearily follow the hand, up past the faded inky shield and sword tattoo, to gaze into the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“j’nny!” you beam, utterly delighted by the way his eyes crinkle warmly and the hand squeezes your own slightly.

“‘m here, my braw, bonnie lad.”

another warm hand reaches over from the other side of the bed to hold your free hand, mindful of the large white dressing on the back, and you’re dazzled by the smooth brown skin.

kyle’s holding my hand!

“yep, sure am, mate.” kyle’s voice shakes with barely restrained laughter.

it’s like looking into the sun, so warm and pretty.

your eyes drift closed again as you hear johnny and kyle talk softly over your reclined form.

–

some time later, you’re not sure how long exactly but the light from the window in your room has gone soft and golden, your eyes slowly blink open. your mouth feels dry and tacky, and you can hear the muted sounds of two animated siblings squabbling on the tv in the corner of the room.

“-think of him more as a large brother. no offence.”

“yes, offence!”

you blink woozily as a callused palm smooths your sweaty hair away from your temple.

“how’re ye feelin’ now handsome boy?” johnny asks gently.

you nuzzle into his palm and grumble weakly.

“aye, prob’ly a wee bit thirsty, hm?”

you nod your head slowly, still feeling like you’ve been stuffed full of cotton, and feel the way the motion pulls oddly at the lump of white stretchy fabric on your chest. you drop your chin to stare at the smooth flat shape that makes up the surgical binder.

slowly, you lift your head to gaze wide eyed and delighted at johnny before flicking your eyes over to kyle who has been watching you carefully from the slightly more comfortable chair in the corner of the room.

“alright mate?” kyle asks carefully.

you beam.

“i‘m fuckin’ awesome.”

–

three slightly wet sounding laughs fill the room as the nurse shuffles in, a large jug of water in one hand and a tiny paper cup of pills in the other. she takes a moment to smile to herself, unnoticed by her patient and the two handsome men radiating pride and love that are with him.

the lucky devil.

#binders and boyfriends #john soap mctavish x reader #transmasc!reader #tw surgery mention #jm #kg #this is all semi-autobiographical fluff at this point

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jvkeh · 1 year

Note

mean Dom!hhu? :(

anon. i lvoe u.

MEAN DOM HHU

⤷ c.w degradation, spanking, multiple nicknames, grinding, threesome (little implication of mlm in vergyu), pure filth | © jvkeh

SEUNGCHEOL & WONWOO

“are you close, angel?” wonwoo’s tone resembled arrogance, the knowledge that you were inable to orgasm but still being teased, giving him a ego boost. “your cunt is whining for it.”

he wasn’t lying. your pussy squelched under the bullet vibrator, the sounds bouncing off the walls as your cheeks heated in embarrassment. embarrassment of being caught getting too close with yoon jeonghan and hong jisoo , embarrassment of having your dress not fully zipped, embarrassment of being thrown into your bed the next house over and edged for two hours on end. that’s what happened when you tested choi seungcheol and jeon wonwoo, two of the most dominant men in the friendship group.

so it came to no surprise of their mutual friends when you were forcefully tugged out of the couch between the j boys and thrown over one of your boyfriend’s shoulders, them shouting flirty comments at you as you were steered out of the building, walking only a few steps before reaching your own house, seungcheol making work of unzipping your dress as wonwoo removed your stockings before being slapped on the ass with so much force that it knocked you onto the bed.

seungcheol’s fingers harshly entered your cunt the same way it exited, finally relieving you of the endless torture that the toys they used subjected you to. you were bent over seungcheol’s lap and spanked multiple times as wonwoo’s cum shot onto your ass, then edged with a mold of wonwoo’s cock, wonwoo’s fingers brutally attacking your clit while seungcheol rubbed over your labia, nearly blacking you out from the sensation.

and once you came in their face, seungcheol did not hesitate in inserting a bullet vibrator far up your pussy while wonwoo began to jack off again at the sight of seungcheol eating you out, when you were already so sensitive.

“urgh, god. cheol, wonu.” you squeal as your core begins to tense up, a spoiler to your pending orgasm. you clench your legs and tighten it around seungcheol’s neck as he begin to lick deeper and deeper into your pussy, before you let out a loud cry and arch your back, releasing everything pent up from the painful treatment of your boyfriends. “argh!”

you rested your head back down on the pillow, eyes clenched as you physically felt your cum leaking out of your cunt, seungcheol continuing to suck on your clit softly, letting out a breathy “fuck.” . despite the ringing of your ears, you could make out wonwoo’s voice, before soft hands curled around your waist and lifted you up, resting you upwards against the bedframe instead of flat down. “open your eyes angel.”

you cautiously opened your eyes, face to face with seungcheol, who’s face was dripping with a milky substance. your eyes widened as he let out a hearty laugh, wonwoo smirking from behind. “you squirted all over his face, angel. are you proud?”

“she flirts with them, yet she was the one who claimed me.” seungcheol shooked his head, licking his lips to capture the close remains of your release as you blushed. even though he was very obvious about his bold and confident actions, you still couldn’t help but be flustered, a stark contrast to wonwoo’s subtle but intense ones.

wonwoo’s finger reached out to collect a drop of cum sliding down seungcheol’s mouth, before bringing it to his own to suck on, nodding in approval. “nothing taste better than a mean fuck.”

VERNON & MINGYU

“‘m sorry!” you whine out as you’re dragged away from the door that vernon closed into the living room, watching mingyu aggressively open the first few buttons of his restrictive shirt before turning back to you. “belt or hands?”

“neither.” you say in a factual tone, before mingyu and vernon scoff in sync. “what?”

“is she really going to mouth off despite what she did?” mingyu mutter to the younger boy, who’s in complete disbelief at your attitude. “we really need to teach her a lesson.”

mingyu sat on the couch, spreading his legs as far as he can to accommodate you, as vernon steered you towards him, his strength outrivalling yours despite your best efforts. mingyu grabbed your arms and pulled you forward to him, before adjusting you until you were properly seated over his lap, legs dangling off the couch. he flipped up your short skirt, the same one that hoshi was ogling you in, the tight fitting tiger print highlighting your thighs.

“any last words, love?” mingyu’s calm voice was a deathly contradiction to the pure anger on his face. his hand levitated above your ass, plotting it’s positions as vernon unbuckled his pants. you have been in this situation too many times. petty argument escalates to all day ignoring, before saying or doing something out of line that makes you ends up on either mingyu’s lap or under vernon’s body. but there was a new addition to the exploited formula for good sex today, a public event that required mingyu and vernon to hold back from immediate punishment and watch you cosy up to the birthday boy and his best friend.

four long grueling hours of witnessing their friends pretend they didn’t want to fuck you. halfway, hoshi and dokyeom arrived to compliment your outfit (a tight fitting skirt and a silk cami top that showed off skin everywhere), and you continued to talk to the four men with seductive expressions, in which mingyu could swore at some point, hoshi had a boner.

“remember the stoplights, baby.” vernon grunts as he finally got his hand on his cock, which was mingyu’s cue to start torturing your ass. his hand slammed down on your perky butt as you let out a yelp. “argh!”

“don’t start cryin on us, slut.” mingyu grins, letting out a extreme pinch to your behind as you begin to shift on his lap. “you discarded our rules, so now you pay the price.”

vernon began to stroke himself to the beat of mingyu’s slaps, as he got closer until his groin was directly above your body and he was right in front of mingyu. pained mumbles and pants left your mouth as mingyu continued his assault on your ass, all hopes of begging for redemption lost. mingyu was the more forgiving of the two, with vernon being more susceptible to petty behaviour. but when mingyu was mad, vernon took the calm route, because mingyu’s brat taming skills were another level.

“fuck, baby. your cries are turning me on.” vernon’s cock was already stiff in it’s slacks when you were making crude comments in the car, but it reached it’s full potential after you started crying a few seconds into the sex. mingyu’s hands were big and heavy, and you could never get used to how much it hurted when he spanked you.

you looked up, eyelashes wet with tears as vernon could only let out a groan. mingyu, focused on making sure you were hurting, looked upwards at the same time to see your face drenched with tears.

“god, she looks so pretty, doesnt she?” he mutters as his own cock begin to tighten under your body. (he will have to treat that with his boyfriend later..) “love it when she cries like a little slut.”

you let out a even louder cry at the insults, your cunt clenching under the degradation they were sending to you. how vile, how dehumanising, how hot-

mingyu’s hand begin to pause from his spanking and decided to tease your cunt, the other snaking to vernon’s cock before stroking him at a harder pace. “gotta make both of my babies come.” you thought he was joking when he said the other day that he thinks he’s ambidextrous, but from the way his fingers turned and rubbed the right spots and the sounds both you and your boyfriend was producing, you realise he might be right.

“f-fuck, i’m almost there.” you whined, looking up to vernon’s face being flushed red as mingyu’s thumb played with the tip. “yeah babe, so close.”

you shut your eyes tightly, anticipating yourself to overcome the obstacle before your orgasm, and hearing the familiar sound of vernon orgasming loudly before you feel all the sensations fading away.

“what?” you opened your eyes, confused at why you didn’t cum. mingyu’s hand was pulled away from your cunt last minute, a look of amusement on his face. “wh-why didn’t you make me cum?”

“did you really think a brat like you would get a orgasm, free of charge?”

taglist

@enhacolor @duolingofanaccount

#jvkeh #seventeen smut #svt smut #kpop smut #hhu smut #wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #mingyu smut #vernon smut

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