#it’s about keeping everyone safe just like in a night club | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smileysuh · 1 year

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Energizer Bunny

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “With me here, you’re in no danger at all,” the white wolf hybrid says. “However- I think everyone else might be in danger of becoming quite enamored with you.” You’ve heard about predator hybrids having prey fetishes- with bunnies being an often glorified playmate option- but you’ve never truly witnessed it firsthand, not like you have tonight.

cw/tw. unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, bunny hybrid fetishes, praise, big dick hyuck, semi-inappropriate boss x subordinate relationship, hand holding sex, slight choking, slight overstim, dumbification, slight dacryphilia, begging, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, dirty talk, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 19.1k

🍭 aus. hybrid au, brother!mark, bunny!reader, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. there's just something about Hyuck

1: Friday

“I just don’t see why you won’t let me come visit you while you’re at work,” you sigh, looking your brother up and down while you cross your arms over your chest. “And before you even open your mouth to tell me that ‘it’s not a fun club’ or ‘it’s not always safe,’ I’ll have you know that it’s a top rated hybrid friendly bar, and also that it will be safer for me and my friends because you work there-”

“I just really don’t think it’s a good idea,” Mark groans, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Well, too bad,” you say defiantly. “Your friends keep saying I should stop by, and that wolf dude you’ve been bringing over invited me too-”

“Yuta did?” Now you’ve grabbed Mark’s attention, and he stops in his tracks on the way to the door. He gets finicky about being to work on time, but it seems that the mention of his new ‘friend’ is enough to trump his bunny hybrid time anxieties.

“Uh huh,” you confirm. “You went down to the lobby to get our dinner delivery and he mentioned that it’s odd he’s never seen me around before- something about me already knowing Jeno and Jaemin, and the club always being in need of good little bunny hybrids, with our sensitive noses.”

“Well that’s the last time I invite Yuta over-” Mark groans for the umpteenth time. “Look, I just really don’t think it’s a good place for you.”

“Mark, you know how hard it can be for hybrids like us to get good jobs in this town.”

“Who said my job is a good job?”

“The paycheck you get every month, and the tips, that’s who.” You take a deep breath. “Look- money is still kind of tight- can you imagine how good it would be if we could both be working? I hate to say it Mark, but I’m pretty sure I’d get more tips than you could working at a bar.”

“I’m just-” Mark shakes his head, “you’d get eaten alive in there.”

“Not with you hovering around- and Jeno’s a doberman, he could protect me!” Your brother doesn’t look convinced so you go for a hybrid even higher on the food chain than the puppy you often find yourself enthralled with; “Yuta seems like a good guy.”

“Wolves eat bunnies in the wild,” Mark reminds you, “don’t forget about that part.”

From the vibes Yuta’s given off the two or so times you’ve met him, you can confirm that the wolf definitely wants a piece of your bunny hybrid brother- “Let me come by tonight,” you say again, “just to see what it’s like.”

“Something tells me you’re going to do what you want even if I say no,” Mark sighs, picking up his keys and testing them in the palm of his hand. “If you and your friends really want to see the club tonight- just invite Jeno too, he’s not on shift, and I’d feel better knowing he’s there with you.”

“Mark, it’s just a club, a club you work at- you shouldn’t be so worried about my safety.”

“And you shouldn’t be so sure it’s a safe place for a bunny like you.”

2: Friday con't

Although Jeno’s spent a few nights out with you and your friends, it’s always been with Mark and Jaemin hanging around too. Walking into his work place with a bengal cat, bunny and a fellow doberman hybrid - all three of whom are gorgeous girls - makes Jeno feel like he’s on top of the world, and he has to make a conscious effort to stop his tail from wagging with pride.

“This place is so cool!” you beam, grabbing onto Jeno’s arm as he leads you through the large open space bar. He likes the way you tuck into his arm, looking around with eyes full of bunny wonder - it had taken both Mark and Jaemin a few shifts to get used to all the lights, sounds and smells.

The happy doberman sometimes considers what it would be like to be a prey hybrid - someone at the bottom of the food chain - however, he doesn’t envy you.

On your left Yeji is grinning, already throwing flirty glances at a few men by the bar, and on Jeno’s right, Ryujin is walking with her hands in her pockets, a vision of doberman watchdog calmness.

“I thought you said this was a hybrid bar,” Yeji comments, her cat ears flickering with interest, “I’m not seeing many hybrids.”

Before Jeno can respond, you’re nodding. “I’d say less than half of the people here are like us.”

He marvels at how quickly a prey hybrid like you can read a room for danger, and he’s shocked that you don’t know more about the way the club is run. “Hasn’t Mark told you guys anything about this place?”

“What do you mean?” Ryujin asks, her gaze darting to him.

“This is just the front room, humans and hybrids allowed. The real fun is in the back room, hybrids only.”

“Hybrids only?” Your eyes have widened. “Is that allowed?”

Jeno had asked the same question when he’d been hired, and his raven manager, a regal, intelligent man named Doyoung, had explained that with all the discrimination and segregation the hybrids had faced in the past- well, they all deserved a safe space too. He’d also compared it to a gay bar, but Jeno’s not about to confuse you by making the connection himself.

“It’s legal,” he assures you. “Look, there’s Mark!”

The doberman hybrid is always happy to see his bunny best friend, and Jeno almost forgets himself and lets go of you in favour of lumbering towards your brother- but your grip on his arm makes him be patient. When Mark catches his eye, Jeno can feel his tail wagging again, and an enthusiasm bubbles in his chest.

“You guys came.” Mark, on the other hand, doesn’t sound too enthusiastic, but he makes a visible effort to force a smile.

“Of course we came!” Yeji beams, pulling Mark into a hug.

The bunny stiffens in the cat’s grasp, and Jeno can’t help but grin. Mark used to have a pretty big crush on Yeji, and Jeno will be sure to put in a good word for him tonight.

“Well this is surprising.” Jaehyun, the black lab hybrid on Mark’s right, is looking the small group up and down. Jeno can feel himself deflate a little under his hyung’s gaze.

“They’re with me,” Mark says quickly, letting out a small cough. “Uh, this is my sister, and her two friends.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Jaehyun’s eyes linger on you for a few moments.

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that,” Mark sighs. “You guys can all go in, but uh-” he pulls Jeno to his side, lowering his voice, “there’s a lot of Level Fours inside tonight, so try to be quick? I don’t want anyone to get… overwhelmed.”

By anyone, Mark clearly means you, and it warms Jeno’s heart to see his friend be so protective of his sister. “You got it Mark,” he nods, bringing two fingers up to his forehead in a mock salute. “I’ll keep my eye on all three of our girls.”

Yeji practically purrs at Jeno’s words, grabbing onto his arm as Jaehyun opens the door to let them into the back room of the club.

The doberman definitely feels like a big dicked dude now, walking into the hybrid only section of the bar with two pretty girls on his arms… and Ryujin, of course.

“What did Mark mean when he said there’s a lot of Level Fours here tonight?” you ask, and it takes a moment for Jeno to properly register your question.

“Oh uh- it’s a ranking system we have here.” He clears his throat. “So- prey hybrids like you and Mark are Level Ones, and the ranking goes up to Level Five. Basically, Mark was just letting me know we have a lot of Level Four big predator hybrids here tonight- wolves, bears, tigers- that sort of thing.”

You open your mouth as if to ask more questions, but before any words can come out, Jeno’s attention is captured by one of his hot coworkers stationed at the bar.

“Let’s go get drinks,” he announces. “First round’s on me!”

3: Friday con't

“I didn’t know Mark had a sister.”

“What?” Johnny looks up from his drink, leaning closer to Haechan to follow his gaze. “Who?”

“That girl with puppy boy Jeno.” Haechan nods towards you.

“How do you know she’s Mark’s sister?” Johnny asks, taking a sip of his beer.

Haechan cocks his head ever so slightly, somewhat annoyed that even after all this time, he has to explain himself to a bear hybrid below his rank. “I can smell the family resemblance.”

“You can smell the family resemblance,” Johnny repeats with a chuckle. “Your nose never ceases to amaze me. It’s as good as any Level One hybrid’s.”

“Are we talking about Mark’s sister?” The wolf on Haechan’s other side leans in now too, and Haechan smirks at the way his most hardworking bunny employee has Yuta wrapped around his finger.

However, there’s a familiarity in Yuta’s words that doesn’t exactly sit right with Haechan. “You know her?”

“Met her a few times now- and you’re right, there’s something about the Lee bunnies,” Yuta’s gaze darkens, “they always smell particularly tasty.”

“Why have you never mentioned her before?” Haechan can feel himself getting aggravated, he doesn’t like it when his friends keep things from him, especially not pretty little things like you. “And why isn’t she working here yet?”

“Slow down-” Yuta gives his head a small shake, and the slight pink tint to his skin tells Haechan he’s probably already had too many drinks. “I’m the one who told her to come visit- Mark has this thing about your club being dangerous-”

“My club?” Haechan scoffs. “Dangerous?”

“You know how easy it is to scare a bunny,” Yuta’s grin widens wolfishly.

Haechan takes a moment to consider his options. “How about you go buy a round for Mark’s sister and her friends. On the house. As a welcome to our dangerous club.”

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” Yuta asks, but he’s already pulling himself to his feet to follow through.

“Like you said,” Haechan sighs, “bunnies scare easy. We all remember how Mark reacted when I met him for the first time.” All three upper level hybrids let out laughter, but Haechan’s subsides quickly. “I’m not looking to scare her off. I’ll stay here, in VIP, for now- I’m sure I’ll get to meet her sometime soon. Something tells me this little bunny will be back.”

4: Friday con't

You smell the wolf before he’s even fully approached you, but you give him the grace of allowing him to sneak up on your rear as you stand by the bar.

“Funny seeing you again,” Yuta’s voice is as smooth as ever.

You turn to look at him, taking in his white hair and pretty wolf ears. He’s dressed in a simple dress shirt with black pants, and the outfit compliments his pretty ashy colouring. Sharp canines glint at you when he smiles.

“You invited me to come see the club,” you remind him. “How could I pass this up?”

Instead of responding, Yuta catches the eye of the bartender. “Another round for me and my friends,” he announces, “and one for Jeno too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s on the house,” he assures you with a dismissive wave of his hand. Yuta’s gaze shifts past you to where Jeno and Ryujin are in a heated debate over some doberman hybrid thing- “I see you have two watchdogs tonight, and a kitty running around- they seem to like the place, but how do you feel being here?”

“Is my anxiety that obvious?” you laugh, running a hand over the back of your neck in an effort to calm yourself. You’ve been doing your best- but the bright lights, loud sounds and the smells of the club are a lot to get used to.

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, little bunny,” Yuta grins. “The pretty scent of bunny fear only adds to your allure… which is why most bunnies feel more comfortable in the general section, with humans- pretty prey hybrids like you are less inclined to come back here, where it’s a little more… dangerous.”

You blink up at Yuta. “Am I really in that much danger?”

“With me here, you’re in no danger at all,” the white wolf hybrid says, grabbing at the drink that’s placed by his hand. Then he leans in, breath teasing by your throat, “however- I think everyone else might be in danger of becoming quite enamoured with you.”

When he pulls away, his gaze lingers on your face, and you can feel your heart picking up speed in your chest.

You’ve heard about predator hybrids having prey fetishes- with bunnies being an often glorified play mate option- but you’ve never truly witnessed it first hand, not like you have tonight.

You can feel your throat getting dry, and the power behind Yuta’s gaze makes you fold, eyes flickering down to your own drink. You’re glad you’ve only been ordering small cocktails, as they’re much easier to drink than the beer in Yuta’s hand.

“Thank you very much for the mojito,” you say. “I hate to disappoint you, but I was actually just planning on finding my friend Yeji and getting out of here-”

Like the perfect bengal kitty she is, Yeji appears a moment after you say her name, a pretty grin on her face. “You called?”

She’s looking Yuta up and down, and he returns her flirty gaze with one of his own.

“Yeji, this is Yuta, he bought us a round,” you hand her the gin and tonic the bartender had left by your hand, “he’s one of Mark’s friends-”

“One of his bosses, actually.”

This is news to you, and you falter a little, but Yeji takes the cup from your hand, teasing the straw past her lips. “Mark never mentioned he had a cute wolf hybrid boss,” she flirts.

“He never mentioned he had a cute kitten for a friend either,” Yuta returns Yeji’s smile, and you catch another glimpse of sharp teeth.

Before they can continue flirting, Jeno and Ryujin join the conversation, their own drinks in hand. “The bartender said you got us a round?” Ryujin asks in confusion.

“Oh shit-” Jeno runs a hand through his hair, cheeks flaring an even brighter shade of pink than they already were, “Mister Nakamoto-”

“Mister Lee.” The wolf in front of you nods to the two new doberman hybrids.

“You really didn’t have to get us drinks-” Jeno says sheepishly.

“Like I told our pretty bunny friend here,” Yuta’s smile returns to you, “it’s on the house.”

There’s a beat of silence where all four of you ‘lower level hybrids’ wait for the wolf to continue, then he lets out a sigh.

“Y/N was just saying you should be leaving soon. I won’t keep you. Enjoy your drinks, and I hope to see you three lovely ladies again sometime.”

“You bet,” Yeji says dreamily.

With one final nod, Yuta leaves you be, and you watch him retreat towards the raised VIP section.

“Oh my god-” Jeno lets out a deep breath, huddling you all in closer, “that was my boss-”

“Yeah, Mister Nakamoto,” Ryujin teases, elbowing Jeno in the side gently.

“Stop it!” Jeno bats her arm away. “That was so embarrassing- do you think it was obvious I’m drunk?”

“No one could tell,” Yeji plays it cool, but when she reaches out and pinches Jeno’s chin, her grin widens mischievously, “you’re always this lovely pink colour.”

“Fuck-” Jeno groans. “I need to get out of here-”

You watch him finish his beer in three large gulps, and then you’re downing your own cocktail in record time.

The alcohol helps things become fuzzier. You can almost forget that you’re in a room filled with Level Four hybrids - as Mark would say - but when you look out at the crowd, you’re met with all sorts of dangerous eyes.

A tiger hybrid stares you down and you tear your gaze away, looking after Yuta-

Your heart lurches in your chest as you lock eyes with a man in VIP. You’re at a distance, but you could swear his irises are red-

“Come on, y/n,” Yeji tugs on your hand, “let’s go.”

5: Saturday

Ushering a bratty wolf out of his apartment at 8 am isn’t something Mark wants to get used to any time soon, but it’s an obstacle he’s being more and more acclimated to as he pushes and shoves Yuta towards the door.

“No breakfast?” the white wolf questions- he always looks for any reason to stay.

“No breakfast,” Mark confirms. “You have to get out before my sister wakes up.”

Yuta flashes a toothy grin. “Hate to break it to you Mark, but I'm pretty sure that sharp-eared bunny hybrid sister of yours heard us last night.”

“We were quiet-” Mark tries to insist with a shake of his head, but the wolf’s smile only widens.

“Sure you were, bunny boy.”

“I was!”

“What if you come out with me and we get breakfast somewhere else?” Yuta suggests,

“Jeez-” Mark lets out a deep sigh, opening the door to his apartment, “you act as if you’re not going to see me at work in twelve hours- just go!”

With one last eye roll, Yuta steps over the threshold and into the hallway beyond. “Don’t be late, bunny boy.”

“I won’t be-”

“Mark?” Your voice makes the bunny jump- usually he’s pretty good at tracking you with his ears, but he’d been so focused on getting Yuta out of the apartment that you’ve been able to sneak up on him.

He closes the door in his boss's face, and the small chuckle that sounds from the hallway beyond is enough for Mark to know the wolf won’t hold it against him.

“Y/N!” Mark swallows thickly, one hand moving to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “You’re awake early!”

“I uh… couldn’t sleep.”

The way you’re looking at him tells Mark that you definitely heard him and Yuta last night, and the thought makes his skin flush with heat. He goes for a topic change, grasping at straws until he’s able to state; “Glad Jeno got you back home last night in one piece.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh. “Your club didn’t give that many bad vibes- of course I got home alright.”

“Speaking of the club-” Mark swallows thickly. “Listen, I don’t know how I feel about this yet, but it would be against my morals not to mention it- Yuta told me last night that apparently you caught the eye of one of my managers? They said they’d give me a raise or something if I ‘recruited’ you-”

“Oooh- which manager?”

Mark can see interest in your eyes, and it makes his skin crawl. “You’re not going to fuck one of my managers,” he warns you.

“You’re one to talk Mark Lee,” you look him up and down. “Hypocrite.”

He should never have let Yuta come home with him last night-

“I want to go see your workplace again,” you insist. “To see if I like it. It would be good to have two incomes- besides, all your friends work there- and I’d be getting to use my bunny smelling senses-”

What you’re saying is - by all accounts - true. It would be a good job, for any bunny- but unfortunately you’re not just any bunny, you’re his sister. Mark worries about which manager you caught the attention of- there are a few Level Fours he could handle, but if either of the Level Five managers get their hands on you-

Mark doesn’t even want to think about it.

“I guess you can go see what it’s like,” Mark sighs. “Yuta told me to give you his number- something about maybe popping by tonight when it’s busy and meet the managers and such-”

“Really?” your eyes widen with excitement. “You mean you’re not going to fight me on this anymore?”

“I’m not,” Mark concedes… he’s just hoping you’ll spend one night working behind the scenes and decide to hate the club.

6: Saturday con't

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you walk into Mark’s bar for the second time in your life, but it’s definitely not a small, timid deer hybrid by the name of Moon Taeil. From the look of his small, spiny, horn-like antlers, you think he might be a pudu, and you wonder how he ever obtained a high ranking position at a club like this one.

“I’m the main manager of the front area of the club,” Taeil explains, as he walks you through the room of both humans and hybrids. “The majority of our servers in this section are Level Twos. Mark must have walked you through the levels?”

“Refresh me?” you suggest, sending a pleading smile Taeil’s way.

The elder man sighs. “Level Ones are small prey animals,” he tells you, “Hamsters, bunnies, rats, mice, that sort of thing. Level Twos are larger prey animals like myself, so deer, zebras, we’ve even got a lovely cow hybrid bartender. We also have a few humans we employ to keep the ‘diversity’ structure. Level Ones like you generally work the door to the back section, with a Level Three hybrid bouncer.”

He takes a deep breath, and his large deer ears flick to follow other sounds in the bar. You can tell that Taeil doesn’t like going through these details, as he runs through them quickly.

“Level Three’s are smaller and ‘domesticated’ predator types, so dogs, cats- we’ve mostly got dogs on the doors. You already know Jeno, our doberman. We also have a golden retriever, and a lab-”

“Not to mention our resident Raven,” a regal man appears on your left, and one whiff of him tells you he’s the bird in question. Hybrids that fly all share a uniquely airy scent, or at least, the ones you know do.

“This is Doyoung- he’ll be your manager while you’re here.” Taeil seems more than happy to pass you off, not that you mind.

“If you end up liking the place,” Doyoung sighs. “And if we like you. We always have openings for Level Ones in door inspection like your brother, but I’m guessing you’ll fit in as more of a bottle girl.”

You’ve heard of bottle girls; the pretty females who provide top of the line waitressing service to VIP’s and such. You’ve also heard that they’re the ones who make big money on tips.

“Have you ever had any experience in a bar?” Doyoung is quick to get to business, and Taeil scurries away.

“I worked in a restaurant once,” you tell him, thinking back to the humans who had been nice enough to give you a shot.

“Bottle service is easy,” the raven assures you. “The real test you have to pass is for manning the door.”

“A test?” you ask, following Doyoung through to the back room.

The bar isn’t open yet, and it’s different to see the large space without fun, flashy lighting, the dancefloor empty of guests.

“Sounds like Taeil was walking you through the levels, right?” Your new manager walks you through to a hallway that leads to the staff restricted zone. “Level Fours are big predator animals, think lions, tigers, bears, wolves-”

“And Level Fives?”

Doyoung gives you a look. “We don’t get many Level Fives in here- and trust me, when we have one, you’ll know.”

It’s the only level that hasn’t come with a hybrid list, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it.

“How will I know-” you ask, as you follow Doyoung into a staff room where a white wolf is waiting for you.

“Trust us, Lee,” Yuta grins, “with a nose like your brother’s, you’ll know.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes at the flirty tone in his coworker’s voice, and he’s quick to move on. “If you could take a seat, we’ll begin the nose test.”

“So soon?” You feel like you have whiplash. Yuta pulls out a chair at the small table by the staff lockers and you’re quick to sit down, looking at both men with confusion.

“Trust me, you’ll pass,” Yuta assures you again, resting one hand on your shoulder while flashing you a charming smile.

“Did you bring your blindfold?” Doyoung isn’t talking to you, but your heartrate picks up in your chest.

“You know I always have one on me,” the wolf responds, reaching into his pocket.

“Blindfold?” you squeak.

“It’s nothing weird,” Doyoung is quick to assure you. “You’ll just put this on, and five people, one from each level, will come in, then you’ll have to identify their level by smell.”

You suppose it’s a fair trial- after all, with your eyes covered you won’t be able to identify anyone by their hybrid marks, so you accept the blindfold and put it on.

With your eyesight gone dark, you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the smell of the Level Three and Four that surround you.

“Are you ready for the first person?” the raven asks.

You nod.

In the periphery of your senses, you hear a door opening, and then a familiar smell washes over you. You’d only spent a short time with the timid deer manager, but Taeil’s scent is already committed to your memory. “Level Two,” you announce, adding “Mister Moon” for good measure.

Yuta lets out a small chuckle at your rear, and you hear Doyoung groan at his friend’s behaviour. “Very good,” he praises you.

The sound of a door opening and closing prepares you for the next smell, and even this one is somewhat familiar. It’s a very puppy specific smell- but you’re not quite sure if it’s one of your friends, so when you say “Level Three,” you simply leave it at, “dog hybrid,” instead of adding a name.

“You can’t take your blindfold off,” Yuta reminds you, “but this is Jungwoo, he’s our resident golden retriever.”

“So lovely to meet you!” comes an enthusiastic voice, and loud footfall tell you the large man is approaching you. He gently shakes your hand and you try not to jump at the sudden contact.

“Good to meet you too,” you smile.

“It’s always nice to have another Lee in the building,” the puppy continues. “We love Jeno, and then we got Mark- now we have you! Everyone loves a cute Lee!”

“Some more than others,” Doyoung mutters, and you can’t help but think it’s a jab at Yuta. It seems you’re not the only one who’s aware of your brother’s shenanigans with his so called ‘boss.’

“I’ll see you on shift, bunny,” Jungwoo says, and you can practically hear his grin.

“She’s not officially hired yet,” Doyoung is quick to remind everyone in the room.

“She’s a Lee- a legacy!” Jungwoo insists. “Like I said, see you on shift.”

You hear him leave the room, but his scent takes longer to drift from your senses.

The door opens again, and it’s the easiest smell to identify so far. A Level One prey is always a pleasant experience, and this one smells particularly earthy. “Level One,” you say with a smile.

“Three for three,” the raven counts. “Although, this one might also be a bit of a cheat- I think you’ve met our Hamster hybrid, Jisung?”

You’d nearly forgotten about the tall, quiet boy that Mark had introduced you to last month, but now that Doyoung mentions it, the meeting comes back to you. “We have met once,” you admit.

“Nice to see you again.” Jisung’s voice is as quiet as ever, and you wonder what an introvert like him is doing in a bar like this, but then again- what are any of your prey hybrid acquaintances doing here?

You listen to the hamster leave the room, and you’re left waiting long enough to start to question it. “Uh, is the test over?” you ask after five minutes of silence have gone by. You can feel your ears twitching, and your nose ruffles as you try to track any new scents.

“Two more,” Doyoung tells you. “These last two like to be late-”

“Or maybe we like to make an entrance,” a new voice and smell nearly overwhelm your senses.

While most hybrids have an earthy note to their scent, this man also brings in a touch of smokiness- for a moment, part of you wants to announce that he’s a Level Five, but you bite your tongue.

You’ve not smelt something like him in a long time, but when you search your brain for a memory, you realize what hybrid he reminds you of. “Level Four?” you ask, feeling unsure for the first time, “a bear?”

“Wow, it’s always the bunnies with good noses, huh?” The new voice lets out a chuckle, and you think you must have clocked him spot on.

“Told you she’d be good,” Yuta says pridefully.

“Does this mean I’ve passed?” You’re eager to take the blindfold off- being in a room with a raven, a wolf, and a bear - without your eyes to protect you - well, it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies.

“There’s one last person you have to meet,” Doyoung explains with a sigh.

“A Level Five?” If you go by process of elimination-

“Yes, a Level Five.” Yuta’s hand finds your shoulder again, giving you a gentle squeeze. “When Mark met this Level Five, he puked- so Doyoung’s put a bucket by your foot… if you need it.”

“Why-” you swallow thickly. “I mean- if I already know it’s a Level Five, do I have to meet him? I thought you said I wouldn’t see many Level Fives-”

Doyoung sighs, and it’s a sound you’re becoming much too familiar with. “We don’t want the first time you see one being on the job- better to puke now rather than later. Besides, the Level Five coming in owns the club, he’s the one who gets the final say on you.”

Now you definitely feel like you’re going to hurl- and the elusive Level Five hasn’t even entered the room yet.

“He’s not that bad,” Yuta reassures you, but you suppose it’s a very Level Four thing for him to say. The wolf behind you can never know what it’s like to be in your shoes as a prey hybrid, so you take his opinion with a massive grain of salt.

“Usually I’d tell you not to trust Yuta,” the bear’s voice sounds again, “but in this case, he’s not wrong. Hyuck’s not so bad.”

If only you knew anything about the bear- about how accurate his perception might be.

Your skin is prickling with anxiety, but you know you’ll have to get used to being surrounded by upper level hybrids if you’re going to do well at this job, so you focus on your breathing.

A minute passes, and then comes the familiar noise of the door squeaking ever so slightly on its hinges.

A shiver runs from the tip of your toes all the way to the top of your head, and an overpowering energy overtakes you.

It’s not so much a smell as it is an overwhelming sense of unease.

Something isn’t right- and you’re pretty sure it’s the new Level Five who’s just entered the room.

“Good job on not puking,” Yuta laughs, patting your shoulder again.

“She’s got a better stomach than Mark,” the bear adds, and as much as you might wish to defend your brother, you can hardly bring yourself to even open your mouth to speak.

“This little bunny is a fighter, isn’t that right?” The smoothness of the unfamiliar voice takes you back a little, and despite your eyes being covered, you get the sense that the Level Five has a pretty face to match his pretty voice.

You itch to take the blindfold off- to get a look at the elusive hybrid.

You wonder what markings he might have that would point you in the direction of identifying what, exactly, he is.

“Can I-” you swallow thickly, and the hybrid’s smokey scent that fills your lungs makes your throat feel dry again, “Can I take this off?”

You reach a hand up towards your face, but Yuta is one step ahead of you, pulling the blindfold from your head.

At first, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the light, but your prey instincts are quick to get a gauge on the Level Five.

He’s handsome- more handsome than you could have imagined. But he’s also young- close to your age, you’d guess, if looks are anything to go by-

Fluffy brown hair and caramel eyes match the pretty tan skin that almost shines golden in the light.

You can’t spot any hybrid marks, not even a tail, and you’re completely blindsided by what the man in front of you might be.

“Hi, bunny.” The Level Five grins at you, and the sharp canines that greet you are the only hint towards his hybridism- although, without visible floppy ears, you highly doubt the man in front of you is any sort of dog.

“If you’re looking for hybrid marks, good luck finding them,” Doyoung tells you, pursing his lips. The large, obvious, black wings that protrude from his back ruffle with annoyance, and you wonder how many other prey hybrids have been enthralled by this Level Five’s lack of clear hybrid marks.

“Hyuck’s good at hiding,” Yuta notes. “Come on, give her a hint.”

“But just know,” the bear quips, “you’re not going to leave this room with any definitive answers about what he is. That information is for people who’ve proven their loyalty here.”

“Something tells me she’ll be loyal,” the Level Five, or ‘Hyuck’ as they’ve called him, is looking at you like you’re dinner. “Isn’t that right, little bunny?”

“Yes, sir,” you respond without a moment’s hesitation, clearing your throat. “I’m loyal. It’s a Lee family trait.”

While you’re talking about your brother, you suppose Lee Jeno is also quite loyal, although that might be more of a dog and doberman trait than a Lee-specific one.

The Level Five continues to stare at you, and then his pretty caramel eyes seem to flick with a new colour, almost like a flame, licking from his iris- within a moment his eyes are a fiery red that makes your heart practically stop in your chest, because… you’ve seen these eyes before.

You’d seen them that night when you’d first visited the bar, watching you from up in VIP.

It becomes clear to you that the ‘manager’ who you’d caught the attention of is none other than the Level Five himself.

7: Sunday

“You look tired.” Mark’s usually not the type to enjoy seeing you burnt out, but he’s hopeful that one night on the job had been enough to show you that you might not be cut out for bar life.

“I am tired,” you sigh, taking a seat at the breakfast table.

He watches you for a moment, but when it’s clear you’re intent to just pick at the apple in your hand, he decides to prompt you for more. “Aren’t you going to tell me how it went?”

You groan.

“I mean-” he swallows, “obviously you made it past their scent test-”

“Speaking of which,” now your eyes are on him, and you shift in your seat, “you have to tell me what kind of hybrid Hyuck is!”

Mark nearly chokes on his coffee.

You’re on a first name basis with Lee Donghyuck?!

“When did you meet him?!” Mark gasps.

“What do you mean ‘when did I meet him’?” You roll your eyes. “He was the Level Five in my scent test!”

“He was?!” This is definitely news to Mark.

Your brows furrow with confusion. “Wasn’t he yours too?”

“Of course not! Mine was Renjun!”

“Who the heck is Renjun?”

Mark doesn’t answer- after all, there’s truly no way to explain who Renjun is, not without giving you details about his Level Five status-

“Look, this ‘Renjun’ dude doesn’t matter,” you insist. “I need to know what Hyuck is.”

Mark’s throat goes dry, and he rubs his thumb against the coffee mug in his hand. “I mean… you know I can’t tell you that.” Mark sighs. “What do you think he is.”

“I don’t-” You bite at your lip. “A giant snake? His eyes go red- that’s… that’s kind of snake-like, right? And his skin has a pretty sort of golden sheen sometimes. No one’s described what Level Five’s are yet, so I don’t even know what general hybrid types to be considering. A snake doesn’t seem like that big of a deal, but maybe he’s exotic or something? Are Level Five’s exotic predator types?”

The bunny opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s not sure what to say.

“Come on, Mark-” you groan. “Please?”

“Look…” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I really can’t tell you what Hyuck is. He’s my boss’s boss’s boss or something- but… you’ll probably never meet Renjun, so… if I tell you what he is- maybe it will help give you some ideas?”

“I really don’t see how it will help-”

“That’s because you have no idea what a Level Five is- they’re not even in the same ballpark as snakes, which are Level Three’s, by the way.”

“Fine,” you give in. “Tell me what Renjun is.”

“But you have to promise not to repeat this anywhere. And if you end up meeting him… you’ll have to pretend you had no clue about his hybrid type... deal?”

“Of course! Who am I going to tell anyways?”

“Yeji for one, or Ryujin-”

“Yeah, yeah-” you wave a hand. “I promise I won’t.”

He studies you for a second.

You’ve never been one to go back on your word, and after a deep breath, Mark Lee goes back on his own promise not to reveal a Level Five hybrid type.

He supposes sending you into a monster’s den with no clue what you could be up against isn’t the best idea in the world- and perhaps this will finally show you why he’s so hesitant to allow you anywhere near his work.

“Renjun- well…” Mark takes a deep breath. “He’s a phoenix.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you let out a small laugh. “Stop teasing me.”

“I’m not,” Mark tells you earnestly.

Your eyes search his face for any sign that he could be playing around, and then you’re jaw is dropping. “A phoenix?!”

“Lower your voice!”

When you speak next, it’s in a half yelled whisper; “Pheonix’s exist?!”

“Yeah.”

“So what does that make Hyuck?!”

“You’ve got to drop the Hyuck thing,” Mark groans. “I told you about Renjun, now just trust me when I tell you to stay away from your bosses. That includes Johnny… and Yuta.”

“Again with the hypocrisy, Mark-”

“Just-” he reaches over and places his hand over yours. “Please.”

Your energy dies down before his very eyes, and Mark can guess that it’s probably because he’s made a point not to ask you for much in your life.

He’s glad that this ‘please’ packs a punch.

“Fine,” you say, taking a deep breath. “But I’m still choosing to work at the bar.”

“Oh my Jesus-”

“We need the money!” you insist.

He can’t argue there. “When are you on shift?”

“You’re not going to like this- but uh… they have me on off days right now? Monday through Wednesday-”

“You know I don’t work Monday through Wednesday,” Mark groans, hating the idea that you’ll be at the club without him there to protect you.

Sure, Mark’s a bunny hybrid, but he’s a bunny that bites… if he has to.

“I know, I know-” you sigh. “But I checked the shift chart and it looks like Jaemin will be there, Jisung too!”

He’s glad you’ll have to familiar faces at least. “Who’s the Level Three bouncer?”

“The golden retriever- Jungwoo I think his name was?”

Mark feels himself relax a little. He knows Jungwoo’s character- and despite being a puppy, the dog can hold his own. “I guess you could be working with worse people.”

“Don’t be so hard on your coworkers,” you laugh.

It’s his bosses he’ll have to be explicitly hard on if he’s going to keep you away from them, and Mark knows it.

8: Monday

When you arrive to the club for your first official shift, it begins very much like the training one had. Taeil meets you at the front door and hurries you through the space.

“Doyoung’s in a bad mood,” he tells you, deer ears flickering with something like anxiety. “Something ruffled his feathers this morning. But… it should be an easy night.”

“Oh, okay.” You’re not sure what else to say, and you instead opt for being quiet, adjusting your silky black shirt and toying with the cuff link by your wrist.

“It’s a nice outfit,” Taeil continues, watching your movements with a doe like expression. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tells you to wear a dress next time.”

You swallow thickly and look down at what you consider to be your ‘fancy pants.’

When you’d gotten dressed, you’d decided to go a more modest route. Mark always heads to work in dark attire, and you’d done your best to match it, but you suppose it’s no shock that the bosses might prefer for their female bunnies to be in something a little more showy.

“I’ll uh- look through my wardrobe?” you suggest, as your eyes lock in on the regal raven man who’s just come through the door leading to the back of the bar.

Taeil laughs, and it’s the first time you’ve seen the serious deer hybrid smile. “Don’t worry, outfits will be provided. We’ve had a few bunny bottle girls, and Doyoung has stats on what attire gains the best tips.”

Why are you not surprised that Doyoung has outfit to tip ratio statistics.

“I guess Taeil’s already given you my critique then,” the raven says smoothly as you approach. “Dresses will be provided… if you make it through this first official shift.”

He makes it sound like he thinks you might fail, and it only makes you more determined to prove your worth.

“Tonight you’ll be doing bottle service,” Doyoung explains as he leads you through to the back section.

You’re a little surprised to see a few Level Four hybrids already bustling about by the bar, and when you’re ushered into the staff room, two familiar faces make you feel more at home.

“Little Lee bunny!” Jaemin grins, pulling you into a hug. “Mark told me you’d be working here, but I almost didn’t believe it!”

“Believe it,” Doyoung grunts. “You’ll be showing her the ropes of being a bottle person. Jisung-” your eyes shift to the other man you’ve met in passing, “you’ll be on the door with Jungwoo. Y/N got an intro course in manning the door, and she’ll end the shift with you, got it?”

“Yes, mister Kim.” The hamster hybrid nods solemnly, flashing you a shy smile before scurrying off.

“Speaking of Jungwoo though-” Doyoung sighs, “where is that dog?”

“I believe we passed him at the bar on the way in here?” you suggest, recalling the familiar scent that had briefly caught the attention of your senses as Doyoung had rushed you to the staff room.

The raven looks at you, and then he flashes you a pretty gummy smile. “You are quick on your feet, aren’t you?”

“I try.” You can feel your skin heating at the compliment.

“What else did you smell on the way in here?” he prompts.

“I think- a handful of Level Threes and Fours by the bar- but not a Five in sight.”

“And if you see a Five?” Doyoung presses.

“I’ll assume that as door man, Jisung has made a note of it, but I’ll also come tell you- if it’s not Hyuck or Renjun.”

“Very good,” the raven nods at you. Then he takes a deep breath. “I should warn you both, before shift officially starts-” his eyes shift to Jaemin, “Johnny and Yuta are planning to stop by tonight to see how our new hire is doing-”

“What?” Jaemin’s nose scrunches up with distaste. “But they never come in on Mondays!”

“I know, and I told them not to.” Doyoung sighs again, “It will just throw off our team, but- like I said, they want to see our newest bunny in action.”

Jaemin groans. “Jeez-”

“Just remember,” Doyoung looks at you, “Level Fours - and Fives - can be difficult to manage. Stick close to Jaemin, and if you need anything, come let me know.”

“Okay,” you nod diligently.

“You’re part of my team now.” The raven hybrid offers you a smile. “And I’m not about to let anything bad happen on shift tonight.”

9: Monday con't

Yuta hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you for what feels like hours. Sure, he might have a little something something going on with your older brother, but he thinks there’s no harm in watching you… it’s for scientific purposes, really.

Okay, maybe more like his own twisted pervert purposes, but who’s going to judge a wolf like him?

“She is cute, I’ll give you that,” Johnny says, drawing Yuta’s attention. “I can see why Hyuck likes her.”

After a moment to consider the bear’s words, Yuta nods, gaze shifting back to you. “And she seems good at the job.”

In the two hours they’ve been sitting in VIP and watching you, you’ve definitely impressed not only them, but many other Level Fours as well.

A snow leopard acquaintance and business partner had even approached the two owners of the club to enquire about you, and Kun’s generally not the type to get so easily enthralled, especially not by bottle girls and workers.

Even though you’re shadowing Jaemin today, you’ve noticed Yuta and Johnny’s drinks being low, and have personally brought over a bottle of champagne for refills, a bright smile on your face every time.

Yuta’s already tipped you more than he’d tipped Mark on his first day doing bottle service, and that’s saying something.

He can’t help it though. There’s something about you- something that makes him want to risk it all-

But there’s also a voice in the back of his mind that tells him not to. For one, he has Mark- and even more- you’ve caught Hyuck’s attention.

Hyuck’s a collector of pretty things, and he can be quite defensive when he thinks someone’s impeding on his territory.

No, Yuta’s better sticking with the elder Lee bunny, and he just hopes any man that’s interested in you has the brains to rethink testing Hyuck’s patience.

10: Tuesday

Although Johnny is one of Hyuck’s most trusted confidants, the Level Five finds himself calling up the wolf in his company for details about your first day.

As a friend of your brother’s, Yuta can provide insight Johnny might not be able to- and besides, Yuta always tells it as it is. He’s not one for fancy language or tiptoeing around, and that’s one of the things Hyuck appreciates most about him.

The wolf answers his phone on the second ring, and Hyuck pays the same respect that Yuta always does; he doesn’t bother inching around the reason he called, and goes straight to ask; “How was our new bunny on shift yesterday?”

“I mean…” Yuta lets out a chuckle, “She’s Mark’s sister, so she took to it pretty naturally. But that’s not too surprising, is it?”

“I guess not.” Hyuck can’t help but smile. He enjoys hearing that you’re already excelling at your new job, and it extends past the pride of a boss finding a new money maker. “I hear she was on bottle duty yesterday.”

“Uh huh, kept my drink full the whole evening.”

“So she’s even better than Jaemin,” Hyuck’s grin widens.

“It’s not that hard to be better than Jaemin.” Yuta’s eye roll is practically audible.

The wolf has never been a fan of the lazy bunny, but Hyuck keeps Jaemin employed for his own entertainment.

“Anyways,” Yuta continues, “a few VIP’s even enquired about our new hire, said she was doing a good job.”

“Really?” Hyuck feels the flames of jealousy licking across his skin. “Who?”

“Kun and Ten mostly, but I think everyone was pretty eager to watch her work. Scurrying around with her little grey bunny tail and those twitchy ears-”

Hyuck will have to deal with Kun and Ten if it comes down to a turf war over his new bunny, but for now, he takes a deep breath, mind more pleasantly occupied; “What was she wearing?”

“I guess no one told her about our affinity for bottle girls in little black dresses-” Yuta sighs. “But she still looked absolutely delicious in black pants and a satin dress shirt.”

“What have I told you about preying on my bottle girls?” Hyuck can’t let this comment slide.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuta sighs. “I was just trying to paint a pretty picture for you.”

As if Yuta has to verbalize that you looked good enough to eat. Hyuck’s way past that.

“Hey,” the wolf catches Hyuck’s mind from drifting, “just so you know- I know that Girl-Bunny-Lee is off the table. You don’t usually go for bunnies, so a few others might get confused, but… well, I know she’s yours.”

Hyuck takes a moment to consider his friend’s words.

What Yuta’s just said is true though, Hyuck generally isn’t one to spend too much time with Level Ones. He has a preference for Level Four big cat hybrids; panthers, tigers, he’s even had a daring lion or two-

Bunnies always get jumpy around Hyuck, and for good reason.

He’ll enjoy breaking you in- in more ways than one.

“I appreciate that you know your boundaries, wolf,” Hyuck says smoothly. “To ensure that everyone else knows not to toe the line, how about you talk to Doyoung about putting our newest little bunny on bottle service for Friday night. Mark will be working- it will give us both a chance to watch our Level Ones scurrying around.”

“You know, boss,” Yuta chuckles, “I like the way you think.”

11: Friday

Mark can feel his annoyance practically perfuming off his own form, and he’s not the only one who’s noticed. While transiting to work, the few other prey hybrids on the bus have moved away from him, and you keep shooting him worried looks.

A few stops from the club, a human couple leaves, and Mark is quick to snatch the newly vacated seats.

He lets out a deep sigh as he sits down, immediately leaning against the window to cast his gaze outside.

“Mark, stop being such a party pooper,” you say in a hushed tone, gently poking at his side.

He rolls his eyes.

“Seriously. I know it’s a little fast that I’m working a busy shift, but that means more tips, and isn’t making money the whole point of this?”

“I just-” he groans again. “It’s a Friday night, all the VIP big bosses will be there-” He bites his tongue, although he has much more to say. Like how he knows Hyuck’s the reason you’re working tonight, because Hyuck has final say on shifts, and any change in schedule immediately points to the picky Level Five having his hand in it.

“So what if all the big bosses are there?” you ask. “I’ll just work harder to swindle them for their money.”

You’re trying to lighten the mood, and Mark can’t help but crack a small smile.

“You need to be realistic about this though,” he warns you. “Do your job, be nice, but don’t be too nice. Do you understand?”

“I’ll only do what I’m paid to do,” you nod. “Honestly, I think you’re overthinking this. Doyoung’s been a great manager, and tonight’s going to be fine.”

He wants to tell you that you’re too trusting. That you’re a naive little bunny going into a den of upper level hybrids - some of whom, you can’t even truly name.

He might have told you that Renjun is a phoenix, but you still have no idea what you’re going up against when dealing with Hyuck.

“Just-” Mark sighs again. “Don’t be too nice.”

12: Friday con't

It’s a busy night, and Hyuck gets a fabulous view of you and other ‘bottle bitches’ running around his club.

You’re in a black dress, and in many other work places, it would be considered much too short. In fact, the only thing truly keeping the fabric over the rump of your cute little bum is your fuzzy grey tail.

Hyuck thanks god for hybrid specific clothing, and he makes a mental note to congradulate Doyoung on quickly taking care of your wardrobe. Yuta had mentioned the pants you wore to your first shift were nice… but Hyuck doubts that much could look better on you than this.

You look good enough to eat, and Hyuck wants to unwrap you-

But he’s not the only one.

An hour goes by, then two, and as the night gets more lively, a few Level Four hybrids get increasingly cocky with you, much to Hyuck’s annoyance.

Hell, even a few Level Threes who should be working seem to be revolving around you.

Hyuck’s not sure if it’s because they’re also seeing the way men are looking at you, or if they themselves are as into you as everyone else seems to be.

You had come to the club with Jeno your first time, and as Hyuck watches the doberman practically do laps around you while you scurry about, he wonders if there’s anything going on between the two of you.

After tracking you with his eyes for half an hour more, Hyuck decides there’s no way you could be dating Jeno. Hyuck would have smelt you on his doberman, and while Jeno often comes in smelling a little like bunny, it’s always been Jaemin and Mark’s scent still lingering on his skin.

Hyuck is getting increasingly impatient watching you tend to the lower section of the bar. While he’d insisted on having you work tonight, Doyoung had been just as firm about Jisung being the bottle bitch to the VIP’s, and Hyuck’s not sure how much longer he can go without seeing you up close.

Doyoung’s not usually one to put his foot down when Hyuck gives him orders, and as Hyuck watches Doyoung watch you, he begins to wonder about even the raven’s integrity when it comes to pretty little bunnies.

It’s near the end of your shift when something happens that finally allows Hyuck to act; a tiger hybrid seated at a booth catches your arm as you rush past him with a bottle of champagne. The roughness of the sudden grip makes you stagger.

Hyuck’s on his feet in an instant, eyes fixed on you.

The tiger leans up to say something in your ear, and even with top hybrid hearing, Hyuck can’t make it out with all the noise in the room. However, by your reaction, it’s obvious that what ever has been said, well… it doesn’t sit right.

A look of shock crosses your features, your jaw dropping-

Hyuck hurries down the stairs of VIP. He’ll make it to you in less than five seconds-

The tiger hybrid stands up and everything seems to go in slow motion for the Level Five. He’s optimized for this kind of thing, this kind of situation- and his body kicks into high gear, muscles tensing-

The champagne slips from your hand-

Before it can hit the floor, Hyuck’s fingers are wrapping around the bottle’s neck, and in one aggressive motion, he’s using it like a baseball bat and wacking the shit out of the tiger hybrid’s shoulder.

Glass and booze explode at the contact, shards and bubbly spraying every direction.

The tiger hybrid recoils and others jump at the sudden eruption of anger that had come from a VIP who hardly leaves his section. If the big cats and other predators in the vicinity hadn’t smelt Hyuck for what he is before, well- it’s obvious to everyone who the big boss is now.

“Don’t you know anything about being in a club?!” Hyuck rages at the tiger, who practically shrinks under his fiery gaze. “You can look, but don’t you ever think about touching one of my bunnies like that again!”

“I’m sorry-” the man’s eyes are full of fear, and the smell of it makes Hyuck’s lungs burn.

In his periphery, Hyuck sees Jeno, Jungwoo and Doyoung rushing to surround him. He sees Jeno reach for you, protectively putting you behind his back-

“Throw this guy out,” Hyuck announces to his subordinates. “And tell Mark to make a note by his name.” His gaze lands on the cowering hybrid. “If you comes back here, I’ll do worse than break a champagne bottle.”

Hands grab at the tiger, and he’s hauled off by the two dogs who do Hyuck’s bidding.

The Level Five inhales deeply to calm himself, running a hand through his curls before turning to look at you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine-” you assure him, but you sound breathless, and your eyes are wide.

“Was that really necessary?” Doyoung asks. “Cleaning the champagne and glass up is going to be a shit show-”

“Yes, it was necessary,” Hyuck snaps. “Everyone here needs to know-” he casts his eyes around at the predator hybrids that frequent his club, “employees at my club are off limits.”

“I’m sure they know that now.” The raven isn’t even bothering to hide his exasperation. Surely he wouldn’t have handled things this way, in such an abrupt and aggressive manner- but he’s not Hyuck, and he’s not a Level Five.

Hyuck looks at you again, assessing you for any sign of injury. Up close, you’re even prettier than he could have imagined, and you meet his gaze with those wide, wonderous eyes of yours-

“Your shift is over,” Hyuck declares. “It’s been an eventful night. I’ve been watching you scurry around for hours.”

“But-” you and Doyoung both go to argue, and Hyuck holds up a hand.

“It’s her first night working a busy shift,” Hyuck states. “I think she’s had enough.”

“I-” you bite on your lip. “Thank you- but… I mean, I have to stay here until Mark’s shift is over in half an hour anyways-”

“Then how about you join me in VIP while you wait for your brother.”

Doyoung lets out an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, eyes rolling before he turns to leave. No doubt he’s had enough of this conversation, enough of Hyuck- and the Level Five doesn’t mind. This is a conversation best had without the stickler raven hanging around.

“Thanks for the offer- but I really shouldn’t. Mark wouldn’t like it, and I mean… you’re my boss after all.”

Hyuck lets out a chuckle. “That’s never stopped Mark from joining Yuta when his shift is over. Your brother sounds like a hypocrite if he’d get upset at you joining me.”

You blink up at him- and then you’re smiling and Hyuck feels like he’s on cloud nine. “That’s what I’ve been saying! He’s been very hypocritical lately!” Then you do something no bunny before has ever done, you lean closer to Hyuck, lowering your voice; “He sort of told me to stay away from you.”

Hyuck’s grin widens. “So you and your hypocrite brother have been talking about me, huh?”

Your pretty bunny ears twitch, and you cast your eyes down with embarrassment. “Not at length- he still won’t tell me what type of hybrid you are-”

“Come have a drink with me, and maybe you’ll find out.”

You look up at him again, and Hyuck can tell you’re searching his face for a sign of deception. Then you give in; “Fine. I’ll have one drink while I wait for Mark, but not in VIP.”

It’s almost like you’re taunting him, and when you turn to head toward the bar, Hyuck’s natural predatory instincts kick in. He gives in to the chase, following close on your heels.

People part for Hyuck as he walks through the busy dance floor. He supposes they could just be being careful from the champagne bottle incident, but there’s also the fact that he gives off intense vibes. Even without knowing what Level Five hybrids are, many of the Fours in the room have no problem identifying him, once in a blue moon when he comes down from VIP.

Yuta had told Hyuck when they’d first met that he simply smells and feels like an other- something not of their normal hybrid world. And Hyuck supposes there’s some merit to that.

He joins you at the bar, and within an instant, his persian kitty bartender, Taeyong, is rushing up to take his order. Doyoung eyes Hyuck from the end of the bartop, but keeps his distance.

In record speed, two drinks are being sat in front of you, and Hyuck can finally give you his full attention. “So how’d a bunny like you get into working restaurants?”

“Hmm?”

“Your resume,” Hyuck clarifies. “It said you’ve worked in the industry before.”

“Oh, uh-” you fiddle with the straw in your drink, “I mean- growing up, Mark used to call me Little Miss Energizer Bunny, you know, like the battery? And I guess, I’ve always liked being helpful, so running around a room and making sure people are happy seems like a no brainer.”

Hyuck watches you with a smile. He likes the idea of you being a little Energizer Bunny- his little Energizer Bunny.

“How about you?” you ask, lifting your chin to appear confident in your question, but your eyes and twitchy ears betray you. “How does a young Level Five like yourself end up owning a club?”

Hyuck chuckles. “I’m not as young as I look.”

“Really? Is this a hint as to your hybrid type? I will figure it out, you know.”

You’re his little Sherlock Holmes the Energizer Bunny. It’s cute.

“Sure you will,” Hyuck says, although there are doubts in his mind. “How are you liking the work here?”

“I’m enjoying it,” you tell him. “All my coworkers are really nice, and Doyoung is a great manager.”

Hyuck can’t help but crack a smile at this. The raven has had many complaints against him in the past, mostly from Jaemin and Jeno, who think he’s much too strict and bitchy- but Hyuck guesses there’s no surprise that Doyoung puts his best foot forward with you.

The Level Five opens his mouth to ask another question, but before he can, he notices your brother weaving through the crowd behind you.

“Uh-” Mark coughs awkwardly, gently tapping you on your arm, “Doyoung said there was an altercation- said I should take you home early?”

Maybe Hyuck will have to file a complaint against Doyoung too, for being a royal cock block.

“Oh, yeah-” you nod quickly, “let me finish my drink-”

Hyuck watches the way you suck on your straw, and his mouth starts to water. It takes all his energy to force his eyes to your brother. “You usually bus, don’t you, Mark? I could get someone to drive you both home.”

“We’ll be fine,” Mark states, and there’s a stubborn set to his jaw even though he can’t truly meet Hyuck’s gaze. “I’m sure y/n made enough tips to pay for a cab.”

Hyuck would be entertained by Mark’s big brother protectiveness, if it wasn’t directed at warding him off. But Hyuck also supposes that, if he were in Mark’s shoes and had a sister, especially one as cute as you, he’d be doing the same thing Mark is doing right now.

“Your call, Markie.” Hyuck raises his glass, nodding at the bunny whose cheeks are now a pretty shade of pink. “Get home safe, and I’ll see you-” his eyes meet yours, “sometime soon.”

It’s a promise, but it also might just be a threat.

13: Friday con't

At first, the atmosphere in the cab is tense, silent. Mark is like a brewing volcano on your right side, and you’re just waiting for him to say something. Yet, your brother throws none of his anger your way.

It almost feels like you’re going to get home unscathed, and then all of the sudden Mark is throwing his hands up and looking at you with an exasperated expression; “I thought I told you to stay away from him!”

You’re too stunned to speak. Mark hardly ever raises his voice at you, and the fact that he’s doing this in front of your driver when you’re already so close to home is just as shocking as the outburst itself. “I-”

“I’m serious, y/n-” Mark’s eyes flicker to the taxi driver. “I don’t want to talk about levels too much right now, but- trust me- if you think Yuta and Johnny might be dangerous based on their hybrid types- just know that Hyuck is ten times worse than that!”

“He doesn’t seem that bad-”

“Doesn’t seem that bad,” Mark repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s about to laugh or cry.

Your brother opens his mouth to say more, but the taxi comes to a stop in front of your apartment, and the obviously uncomfortable driver quietly tells you how much you owe him.

You grab money out of your work fanny pack, tossing it into the front of the cab before exiting the vehicle. There’s much more you want to say to your brother, but it’s not going to be said in front of some innocent bystander who’s just trying to make a living.

“Mark, I hate to say it,” you follow him towards the entryway of your building, “but you’re being extremely hypocritical right now.”

“Me?! How?!” Even in the middle of an argument, Mark holds the apartment lobby door open for you.

“Don’t act as if you’re not involved with Yuta. He’s a Level Four, and I see how much calmer you are when he’s around. He’s like a protector, maybe I’d like a protector too.”

You think back to how Hyuck had appeared out of nowhere when the tiger hybrid had been aggressive to you, and you feel dirty at the way your panties begin to stick to your core-

“Then go for Jeno or something! Why does it have to be Hyuck?! He’s a Level Five!” Mark insists as you enter the elevator. “And he’s probably got a bunny fetish-”

“Mark Lee-” you say, shocked beyond belief, “for someone who’s paid to pay attention, you don’t seem to notice the hybrid types that usually surround Hyuck in VIP. They’re all cats, Mark- big cats!”

Your brother doesn’t seem to have a rebuttal for you, so you continue; “Besides, he might not even like me that way…”

“Jeno said that the guy practically swooped down from VIP and smashed a champagne bottle over a tiger hybrid’s head just to protect you.”

“He smashed it over the guy’s arm and shoulder area,” you correct.

“Still!” Mark insists. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his tone has calmed down substantially. “Please,” your brother sighs, “trust me on this.”

Doesn’t he know rule number 3 of the imaginary sister code? Never take your brother’s advice, especially when it comes to love.

And you don’t intend to.

14: Saturday

“So I heard that then, Donghyuck comes down from VIP and straight up kills this tiger-”

Mark’s been listening to Xiaojun and Hendery discuss last night’s events since he came into the staff room five minutes ago. Usually their gossip isn’t something that interests him, but tonight, he feels the need to step in.

“He didn’t kill the tiger-” Mark groans, drawing the eyes of the other Level Ones who have just finished their own shifts.

“He didn’t?” Xiaojun blinks.

“He just- whacked him on the arm or something.” Mark shakes his head. “Jisung apparently spent an hour cleaning up all the shards.”

“That’s crazy, dude,” Hendery's large rat hybrid ears wiggle with distaste. He’s never been one to enjoy actually working at work, and even Mark had been a little shocked at how much their resident hamster friend had been forced to do to make up for their boss’s outburst.

“And it was over your sister, right?” Xiaojun presses.

Mark had entered this with a sneaking suspicion that the two of them were talking so openly about the incident to get more information, and the bunny decides he’s not about to fall into their feeble minded trap again.

Especially not when there are more important matters to attend to… like the schedule he’s currently looking at.

Just then, Doyoung walks into the room, and Mark jumps at the opportunity to discuss things with his manager.

“Hey-” the bunny grabs the attention of the raven, “it says here that my sister’s working Wednesday night, I thought you had her on afternoon shifts?”

“Oh-” Doyoung’s broad wings ruffle behind him, “yeah, there was a schedule change.”

“I thought I told you that I only wanted her working evening shifts when I can be here,” Mark sighs. Wednesday is the one night a week he has classes at his local college, and he’s pretty sure everyone here knows it, especially Doyoung.

“Unfortunately, Mark,” Doyoung adjusts a stray piece of hair that’s fallen haphazardly over his brow, “you’re a Level One, and this schedule change was recommended by someone much higher in the food chain than you.”

“Hyuck,” Mark states. Doyoung might not have said their head boss’s name, but Mark can feel the culprit in his very bones.

“He told me to offer to schedule you in as well,” Doyoung breathes, “but we both know you have class.”

Mark would bet all his savings that Hyuck knows it too.

There’s nothing he can do about it though. He can’t miss class.

He hates how easy it is for Hyuck to be a puppeteer, pulling on everyone’s strings. And above all, Mark especially hates how you’ll probably play right into the Level Five’s hands.

15: Wednesday

While Hyuck has always been the kind of guy to love watching his club make money, there’s something to be said about slow nights… or maybe it’s just the fact that you look calmer.

There aren’t fifty plus Level Fours surrounding you, just a handful of Wednesday night regulars, and it’s obvious to Hyuck from his vantage point in VIP that things are easier on you tonight than last Friday.

He’d also be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way you pay particular attention to him. With only a few VIP clients in tonight, you have much more ability to watch his own cup, and you frequently pop up with a bottle of whisky to refill his glass.

On top of all of this, maybe it also has something to do with Mark not being present. Your brother's watchful gaze is understandable, but yet another barrier between you and Hyuck, a barrier he’d been quick to deal with.

Tonight, the door is manned by Jaehyun, the stoic black lab, and Jaemin, who looks down at his phone absentmindedly between guests arriving. Neither of these men are intent on watching you, and Hyuck hopes it stays that way.

He enjoys the way your gaze so often shifts to his table, even if it’s just to check on his drink, and for the countless time tonight, you hurry up the steps with his favourite whisky in hand.

“Can I refill that for you?” you ask.

Hyuck gently pushes his cup forward, remaining silent and watching you.

“I hate to ask this,” you say, as the amber liquid pours, “but should I maybe grab you some water? I’ve only been keeping this bottle out for you tonight, and you’ve already gone through most of it-”

“You’re concerned I can’t handle my liquor?” Hyuck grins. You’re such a funny, amusing, little thing.

“You can definitely handle this, much better than I could, at least,” you’re quick to assure him. “I just- technically my shift ends soon, and I think I’m the only one who’s really been paying attention to you. If I don’t go grab you some water, something tells me you’ll be neglected till closing.”

As if he couldn’t easily wave down Doyoung- but still, Hyuck enjoys the sentiment.

“If it would make you happy, you can go grab me some water,” he concedes.

You flash him a small smile, and then you’re scurrying off, his little bunny errand girl.

You return with water not two minutes later, and Hyuck has already pulled out a few bills. “Here,” he says, holding them out to you, “for paying special attention to me tonight.”

You blink at the wad of cash. “Sir, you don’t have to-”

“Of course I don’t have to,” Hyuck interrupts. “I own the place. I can do what I want. And what I want, is to give you this. As a token of my appreciation.”

He hasn’t bothered to count the exact amount, but he knows it’s somewhere in the hundreds, which is probably why you’re being so nervous about accepting it.

“Here,” Hyuck sighs, standing. He reaches out, tucking the cash between the waistband of your fanny pack and black dress that's been capturing his attention all shift. “Make sure you don’t lose this.”

“Thank you, I-” you blink up at him, and Hyuck sees something like stars in your eyes- or maybe that’s just the light reflecting from the disco ball. “Are you leaving?

“Yup,” Hyuck runs a hand though his hair, smirking and offering you a wink. “I’ll see you soon though, yeah?”

He likes the way you mutter “yeah” as if you have any choice in the matter, and then he heads down the VIP stairs, ignoring the glare that Doyoung casts his way.

16: Wednesday con't

“You should take a cab,” Mark tells you, and part of you wishes you’d never even called your brother while waiting at the bus stop.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him. “It’s late so the bus will be empty.”

“Yeah, it’s late, which makes it more dangerous out there,” Mark insists.

You open your mouth to argue back, absentmindedly watching a black sports car slowly approach- and then the window is being rolled down, and Hyuck is looking out at you.

“Need a ride?”

“Mark, good news,” you say into your phone, “Hyuck just offered me a lift.”

“Don’t get in his car,” comes your brother’s stern response.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, line’s breaking up-” you lie, “See you in ten!” Then you hang up on Mark, addressing Hyuck for the first time. “Yes, thank you, I’d really appreciate it.” You grab the door handle, getting into the car and quickly telling him your address. “Mark was just hassling me about busses being dangerous-”

“Good thing you’re safe in here with me now, huh?” Hyuck grins, waiting for you to have your seatbelt on before he pulls away from the curb.

“Very safe,” you confirm, even as your bunny senses take a moment to adjust to his overpowering scent. The fiery nature of his presence is something you’ve gotten more and more used to, and in the back of your mind you wonder if he - like his business partner Renjun - is a phoenix of some sort.

“You did good today, on shift,” Hyuck says, and the praise makes your heart sing in your chest.

“Thank you.”

“And you’re doing good now, too, you know. Not many Level One hybrids like to be near me, let alone locked in a car with me.” Hyuck’s fingers gently tap on the steering wheel. “Did your brother ever tell you how he puked the first time we met?”

You laugh. “Mark hasn’t talked about it, but Yuta mentioned it during my scent trial.”

“If you feel sick, let me know and we’ll roll down a window,” Hyuck teases.

“I mean,” you feel your skin heating, “I’ve got butterflies in my stomach, but it’s not puking related.”

Hyuck sneaks a glance at you. “Really?”

“Uh huh.” You look away shyly.

A moment later, his warm hand is finding the middle of your thigh, and he gives you a gentle squeeze.

“You’re cute, bunny,” he tells you, and just as you think things might get even hotter, he pulls away, fingers returning to the wheel. “It’s good to have you on the team.”

“It’s good to be on a team.” Good to feel appreciated.

Hyuck’s a fast driver, and the roads are dead on a Wednesday night, so you’re turning onto your street much sooner than you’d wish to be. To your surprise, you can already see Mark waiting on the curb for you.

“And there’s your brother,” Hyuck sighs. He pulls over a little distance away from your apartment, and Mark begins approaching. “I guess I’ll see you at your shift on Friday night.”

“I guess so.”

“You should plan on ending early again, I’ll want your company in VIP.”

“Is Doyoung going to be okay with that?” you question. “And besides, who says I want to come to VIP? Haven’t I told you already that you’re my boss-”

“Look,” Hyuck cuts you off, “If you weren’t up for it, you wouldn’t be in my car right now.”

He’s right, but you won’t admit it. You just stare at him as Mark comes all the way up to the car with a mildly frustrated scrunch to his nose-

“Like I said,” Hyuck laughs, watching you reach for the handle to exit his vehicle, “I’ll see you at your next shift.”

17: Saturday

“You’ve gotta stop eye fucking my new hire.”

Hyuck assesses Doyoung over the rim of his whisky glass. It’s a busy Saturday night and Hyuck can’t believe the raven hybrid is broaching this subject now of all times.

“Uh oh,” Hyuck grins at Yuta next to him. “Looks like I’ve ruffled some feathers…” His gaze shifts to Doyoung again, “I’ve gotta stop eye fucking your new hire.. Or what?”

“Or we’re going to lose Mark, his sister, and Jaemin and Jeno, because those two losers do everything Mark does-”

“They might be losers, but neither Jaemin or Jeno is stupid enough to quit working here,” Hyuck scoffs. “Besides… why is it so wrong for me to want to get to know the cutest Lee bunny?”

“Well for starters,” Doyoung sighs with exasperation, “You’re her boss?!”

“Get on Yuta’s back then,” Hyuck chuckles, nudging the wolf seated next to him.

“And second-” Doyoung continues, “because it’s just some weird bunny fetish, and it’s not good. Your intentions aren’t pure.”

“Bunny fetishes can be fun,” Yuta notes, and although Hyuck agrees with his friend, this is definitely not a case of Bunny fetishization… or at least, he doesn't think it is.

“I’m getting awfully tired of you questioning me,” Hyuck sighs.

Doyoung lowers his voice, but his words are still laced with venom when he says “And I’m getting tired of you watching y/n work her butt off to pay rent while you sit up here at VIP drinking expensive whisky!”

“You know what?” Hyuck stands up. “Fine! If you want me to be a gentleman about it, I’ll go and ask her on a real date, how’s that sound?”

“That’s not what I meant-” Doyoung’s pale skin flushes a deep red colour, and it only pushes Hyuck to act quicker.

“Too late, I’m going, right now.” He brushes by the dumbstruck raven, heading down the VIP stairs.

His eyes are on the prize; you. Specifically, his gaze is fixed on your cute little tail and perfect ass. Your back is to him as you stand at the bar, waiting for Taeyong to grab you a bottle of wine, and for a moment, Hyuck thinks it might be fun to ambush you-

Then he sees a shiver run up your spine, and you turn to look at him, lips parting in a silent question.

“Hey you,” Hyuck grins. “Got a second?”

“For you, I have two or so minutes.”

“There’s my funny little bunny,” he says affectionately. “Listen, Doyoung’s mad that I keep looking at you. He thinks my intentions are- well, let’s just say he thinks I’m going to be a dick about this. To prove him wrong, I thought I’d ask you out. How do you feel about brunch?”

“I mean…” he watches you swallow thickly, “I love brunch- but, you don’t really seem like a brunch kind of guy?”

“That’s just because you don’t know me yet,” he winks at you. “Brunch is good because I work in the evenings.”

“Oh, right-”

“I know you’ve gotta quickly run away like the little Energizer Bunny you are, so I’ll make this quick. I know a place with a great view and the best mimosas in town… what do you say about tomorrow?”

You look up at him with those big pretty eyes of yours, and then your gaze shifts over his shoulder. He wonders if you’re looking for Mark, but then you’re nodding. “Pick me up at noon?”

Hyuck nods. “You got it, bunny. I do know where you live.”

18: Sunday

When Hyuck drives you to an expensive apartment building, you’re a little confused. But you play along as he parks in the underground and takes you to the elevator.

“The best mimosas in town,” he assures you. “I guarantee.”

“I trust you,” you laugh, leaning back against the wall of the lift and watching him with a smile.

He looks good today, but when does he ever not look good?

In black dress pants and a silky charcoal shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to expose tanned, veiny forearms-

Well, there’s a lot you want to do with the Level Five hybrid in front of you, things you’d never do with a boss.

You admire the golden tint to his skin, and think through a list of things he could be. There’s the phoenix, kitsune, dragon, griffin, chimera, unicorn- you’re pretty sure he’s not a unicorn, but at this point, he could be just about anything.

The elevator dings and the doors open. You find yourself walking into a lovely entry way, and you’re certain now that this location couldn’t possibly be a restaurant.

“Welcome to my home,” Hyuck tells you, flourishing an arm. “Also known as the place with the best mimosas in town.”

“Well aren’t you confident in your cocktail abilities,” you quirk a brow.

“Sure, but I’m actually talking about my private chef,” Hyuck laughs, leading you through a lush living room to the open concept kitchen, were low and behold, a human is standing there preparing food.

You can tell he’s not one of you by the way he smells, and the fact that, while still focused on his craft, his eyes are slow to find you. “Hi there,” the chef smiles.

“Y/N, this is Jin. Jin, this is our lovely brunch guest.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jin waves his knife around as if it were his own hand giving you a greeting.

“I was thinking,” Hyuck’s palm finds the small of your back, “we could sit on the terrace, have some food, and I could give you a full tour later.”

“Works for me,” you agree, giving one final nod to the chef before allowing the Level Five to guide you through his home once more.

The terrace is lovely. The view is no joke, and it’s decorated modestly with a table and chairs, with many plants livening up the place and enjoying the sun. Hyuck pulls out a chair for you and you sit with your eyes still taking in all the lavish wonder his home has to offer.

“Wow,” you muse, smiling as he takes his own seat, “you’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?”

“I told Doyoung I’d be a gentleman, so here I am,” he shrugs.

“It’s nice that he’s so protective of me,” you muse.

“It feels like everyone who meets you feels protective,” Hyuck nods. “Is that just due to your bunny charm, or is it something deeper?”

“Let’s just leave it at bunny charm, don’t you think?” you laugh.

“So you’re not a little flirt then?”

You take a moment to respond, grinning before you tell him, “only for you.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

Jin arrives with mimosas a moment later, and before you know it, you’re sipping on your drink and laughing with Hyuck in the afternoon sun.

It’s easier to talk with him in this non work setting, and the view gives you a constant thing to marvel at- aside from the beautiful man you’re conversing with. You find it easier and easier to hold his gaze, but you’re still not fully comfortable with him yet.

The chef interrupts for a second time, holding two platters of food. On one is every veggie and fruit you could possibly imagine, and on the other are more suitable brunch foods.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Hyuck says, scanning the eggs, bacon and sausage links, “so I told Jin to make whatever he’s best at. I hope there’s something here for you to eat.”

“This is wonderful,” you look to the chef, “thank you.”

He simply nods. “Is there anything else you two might need before I leave for the day?”

Hyuck waits for you to respond, and after another look at the food in front of you, you shake your head. “This will be perfect.”

Hyuck nods to his chef, and Jin excuses himself.

When you begin to put things on your plate, you keep your bunny ears open, listening to the chef grab his things and depart. It feels like a weight has been lifted as soon as you know you’re alone with Hyuck, and he visibly relaxes also.

“Something’s on your mind,” he says, toying with a piece of bacon. “Tell me.”

“I’m just thinking about what kind of hybrid you are,” you confess.

“Any guesses?”

“A few.”

“Let’s hear them then. Come on Bunny, spill.”

You smile at the Level Five. “At first, I thought you might be some kind of snake-”

“Definitely not.”

“Yeah, don’t be mad, but Mark told me I was way off. He also may have let it slip that one of your friends is a Phoenix-''

“He did, did he?” Hyuck arches a brow, but you don’t see any anger in his expression, only amusement.

“He did,” you confirm. “So I figure, if we’re in the realm of mythical beasts, well, I don’t see any hybrid marks on you-”

“It’s a Level Five adaptation,” he tells you. “So we can blend. Renjun can’t have fire wings protruding out of his back every day now can he? That’s a fire hazard if I’ve ever heard of one.”

“I guess not-” you laugh at the joke, “but… he does have wings?”

“They retract, back under the skin,” Hyuck nods.

“So… theoretically,” you put a fruit down on your plate, giving Hyuck your full attention, “you could be anything.”

“Theoretically.”

You assess him for a moment longer. “Okay, this information totally derails all my theories, but I guess, I was sort of thinking you could also be a phoenix, due to your eyes flaring red. Or maybe a kitsune because you’re kind of fox-like and mischievous-”

“Am I?”

“You definitely are,” you laugh.

“Any other theories?”

“I mean, you could always be a dragon or something-” you mean it as something of an off hand joke, but the way Hyuck’s chin tilts down ever so slightly- his eyes suddenly going serious- you think you may have just guessed your way into a truth “Wait, no, you can’t be-”

“Does it scare you?” Hyuck asks, cocking his head to the side.

You take a breath, trying to ground yourself in your own body. It’s hard to say exactly what you feel, but it’s definitely not fear. “Do you… do you have retractable wings too?”

“Big ones,” he confirms, “and they’re a pretty golden colour.”

Part of you wants to see them, but you bite your tongue, considering what he’d said about Renjun’s own wings. “Does it-” you swallow thickly, “does it hurt when you retract them?”

Hyuck watches you, and it’s a few moments before he answers. “No one’s ever asked me that before,” he confesses. “But yeah. It hurts.”

There’s silence at the brunch table. Your mind is going a million miles a minute, trying to process what he’s just revealed to you.

“Most people want to see my wings when they find out what I am,” he states. “Don’t you want to see them?”

“Not if it hurts you!”

Hyuck chuckles. “You’re a funny little bunny, has anyone ever told you that?”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he waves his hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I’m impressed. You guessed what I am, and like I said, most people just want to see my wings. They don’t care about the pain of skin tearing to reveal the mark of my hybrid self, but you do. I’ve gotta say…” the dragon sips his mimosa, “I like you, bunny.”

“You do?” your voice is practically a squeak.

“It might be stupid, but I’ve been around a long time- and I don’t think I’ve ever met someone quite like you, let alone a Level One.” Hyuck cocks his head to the side again, eyes scanning your form. “You’re something special, aren’t you, bunny?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, your phone rings loudly in your purse.

“Shit,” you cuss, immediately knowing who’s calling; “it must be Mark-”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you haven’t told him who you’re with right now.”

“Of course not-” you swallow thickly. “I’m really sorry, but I have to answer this-”

“Go ahead.” Hyuck leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving you.

With one last sigh, you answer your phone. “Mark?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh-” you lick your lips, “Yeji wanted to meet up for a bit-”

“Are you coming home soon?” your brother presses. “Jeno said he’d help me move this new shelf into my room that we found down at the thrift store, but he bailed.”

“I can come help,” you say without a second thought.

“Awesome! See you soon then!”

“Bye!” You hang up, gaze lifting to meet Hyuck’s. “I’m really sorry-”

“Again, don’t be,” he tells you. “You’ve told me that you’re a bunny who likes to help, and it sounds like Jeno fucked Mark over. Of course you need to go help your brother, although- I have to admit, the idea of two bunnies carrying a bookshelf is a little amusing-” Hyuck downs the rest of his mimosa. “So our secret brunch gets cut short… come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

19: Wednesday

Watching you work your Wednesday evening shift, Hyuck can’t get the thought of kissing you out of his head. When he’d dropped you off a block from your home on Sunday, he’d known it wasn’t the right time to make a move, and for two nights he’s been dreaming about what if’s.

What if he had kissed you. What if he had cupped your jaw and pressed his lips to yours, moving gently and taking things at your pace. What if his tongue had just happened to glide across your own, earning a pretty moan-

Every time you come to refill his cup, Hyuck finds his patience running thinner and thinner- by the time your shift is officially over, the dragon practically pounces, following you into the staff room.

To his dismay, Taeil is also there, and the Level Five has to push his instincts to the side. You can’t have your first kiss at work, and he hates it- but he knows it too.

“Hi, Hyuck,” you smile at him while pulling your bag from your locker, wrapping your hot little body in a jacket appropriate for the weather outside.

“Hi, Bunny.” He leans against the lockers, looking you up and down. “Shift’s over… how do you feel about coming over to my place,” his gaze moves to Taeil, “I need to talk to you about your resume.”

Taeil scoffs loudly, and it seems the lie hasn’t worked on you or the Level Two who hurries to exit the space.

“I can’t,” you frown. “As much as I’m sure my resume needs to be discussed, Mark’s waiting for me at home.”

“How about tomorrow?” Hyuck presses.

You cock a brow at him, and Hyuck wants to throw you against the lockers and have his way with you-

“Are you really that eager?” you question.

“Yes.”

You smile up at him, and each second you wait to answer is practically painful for the dragon. He’s used to getting what he wants, and what he wants right now, is you.

“I can see you tomorrow,” you confirm. “Your place again?”

“Uh huh,” Hyuck nods. “But this time, no private chef.”

“I wasn’t aware you wanted to get me alone so badly.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

You laugh, and Hyuck only wishes you knew how much energy it’s taking to hold himself back from you right now.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Hyuck insists.

“You know,” you grin, “I’m finding it harder and harder to say no to you.”

Not only does Hyuck know this fact, he’s banking on it.

20: Wednesday con't

When you’d arrived home on Sunday, one whiff of you had told Mark that you’d been with Hyuck. The Level Five’s dragon scent had clung to you like the smell of weed on a stoner, and despite every fibre of his being telling Mark to cause a fuss about it, he’d tried to play things cool.

The more he argues with you about Hyuck, the more he realizes he has to come to terms with the fact that you’re going to do what you want to do, advice be damned.

To be fair, other than the overtly horrible way Mark’s body had reacted when he first met the dragon, Hyuck hasn’t ever actually done anything bad to Mark personally.

When you and he had been children, your mother had told you to follow your noses, and Mark had taken that as personal gospel. One wiff of the dragon had been enough to send him in the opposite direction… but his nose is not your nose.

If your nose is directing you towards the Level Five… then Mark supposes that’s your own truth, and maybe he has to respect that.

With all of this in mind, however, Mark still gets annoyed when you show up home from your shift wreaking of dragon. And he hates the way you walk down the street as if you’d taken the bus, as if you hadn’t gotten a ride home.

Mark holds the door open for you to enter your apartment building, and in the elevator, he finally finds his nerve to address the problem. “I really wish you wouldn’t hide things from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Mark sighs, “if Hyuck drove you home, that’s fine. Next time, just tell him to drop you off where I can see you instead of parking around the corner.”

“Well what if he drops me off out of your sight because he wants to kiss me?”

“Has he kissed you?!” Mark’s hands ball into fists, an innate reaction when it comes to hearing a dragon may have done bits with his sister-

“No,” you confess. “But in the future he might.”

“So you guys are getting serious, huh?” Mark tries to control his breathing.

“I think so.” The elevator is quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I’ve been lying to you about seeing him.”

Some of the tension in Mark’s shoulders dissipate, and he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you felt the need to lie… but, with that being said… if Hyuck ever hurts you, I don’t care if I’m a Level One bunny, I’ll kick that dude’s ass.”

“Sure you will, Mark,” you smile fondly at your brother as you leave the elevator.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are… and if I’m being honest, I don’t think anything ‘bad’ will happen, at least, not the type of things I think you’re expecting. Hyuck seems like a good guy. I don’t think he goes on real dates often, and that has to count for something, right?”

“I guess,” Mark sighs.

“Besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Stranger than a bunny falling for a dragon? Her biggest and most vicious natural predator?”

“Honestly,” you laugh, “the fact that Level Five’s even exist is pretty strange, even in a world full of hybrids.”

Mark can’t argue with you there.

21: Thursday

You definitely know what to expect when you get to Hyuck’s apartment, and the matching bra and pantie set under your dress is proof of it. What you’re not prepared for, however, is the way the dragon keeps his hands off of you even in the elevator.

Sure, his eyes are practically burning a hole into you, but he stays on his side of the lift.

“Hyuck?” you say his name as you step into the entryway of his penthouse.

“Should I give you a tour now?” he asks. “Seeing as we missed doing that last time-”

“I mean…” you play with the hem of your pretty dress, “sure, you can give me a tour.”

“But?” He smirks at you. “It sounds like there’s a but in there somewhere.”

“I was just…” you bite on your lip, “aren’t you going to tell me I’m pretty?”

His eyes visibly darken, and they take their sweet time looking you up and down. “You look good enough to eat, bunny.”

“Then why don’t you?” you ask. “Eat me, I mean. But in a sexy way, not a dragon way.”

Hyuck lets out a shaky breath, and then his hands are reaching for your waist, tugging you tight to his chest. “Is that really what you want?”

“Isn’t it what you want?”

“I need to know you’re not just doing this because you’re a people pleaser,” Hyuck says. “Or because I’m your boss.”

“Actually, I think I’m doing this despite the fact that you’re sort of my boss.”

“Yeah?” He grins, and you practically melt getting an up close and personal look at his pretty, sharp, canines.

“Please, Hyuck-” you ball your hands in the fabric of his crisp white dress shirt, “just kiss me.”

“Bunny,” his hand comes up to cup your cheek, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He’s surprisingly gentle as he presses his lips to your own, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s even a dragon at all. You’d expected him to be rough- as needy as he’d seemed last night. Instead, he’s controlled, thumb stroking your cheek bone while he kisses you with intention.

His tongue swipes past your bottom lip and you stifle a groan, shifting to wrap your arms around the back of his neck while you open your mouth for him.

Hyuck lets out something of a growl, and the sound nearly rattles your bones. It reminds you who you’re dealing with, and you find yourself clinging to him even tighter.

A whimper of pleasure escapes you and that’s all it takes for Hyuck to snap.

In one fluid motion, he reaches down and grabs your bum, lifting you up so your legs wrap around his waist. He’s strong, and you love it.

Nothing has ever felt as good as kissing him does, and you get lost in his lips- so lost, that you hardly even realize he’s carrying you through his home.

You break the kiss to catch your breath, and that’s when you notice he’s taken you to his room. His mouth is hot on your throat while you look around, soaking in the ambiance of his most personal space.

“Your room is nice,” you tell him, but your words come out in moans when he finds your sweet spot and his sharp teeth drag against your skin.

“Nicer with you in it,” comes his quick witted retort, and it makes your panties stick to your core uncomfortably.

“I like it when you praise me,” you whisper as he moves you closer to the bed, laying you down on the silky covers.

“Yeah?” Hyuck looks down at you, breaking your body contact enough for him to tear off his shirt. “My little bunny likes being told what a good girl she is?”

You whimper, eating up each piece of newly exposed skin with your eyes, which drift down-

There’s a bulge in the front of his pants, and it makes your mouth water.

“Hyuck, you’re so big-” you reach out, and you’re almost surprised he doesn’t bat your hand away. He lets you touch him through his pants, throwing his head back to let out a moan that does wonders for your pussy.

“Probably the biggest you’ll ever have,” Hyuck breathes. “Dragon perk.”

His gaze finds you again, and he lets out something between a chuckle and a groan. “Fuck, Bunny- you have such tiny hands-”

“Anything compared to your huge dragon cock would look tiny,” you defend yourself, and it makes Hyuck laugh.

“I can’t believe-” his hips push forward as you trace him, “can’t believe we just kissed for the first time and now you’re going to let me fuck you. I guess the term ‘fucking like bunnies’ came from somewhere, huh?”

You can only whimper in response, too busy oggling his massive cock to think coherent sentences.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you moan.

“Tell me you’re my good little bunny.”

“I’m your perfect little bunny.”

“Yeah, you are-” Hyuck’s hands find his belt. “Take off your dress. I wanna see you.”

“Can’t you take it off of me yourself?” you suggest, and the dragon’s motions stop.

He looks down at you. Then he’s on top of you, pressing you between his hot body and the mattress while his hand wraps around your throat. He applies just enough pressure to make your eyes widen, and he grins. “For a people pleasing little bunny, sometimes you can be a bit of a brat.”

“I just thought you’d want to unwrap your present.”

Hyuck lets out a deep groan, and then he’s kissing you again. His lips are desperate against your own now, and his tongue invades your mouth with newfound fervour.

You tangle your fingers in his pretty hair, and Hyuck grinds down against you, dragging the front of his pants across your panty covered core.

“Mmm-” you whimper. “Hyuck-”

“That’s it, pretty bunny, say my name,” he growls, pressing feverish kisses down to your throat again while he ruts his hips-

“Please, I need you so bad-” You’ve been needing him since that first day you met, and you’re only truly realizing it now. “I’m so wet-”

“Dirty bunny,” Hyuck’s lips continue downward, and he lifts up your dress, exposing your belly for his hot mouth. Then his fingers hook in your panties. “Ask nicely for me to eat you out.”

“Please, Hyuck, I’d be yours forever-”

“You’re already mine,” the Level Five growls, tearing your panties off your body in one rough tug that leaves you gasping. “Dragon’s covet pretty things,” he tells you as he settles down between your thighs, his breath teasing your pussy- “and you, my perfect little bunny, are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Hyuck-” you whimper desperately, pushing your hips up in the hope it will entice him-

His hands firmly hold you to the bed. “I’ve never needed anything more than I need you,” he presses a kiss to your inner thigh that has you crying out-

He’s so close- so close to giving you what you need-

“Please-”

Red eyes meet yours as he brings his mouth to your pussy, and a squeal of delight erupts out of you.

Your hands reach down to tangle in his hair, looking for an anchor, and to your surprise, Hyuck offers you his own hand, linking his fingers with yours and giving you a gentle squeeze even as he buries his tongue in your wet hole.

“You feel so good,” you praise him, and you’re rewarded by his lips wrapping around your clit.

More cries of pleasure escape you, and with one of his hands still holding you down, there’s nothing you can do but close your eyes and enjoy what he’s giving you.

“Oh my god-” your stomach is twisting into knots faster than you’d ever imagined it could, “I’m gonna cum-”

Hyuck pulls away from your pussy and lets go of your hand, causing you to whine loudly- only for one of his fingers to slip into you.

“Already?” he taunts. “Fuck, you’re so tight, bunny. Hasn’t anyone fucked you properly?”

“No,” you shake your head, “not properly, not like you-”

“You haven’t even had me yet,” he chuckles, and his breath on your pussy makes you twitch.

“I just know-” you insist. “Your so big, so good, gonna stretch me out so good-”

“Listen to you blabber, my cute little blabbering bunny…” He adds a second finger and you whimper loudly. “I guess you can cum.” His lips return to your clit, and the feeling of both his digits and his mouth has you seeing stars.

“Hyuck-” you gasp, body tensing on the precipice of euphoria-

Then it’s slamming into you, and try as you might to buck your hips, Hyuck holds you down through your high. His tongue flicks your clit while you nearly scream with pleasure.

Without his hand to grab onto, you’re left grasping at the sheets, but try as you might, nothing keeps you anchored to earth. You can feel your body ascending to something akin to heaven, and your mind goes completely blank except for the wonderful tingles that jitter through your form.

“That’s it, bunny,” Hyuck’s breath is hot when he pulls away from your clit, but his fingers continue inside your wet core, “look at my pretty girl cumming for me. You’re so perfect-”

“Hyuck-” you’re nearly crying now, on the cusp of beginning to shake from overstimulation-

The dragon lets up, and when he takes his fingers out of your pussy, the smell of you engulfs your senses.

You’re too tired to open your eyes just yet, but you hear Hyuck lick his fingers clean, and he groans. “You taste as good as you look, pretty bunny,” he tells you, “just like I always knew you would.”

If you had the energy, you might ask him how long he’s been thinking about doing this to you- but you can hardly find the words to speak as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Aw, is my bunny crying?” The bed dips as Hyuck settles his hips flush against your own again, an elbow pressing into the bed beside your head while his hand cups your cheek.

“No,” you whisper.

“Liar,” Hyuck chuckles. “Should I fuck you now? Would that make everything better, bunny?”

“Yes, but…” you take a breath, still recovering from the intensity of your orgasm, “you should know… if you ever hurt me, Mark will kick your ass.”

“Not you thinking of your brother right now.”

“I’m serious,” you swallow thickly. “You’ll have like, two bunnies, a bengal cat, a hamster, two dobermans- a whole hoard of people coming to kick your ass-”

“Oh, I’m so scared of a hoard of Level Ones and Threes,” Hyuck laughs, pressing a kiss to your throat. “I promise not to hurt you. Unless you ask me to.”

“Split me open.”

“You got it, bunny.” The dragon sits up again, and he removes both of your clothes faster than you can keep track of. “I tried to stretch you out with my fingers, but… well… it might not have helped much,” he tells you, and you open your eyes to watch him spit on his hand, lubing his cock up.

He’s big. Even bigger now that his pants are off, and part of you wonders how he’s even going to fit inside of you. However, you know he’ll make it fit.

“You ready?” he asks, laying over you again and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You can feel his cock throbbing on your thigh, and another gush of wetness between your legs makes you nod enthusiastically. “Please-”

He wraps one hand around the base of his cock, guiding the head to your hole- you gasp at the feeling of the intrusion as he slowly pushes into you.

“Oh my god-” you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, eagerly seeking out his lips as some form of distraction-

You know it will feel good once he’s inside of you properly, once he starts to thrust-

“That’s it,” Hyuck groans against your mouth, “Good bunny-”

“You’re so big-”

“I know,” he assures you, “and you’re taking me so well-”

His praise definitely makes you relax, and he slips deeper and deeper into your core until his hips are flush with your own. You both let out groans of pleasure, and Hyuck breaks your kiss. “I’m gonna fuck you now,” he tells you. “Be my perfect little bunny and let me know when you’re going to cum.”

You love how certain he is that you’ll reach your high again. A few of your past lovers had missed the mark completely, but Hyuck doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who misses.

He certainly doesn’t miss your gspot, his cock dragging against it with each thrust-

You can feel your pussy squeezing him, can feel your toes curling with pleasure as he finds an increasingly rough pace.

“Fuck-” Hyuck groans, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning you to the bed while his lips press kisses along your throat. “You feel amazing-”

You’re pretty sure he’s the one who feels amazing- any hole would be tight around a cock like his, you’re just glad you get to be his hole tonight- and hopefully something more afterward.

“And listen to your pretty whimpers-” the dragon hybrid fucking you moans loudly. “You sound so fucking good for me, who’s my perfect bunny?”

“I am!”

“And who loves this big cock stretching out her tight fucking pussy?”

“I do!” You’re nearly crying again. “Hyuck, I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum so hard- please-”

“Hold it for me, bunny,” he gasps against your neck. “If you cum, I’ll cum, and I’m not quite done with you yet.”

You squeeze his fingers, focusing all your strength on holding off the orgasm that’s beginning to tingle up your toes-

“So tight, so warm, so good for me-” Hyuck groans again.

“Please-” you feel a tear slip down your cheek. “I can’t hold it- I need to cum- need to cum so badly- please, Hyuck-”

“Fuck, I love it when you beg-” The dragon fucks you even harder, and you know that there’s no way you’ll be able to hold off your orgasm now- “You can cum. Cum for me. Come on bunny, cum on this cock.”

“Hyuck!” His name feels like a prayer, tumbling our of your lips as your orgasm takes over your body. If you’d thought the first one had been heavenly euphoria, you don’t even know how to describe this high.

It’s pure ecstasy, all encompassing and white hot. It sends electric tingles of pleasure up and down your form, making you cry out, muscles tensing as literal contractions wrack your body-

“Fuck-” Hyuck lets out a low groan, and then he’s cumming inside of you, filling you up with everything he’s worth- there’s no fear of you getting pregnant, as cross species hybrids can’t mix, so you’re left to simply enjoy the feeling.

The sounds he makes are music to your ears too, and you swear you could listen to him cum all day long-

He works you through your high, squeezing your hands as his pace begins to slow. When you’re both done, he presses his mouth to yours, kissing you while you both gasp and struggle to catch your breaths.

“You’re so good-” he tells you. “So good for me, bunny-”

You’ve never felt this good in your entire life, and when Hyuck releases your hands, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. You can feel his heart thundering in his chest, and his smell engulfs you. It’s comforting in a way-

He might be a big scary Level Five dragon hybrid, but he’s your big scary Level Five dragon hybrid.

You feel safe with him, like you’ve never felt safe with anyone in your entire life.

“It’s cute,” Hyuck sighs, “what you said about your hoard of friends earlier.”

“Cute?” you echo, opening your eyes to blink up at your new lover.

“If it makes anyone feel safer about this situation, I could work on getting to know them better.”

You can’t believe he’s offering this, while still buried balls deep in your pussy. A laugh bubbles out of you, and you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

Hyuck grins down at you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, and when he looks at you, there’s nothing but adoration in his pretty caramel-coloured eyes. “Anything for my Little Bunny.”

And you can tell that he means it.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I really liked making this au and the hybrid world that came out of it, although I will note that Dragon Hyuck was a self-indulgent fantasy - read the bear!Johnny spin-off here

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🔮 preview. “I can feel how wet you are through your panties, bunny,” Hyuck groans against your neck. “I didn’t know you were such a little whore for exhibitionism… letting me fuck you at your workplace. What a dirty girl you are.”

cw/ tw. exhibitionism/sex in her workplace, unprotected sex, mirror sex, dirty talk, praise, jealous/possessive hyuck, sexy dragon wings, big dragon dick Hyuck, fingering, multiple orgasms, begging, finger licking, mentions of being ‘full/filled’, choking, etc…

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When you’d started seeing Hyuck, you’d thought you’d have the end of unwanted attention while working. Surely his outburst with the champagne bottle and the tiger hybrid was enough of a warning to others, and if not that, then his predatory scent marking you as taken should ward off other would-be suitors-

But nothing, as it seems, is ever enough to keep a Level Four away from a little bunny.

A particularly proud lion hybrid has been trying to capture your attention for over an hour, and you can feel Hyuck’s eyes burning into the back of your head from VIP. Yet, your dragon lover stays with his friends, and you wonder if he’s given the lion grace because the man has kept his hands to himself.

“I dont want another scene,” Doyoung says when you head to the bar to fill a drink order. His gaze is aimed towards VIP, and you think he must be in one of his staring matches with your boyfriend, they do this much too often.

“I’ll try not to make one then,” you promise, “but I can’t help it if the lion decides to test his luck.”

The raven looks at you with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Which is why I’m sending you to the keg room on an errand. The Guinness needs to be refilled, think you can handle that?”

While Jungwoo had shown you how the keg room in the basement worked when you first got hired, you’ve never been asked to do it yourself. You turn to look at your manager with confusion. “Aren’t the kegs really heavy?”

“Take Jeno with you,” comes his quick response. “I just need you off the floor for a bit. That lion who’s been flirting with you is getting drunk enough for me to cut him off. I’ll go settle his tab and when you come back up, he should be gone, if he knows what’s good for him.”

While Doyoung is quite thin and birdlike in appearance, he’s still a Level Three predator, and you sometimes forget that the raven can hold his own. He’s a manager for a reason, after all, and you respect when he makes decisions like this.

“I’ll go grab Jeno and get that keg fixed for you then,” you agree with a nod.

“Take your time.” Doyoung assesses the tray of drinks that his Persian hybrid bartender has just set in front of you. “I’ll get Jaemin to take these out for you while you’re away.”

With another quick head motion of agreement, you dart off to find Jeno.

The doberman is never that difficult to locate, and tonight you find him monitoring the steps to VIP. The club is packed on a Saturday night, and despite red ropes keeping unsuspecting partygoers away from Hyuck and his friends, the crowd has been encroaching on the sanctity of VIP for over an hour.

“Hey!” you say, raising your voice so your friend can hear you over the loud house music blasting through the speakers. Jeno leans in and you steady your hand on his shoulder so you can relay the information in his ear, “Doyoung wanted us to go deal with a keg!”

Jeno gives you a quick nod, and then he’s pushing through the swarm of people. Before you follow, your gaze shift up to VIP, and you notice Hyuck has stood from his table. His red, dragon eyes are fixed on you, and he looks to be on high alert. When you send him a smile, his shoulders relax ever so slightly, and then you’re turning to race after the doberman hybrid.

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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

Text

prove yourself

cata coll x reader r realizes cata has a protective streak, while r does not. she tries to remedy this, although it doesn't go exactly to plan. cw: creepy entitled man being gross at a bar in this. he gets a little touchy, and is promptly dealt with.

-----

It began with a seemingly harmless comment from Pina on whether similar or different people made better partners. You spent a lot of time with your girlfriend, and you’d picked up little mannerisms that the other had. As such, you thought that the two of you were more similar than you actually were.

“You and Cata are complete opposites. Cata is a hot head, she’d get into a fist fight in a second for you. You’ve watched people push her to the pitch and not lost your temper.”

You’d brushed the comment off, making a joke about how if she was right, Pina needed to find herself the most serious, most calm person on earth.

It had stuck with you, though. Was this something everyone thought? That you weren’t protective over Cata when she was with you? Did Cata think that? That you didn’t care enough to be that way? It wasn’t true, it definitely wasn’t true. You cared more for Cata than you thought possible, than you’d ever felt for anyone in all your years. Every cell, every molecule in your body loved Cata.

And sure, you were a calm person. Not outwardly aggressive on the pitch, or anywhere really. That was your reputation; cool under pressure. You shook everything off, took nothing personally. You’d never so much as had a cross word with another player on the pitch, or off of it. You didn’t argue, and you didn’t fight. Ever.

For Cata, though? For her, you’d light a match and watch the whole world burn. Cata was worth it, worth everything. It scared you that she might not know that, scared you just in general, how deeply you loved her, how all consuming it was.

As it stood, you weren’t planning on doing anything about it. Maybe you’d talk to Cata about it at some point, but you were very much someone who kept things to themselves. If you had a problem, it took a lot of coaxing from your girlfriend to get you to talk about it.

It really wasn’t intentional, what happened. A combination of things pushed the situation out of control, the biggest of them being your sudden, inexplicable insistence to protect your girlfriend.

Cata was a partier. It was well known; put her and Pina together, and combine an important win? Everyone was waking up with a hangover the next morning, whether they wanted to or not. You were very used to how rowdy she’d get in clubs, but for her part, she never really let you out of her sight. It wasn’t odd for her to get wildly possessive of you on a night out, glaring at anyone that glanced at you for too long. It had always made you feel special, but now, you were wondering if Cata wanted the same behavior from you.

The team was, as expected, out celebrating the latest El Clásico win. Cata had kept a clean sheet, and was very much looking forward to letting loose for the evening. You’d all found yourselves in a familiar club in the heart of Barcelona. The entire team was there, even Alexia, though you suspected she came to keep an eye on everyone.

For your part, you’d done well to push your current crisis out of your head, instead focusing on the spectacular performance of your girlfriend, and your own performance, which wasn’t half bad. You were in for a fun night with Cata, if not a long morning of babying her hangover, until some disgusting man decided the goalkeeper’s tight leather pants were an invitation.

Cata was further from you than she liked to be on nights out, but she’d gone up to the bar with Mario to get more drinks, and had left you safely seated next to Alexia. You watched very carefully as the man approached Cata and Mario, neither of them paying him very much attention. Even when he leaned in closer to your girlfriend, you weren’t too worried. Cata leaned away from him instinctually, stepping closer into Mario.

“Come on, beautiful, let me have your number. I can show you a good time.” He was so drunk he was slurring his words, practically falling over.

“No thanks.” Cata said back. There was a time she would have embarrassed the man, nudged him away and made a joke at his expense, but she was older, now, and more aware of how poorly that could end for her. She kept it polite and quick, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was with the man in her space.

He seemed to back off, for a second, and Cata moved away from Mario to grab 2 of the drinks the bartender was holding out for her. As soon as her back was the man opposite her, his hand was moving quickly. You blinked, almost stunned at the audacity of the man who had just gratuitously slapped your girlfriend’s ass. He must have been the stupidest man on earth, truly, seeing as though Mario instantly pushed Cata behind her and squared up to the taller man. Mariona Caldentey was an intimidating person when she wasn’t grinning from ear to ear, and she definitely wasn’t doing so now, giving the man a harsh shove to the chest.

Alexia was moving too, blinking when you beat her out of the chair, rushing off towards Cata. She, and everyone else watching the situation unfold, expected you to go to your girlfriend. They were all stunned, then, when you walked up to the atrocious man smiling smugly down at Mario, pushed your teammate gently out of the way, before balling your hand and swinging, your fist connecting with its target with a loud, revolting crunch.

How dare he lay a hand on Cata, on your Cata. Only you were allowed to slap her ass, and only when she said she wanted you to. You were angrier than you’d ever felt, but regardless, throwing that punch hadn’t been your first instinct. You’d been moving to check on Cata, when you remembered Pina’s words from earlier, and realized that this was your chance to prove to everyone, Cata most importantly, that you were just as dedicated, and just as protective of her as she was of you.

You’d had better ideas. That was clear as the man staggered backwards, and as your knuckles felt like they were splintering open. The bartender had watched the whole thing occur, and didn’t say anything as the man stumbled back towards his friends, embarrassed, clutching tightly to his nose.

“What the hell was that? He was twice your size, idiota,” Alexia scolded, spinning you around to inspect your hand as well as she could in the dim lighting. She was quickly, and unceremoniously, knocked out of the way as Cata rushed to your side, the shock of seeing you deck a grown man wearing off. Alexia gave Cata an unimpressed look, but told Cata to get you home safe, before dragging Mario, who was practically doubled over laughing, back over to the table.

Cata didn’t speak, a rarity for her, simply taking your hand very gently in hers and looking at you with an almost heartbreakingly concerned look on her face. Your hand really fucking hurt. You were pretty sure it was broken, but your attention was on Cata.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, mind not focused on your throbbing hand, but on your sweet girlfriend, who liked to act a lot tougher than she really was.

“I’m fine, really. Let’s go, you need a doctor.” The goalkeeper didn’t wait for a response, pulling you towards the door, past the table of your teammates. You noticed Mario giving a rather dramatic retelling of the event, just barely catching the look of joy and wonder on Mapi’s face at the news that you’d punched someone. Honestly, your teammates were all children.

“Baby, you’re drunk, you shouldn’t drive.” You reminded her, as she opened the passenger door to her car for you. You’d been planning on driving home, but with your hand the way it was, that didn’t seem all that likely.

“I’m not drunk, I didn’t even finish my first drink. We have dinner with your parents tomorrow night, I didn’t want to be hungover.” Cata dismissed, getting into the driver's seat and glancing anxiously at you. You were almost speechless at this, as Cata wasn’t really one to to think ahead to the consequences of being hungover. You smiled weakly at her, blinking away a few tears, both at how well your girlfriend loved you, and at how your hand was beginning to have its own heartbeat.

The goalkeeper leaned across the center console, pecking your cheek, before starting the car and driving in the direction of the hospital.

-----

It wasn’t that Cata seemed mad, per say, she was just being… odd. Not really in a way that would be clear to anyone else, but you knew her well enough to recognize the far off expression on her face as one she got when she was nervous. You decided the incident in the bar had upset her more than she was willing to admit, and vowed to bring it up again when you arrived home. As for now, you sat in the car, heading home from the hospital, with your arm carefully cradled against your chest, encased in a blue cast.Blue, as you’d insisted upon, and marked with a heart, as Cata had insisted. She’d charmed one of the nurses at the hospital into bringing her a sharpie, and had carefully inked the heart into the plaster, her tongue sticking out of her mouth adorably as she concentrated. Once she was satisfied, and you’d been discharged, she’d led you out of the hospital, keeping you pressed close to her body. She buckled your seatbelt for you, even though you were more than capable.

It came so easily to her, it seemed, being protective and taking care of you. She just knew what to do; knew to guide you into the house, knew to get you something to eat before leading you upstairs. She knew to help you get your pajamas on, the pain meds the hospital had prescribed made you a bit woozy, but knew to still let you do most of the work, knowing you hated to feel hovered over. That just wasn’t your skillset. You took care of Cata, yes, but in different ways. Ways that didn’t seem as significant, or as meaningful.

You were getting tired of her acting so weird, though. She came at you with a makeup wipe and even when she was gazing down at your face, meticulously cleaning it off, she avoided eye contact with you. If there was one thing you were good at, it was getting Cata to talk to you.

“You’re upset.”

She paused, nodding minutely, before moving away from you to discard the makeup wipe, and grab your skincare routine from the bathroom. You waited until she was back in front of you, smearing on your moisturizer, before speaking again.

“You’re allowed to be upset, Cata. That was a horrible experience.”

Her expression was still guarded, even as she nodded again. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

You shook your head. “No, I mean what happened, Cata. What that dick did.”

Cata gave you a weird look. “I’m not upset about that, bebé.”

At this, you pushed her hands away from your face, giving her a disbelieving look.

She doubled down. “I’m not. It was gross and I probably would have hit him if you hadn’t. I’m upset that you got hurt, though. That you got hurt for me.” She explained, sitting carefully next to you, as if the gentle movement of the bed under you would jostle your arm in a painful way. She was always so careful with you.

You thought she’d be happy. Not happy that you were hurt, but happy you stood up for her. You were convinced you’d be filling a gap that she’d felt, that she wouldn’t focus on your broken hand when she could focus on what you’d done for her.

“If he’d slapped my ass instead, what would you have done?” You asked after a minute, looking up at your girlfriend’s face.

Her eyebrows creased with anger at the mere thought, and there was no ounce of uncertainty in her tone. “Murder.”

You stifled a laugh, completely sure that she was serious.

“Then what’s the difference?”

“The difference is that it’s you.” Cata said rather harshly, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing on her face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

That stung, even if you knew she hadn’t meant it in the way it sounded. You rose from the bed, feeling embarrassment wash over you as you tried to leave the room.

“Okay, got it. Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Amor, no.” Cata sighed, grabbing your good hand and wrenching you back towards her. You stumbled slightly, only blushing more as you practically fell into your girlfriend’s lap. “I just meant… I protect you, okay? You don’t need to worry about me. I don’t want you to get hurt, even if it’s for me.”

You were quiet, not convinced. Cata looked at you searchingly for a minute, before her hand raised, pointer finger tracing a light pattern across your cheek until you raised your head to look at her.

“What is this about? You’ve never done something like this before.”

“I just thought that… maybe it bothered you. That I’m not as protective towards you. ”

“No, no. It doesn’t bother me. I like it. It feels like my job, to keep you safe. This special thing that I can do to make you feel safe.” Cata emphasized, her fingers tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, her eyes looking at you with an adorable scrunch as she tried to get her point across.

“You don’t want me to be that for you, too?” You asked.

“You don’t need to punch people for me to feel safe, you do that in… different ways. You’re soft, and you’re perfect. You give the best hugs, and you make me feel better just by speaking. I don’t need you to beat anyone up for me. I just need you.” The goalkeeper responded softly, her voice growing quiet in the way it did whenever she expressed a vulnerability. “You don’t need to prove your love for me, bebé. I feel it all the time.”

At this, you leaned forward, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Her arms wrapped snugly around you, and Cata pressed her face into your hair, inhaling deeply, rather satisfied with herself for making you feel better.

“You always know what to say.” You mumbled. “And you look hot when you’re mad.”

Cata pulled away, throwing her head back and laughing. “You do too, bebé. I like you uninjured, though, so no more fights until I teach you how to punch.”

“I know how to punch!!” You cried resentfully, trying hard to keep a frown on your face.

When Cata’s eyes flickered between your face and your broken hand, a smirk tugging at her lips, you broke, laughing as you leaned back down against her.

“Fine. I don’t know how to punch.” You admitted begrudgingly.

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to. I’ll always be there to throw punches for you, sí?”

You were sure she would be. Cata loved a fight, on or off the pitch, but more than anything, she loved taking care of you.

-----

:) cata 🙂🫶🏻

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #cata coll x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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lovings4turn · 4 months

Text

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 don't delete the kisses . . . (l.n.)

— you and lando walk a fine line between ‘just friends’ and something more. but sometimes, it seems like love just isn't meant for you (2.6k words)

+ mentions of drinking and clubs, a lot of miscommunication and pining but i promise it's somewhat fluffy. based on don't delete the kisses by wolf alice.

+ part two | divider from cafekitsune

lando: where r u???? 02:43

lando: y/nnnn:(( 02:45

lando: charls told me you left 02:48

lando: get hmome safe 02:49

you didn't mean to pull an irish goodbye, honestly. but the club was far too loud, and you were nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate the remixed house music and overpriced drinks for any longer.

the easiest option was simply to slip out unnoticed, send a quick text to let everyone know you were okay, and head home alone. if you'd mention your wanting to leave early, no doubt at least three of your friends would decide to leave with you in solidarity, no matter how much you insisted they stay and enjoy their night. that way, everyone was happy.

after confirming that the car you were about to climb into was your uber, you sank into the plush seat, offering your driver a tired half-smile through his rear view mirror. you were thankful that he seemed to understand you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation, and the rest of the ride was silent save for the music playing from his radio.

pressing your forehead to the glass of the window, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you thought over the events of the night, replaying every last detail in your head.

it had all started with the fucking shirt.

official galas and nice dinners meant that you were no stranger to lando wearing nice shirts, the sleeves cuffed and a tie usually hanging around his neck. but when lando greeted you with a hug, his ironically named black button-down unbuttoned to the point that it could be considered obscene, you almost forgot how to function. warm skin pressed against your own, and you hated yourself for realising just how perfectly you moulded against his chest.

never had you been more thankful for the presence of max verstappen, whose offer of heading to the bar allowed you the perfect chance to slip away and regain your composure. the red bull driver made small talk with you as the bartender took your orders, and you responded politely, nodding when you were supposed to and laughing along to the odd joke.

but like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t keep your eyes from falling back onto lando.

somehow even in a packed, lively club, lando’s presence shone the brightest out of all the partygoers. worst of all, he didn’t even have to do anything special. he was simply standing there, nimble fingers wrapped around a cup that you assumed contained a vodka soda as he laughed with his friends. dark curls had started to slip into his eyes, whatever he’d used to style them clearly wearing off as he began to sweat a little.

even doing nothing, he managed to look like he’d fallen from heaven right into your life.

someone up there clearly had it out for you, as lando scanned the room and caught your eye. to look away would only incriminate you further, make it look like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, so you smiled. lando shot you a toothy grin back, eyes scrunched shut with the enthusiasm of it.

a cold glass thrust into your palm stole away your attention, and you turned to meet the knowing smirk of max. he nursed his own drink, and one thick brow was raised in a silent question. though he never spoke, it was clear that he knew something was going on between you and lando.

maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe he truly didn’t care, but whatever the reason max didn’t vocalise any of his thoughts to you. he simply nodded back over to where your group was standing and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. as you made your way back to the group, you suppressed the urge to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

to anyone else, the interaction wouldn’t be much to think about. max had caught you, what, smiling at your friend? it was hardly criminal activity. you were just overthinking, the rational part of your brain insisted. but the other part took max’s expression and ran with it.

if max had noticed you harboured certain feelings for lando, then who else had drawn the same conclusions? the last thing you wanted was to be caught staring longingly over at lando, stars in your eyes and a far away look.

in circles like these, people talked, and where formula one drivers went, gossip’s eye was never far around the corner. you’d seen it happen before to other drivers, countless tweets and headlines about who they were caught talking to or dancing with, and the last thing you needed was the speculation of the public on your relationship with lando.

sobered by this thought, you brought the paper straw to your lips, taking a long sip of your gin and tonic and hoping the alcohol would calm you down a little. much to your relief, almost upon arrival you were dragged into a nonsensical conversation with george, alex and lily. george’s slurred speech and alex’s loud laughter granted you a distraction, though it would be a lie to say that your eyes didn’t constantly wander back to lando.

but the heart wants what it wants, and so you couldn’t ignore him forever.

not even a second after an upbeat, bass-heavy song reverberated through the club’s speakers did lando appear by your side, grinning wildly.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you, come dance w’me!” he shouted, dipping his head down to position his mouth next to your ear.

hot breath tickled your skin, and you shuddered slightly as lando’s larger hand enveloped your own, allowing him to drag you through the crowds towards the dance floor. every now and then, he’d peer over his shoulder to ensure you were still with him, the smile never leaving his lips. everything around him seemed to fade, the bright lights and crowds eclipsed by his radiance.

the crowd seemed to open up around him, blooming like a flower to grant you both more than enough space to dance comfortably without the threat of being hit by stray limbs. lando didn’t even let you get your bearings before he spun you around, high pitched laughter managing to meet your ears even over the pounding music.

it was impossible not to laugh too. you reached up onto your tiptoes, hand still in lando’s own, and spun him around in return. thanks to his height advantage, lando had to duck a little to make the move work, but his hair still brushed against your bare wrist as he passed under it. the tickle travelled along your skin like lightning, leaving goosebumps.

dancing had never been either of your strong suits. even after years of clubbing together, it seemed that each night out was another chance to try to learn exactly what it was you were supposed to do on the dancefloors of clubs and bars, yet you never cared too much.

around lando, everything felt right.

you two continued to dance, mirroring each other's sloppy movements. lando shot you a faux insulted look as you imitated his default dance move, awkwardly moving one arm around to the beat and pointing to the ceiling.

"i do not look like that!" he protested, struggling to keep up his irritated act.

you only shrugged, smirking slightly as you continued to mock him.

another bass-heavy, sultry song began to play, and you dropped your hands. a re-evaluation of how you were supposed to dance was much needed, but lando was one step ahead of you.

without a second thought, lando's hands came to rest on your hips. he took a step closer to you, moving to the beat and prompting you to move along with him.

how you were still breathing was a miracle.

lando was so lost in the music that he was oblivious to your abrupt change in demeanour. suddenly, everything was heightened. even the slightest brush of lando's thumb burned through the fabric of your dress, and you'd gladly bear the marks of the searing touch if it was proof he'd been there at all.

delight soon turned to nerves, as the butterflies in your stomach quickly evolved into wasps, prickly and angry. you'd gotten carried away, dancing with lando like this, and it was beginning to catch up with you.

"i need some air!" you blurted.

lando's eyes snapped open, roaming over your face in concern. he lifted his hand to your face, but to do what, he was unsure. you cursed inwardly at his reaction, his kicked puppy look making you feel even worse.

before he could question you, you forced a wide smile, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm fine! go have fun," you promised, patting his shoulder firmly.

after lando had turned his back, you’d wasted no time in making your way to the club’s exit. just before you could slip through the doorway, you made eye contact with charles. the man only gave you an understanding nod, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pester you to stay.

cold wind whipped your cheeks, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe properly. haphazard texts were sent to a handful of people you’d seen tonight, and you’d ordered an uber straight after.

all that was left to do now was sit with your thoughts.

maybe romance wasn’t meant for you. maybe lando wasn’t meant for you. like some sort of divine intervention, your apartment came into view before you could spiral too far.

the familiar sight broke you from your daydream, as your focus now lay on getting out of the car and into your apartment without falling over or dropping anything. it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts of lando that plagued your mind.

it’s like your own head was conspiring against you: even when he wasn’t physically around, you still found a way to gravitate towards him.

there were few sights better than that of your freshly made bed, the sheets practically begging you to slip beneath them and go to sleep. unfortunately, you still needed to change out of your club outfit. and take off your makeup. and text lando back.

fumbling around in your bag for your phone, you let out a triumphant noise and perched on the end of your bed to type out your reply.

y/n: sorry lan, i just-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

y/n: i'm home! sorry for leaving like that, it was-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

you groaned, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. there was no reason you should be overthinking a text to lando, of all people. after a deep sigh, you let your fingers dance over the keyboard, rewriting yet another poor excuse for leaving unannounced.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside xx

your finger hovered over the 'send' button before you made one final, crucial revision to the text.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside:( 03:24

checking the time at the top of your screen, you figured that lando probably wouldn’t respond until morning. well, afternoon, more likely.

you’d been on countless nights out with lando before; by now his drunken behaviours were engraved into your brain.

like clockwork, lando would hit a certain level of drunk and abandon his phone altogether, opting to sling an arm around someone’s shoulder - usually yours - and drag them off to dance. he wouldn’t even think about his phone until the next morning, checking his messages after finding the device tangled somewhere within the sheets of his bed.

sleep quickly became your top priority. as tempted as you were to just lay down in your current state, you knew that the future, sober you would regret it. in your eyes, you deserved an award for dragging yourself to the bathroom and removing your makeup carefully, not without performing a shorter rendition of your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.

yes, your clothes were bundled up and thrown into the corner of your room, and you opted for an old t-shirt - frustratingly, one of lando’s - instead of a set of pyjamas, but you were only human.

exhaustion seemed to take over you the moment that your head hit the pillow, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as sleep began to take its hold. messy curls and a bright smile was the last thing on your mind as you finally lost consciousness.

meanwhile, the other drivers were still in the club with no intentions of slowing down.

lando squinted at the bright screen of his phone, vaguely able to decipher the letters that made up your text. a sigh of relief escaped him as he realised you had gotten home safely, but disappointment still sat heavy in his chest.

“she’s home,” he shouted in oscar’s ear, though his teammate hadn’t asked.

oscar didn’t have to ask who lando was talking about to understand. he’d noticed that lando’s head had operated on a swivel from the moment he’d realised that you were nowhere to be found. he was like an owl, spinning around in a way that dizzied him, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

if ever questioned about the pout that settled on his lips, lando would probably blame the alcohol for causing his dramatics to be heightened. of course he wasn’t actually that upset that you’d opted to leave a little earlier, not at all.

“that’s good! she say why she left?” oscar shouted back, dipping his head down so lando could hear him a little better over the chaos of the club.

his question made lando frown further.

“no.”

though it was in response to oscar’s question, lando’s answer was directed more towards himself, voice barely above a mumble. he’d only just realised that you hadn’t actually mentioned why you’d left the club early, just why you didn’t say goodbye.

deep in thought, lando’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together some sort of timeline. last he’d seen you, you had been dancing together, having what he thought was a great time. okay, maybe his hands had wandered a little further than he’d expected, but it didn’t mean anything. he just got caught up in the moment, the fabric of your clothes beneath his hands far too tempting for him to be able to think clearly.

fuck, what if he’d made you uncomfortable?

lando knew that he became more touchy when he was drunk, his desire for affection growing exponentially as his propensity for shame decreased. your personal space became his, too. it was common for him to sling his arms around your waist, or rest his head on your shoulder as the night grew longer, but he’d never gripped your hips like that until tonight.

it would explain why you were in such a hurry to leave, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone and give them the chance to persuade you to stay for just one more dance. he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary in your friendship, and panic began to bubble in the pit of his stomach.

lando swallowed thickly before standing up, garnering a confused look from the australian sitting next to him.

“i need another drink. i’ll be back.”

before oscar could even speak, lando had disappeared into the thronging mass of the party without another word.

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @srrcsm

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one fic

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httpiastri · 4 months

Note

literally any driver: burying head in crook of neck, night kisses and shutting the other up with kisses

lacii my love <3<3 did this with lando, hope that's fine! merry christmas again, and i hope you enjoy this!! 😁

"lando, did i tell you about that time when i first met my friend clara?" the words are flowing out of your mouth like you're spitting bars. your boyfriend doesn't even get a chance to answer your question before you've started talking again. "oh my god, it's a great story. you'll love it. so, i was in a french class when my other friend, sarah-"

lando is smiling subconsciously as you ramble on about your adventures, just as you have ever since he picked you up from the club. his fingers help you slip out of your heels – not that you even seem to understand what's going on, way too focused on speaking – before one of his hands lands on your waist. he takes a deep breath to keep his composure and hold back the laughter threatening to burst from his chest at your continuous gibberish, before he guides you to his bedroom with soft touches. he chuckles quietly at the way you almost take the wrong turn and end up in his kitchen, too engaged in your storytelling to remember the layout of his apartment. he isn't surprised, though, because;

alcohol always makes you blabber.

in most situations, you're not the most talkative, preferring to choose your moments to speak with great care. but when you start to get tipsy, it is like you are the world's greatest extrovert. even after getting just a little alcohol in your system, you talk to anyone with ears, somehow assuming that they're really interested in whatever you're ranting about.

thankfully, if you have your friends around, they usually drag you away by your arm, apologizing to the poor stranger to whom you've over-explained the storyline of your favorite movie.

lando learned about this side effect of your drinking early on in your relationship. on your third date, after sharing a few drinks at a local bar, you wouldn't shut up for half an hour, not giving him a second to interject with anything. he'd been surprised, but mostly confused, until he got your text message the following morning: oh my god, i did it... didn't i?

he'd tried to pretend he didn't know what you meant, wanting to put it all behind you, but you'd persisted. i didn't shut up. i never do when i drink. i'm sorry :(

lando was always one to be quick to forgive and forget, not wanting you to feel too bad. everyone does some questionable things when drunk, and he'd seen tons of people act worse than you did. but after that date, there would be uncountably many more occasions of you not being able to hold back when booze was in the picture. award shows, drinking games at home with friends, podium celebrations. once, he even found you outside a club after a race, sitting on the curb with one of your hands petting a stray dog as your other helped you explain the meaning of life. safe to say, he is used to your habits by now.

so tonight, when he picked you up from your night out with a few of your friends, he wasn't surprised that your mouth didn't shut once during the trip back to his apartment. you were excitedly telling him about the people you'd met and the drinks you'd had, so eager to explain every detail to your boyfriend when you were getting into the car that you forgot about everything around you and he had to lean across the console to put on your seatbelt for you.

most of the time, he finds your habit endearing. but sometimes, like right now, it gets just a little tiresome.

"and then, when jamie came around, she was like, what are you doing?, and i was like, i'm just having some fun!"

you're both sitting on the edge of his bed by now, after lando's helped you change into something more comfortable for the night, your mouth still running like you're one of the gilmore girls. you don't even flinch when his hands reach for your cheeks and he stares intently in your eyes – but he can't do anything other than smile.

lando loves your voice. he loves it when you're whispering something in his ear when you're out with friends, when you're ranting to him about some stupid coworker, and maybe especially when you're moaning and whining his name.

but now, he reckons you've talked enough for today. your vocal cords must be sore, and his ears are about to fall off, so it's time to call it a night – and he only sees one way to shut you up.

mid-sentence, lando leans in, pressing his lips to yours. he swallows the yelp you let out in surprise, one of his hands gliding to the back of your neck to keep you close. it doesn't take long for you to relax into the kiss, your lips moving with his while your hands reach for the neckline of his hoodie.

it's so easy to get lost in kissing lando. when he parts the kiss, you find yourself wanting to seal your lips again, already missing the feeling. your mind is now completely blank; all you can think of is the kiss. the man beside you laughs at your hazy expression, utterly amused by how you're suddenly quiet for more than five seconds (something he's sure hasn't happened yet tonight).

when you slowly open your eyes, the very content look on lando's face makes something click in your mind. he sudden kiss, his big grin...

"was i rambling again?"

the silence that follows gives you your answer, and you throw your head back as you let out a little groan. "hey, don't worry about it."

"i really didn't mean to. you know how it is, it just happens, and i don't really feel it as it happens, you know? it's just, the alcohol, it's not my intention. i actually told sarah today that-"

and for the second time, lando pulls you into him, quieting you down with his own lips. this time, as you (for the most part) understand what he's doing, you can't help but giggle into the kiss. your boyfriend matches your smile, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as a joking warning. he lets it flop back against your teeth as he pulls away to look at you again, but you've already lunged forward, head resting against his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," you start, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. "i really am."

his arms snake around your waist before he leans back against the bed, pulling you down with him and into his side. "don't be," he answers, one of his hands reaching up to the back of your head, stroking your hair. "it's cute. you're cute." you continue hiding in his skin and he makes himself more comfortable in bed, pulling the blanket over you both. "we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"

he feels you shake your head. "i'm done talking. i've talked enough. you know those tiktok videos where you only have a certain amount of words you're allowed to say every year? that's me. i've run out of words, i used them all today."

"oh yeah, i can tell," lando chuckles, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "close your eyes, baby. tell me about those tiktok videos tomorrow."

"didn't you hear me? i said no more words. i won't talk tomorrow because-"

lando sighs. it's going to be a long night.

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cottonconnielvr · 10 months

Note

can you write one when its like, reader x plug!connie where they like toxic off and on, but he still spoils her and all that because they in love fr. he's like a real jealous type and is lowkey overprotective. but they always together and spend alot of time with eachother

No matter what you were always gonna be Connie’s.

No matter how many times you guys “broke up” you still belonged to him and everyone knew.

It was hard to strive as a now “single” woman. All of your old hoes were wiped off the face of the earth somehow (thanks to Connie). Any new guy that has the potential of being just a one night stand was scared away by a pair of emotionless eyes that stared you down from across the club.

Every night out with your girlfriends was ruined, any attempt to hook up with someone. ruined

Connie was everywhere you were. You blocked him on every social media, but he still created more accounts just watching your page. He also had eyes on you everywhere. You’d often see some of his most trusted guys at the mall, updating him on your safety.

His friends are so faithful to him it’s frustrating. Your bestfriends were his bestfriends, due to the fact that you were always around you all just became so close!

But when you have a girls night out with Mikasa and Sasha they are always cockblocking for connie.

“That guy was a dick Y/N”

“I dunno maybe you should just get back with Con”

Everyone around you did nothing but encourage you to get back with him, even your parents!

They love having him around and he’s excellent help in the kitchen!

Connie is fairly toxic but you won’t really notice until you think about it.

He’s got himself so involved in your life and everything you do, people can’t help but ask about him! And that was what he intended to do.

There was no possible way you could forget him, he was everywhere. You broke up with Connie but Connie didn’t break up with you.

You lasted 35 days and 45 minutes before getting back with Connie. Ever since you “broke up” with Connie, you’ve been focusing on a clothing line you’ve been wanting to release. You gave up on trying to go out and find simple one night stands. You were fairly sex deprived but didn’t give in. Nothing a vibrator couldn’t fix.

You were over men and their stupid ass inconsiderate ass feelings. Connie didn’t stop taking care of you though. You’d get random paypals and cash apps from Armin or Eren. $850 - FOR from Connie :)

You still were extremely grateful though. This particular night you decided to go to a party Ony was throwing. You were going out for yourself tonight, plus you haven’t popped out in a while gotta keep these bitches hatin

You walked through the entrance of the house, “Way 2 Sexy” blasting through the speakers.

“Heyy sexyy” Sasha drags out as she wraps her arm around you, holding a cup in her hand. You hug her back with a smile on your face, ready to get wasted.

After many mixed drinks and a blunts worth inside of you. You stumbled to a bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You lip synced to the song that was playing from downstairs, checking yourself out in the mirror. Your eyes were red and low, all your movements sloppy.

As you re-applied your lip gloss, a deep voice spoke out to you.

“You’re avoiding me” You jumped at the sudden voice, thinking you were in the bathroom alone. You looked back in the corner of the bathroom, seeing Connie lean on the wall. He looked good as always.

“Connie just go” You mumbled in irritation, not wanting to give into the man in your drunken state.

“What did I tell you about watching your surroundings mama, hmm?” Connie stepped closer to you, “Didn’t even notice me following you. How are you supposed to stay safe princess” Connie fake pouted at you, looking down at you with pity. You could reject him all you want but your face told it all, you missed him so much.

“Sshut upp” You slurred, attempting to walk around him and out of the door.

“Talk to me” Connie’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you back in-front of him. “There’s nothing to talk about, we areee overrrr” Your own eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry mami,” Connie cupped your chin, making you look up at him, “Just take me back. I promise I won’t fuck up anymore. I swear i’m going crazy without you, I can’t stop thinking about you. Just please come back home with me” Connie rushed out, the tattooed drug dealer fought the urge to cry. You’ve been ignoring him like crazy. A part of him felt like you were really done with him and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay Connie, I will” You nodded, letting your emotional state take over. Your arms wrapped around Connie, just wanting to feel him. “I’m gonna go home with you”

The next day you were sitting on Connie’s lap at Eren’s house. You sat pressing sticky kisses up and down Connie’s neck while he counted a few bands, a joint resting in his mouth.

Eren rolled his eyes as he walked pass you two on the couch. As annoying as it was, everything felt back normal again. You were right where you were supposed to be, with connie <3

thinking about toxic!yandere!friend group now but in a platonic way

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sphireath-wisp · 12 days

Text

#Picture Perfect

Sypnosis: Where do they keep pictures/polaroids of you (and them)?

Warnings: Not proofread, reader admits that there were times they felt insecure at Levi's, morally grey reader(?), Mammon's section kind of derails from main topic, posessive/jealous Levi, possible mischaracterization because I haven't played in a long time

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor x GN! reader

LUCIFER... who keeps pictures of you safe in his wallet. Honestly... it's not the most flattering picture of you, but he likes it a fair bit. It reminds him of the times when he used to think of you as just "the human exchange student" and not "(Name), our family."

The picture - taken by the RAD newspaper club - shows you being introduced to the whole school as the new exchange student. You look completely unamused. If his memory serves him correctly, you had no sleep last night since Mammon was unaware of the human cardiac cycle and how you needed sleep everyday. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you were sort of glaring at him from where you were standing.

He was confidently giving his speech, face neutral and completely unaware of the eyes burning holes into his back. In fact, it only garnered more attention because you had the guts to glare at the third most powerful demon in all of Devildom in such a way. It probably slipped your mind then that he had the power to snap your neck in half.

He kept it in his wallet as a reminder to warn you about controlling yourself. It'd be especially bad for his image if the human he was taking care of had the nerve to glare at Diavolo like that. Though, he never really found the time. It slipped his mind all the time simply because you never glared at any of his brothers in that way as more and more time passed.

You were unreasonably kind, he realised.

Occasionally, Mammon will attempt to steal his wallet and gets the shock of his life when he sees a photo of you by his debit card. You look absolutely horrible and... man! Mammon won't be letting Lucifer off the hook anytime soon - or rather, it's the other way around now that Lucifer has Mammon strung upside down by Cerberus as a personal piñata.

MAMMON... the mastermind, and you, his partner-in-crime. News spreads like wildfire in devildom. With the amount of havoc that he imprints with his every step, it's natural that cameramen have a tendency to tail him when things get dry or mundane.

Poor you. You're always caught his trouble and plastered as his accomplice to the point where you've gained quite the notorious name around Devildom.

In the past when Mammon went missing, Lucifer found that there was a much more effective way to find the Avatar of Greed without lifting a finger. Rather than putting up missing posters, bounties were placed on Mammon's head - it ranged from $100,000 grimm to millions depending on Lucifer's mood. If someone did ever find the demon, they would receive the allocated amount of course. However, Mammon rivals no one at speed, the only person who would have him on a leash would be Lucifer.

Since you're always stringed along with Mammon during his schemes, Asmodeus jokingly decided to submit a stunning photo of you to RAD's newspaper club with a bounty of infinity. It went completely viral! You can't imagine how shocked everyone was to see a human's bounty in Devildom, wanted (alive) in all of the three realms and the top "criminal" in hell.

As an inside joke between the brothers, anyone who brings you back to the HOL requires at least 20,000 grimm or some form of payment if another brother wants to hang out with you (Beel gets paid the most, Levi is the top-payer). You were certainly surprised when Satan snatched you away when Mammon's back was turned to you. He returned you back to HOL, amused when Asmo actually gave Satan some spare Grimm. Asmo would insist on painting your nails, plopping you down on his bed as Satan decides that he also needed some personal time with you as an extra reward for bringing you back.

Now, Mammon has your bounty in his room as a reminder that he has the most precious treasure in the three realms with him, the person whose worth exceeds any countable number, you.

LEVIATHAN... who can be camera-shy sometimes and totally gets it if you feel the same way. Sometimes, he just doesn't feel that sure of himself and he realises you more in common with him than he expected when you admit that you'll occasionally feel that way too.

Most of the pictures he has of you two are faceless except for the really special occasions and he doesn't actually own physical copies of the pictures like his brothers. He keeps them safe in an folder on his gaming computer and he references them whenever he wants to add a custom character (you) into a new game.

Sure, it may seem a little creepy to have a collection of photos of someone else on your computer, yes I can see how that can play out. However, Levi really doesn't mean harm. Most of his pictures there are actually in-game moments with you.

Finally beat a really difficult boss together? Finished a game in record timing? Screenshotting that! That's gonna be stored in the folder for memory's sake. In reality, he has way more videos than photos of you and him together than anything. You once recorded how long he can yap about his recent hyper fixation and, safe to say, you completely underestimated him.

He has videos of both of your live reactions to a new anime opening song, definitely treats it like a stream and pretends that he's talking to an audience with you.

Levi does stream quite often and you usually get featured as his special guest, but you have to understand that you're working with the Avatar of Envy, sweetheart. He definitely found it a little upsetting when you saw Beel type in chat that he's saving extra food for you in the fridge. You rushed down immediately and when you left, he ended the stream without hesitation.

He's keeping his photos and videos of you to himself from now on. No more streaming with you.

SATAN... prefers miscellaneous photos of you. Caught off-guard, mouth agape and lips curled into a smile he's so used to cherishing that it's become second nature. It highlights your imperfections, yes, but he only grows more fond of it if it's you.

Ironically, it seems more humane to see you in that way - cupcake batter all over your face as you bake, a maple leaf stuck in your hair as autumn arrives in Devildom. It reminds him that, "hey, I'm still your human no matter how perfect I seem." It reassures him that you're still the human that tripped over his books on multiple occasions, never learning your lesson.

You seemed unreachable to him in the way that he feels like he doesn't really deserve you. A romantic, heartfelt kiss or soft whispers of comfort by the shell of his ear would ease the doubt in his heart. However, Satan has learned that looking at these genuine, authentic photos of you is quite effective as well.

Unfiltered, raw, even the borderline unsightly and vulgar version of you, it's nice in its own unique way. That's the way Satan was created - unsightly, bloody, horrid. Of course, it doesn't mean he sees you in a negative light, but seeing your imperfect sides... makes you feel a little less far from him somehow.

Past all of the charming smiles and gentlemanly demeanour is someone who isn't as perfect as he'd like to seem. You'd be able to understand him with all the impurities plaguing him, right? You'd still hug him and let his claws dig into the skin of your back? You'd forgive him?

"So what?" and with two words, he was completely appalled by the simplicity of your answer. In any case, your bluntness could be interpreted as rudeness. He'd be fuming at how lightly you're treating his issues. But, that's just how little you care about flaws.

Satan laughs. A weight lifts off his shoulders and he feels... relieved. Visit him tonight, won't you? He can finally admit to someone how hard it's been to master his wrath all alone.

ASMODEUS... who dedicates his own Devilgram as not only a memory of his best moments but also your best moments. And, oh my, did his fans love you.

When he first featured you, he actually received a little hate (he couldn't give two fucks) due to how controversial of a topic you were at first. Funnily enough, the puny human he calls family today gained him a lot of traction of Devilgram, especially after you became a hot topic once you formed your first pact with Mammon.

From behind the scenes, he'd keep his followers updated on you and the hot water you'd find yourself in, eating his popcorn with a grin and posting. The more he posted about you, the more his fans started appreciating how brave you actually were for a human.

You had a Devilgram of your own, but you rarely posted there since your first few months in Devildom were spent wisely on adjusting to the HOL. Your (unknown) admirers were getting their daily scraps of you through Asmo.

Asmo would realise sooner or later that having both you and him in a picture is the formula for a guaranteed successful post. The Avatar of Lust and a human (demons are literally TEMPTED to have their soul; it's described as a JEWEL) in one photo?! Oh shit, blow the whole roof off because it was a massive hit. (Trendsetter MC and Asmo!??!)

As for Asmo, he loves that his darling is also receiving the love and attention they deserve. In fact, he wholeheartedly supports you with every fibre of his being. He's your biggest fan and you're his.

Plus, his Devilgram is the perfect outlet to shock his brothers. He once posted a picture of himself by your side on his bed. He grins at the camera, showing off his smeared lipstick as your face is dotted with kiss marks.

Disappointingly, it got reported and taken down in an hour or so. (That doesn't mean he doesn't have the photo)

BEELZEBUB... sticks that family picture on the fridge with a magnet. Yeah, he could totally hang it at the entrance by the stairs. Sure, he could frame it up. Yet, it's more homey having it somewhere he always visits and looks at.

Additionally, when Beel's hunger gets the best of him, the picture on the fridge forces him to remember if he has any delegated tasks today. "Oh yeah, Satan wanted some help picking up books from the library today, something about a book sale." "Belphie told me his pillow had a hole in it; I better get him a new one after visiting Hell's Kitchen."

At times when the whole family isn't home, having the picture also serves as a mental checklist! "Oh yeah, MC hasn't eaten dinner yet. Better get them something." "Lucifer wanted another cup of black coffee I think, I'll get him a snack just in case." Making sure everyone is eating well is really important to him because of his own appetite. He hates how empty it feels being hungry, why would he ever put any of his family members through that kind of torture?

Furthermore, he feels a little guilty for always eating so much. Ensuring that everyone has eaten is a role that he's assigned for himself.

It's something the whole family values, but it's especially special for Beel. When he goes on a hunger rampage and tears the kitchen up from wall to wall, if there's any damage done to the photo... you can expect a lot of apologies. (Lucifer has to schedule another time for a family photo to cheer him up asap)

He still has an old photo of the whole family without you actually - it leaves a bittersweet feeling to throw out any kind of precious photo. Yet, the more he looks at it, the more it feels incomplete without you in the picture.

Huh, you know what? He'll search for you right now to grab something from Hell's Kitchen. Nothing much, he just wants to check up on you and get his 80 plates of cheeseburgers.

BELPHEGOR... who has a silver locket of you, him, and Beel on him at all times. It's convenient, lightweight, portable, and silver looks good on him according to Asmo.

Whenever he feels like he misses you or Beel (or both), opening up the locket solves 50% of his problems. However, it's not like he can hug the locket to sleep and bury his face into its shoulder. It's not as if the locket can carry him when his legs feel sore. All he can really do is hold it to his heart and shoot you/Beel a text.

Still, he does feel a little more relieved to see the photo. Whenever that rotting feeling of loneliness gets to him, one look at his locket reminds him that, "Hey, I still have them." It does ease his doubts, but we both know he'd never admit that openly.

Pressing the cold silver against his lips also became a habit he developed soon after getting the locket. Belphie... has chapped lips since he's always asleep and never drinking water. The cold feeling kind of distracts him from that uncomfortable feeling - it's much less effort than going all the way downstairs, grabbing a glass from the pantry, pouring water from a jug into it.... you know the drill.

Both you and Beel have one as well, but you don't wear it as often since Asmo loves to accessorize you with all sorts of new jewellery to try on. Beel wears it yeah, but it's usually off when he's eating - which is most of the time - since oil and grease are super obvious on silver stuff and it pains him to get something so precious dirty.

The other brothers are actually grateful he has the locket despite the initial jealousy. Belphie has his fair share of tantrums and everyone knows how younger, spoiled siblings can be when something pisses them off. The brothers have to try and baby him, which only ticks him off further. One peek at the locket when you or Beel aren't around and suddenly, it's like he's a new person - back to normal in a flash.

It saved Mammon's face a good punch when he accidently stepped on Belphie's foot at the planeterium while he was sleeping.

Taglist: Empty :(

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charlie-lec-stories · 5 months

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One too many // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: When you have one too many it's great to have two boyfriends.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive dancing, suggestive talk, wholesome Charles and overprotective Max.

Author’s Note: I almost forgot I wrote this, the Vegas GP reminded me of it, took a while to edit but is finally done. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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"It's Friday theeeeeen... Then Saturday, Sunday, WHAT?!".

Her silver dress moved around as her hips skillfully followed the tempo of the song. She was an incredible dancer, Max and Charles loved that about her and they equally loved the little shows they got to enjoy whenever she decided that the world was worthy of seeing her dancing on a table under the ever-changing lights of some club. What they didn't love was how unable she was to say no, and when Lando gave her another drink and she accepted it gladly, they both knew that they were in for a long night. Max had to drink some himself to stop the urge of going to that table, pick her up and take her home and Charles was just following her around, letting her be while also trying to keep her safe. They both had different approaches to the relationship, they had no trouble sharing with each other, but Max had a hard time with outsiders. He hated when other people looked at Charles or Y/N, he was convinced that everyone had second hand intentions and was constantly worried that someone could just not care about boundaries. This fear was mostly with Y/N, since she wasn't only a woman but also an eye-catching one. Men were trying to win her over all the time and he was sure that she'll never cheat on him and Charles, but the chances of crossing paths with a guy who could refuse to listen to a no made him want to keep her safe at home and never let her out again. Charles, on the other hand, had no problem with other people looking at his partners, actually, it made him quite proud. He loved to show her off and how pretty she was, and to show people how much of a champion his boyfriend was. He loved it when people would look at Y/N or listen to her talk and he could tell that they were thinking "Charles, you lucky bastard". He knew that people could be mean and sometimes disrespectful, but he loved how carefree she was and didn't have the heart to rain on her parade, so instead of trying to take her home, he just followed her around and kept an eye on her.

"And here's a Monster with vodka for you, darling". Max heard Lando say as he handed Y/N yet another drink. Enough was enough.

"No need for another drink, Schat". (Babe). He quickly grabbed the glass and moved it away from her. His British friend looked back at him frowning, probably because he didn't catch what Max said over the loud music. "You've had enough, mijn liefje". (My love).

"But Maaaaax". She whined and that only made the Dutchman feel even more sure that they had to call it a night.

"C'mon, let's go". She sighed and he helped her down the table. It was messy, she had zero balance and her dress was too short, making it harder to bring her drown without exposing her too much. Charles walked up to them to help but the monegasque's presence just made Y/N a lot less focused and she ended up falling on Max. He caught her and placed her securely on the floor, where she quickly threw herself at Charles and wrapped her arms around his neck while Max looked for her purse to finally go home.

"You are the most handsome man on Earth, Charles". She slurred her words a lot over the music, but Charles understood perfectly. He smiled wide at her. Even if she had admitted before that she used to feel like he was out of her league for years, he was the one that felt lucky that she ever laid eyes on him.

"Thank you, mon amour. You are the pretties girl ever". (My love). She giggled and he couldn't help but feel his heart warm up at the action. She was really cute when she was drunk.

"Okay, I think we're ready to go, are we?". Max asked Charles once he walked back to him with Y/N's purse in hand. The girl moved her gaze from Charles to Max and smiled drunkly at him.

"You can take me wherever you want, Maxie". She bit her lip while shamelessly checking him out and Max laughed out loud, he found her extremely funny when she flirted. She suddenly changed her expression to a frown.

"Is everything alright, Schat?".

"Bathroom". Was all she let out while she ran away. Max and Charles sprinted off behind her but she was thinner and scurried away between the mass of bodies easier than them. When they finally made it to the women's bathroom, after pushing their way though with much difficulty, she was already coming out. They were a few meters away when they saw a man approach her. They started arguing immediately and Max's protective instinct just switched on. "I said no!".

"You heard the lady, she said no". Max looked the guy up and down, putting his big frame to good use, puffing his chest out a little and feeling encouraged by Charles standing straighter next to him, ready to back him up. "Fuck off".

"Get your own bitch, dude, I found this one first". The man grabbed Y/N's wrist possessively and she started pulling her hand away, trying her best to break the grasp.

"I said fuck off. Do as you're told or I'll break your fucking face". The guy must have seen the killer glint in Max's eyes because he was letting go of Y/N's hand and running off in a second. "We're going home". He stated. "Now".

Y/N fell asleep the second they got on the Uber, she rested her head on Max's shoulder and grabbed Charles hand, sighing. They were close to their house and when they made it, they didn't have the heart to wake her up. Charles picked her up while Max paid the driver. The Dutchman opened the door to the building and they walked in, inside the elevator the space was narrow so Max covered Y/N's head the best he could so she couldn't hit it with the walls and Charles moved her a little make himself and her fit inside. They were both glad to be home, Y/N was a handful when she drank but the night went pretty good compared to others. The elevator stopped at their floor and Max unlocked the door to the loft. Charles carefully walked out and into their home, then went straight to the bedroom. He placed his girl on the bed and took off her heels. She murmured something but didn't wake up. He could hear Max in the kitchen, probably getting water and then go to the bathroom to grab an aspirin from the first aid kit. Their girlfriend was up for a hell of a hungover the next morning. He moved her to make her laid on her side and unzipped her dress. Max walked in and placed the pill and the water bottle on one of the nightstands and went to the closet to grab an old shirt for Y/N. Charles took her dress off and Max handed him the shirt, the monegasque looked back at his boyfriend with a stern look when he noticed that the shirt was a Red Bull one.

"What? She used one of yours the other night". Max defended himself, walking close to his boyfriend. Charles scoffed.

"She had her PJs in the laundry basket. They are clean now". Charles argued, both of them trying to keep their voices down.

"I won the last race. I want her wearing my shirt. Stop messing around or I'll ask you to wear one too". Charles quickly pecked Max's lips then laughed at his childish behavior, putting the shirt on Y/N anyways. The whole conversation and all the movement finally woke her up.

"Where are we?". She asked softly, Charles caressed her cheek and moved the hair out of her face.

"We are home, Amour". She smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Great. I like home". Max chuckled.

"Good to know you like home, Schat". He sat on the bed next to her and started moving at the sheets so she could get under them, but her drunken mind was going somewhere else. He felt her sneak her hands under his shirt and run her nails over his abs. "Stop playing around, you're drunk, nothing's happening tonight".

"Ugh, you're boring". She turned her attention to Charles and her hand went directly to the button of his jeans, he grabbed her hand gently and pushed her down on the bed.

"You heard Max, no action tonight, Amour". She huffed, frustrated.

"But I'm horny as fuck". Max took off his jeans and shirt, putting on some shorts he found lying around. Charles laughed when he noticed that those were his, Ferrari's logo at the edge of the right leg, but he didn't tell Max.

"No sober, no consent". Said Max as he got into bed and tugged her close to him, making room for Charles who was also taking his clothes off to get more comfortable. He grabbed some Mercedes shorts that Toto gave him as a joke-gift when he stated dating Y/N and then went to bed. If Max was wearing something Ferrari and Y/N a RBR shirt, then it was fair he wore something from Mercedes, right?

"Okay, but we have to do it in the morning". She turned around so Max could hug her from behind, while Charles laid in front of her, snuggling close. She buried her face on his chest and inhaled his scent. They moved as close as possible and fell asleep in a blink.

The light coming from the window woke Charles way earlier than he wanted to wake up, the warm feeling on his face comforting, but his eyes hurting. Y/N was still in his arms, sound asleep, and Max next to her, awake and face up, his right arm covering his eyes. They forgot to draw the curtains before going to bed but they were both too lazy to get up and fix it. Charles loved days like this, where they could stay in bed all day if they wanted to, cuddling, watching movies and chatting. They spent all of their time together, working on the same field and living together, still, he never got bored or needed time alone. He just loved to be close to them both. He knew that Max liked that too, even if he didn't express it that much. Max came from a pretty cold family, while Charles came from a warm one. His parents were lovely, and he had a close relationship with his mother, even more since his father passed away. Max, on the other hand, was kind of distant with his mother, even thought he loved her a lot, and was forced to be civil with his father, who he strongly disliked. It was weird for Max to finally end up with a family that was this warm with him, who cared so much about him. So he enjoyed every second they had together. The little family they created was Max's most precious treasure and he cherished it with his whole heat. They stayed laying on bed for a while, until Max couldn't take it anymore and got up. He draw the curtains and then went to the bathroom. Y/N moved closer to Charles and he kissed her head, she still smelled like champagne and even though he loved the smell, she still needed a shower. The sound of Max flushing the toilet woke her up and she stirred a bit, moving away from Charles. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, then she moved around to look at Max, but she couldn't find him. Charles giggled at her pout.

"He's in the bathroom". She turned around again and brushed her nose with his. He went down for a kiss but she moved away. Now it was his turn to pout.

"My breath is terrible". Max laughed from the bathroom doorway.

"Doesn't surprise me, Schat. You mixed almost everything on stock and then threw up in the bathroom". She groaned and drop her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. The two men chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm suffering". She started getting up. "I'm never drinking again".

"You said that last Monday". Charles reminded her.

"And the one before". Max added, she just flipped them off.

"Fuck you both".

"Yeah, you tried that last night". Max told her when she finally walked up to him on the doorway to the bathroom.

"Really?". She walked past him and prepared everything to brush her teeth.

"Yes. Nothing happened, of course, but you're a persistent woman, Amour". Max went back to the bed and just then noticed that he was wearing the Ferrari shorts. He groaned and Charles let out a burst of laugher, Max sending him a killer gaze. Y/N walked out of the bathroom to find Charles spread out on the bed while Max took off his shorts.

"Oh, I guess we're picking up where we left off?". She walked to Max and kissed him fondly, her minty breath mixing his. But her head started hurting and she had to step away. "Ugh, my head is killing me".

"Maybe you should sleep a little more, Schat". Max suggested, ignoring completely the effect the kiss had on him.

"Here, take the aspirin". Charles passed her the pill and the water bottle. She took them and he got up, going to the bathroom too. Max went back to the bed and Y/N swallowed the pill with some difficulty. They heard Charles brushing his teeth too and she followed Max back into bed. They started kissing again, but at some point he pulled away, knowing that they all needed more sleep to recover from the night out.

"I want to be in the middle again". She told him and Max rolled his eyes.

"You're so needy". She hit his shoulder but he let her take his place anyways. Charles walked out and went straight back to bed. They resumed the position they were all in before.

"Can I have my kiss now? We both brushed our teeth, Amour". Y/N giggled and moved close to him, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync for a while, until Charles started to feel the same effect Max felt before and broke the kiss. "Let's stop here and get some more sleep. You need it, Y/N".

"Okay, but we have fun when we wake up". Max chuckled behind her and kissed her shoulder.

"Of course, Schat".

They all fixed their positions to get more confortable and tried to go back to sleep again. Charles and Max grabbed each other's hand and rested them on Y/N's waist, Charles running his thumb in circles over Max's hand. The boys were almost asleep when Y/N spoke up.

"Thank you for taking care of me". She whispered it, vulnerability dripping from her words. "I know that I can be a handful". She sighed and they both hugged her tighter. "I love you both, so much".

"We love you too, Amour". Charles kissed her forehead. "You don't have to thank us for taking care of you. We'll always look after you".

"Always. No matter what, Schat".

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Okay! I hope you guys liked it! I'm in the process of editing three more stories, so more content will be uploaded soon. As always, thank you for reading.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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lo1k-diamonds · 23 days

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SX Seoul series | Namjoon entry 💜 Closer

GIF by namchyoon

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark.

WORD COUNT: 8.2k

GENRE: friends to lovers, smut (it's lovemaking tbh)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: reader is shy and introverted, mentions of anxiety, being in the dark in an agitated crowd (reader is safe w/ NJ), fear of losing a friendship, porn w/ plot (lovemaking, or my version of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up), dry humping, riding, they're both shy and idiots in love but they make it 💜

A.N. Is this a slow burn? Am I searingly slowly taking you all on the journey that is kissing and feeling Kim Namjoon? Some could say there was no need to describe it in such detail. They would be wrong 💜

Someone called your name and you looked up.

“Come on! Don’t fall behind!”

You gasped mutely and rushed in between the ever-growing crowd to join your friends and coworkers atop the stairs. The line wasn’t too big tonight but you still preferred to stay close to them — no way you wanted to be left alone in a bar street in Itaewon in the middle of the night. You pressed your hands nervously, looking around while your friends laughed about something you didn’t hear. No, you didn’t want that. There could be weird people and drunk people, and you were the designated driver anyway—

“Hey!”

You blinked at Juhyun through your glasses with big wide brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Come along!” She sighed, extending her hand so you’d grab it, and you did with relief.

You gave your coat at the reception with a polite head bow, following closely after everyone. The noise hit your ribcage with the force of an alarm, making you grin with gritted teeth but you took a deep breath and hurried along. It wasn’t like you never went out, or had never been there before. SX Seoul had become the preferred club of people working in the industry, and so you found yourself with a vibrating ribcage and sweaty hands every once in a while. However, you did get anxious in crowded loud places like bars and clubs. An elbow sank into your side as you followed after Juhyun and despite the person’s apology and head bow, which you returned, you smiled with a hint of tiredness. The night had just begun.

You got set on the couches, saying hi to everyone you knew who was already there, and smoothly offered to help everyone get drinks. That was an easy way for you to get an alcohol-free drink early on and successfully avoid being offered drinks for a long while.

“Look who’s DJing tonight!”

You had sat near Juhyun after handing her a drink and smiled happily, engaging in light conversation.

“Didn’t you write his breakout music video?”

“Yeah, I did!”

You smiled politely, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your stomach — you might have not liked the constant background house beat that had you all screaming to be heard, but you did feel proud of your work. Of every concept you had written, every storyboard you had designed, and every screening you helped with that led you to where you were now — in a creative atmosphere surrounded by like-minded people who just wanted to bring joy and artistry to the world.

As the night continued, you were more and more comfortable, surrounded by people you knew. You didn’t think it could get better, but as soon as Namjoon arrived, you grinned from ear to ear and chuckled at your silliness.

“Hi everyone!” You instantly scooted over and made space for him to sit beside you and join in the conversation, yet as you tried to keep up, he leaned in, “Driving?”

You turned to him and smiled sheepishly, something he returned with a sweetness of his own. You had been friends forever; he knew the answer to his own question.

“Your hair,” he added.

You blinked then felt for it over your shoulders and chest, trying to see in between psychedelic blinding lights if something had happened to it or something.

“No! Just— It’s loose!”

You blinked again, pressing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked briefly, looking down before facing you again with a gentle puff, “It looks good!”

Your lashes batted once before someone asked for his attention, and just in time. You could feel the heat spreading from your chest to your cheeks and turned to sip at your drink seemingly absentmindedly.

He noticed? You didn’t know why it surprised you so much; Namjoon was an attentive friend. Caring too, he always noticed when something was going wrong or a project was difficult. He always offered to help you out, and you did the same. You had that kind of relationship — friendly and supportive. Of course, that didn’t mean he had to notice your hairstyle for tonight. You had just let go of your usual braids for something more casual — just loose over your shoulders. And now there you were, playing with the long hair locks over your chest like your heart wasn’t fluttering at the simplest interaction.

“Hey! Let’s dance!”

You nodded at Juhyun and got up with a smile that crumbled just a little when Namjoon got up too. He scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at you and Juhyun.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?”

“Of course not!”

She had answered for you because yet again you were pressing your lips. Namjoon wasn’t half as bad a dancer as he thought he was and you had all danced together before. Had you blushed then as you did now? You wondered as you beelined to the center of the dancefloor; you couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. You smiled as you turned to Namjoon in that circle of people just randomly facing each other in turns. It didn’t have to be anything much, you were just having fun. All of you. It was absolutely fine.

He grabbed your hand and wiggled it for you to pivot and move around and you just laughed and did as told because it was fun. And not a big deal if he didn’t do it to the others, they were busy shouting in each other’s ears anyway.

You felt light and didn’t think it could get better than this when all of a sudden everything became pitch black. The music shut down and suddenly all you could hear was your ears ringing annoyingly and people either shouting or wondering a bit louder than usual about what was going on. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that it couldn’t be normal for a club to just abruptly shut down like that, and it was enough for your anxiety to instantly spike and sting your chest. Yet a pair of arms circled you lightening fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.

Your cheeks were squished against his pectorals and you could hear a heart racing equally to yours under your ear. A question never formed itself, you knew exactly who was hugging you. It was safe now. You hugged him back and closed your eyes, using his body like an anchor to keep your anxiety from releasing you into the rowdy sea.

Namjoon could hear people getting agitated all around you two, making him squeeze you harder against him. People got nervous in situations like those. They could start running for the exit, pushing and stepping over people without a care if the panic was big enough. And as the absence of music and light continued, mere seconds felt like minutes cracking under the pressure as people became agitated.

He knew crowded places made you anxious. That was how you justified the way he was pressing his lips to the top of your head. It made your already racing heart jump with a foreign feeling, which mixed with his musky cologne had you sweating and not out of nervousness.

A louder shout not so far from you startled you into pressing your fingertips into his lower back and he immediately hugged you tighter. His lips brushed the top of your head again but the agitation around you was too loud, making it impossible to discern what he had said. Yet, regardless, you were safe. You could feel people shifting around you, voices becoming louder, and the occasional glimpse from people's phones. A wave of appreciation and gratitude flooded you, flowing over your anxiety and you unglued your cheek from his shirt to tell him.

His lips pressed lightly atop your cheekbone and your breath caught. His nose had tapped against your glasses and you instinctively squinted though you couldn’t see. None of it bothered you though, on the contrary. Your lips parted in surprise, his thumb dragging across your jawline as if to make sure of where you were in the dark.

You forgot about the world around you. You were suspended in the air, in a trance, waiting for what would happen next, and it happened unexpectedly. His forehead touched yours and you closed your eyes, letting him cradle you sweetly. Little did he know that you could feel no anxiousness now, you were a blank page waiting to be written on.

Or maybe he knew. He didn’t force your chin but he did mutter something while his lips brushed your jawline, and you turned your head. Curiosity, it was all it was. Because you hadn’t heard him, but as your skins brushed, your lips caught the subtle hint of something plush and wet for the tiniest of moments.

You became dizzy and gripped his shirt at the end of his back. Was that what you thought it was? Was that—?

All it took was a millimeter for him to give you the hint that you took without hesitation. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth and you sighed, eyes scrunching with the tension inside your chest. You were no mind and all instinct when you parted your lips further to get more, just a bit more. All you were ready to do was react, so when it felt like he was about to break away, you closed in.

You were incredibly aware of everything that involved Namjoon. The way his long fingers supported your jawline with a feather-like touch, his short hair falling just above his eyes tickling you where it got to your skin around your glasses, the softest touch of his plush lips as even his breath eased, the gentlest breeze caressing your face whenever you tentatively parted and rejoined like waves kissing the shore.

You were aware of everything, and yet when the lights and music came back on, you were helpless. Namjoon straightened up to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, while you were just looking up at him, gripping him still, trying to figure things out on your own. What was that? What—

“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked right behind you and you jumped in place, startled. You let go of Namjoon, and it was he who answered.

“Yeah, we stayed cool. Are you?”

“Yeah, they pushed around a bit though, geez,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. “What do you think happened?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

You didn’t hear anything anymore, you were just staring up at him as he talked. Good question. You had no idea either. What happened? Did you really just kiss—

“Listen, if you’re bummed out, that’s okay,” Juhyun shouted above the music, pressing your arm gently. She looked concerned and you tried a smile.

You could guess you looked as befuddled as you felt, “Yeah, I kind of— But I’m your driver!” You shouted instead, remembering your responsibility with a firm shake of your head.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch a taxi!” She shouted with a nod. She knew you were usually anxious; something unnerving like that was surely too much for you. “I’m just worried about you going alone!”

“I’ll go with her,” Namjoon nodded, unwavering, and before you got to say something, Juhyun agreed.

“Take care, text me when you’re home,” she asked you, squeezing your hand once.

You were frowning, about to suggest staying a bit more so you could take her home too when a firmer hand replaced hers. Namjoon returned your gaze, said a quick goodbye with a wave to everyone else, and then pulled you behind him as he made your way out.

Your mind slowly got back on track with every step you took. His hand was firmly wrapped around yours, and despite his wide shoulders in front of you, sheltering you from the chaos, your anxiety guided your thoughts back to the surface with a forced gasp.

What were you doing? Maybe this would turn awkward. You and Namjoon had been good friends for years, you had always counted on him. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe he would be uncomfortable around you now. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to lose his joyful grins, relaxing bicycle rides, and long quiet reading sessions back at his place.

You bowed as you took your coat at the reception and put it on before stepping out into the cold. He was no longer holding your hand, which was holding the coat’s collar to your neck instead. You swallowed and looked down, freezing atop the stairs while you ran by the options and he stepped down ahead of you. You don’t have to leave earlier because of me. I can get home safely by myself. I’m sorry if that was awkward, I—

“Where’s your car?”

You sucked in a breath and told him before turning to walk intently as quickly as possible. The cold was rough on your cheeks, despite the big round lenses of your glasses. You gritted your teeth not to quiver as you stepped carefully over the slippery sidewalk.

When you got to your car, you got in quickly and turned it on to give it time to warm up a bit. Namjoon had followed you inside in silence and was so quiet that his presence could have been buried under your anxiety.

You brushed your flushed cheeks and tried pulling your long hair free, realizing it was trapped between your blouse and the coat. You were so used to having braids that you forgot you needed to tend to your hair properly whenever you put your coat on and now you were stiff and stuck and—

“Easy,” he rasped, reaching to help you and you froze. You glanced up at him and stayed still as he alleviated the tension of the fabric over your shoulders to gently pull your hair out before leaning to repeat the same action on the other side. By then your eyes had lowered to his hands. The way he was handling your dark threads of hair as if it was the most precious silk, worthy of care and attention. “There.”

Your eyes jumped up in time to see him leaning back, a perfectly blank expression making your chest pang in nervousness. You were overthinking again.

“Thanks!” You squeaked, clearing your voice immediately as you leaned forward to reach the GPS screen, “Now, to Joonie’s…”

The drive was easier than you thought it would be. He commented on the cold, and then on what happened at the bar. He had never seen something like that at a bar, only at festivals or concerts. He wondered if the whole street had a power outage or if it was just that room. You mused that if it had been more than just the room, you’d surely hear about it in the news.

And just like that the car became quiet. Seoul always had traffic, even at 2:52 AM, it was nothing new. So while you comfortably focused on taking him home safely, your thoughts wandered elsewhere.

His lips were the softest thing you had ever touched in your life. Just the delicateness with which you had kissed, you didn’t think you had it in you. Weren’t kisses supposed to be messy? Powerful and passionate? Then how had you touched the pillowy clouds above?

Just remembering it had your guts burning in excitement, and you pressed your lips. Were you making any sense? But you had really done that; hiddenly in the dark, yes, but really. You had acted on your instinct for the first time and gotten a glimpse of the sky.

You wondered why now. Your friendship was old and comfortable, and he had always been a gentleman, protective but never overbearing. You thought he saw you as a colleague initially and then a friend with similar tastes. You pressed your lips right as you stopped the car in front of his apartment building. One glance at him and you knew that was the same old Namjoon you were used to. Maybe you had dreamed it. Maybe it was supposed to stay a dream.

“Would you like to come up?”

Your eyes jumped and widened, the shock as evident in your expression as a blinking billboard sign.

“I finished the new Murakami,” he continued swiftly, “so you can take it if you want. Or any other book.”

Your lips instantly twitched into a smile, “You finally finished it, then.”

He smirked as you turned off the engine and reached to get your bag, “Finally. You know how I am with his books.”

You nodded and got out of the car, the negative temperature clashing with your blushing cheeks. Yet you only smiled, locked the car, and teased him while you both went inside. Even the ride up the elevator was lighter; you two were back to your eased friendship where you got to poke fun at his annoyance with the repetitiveness of Murakami’s plotlines while enjoying every other detailed introspection he had to offer.

So when you passed the threshold of his apartment, you were as always. You both got your shoes off, though you kept your coat because you weren’t going to stay long. He offered you a drink despite you insisting that it was a quick visit, and as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what he could offer, you beelined to his reading corner.

That space always brought a smile to your face and comfort to your heart. That corner of the living room had a bookshelf from floor to ceiling separated by squared compartments that combined books and small plant pots in a myriad of colors. His most cherished one, however, was the bonsai on the small table next to the gray reading chair and ottoman. He'd let you take up the chair whenever you would read or work at his place, with him preferring the couch so he could stretch his legs more comfortably. You preferred the reading chair because the setting was a mood changer for you and you could use the different shelves to place your open books, especially when designing or writing ideas. Each square was organized in a particular way: some by authors, others by category, or type of work.

“I don’t have much,” you could hear him returning to you. “But I can make tea.”

You shook your head while you crouched, taking a look at your favorite section, “It’s okay, I won’t stay long. Where’s the Murakami?”

“Right here,” his voice sounded from above your head, and you glanced up to see him towering over you, reaching for the book lying by the ledge on the appropriate shelf. He eyed you and you smirked, pushing your glasses up your nose bridge before looking back down. The corners of his lips twitched as he gripped the book inside his hands; he knew you were just happily skimming through your favorite shelf, and that wasn’t the issue. You weren’t the issue, you were— He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh, right, I have another one.”

He placed the Murakami book on the small table and left your side in the direction of his bedroom, you noticed. You pressed your lips and got up, grabbing the book he was holding just now. Blood was rushing to your cheeks and you took a short breath to ease yourself. You were there just to grab that book. You were alone at Namjoon’s, and that had happened hundreds of times before. Not that you had ever kissed before, but you could be cool. It was in the dark anyway. Conceptually, if you were thinking of the outline of a music video, that meant it was a secret. You could keep a secret. You could pretend it never happened.

Overhearing his steps pulled you from the depths of your thoughts to check what he had in his hands.

“Here,” he grinned, showing it to you.

It was a book and you gasped before you grabbed it. The cover had the digital drawing of a little girl on her bed, not lying down, but facing the wall behind her that had become an ocean with sparkling rays floating above. The title read, ‘Windows to Worlds: The Art of Devin Elle Kurtz’. You thought the name rang a bell as you opened and skimmed through it.

“I thought of you,” he smiled, dimples sinking sweetly into his cheeks at your interested demeanor.

“Woah, her use of color and lighting looks absolutely astounding,” you breathed, alternating between gasping and stopping your breath altogether with each new page.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“But why did you get it?” You finally caught up, looking up at him. “Because I was struggling with lighting?”

Your tone was appreciative and almost savvy as if you knew you had guessed his intent correctly. Yet he shook his head once, “Because of the braids.”

You lowered your eyes to the cover again and indeed, the little girl had two braids, much like you usually sported. You smiled, “Do you think she has glasses too?”

“Maybe,” he acceded, nodding with ease.

You looked back down at the cover — the girl had her palms against the glass as if she was staring into a new magical world. It brought warmth to your chest. Not just because it was beautiful or because it was going to help you, but because Namjoon saw some of it in you.

You pressed the books to your chest, facing him to thank him when your smile fell. His expression had lost some of its casualness and you were immediately flooded with apprehension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

His tone was so gentle it brought tears to your eyes. It was Namjoon. All of it, all of your doubts and anxiety were about one of the most important people in your life. Who cared how you might have felt; you absolutely could not jeopardize your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed so sincerely your voice shook.

“Oh.”

“I… It was…”

Your gaze was on the floor around his feet on the white carpet as you tried to find words. You half expected him to move or make things less awkward with his spirited humor, but he waited.

So you said what came to mind, “An accident. Right? It was an accident,” you repeated, ignoring the heat making your glasses fog ever so slightly. “It was dark and…”

You sucked in a breath and pushed your glasses up your nose bridge to soothe yourself, and froze when he nodded slowly.

“I… can’t call it an accident.”

Your eyes widened impossibly, “But— But then— I mean,” you blinked, “that would mean…”

You were just stammering and he smiled, “Yes. I don’t just— I wouldn’t just—” He smirked, scratching the back of his head, “I’d be lying if I said—”

His voice got caught inside his throat. You were looking up at him with eyes so big he feared they’d pop or something. He thought he was ready to talk about it and get it out in the open but— Were you even breathing?

“You know what? Never mind,” he shrugged, with a smile that pressed his plush lips too thin.

Your eyes widened even more, “No—” You almost choked from your impulse and instinctively stepped back, and everything went dark.

You held your breath as if you had been caught in a trap. You could have been back at the club, but there was no crowd, no fear, and no pressure. There was light still shining from his bedroom, reassuringly outlining his silhouette. You were safe, just like then. And it formed the words out of your mouth.

“I can't call it an accident either,” you confessed, and instantly your shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see him, but you knew him. You knew of his presence and the way he would never judge or hurt you. “I kissed you back.”

The silence continued between you but you found comfort in it. It was as though you had time to process, to put yourself back in your shoes moments earlier when exactly like that, in the dark, you let something from deep within surface.

“I was… curious,” you voiced quietly.

“Curious?”

“What would you… feel like? How would you…” you were getting lost and closed your eyes. You could almost feel him again, his warmth, his scent, the firmness of his arms around you, helping you levitate safely into the clouds. Your eyes opened at the sound of a footstep and you instantly flushed, “I mean, I— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, don't say sorry.” His outline drew closer until he stopped right in front of you. “You were curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Why was your heart racing so fast? You were so hot that you knew for a fact your glasses were fogging, despite not being able to see it. You swallowed and fanned your face a little, self-conscious about your hands becoming sweaty and dirtying the books.

Yet as you tried to calm down, you realized silence was stretching. He was waiting, of course, gentlemanly as he was. And you were embarrassed but in the dark, you also wanted to be brave.

“I liked it.”

You left it there, your sincere answer to his question. Your heart was thrumming wildly but you were not half as nervous as you thought you’d be.

“I liked it too.”

Your breath caught as you looked up despite barely seeing a silhouette. What?

“Would you do it again?”

“Now?” Your voice pitched.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Your tone was inquisitive, but it was more out of shock that he said yes. You were heating up so much you didn’t think you were processing thoughts logically, and you weren’t. Your head was blank, “Yes.”

It felt like an eternity, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were just too eager to see what happened next, to feel him again and check if your head would be caught spinning as you floated away to the clouds again.

The books in your hands disappeared quickly, only the sound of them hitting the table told you their fate, and not that you cared. His breath was fanning your face and your head instantly fell back, tapping the wall as your lips parted and you waited for what you wanted most.

When it didn’t instantly come, you had no issues soothing his hesitation by guiding his hands to your jaw. You wanted him to know where you were; exactly there, between the wall and his safe embrace, waiting.

Finally, his breath was so close it fully stopped when your lips locked together in a feather-like touch, and you moved. You pressed yourself closer, brushing his lips so you’d match completely. Your mouth dove into a sweeter taste, fingers tracing up his neck tentatively to grasp that feeling. And he let you, falling in with you, leaning into you as far as you’d let him.

Your lips parted in an invitation that he took promptly, leaving a wet trace on your bottom lip before he committed. You sighed into his mouth, gripping his shirt to pull him closer. He could reach into you and all around you; you were falling. There was an expanse behind and all around you and it reminded you of free falling; it was probably what skydiving felt like. Only you weren’t nearing the ground but going further from it. That sky was about to catch you; a sweet, soft, endearing sky about to clasp you affectionately and carry you into a dream.

You only stopped because he pulled back, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your cheek. It was when you noticed that you two fit together like puzzle pieces, with your fingers buried in the nape of his neck, his into your lower back, your breaths mixing as your legs intertwined.

His breath was heavy against your warm cheek, “This can stay here. In the dark. If you want.”

You were too far to recognize the concern in his voice, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” his reply was instant, a subtle shake of his head as his lips dragged over your heated skin. “No, I'm curious about way more than this.”

You opened your eyes, eager to see in him what he meant, but the darkness hid his expression. It protected you, yes, but now, it made you uneasy. There was a moment when it had soothed your fears, maybe even made you brave, but now it was enough.

“Would turning the light on bother you?”

You felt his smile before he pulled away, “Not at all.”

His hands were still supporting your waist as you felt the wall behind you until you flipped the switch. You shut your eyes instantly with a grimace and knew he had done the same.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, “I told you you could.”

His eyes opened first, eager to bypass the sudden sensibility so he could look at you as soon as possible. Your eyes and nose were still scrunched, your glasses had fallen lower on your nose than you liked normally, and the top of your cheeks was beautifully blushed. He didn’t resist cupping your cheek to brush his thumb over the red hue and your eyes opened, looking up at him over your glasses. You were so close to each other but you couldn’t look or move away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes set on yours as if he was seeing stars.

“How can you see anything, we’re so close,” you whined with a huff.

He chuckled, “Yeah?”

You pouted; your glasses were falling down your nose bridge again, and he grinned. He was so unbelievably happy right now, and as you pressed the glasses further up, he wished it would never end.

“Is it…” you were quiet, “better like this?”

“Much better,” he assured confidently, looking into your eyes intently.

Every time you blinked, wherever you glanced, he kept his cool and tried holding his fear in check — what if you suddenly pushed him away, became uneasy, or regretted this?

Yet your eyes fixed on his as your hand returned gently to the side of his neck, “You said… you’re curious about more?”

He couldn’t breathe, “Yes.”

“What… does that mean?”

Your voice was a thread and he swore he became dizzy, “You. I—” His lips twitched as he found words, “I want to be with you.”

He settled on that simple fact and shushed his racing heart. It was too soon to confess how long he had been thinking about this, how far he had fallen, and how deeply sure he was that there was no one else he wanted. Nowhere else he wanted to go, no other person who could be home, no other soul he wanted to share his time with. Shit, this was not the time for a love confession.

“Not in the dark,” you mused, thinking back. “But here,” you searched his eyes with a light line between your eyebrows. “Do you want that? To be… a moment of—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, making sure that every point you touched each other conveyed that. “I want more than a moment, than one night, than a place, than— No,” he breathed. “I want so much more.”

You weren’t sure there was any reaction you could have given because you were floating again. His arms were around you, his mouth speaking words you had long wished to hear, and you waited. It felt like the right thing to do; you just waited for him to become so much more.

“And you?” He asked after waiting to hear your thoughts. “Where would you take this?”

You almost choked with your instant answer, “All the way.”

His eyebrows jumped before his expression scrunched into a rapturous smile, and you filled your chest with air. You needed it, you needed a big deep breath before the dive. When his forehead touched yours, you stayed close, eyes half-hooding, waiting, and ready. You had been ready for a while, all there was left to do now was fly.

You were waiting for his kiss when he grabbed your head, both of you eager and gentle in your grip on the other. His lips were as soft as before but now he was pressing harder, searching for something in the depths of your kiss, and you met him halfway. There was the passion you had thought of before, making your skin pucker as your breathing dragged. It was curious how you were so focused on every little detail of his — his jawline moving under your fingertips, the soft skin at the column of his neck, his wide shoulders where your arms found support to press him closer to you — but had no actual thoughts. Every brush of his lips had you sinking further, every lick of his tongue had you immersed until his hands were pulling you to him and barely letting you touch the ground.

When your feet did touch the ground you lost your balance a little and inadvertently fell into him, which had him feeling behind him to make sure he could sit down. Your lips parted and he looked up at you, hands supportive but not pressuring you. He waited for you to decide if you’d follow him or not, and you didn’t hesitate. You raised a knee to his outer thigh and he instantly supported it, helping you to straddle him effortlessly before he leaned back into the reading chair.

You towered over him a little bit and as he hugged you close, you couldn’t help remembering how many times you had sat in that same chair just to read. Now he was there with you, under you, kissing your neck gently, and you kissed his head with the excitement bubbling under your skin. This was really happening, you could barely contain yourself.

He pressed you to sit closer to him and you guided him to look up just so you could dive into his kiss again. His skin was so soft, his touch so gentle as he let you steer your mouths until your head started spinning. You went deeper with every kiss, and with every sparkle, you became daring. Your fingers laced around his hair, your breaths one and the same as your hips moved on their own accord to fuse you two in any way possible. Your instinct was taking over, regardless of how you ground against him or leaned into him as if it would merge you two together.

You were hot and breathless when you felt a hint of his fingertips brushing the skin at your lower back, and instinctively you pulled back. He looked up at you, instantly wary of mistakenly crossing a line, but in a rustle of clothes, your blouse went up and away, thrown on the floor.

You faced him then, the goosebumps forming on your skin wherever his fingertips brushed your back as you seemed to exude heat. Not even for a moment did you wonder if you were going too far, despite being in a bra only in front of him. Rather you eyed his shirt and pouted, and he got it; in a second it was gone too.

Your lips twitched as you stroked down his neck, over his clavicles, and to his wide shoulders. You knew he’d be perfect, you knew you’d go well beyond liking every inch of him, but reality was far sweeter than your imagination. Before you could lean in and kiss every inch, he beat you to it. His pillowy lips grazed over the expanse of your neck before lowering down your chest and you sank your nails on his shoulders. It was the lightness of his touch, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his tongue as he explored everything until he dared lower. He moved slowly, maybe hesitated, and your hand darting to the back of his head to support him eased him.

He kissed and nuzzled every inch of your chest then settled over your sternum, breathing you in between your breasts just above the center gore. You knew why he stopped, but you were riding the shivers and throbs his every breath drew out of you, and you didn’t want it to stop. You reached behind you and unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide off your arms while you held his gaze. Yes, you wanted to do this. Yes, you wanted him to touch you, to know how he—

His hands over your waist raised to cup your breasts and rub your nipples and you shivered, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. The more he brushed over the hardened tips, the less control you had over a deep whine wanting to escape your lips.

You were biting your lip in this sweet struggle when he glanced up at you before leaning in to take one inside his mouth, and you whined. Your hips bucked over him, drawing closer while your cries grew and expanded with every lick of his tongue. You were grinding hard on him now, unaware of how unruly you were being. Your cries just needed to be heard, your hunger satiated as you searched for friction and wondered why it wasn’t as intense as it should be.

Your chest was wet by the time he parted his mouth from the delicate skin, but you didn’t have time to think about it. His hands gripped your hips to press you closer, and you jumped out of his arms in a mix of outrage and eagerness.

So that was why you couldn’t feel him properly, you concluded, as you unbuttoned your jeans. Of course, how stupid. At least it was easily fixed.

You only stopped when your clothes hit the floor. His eyes locked with yours and you hesitated. You were totally naked in your eagerness, maybe you were going too fast. But his hands guiding yours to his shoulders before he leaned in to kiss over your tummy made you realize you were being silly. His eyes were glistening, looking up at you before closing to enjoy the taste of your skin, his cheeks were red, and despite his pants, the tent was very visible.

You wanted to be close so you raised your knee again, and once more he guided you to straddle him. He kissed quickly up your chest before eying your mouth, and you obliged. Kissing him like this was more vulnerable, open, and raw, but you wanted to. His fingertips stroked your sides softly downwards and you sighed into his mouth, gripping him closer. You wanted so much more.

His hands settled atop your hips and it made you whine and wiggle so they would move. It didn’t occur to you to separate your mouths and tell him to touch you; in fact, no thoughts were occurring to you. He seemed to hesitate on where to go while palming your hips, and in the end, it was your hand that guided him to where you wanted him. You froze amidst your kiss, mouth agape as your eyes opened when his fingers skimmed your sex. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath halting as you waited for him. His eyes were set on you, carefully taking in your expression as he dared to brush lower, exploring down your mound, around your hooded clit, and gently over your folds before retracing his steps.

A strangled quiet moan had you closing your eyes to get lost. His fingers were drawing circles over your clit, ever so gently, prodding how to please you without hurting you, and you sank your nails into the back of his neck. You could worship that man now — it was all you knew as you looked at him between half-hooded eyes. Every circle brought a spark, a throb, a buck of your hips until the tension inside you made you jump away from his touch. You kissed him hard then, grabbing his head desperately — you wanted him, not just his hand.

You reached between your bodies to cup his bulge and he choked in your kiss. You pressed harder, too curious to let him breathe or get away, and searched for a way to open his pants, but it was difficult without looking. Fortunately, he understood perfectly what you wanted and got to it.

He raised you off his lap for the single moment it took him to squirm and slide his clothes down his legs before settling you over him again. His skin was burning hot against your inner thighs and as you kissed him, you imagined it was because he wanted you the same way.

You reached again for him and this time there were no barriers. You felt his hard length gently, caressing its soft skin carefully before stroking him against your palm.

He grunted into your cheek; your lips had parted so you both could focus on those new sensations. Something wet was making it easier to stroke him and press the head gently, with every movement earning you something, whether a groan, a sigh, a twitch of his fingers over your hips, or more precum.

You loved seeing and hearing every reaction, but you didn’t want to wait. You were tense and overheating, and that hard cock in your hand belonged somewhere else.

You moved on your knees to straddle him closer, positioning yourself with nothing but the intention to feel him, but you paused. Before the sight of the pink swollen tip at your entrance could steal your logic, you looked at him with an implied question. He nodded with glistening eyes, hands gripping a bit more of your ass to convey just how much he wanted this. And so you leaned to touch your foreheads before you guided him inside you.

You were unbelievably wet but still, it took a moment for him to become coated enough to slide in without any attrition. It felt like a trial and error; every time you tried sitting lower, there was resistance, and so you raised yourself and tried again. And again and again, with his fingers sinking into your skin as he hid his scrunched-up expression. Your eyebrows were knitted too, especially when he hit a particular spot, and soon he bottomed out.

You wiggled a little to make room, your tension gripping him inside you so hard that both of you groaned. You bucked your hips over him and sighed before reaching back, taking support on his legs. The hunger in his glistening eyes as he observed you taking your pleasure from him was like straight out of a dream, except he was really there, stretching you to the edge, bubbling a tension up your spine so good you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

So you leaned forward again, palming the expanse of his chest as you let the fluttering subside for a bit. A smile bloomed on your lips as he reached to kiss your skin, supporting you closely while he grazed up your neck. Yet as it had blossomed, your smile faded when your eyebrows knitted further and your pleasure sunk in your gut. He had taken a firmer grip of you and used his leverage to thrust his hips up and into you, successfully crumbling whatever excuse of a restraint you had.

You moaned unreservedly and as he pulled away to face you without relenting, you met him with glistening eyes. It wasn’t a betrayal but because of him, you couldn’t hold back. He understood; he told you with a nod as he tried keeping the rhythm steady for you. So you hugged him to you and let the pleasure spike once, twice, until a moan burst out of you with the knot in your lower gut releasing the tension.

However long it lasted, it was long. It left you powerless and radiating heat like a furnace, only he was even hotter than you. He was sweaty under your arms and legs as you embraced him, and it mixed with your wetness and cum, but you didn’t care.

He waited for you to pull away and kiss his humid forehead before he asked, “Can I take you to bed?”

“Yes,” you sighed, still up high in your haze.

He could tell how languid you were so he picked you up carefully, hugging your legs around his waist and supporting your lower back. His heart was racing as he carried you, not because he was afraid of dropping you — no way in hell that would ever happen — but because this was really happening. He was really carrying your naked body across his apartment, your sweaty bodies pressed together after you reached your pleasure in his arms only for him to take you to bed and continue to show you how much he cared for you. He sighted the bed when your limbs squeezed him more firmly and he smiled from ear to ear. It was like carrying a koala bear who didn’t want to let go of him, and he loved that.

He sat on the bed with you on his lap before carefully supporting your back so he could lay you down gently while hovering over you and you finally blinked.

Your senses were coming back; Namjoon was over you, caging you between his biceps while your legs laced around him. He was inside you, and even if you had forgotten, he reminded you when he moved tentatively. Your eyes were set on his, and that was how you saw the concern crossing them, and you blinked again. You and him were connected like you had only ever dreamed, and it was good. You reached to cup his cheeks and guide his mouth to yours; you wanted him to know that. That you knew what you were doing, with whom, and how, and your heart was completely in it.

If he wasn’t kissing your lips, then he was pecking the tip of your nose, grazing your cheeks, or brushing down the column of your neck as his hips gained speed. You raised yours to feel him as deep as possible, and as you held onto him, you let the emotions flood you. The safety of his arms, the completeness as he filled up all the gaps, the nurture of every tender kiss, the shared warmth, tension, and torture of your bodies rocking together. You were meshed inextricably in an ascent that you had never dared to imagine, and you grabbed him even harder, in case the intensity had you floating away.

Your voice had a life of its own; every time he sank further into you, your soul expanded. Every time he buried himself inside you, your moan released into his ear, and over and over again as he hid in your neck, revering you in all the ways he could.

“You feel so good,” he rasped against your throat, and against all odds you heard it in between moans. Maybe because he was slowing down. He pulled away to face you so closely you saw him blurred despite your glasses, “I don't want it to end.”

Your eyes widened and watered but no words came out in time; he pressed your lips sweetly and you buried your fingers in his hair, feeling your heart swelling with every beat. He restarted his hips, guided by your legs pressing him into you, and you thought that nothing else mattered than him knowing. You also didn’t want it to end, you wanted to stay with him forever, linked, safe, accepted, hidden from anything that wasn’t blissful peace, and happiness.

His hips snapping into yours brought groans, moans, and whines out of the both of you, with wet sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom along with the slaps of skins colliding. It became fast, forcing you to wrap your limbs around him firmly to never miss any sensation he could give you until you tensed unbelievably.

You surrendered to your climax immediately, letting it wash over you as you throbbed and reveled in scream-inducing spasms. He grunted and swore into your neck, but to your surprise, he didn’t come with you. On the contrary, suddenly you could feel his intent to pull out so you crossed your legs behind him and searched for his ear so you could tell him, “Inside me. Stay inside me.”

He groaned and you rocked with him, keen on extending both your pleasure as much as possible when he twitched inside you. You closed your eyes and his lips immediately caught yours. He kissed you with every peak, groaning into your mouth at every turn, making you shudder.

He stilled and you kept petting his damp hair at the back of his head, slowly waiting for both your hearts to calm down. You couldn’t believe what just happened yet at the same time it was as natural as breathing.

Finally, he moved from the crook of your neck and faced you. A single drop of sweat dripped along his nose to the tip and you caught it with your fingertip. He nuzzled you then, recovering his breath with a tender smile, and you smiled back.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

Note

hiiii, I'm new here. saw that your reqs r closed but I'd like to share one scenario idea. the choice is yours whether to write it or not.

Daniel (or Carlos) is your bff. You see each other rarely because of his career. It's summer break, he's back home and you've just had your heartbroken by an asshole. You convince you friend group that you need to go out & celebrate Daniel's (or Carlos') comeback in the hope of getting laid. As the night goes on the driver is more n more frustrated with the guys you choose. He get a lil too much to drink n becomes possessive of you, starts touching you intimately and doesn't care about people surrounding. The night ends in a bedroom where he fucks you slow and sensually like he thinks you deserve and none of those jackasses in the club could

hope you've a nice vacation

Peace out ✌🏾

This is for Carlos since Daniel hasn't gotten rid of that moustache yet

Red Flags || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, friends to lovers WC: 2.4k

It hurt a little that the first notification you received that Carlos was back home came from a gossip page you followed. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise when a distance had grown after you started dating Marco, you weren’t sure if Carlos even knew what had happened since the last time you spoke to him. Your families were close, but even your parents were reluctant to speak to anyone about the breach of privacy your ex had caused, the photos he had tried to leak. It had cost a huge sum to keep them from being published and you had been trying to get over the betrayal since.

Recent coping methods included the company of your friends and the string of nightclubs that lined the beachfront.

“I picked up a stray,” Liana called out as she walked into your house without knocking. You could always count on your friend to be up for a party and she had accepted the invite before anyone else. You stuck your head out of the living room where you had been pouring yourself a stiff drink and found her arm curled around the back of Carlos. “A handsome one too.”

You couldn’t believe it had been nearly six months since you last saw him and it looked like he had somehow matured even more. His beard had filled out to cover his entire jaw and his hair was lush and dark.

Excitement filled you and you rushed towards him as he opened his arms with a smile. “Carlito!”

“Bomboncita,” he replied with a laugh, his strong arms tightening around you as he picked you up and twirled in a circle. “Missed you too.”

“Come out with us, let’s celebrate your win!” You didn’t wait for an answer as you rushed back to get your clutch with your ID and cash.

“She just wants to get laid,” Liana whispered to Carlos. “You can help me keep her away from any red flags.”

There was one thing you could always count on and that was Liana to be the mother of the group. More mature than the rest of your friends put together, she always made sure you got home safe. Everyone else lived in the city but the mansion your parents had given you was out on the coast, thankfully she was more than happy to sober drive for you. Unfortunately, the only cars on the driveway were two seater sports cars.

That was how you ended up starting your night sitting on Carlos’ lap.

“This reminds me of old times, bombón,” he murmured as you looped an arm around his neck and held on tight.

“I don’t know how you passed basic maths,” you shot back with a laugh before looking at Liana. “He would always invite more people than we have seats for during the summer break.”

Liana shook her head with a smirk. “Maybe he just liked having you on his lap.”

“What guy wouldn’t,” you joked, well accustomed to the years of teasing over your close friendship with Carlos. But for all the times you sat in this very position, he had never seen you as more than a friend.

“Should we stop her?” Carlos asked, a quiet growl in his words as he watched you dance with another man. Your hips were too enticing, too sexy, and he had to look away to down his drink and quench the sudden thirst he had.

Liana didn’t seem fazed by your ability to hook a man in with a seductive smile and dance with them until Carlos interrupted or they said something that made you push them away.

“No way, she deserves to have some fun after what happened with Marco.”

He placed the empty glass on the bartop and turned his attention to Liana, a frown etched into his forehead. “What happened with Marco?”

“Oh, she should probably be the one to tell you. I thought you knew.”

A woman in a very low cut dress slipped between Liana and Carlos, interrupting their conversation as she placed a hand on his arm. “You’re that driver, right? Want to dance?”

Carlos shook his head with a polite ‘no thanks’ and brushed her hand off his, rubbing the spot on his sleeve to erase the feel of her touch. “What did he do, Lee?”

The tone left no arguing and Liana chewed her lip nervously before giving in and leaning closer so no one overheard.

Rage burned through Carlos in a way he had never felt before. He had felt anger, sure, frustration too, but this was white hot and liquid molten in his veins, deep in his core. He was lucky that Marco wasn’t in the same city or he would surely be finding himself on the wrong side of the law at that moment.

Carlos didn’t even realise he had crossed the room until his fist bunched into the shirt of the man holding you close and he pushed the stranger away, ignoring the protests he made.

“Carlito!” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me.”

Some of the fire eased as your fingers twirled the strands of hair at his nape and his hands came to rest naturally on your hips as he pulled you closer. “We have a lot of catching up to do, bomboncita.”

You looked up as the odd tone cut through your buzz and immediately knew what he knew. His own eyes were a little unfocused and you could smell the whiskey on his breath, not helping him to control his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The air hissed between your teeth as you sucked in a breath and dipped your chin down so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You would have said I told you so.”

His hand slipped away from your body and you missed the heat of it instantly but then it was cradling your throat, his thumb pushing your chin back up and forcing you to connect with his dark irises. “I told you he wasn’t good for you, he wouldn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“Carlito...” It was a familiar argument every time you had a boyfriend. He would always find reasons to dislike them.

“Listen, please, bombón,” he said as he took a step closer so every inch of his body was flush against yours. His lips brushed your cheek as he turned your head away and whispered the secret he had kept all these years. “Let me show you how you should be treated.”

Surprise filled you and you licked your dry lips at the thought of what he was implying. “Here?” you asked breathlessly and his laugh warmed your cheek.

“No, bombón,” he all but purred as he teased the column of your neck with his nose and his hands danced over the curve of your ass. “What I want to do to you…no, not here.”

His eyes narrowed at someone behind you and you turned to see it was someone you had been dancing with earlier. You couldn’t remember his name, or maybe he hadn’t even told you it, either way you had no interest in taking the drink he offered.

“Red flag, mate,” Carlos growled as he pulled you under his arm and put himself between you and the stranger. “Walk away.”

The man wisely walked away and you laughed as you stepped back into Carlos’ arms. He had held you a thousand times over your long friendship but the way he held you now, possessive and jealous, it changed everything. There was no going back to how it used to be.

“I kind of like this new you,” you teased as you danced with him, turning in his arms and rocking your hips in time to the beat. “So commanding, Carlito, why don’t you try it on me?”

His lips cocked up in a smirk that you saw as you peeked over your shoulder and dragged his hands down your body. “Because you’ve never listen to anything I say.”

Turning to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and brushed your lips softly over his before you could change your mind. “Maybe you just never said what I wanted to hear.”

Carlos swallowed as he saw your pupils dilate with lust and the thin material of your dress did little to hide the fact you wore no bra beneath it, your peaked nipples begging him to take them in his mouth. “We need to leave,” he groaned as he squeezed your ass and bit his lip, “before I get us both into a lot of trouble.”

You barely remembered to thank Liana for dropping you off at home. You barely remembered the drive when every ounce of your brain capacity was spent trying to behave yourself while you sat on Carlos’ lap. You tried to keep still on the corners but you felt his hard length beneath you with each turn and squirm.

It seemed to take forever for Liana to finally pull into your driveway and your foot tapped the tile floor impatiently while she drove off and you slapped the button on the wall to close the gates. You didn’t wait to see them close as Carlos’ lips were on yours and his feet led the way blindly through your home.

Your bed was a mess. You hadn’t planned on bringing a stranger back to your place, but Carlos was no stranger, in fact, he knew you better than anyone ever could or would. He smiled knowingly as he laid you down on the sheets, kneeling between your legs as they parted for him.

His shirt had been abandoned somewhere on the stairs, your dress along the hallway, his trousers at the foot of your bed. You had seen him in this state of undress before, when you would sneak out as teenagers and go for midnight swims in the bay, but the moonlight had left the memory faded. In the light of your room, his skin glowed and shadows highlighted the dips of his defined muscles that lined his body. It was like seeing him in colour for the very first time.

“Are you okay, bombón?” he asked as his fingers danced down your legs lightly, tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reached your heels. His thick fingers shouldn’t have been able to remove the delicate clasps so gracefully but he eased each shoe off before massaging the aching soles of your feet. “You look like you are thinking too hard.”

“I am thinking you are going way too slow,” you teased. His thumb hit the right spot in your arch and a moan parted your lips while he chuckled at your reaction.

“I told you, princesa, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Tantilisingly slowly, he massaged his way up your legs, devoting his time to your relaxation until you were putty in his hands. Your legs were trembling in anticipation when his thumbs finally reached the laced edge of your panties and he let out an unsteady breath at the damp patch darkening the material. You lifted your hips for him as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down your legs. “I want to taste you, princesa.”

“Please, Carlos,” you begged as he licked his full lips enticingly.

You recognised the look in his eyes, the one that told you to be patient and the groan that had been building morphed into a gasp when he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his thigh. The pressure was teasing and you rocked your hips wanting more as he blanketed you with his body and sealed his lips around your breast.

“Fuck,” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending bolts of lightning to your core as you tightened your legs around his thigh and combed your fingers into his hair. “Oh god, do that again.”

He was more than happy to follow your command and you felt like your body would ignite beneath him. He sensed the change in your body as your breathing laboured and a sweat broke out across your skin. “Not yet,” he warned as he kissed his way up your neck and captured your lips in a blistering kiss. “I want to taste you when you come, princesa.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you shamelessly rode his thigh, the pressure building. “Then you better hurry up.”

A whimper escaped with the disappearance of his leg but when you opened your eyes you were struck by his dark ones, watching you watch him make his way down your body. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him blow a cold breeze over your skin and you shivered as he warmed it again with his tongue.

“I’m starting to think you get off on teasing me,” you whispered with a strained voice.

“I simply get off on you,” he replied just as quietly.

The questions you had were erased with the leisurely stroke of his tongue, tasting you for the first time. He hummed at the reward he had earned with his teasing and his fingers gripped your thighs tighter as he held you spread open for him to devour.

The room filled with the sweet sounds that clawed from your throat as your head swum and your legs quivered. The salacious song grew louder when Carlos curled one finger into your cunt, then two. He pumped his digits as his tongue circled your clit and together they threw you over the edge and you came with undulating waves that rocked your body against his lips.

“Carlito…” you panted as he lapped at your dripping folds, indulging in the decadence he had been craving for years.

“I love you,” he admitted as he rose above you.

You reached for his face, your thumb tracing the shape of his swollen lips that were still shiny with your arousal. “I love you too.”

“No more red flags,” he said as he lined himself with your entrance. “You’re mine, princesa.”

“I’m yours,” you echoed as you pulled his face to yours and sealed the promise with a kiss.

“You always have been.”

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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astroboots · 8 months

Note

Hmmm ok maybe the three of them going on holiday and making good use of a hotel room and balcony 😉

STRIP POKER

Summary: The trio goes on a beach holiday only to get trapped in their hotel room and you end up playing strip poker.

Rating: Explicit, DP with Frankie's giant cock which needs a warning of itself.

Warning: Writer has no fucking clue about poker (or any card games) and it fucking shows. She did research and friends and family tried to explain it to her but that only confused her more.

Pairing: Frankie x female reader (you) x Santiago

Word Count: 5k

Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

It's raining outside.

A violent smattering of rain so aggressive it sounds like the window panes are getting the beating of its life.

Frankie sighs. $250 a night for a hotel room with a seaside view and it's just fucking pouring down.

He is standing outside on the balcony, still within safe shelter from the rain. Leaning his elbow against the balcony rail, he peers down at the perfect aquamarine water that glitters like a precious gem underneath, out of reach.

It's his first proper holiday from work in years, and he'd thought it'd be nice to splurge a bit. Big king-sized bed. Hotel Spa. Beach access.

It would have been perfect. And at first it seemed to be. Gorgeous sun as far as the eye could see when the plane touched ground on the tarmac. Then it started raining, and it just didn't stop. Torrential -- there's a typhoon warning on the weather forecast that everyone is recommended to stay inside -- kind of rain.

He throws a glance behind his shoulder, back at the hotel room where Santiago is draped across the large king sized bed with a thick novel he picked up from the airport. Santiago is about three quarters in, which means there's an hour, maybe less, before he's finished.

After that there will be nothing to distract the man and it's only a matter of time before Santiago will get restless. God knows what he'll get up to then.

For once, Frankie won't blame him.

Stuck in a small room with nothing but reruns of telemundo and shitty overpriced hotel service club sandwiches to keep everyone distracted. Frankie's pretty sure that he's going to follow suit with a case of cabin fever not long after Santiago.

From the corner of his eyes, he spots you stomp over to the bed where Santiago is lying. He can't hear what you're saying, but you're waving your hands around animatedly. Santiago immediately puts his novel face-down against the mattress, then he shakes his head adamantly at whatever it is you are saying.

Out of the three of you it looks like your patience was the first to snap.

Your arms cross across your chest, feet stomping down in dismay. Then you turn in the direction of the balcony and Santiago is immediately shooting to his feet to preempt you. He outruns you across the room and flings open the balcony door.

"Frank! Tell your wife it's a bad idea!"

Frankie rolls his eyes at the dramatic outburst. Oh it's his wife now that you have a bad idea, is it?

Cocking his head to the side, Frankie looks to you over Santiago's shoulder. "What's a bad idea baby?"

"Let's go out!" You announce. "So what if it's raining? We can go for a quick swim anyhow. It'll still be warm."

Frankie blinks. He casts his eyes over the cascade of rain that has turned the once white sand into grey sludge. Catches sight of the parasols on the beach that has been uprooted by the winds and are flying wildly, a scene straight out of that 'Twister' movie with Helen Hunt he saw as a kid.

There aren't many occasions in your life together that Frankie has ever said no to you. This though might be one of those rare ones.

"Baby," he starts, voice soft as to cajole you. "That's a bad idea."

You throw your hands out in a dramatic gesture as you stalk your way back inside the room. Frankie barely catches the tail end of your sentence but he hears the string of swears to understand the sentiment of it.

Frankie's left with only Santiago for company on the balcony. The man calmly walks up to the end next to him, leaning out against the railing to assess the weather outside.

To Frankie's surprise, Santiago doesn't say anything. Seemingly content with the companionable silence and the sound of rain smattering all around them. There are no bratty complaints about paying hundreds of dollars only to watch rain. No witty snark.

"You're being uncharacteristically well behaved," Frankie says.

Santiago grins. "I've had a lifetime of experience sitting out shitty weather with nothing to do during missions, Frank. At least this time, I don't have to listen to Firefly's snores."

Frankie snorts at the memory.

"There's much worse things in life than having you and Boa cooped up with me in a fancy hotel room."

There's something soft in Santiago's eyes as he says it. A sentimentality in his voice that Frankie has a hard time placing, because he can't quite recall when Santiago has ever used it with him before.

Before Frankie has a chance to recuperate from blanking out and think of something to say back, Santiago is already leaning away from the balcony to step back inside the room towards you.

"Come on sweetheart. Stop being a brat," he says and playfully swats your backside with a gentle tap that makes you jump.

Santiago leans over the desk and opens a drawer to pull out a pack of cards that he cracks open and your eyes light up at the sight of it.

"If you're bored, let's play a game, yeah?"

In his own humble opinion, Frankie's never been particularly good at poker. He's got the poker face part down, but he never had an interest for gambling and the rules of the game never quite made sense to him.

Santiago on the other hand is a master of it. He's the undefeated champion during their military days and he regularly cleaned out everyone's savings on any given night.

As for you. Competitive as you are, as with every game that you've played more than twice -- you got good at it with practice, but the poker face bit of it is something you are still struggling severely with, because it's always written as plain as day on your face if you have a good or bad hand.

So in a game of strip poker, it's a bit surprising that two hours in, Santiago is the one sat in his underwear, while you and Frankie are still fully clothed.

Frankie's down to his t-shirt and briefs, whereas you have only lost your right sock.

In all honesty, Frankie doesn't quite understand it. Because right now you're sitting across Santiago, a grin so wide you are going to end up with muscle soreness in your cheeks. It's a sign the size of a massive billboard on Time Square lit up in neon and flashing lights that the hand you've been dealt with is good as gold. Yet, despite all the clear signs pointing to only one very clear and undeniable conclusion, for some unfathomable reason, Santiago still refuses to fold.

He tips his chin up in challenge towards you. "What you got sweetheart?"

That grin of yours grow impossibly wider as you set down your cards, revealing them one by one on the wooden floor where you're sat.

First a diamond 8. Then a ace of heart. Then an ace of diamond. Santiago's defiant features fall, pearly white teeth sinking into that pouty lip as he watches you put down a club ace. And as you put down the final card: An ace of spade. Santiago groans in defeat.

"You're cheating," he mumbles indignantly. But his fingers are already dragging his sole remaining garment down over his hips to the sound of your cackling laugh.

If Frankie's eyes linger for a little longer than they should at the round ample curve of Santiago's ass, you don't notice over your absolute glee in defeating the man.

You're already hooting with joy as Santiago demands another round, metaphorically kicking the man when he's already down.

"And what exactly are you going to gamble with for the re-match? You're butt fucking naked Santiago!"

"We'll do different stakes," Santiago shoots back.

"Like what?"

"I'll do whatever you say."

It's like a pin drops in the space between you. Your laughter stops.

"Whatever?" you repeat.

There's a glint in your eye that even Frankie can tell is dangerous, and only an idiot (a competitive idiot) would still go ahead when met with that look on your face.

Santiago is seemingly that idiot.

"Whatever," he confirms. "Carte blanch. Nothing's off the table."

The devious smile on your lips doesn't wane for even a second. You take the deck of cards back into your hands and shuffle them.

"You're on."

Tense is an understatement to describe the next half hour that unfolds in the hotel room.

For a game that was meant to be a fun distraction from the rain outside, it's now turned into something else entirely.

Rundown gambling dens by the border of Colombia are less intimidating than what is going on between you and Santiago right now.

"Antique markets every Sunday at 6am for a month," you threaten him. Santiago practically twitches at the scene you're painting. His fingers grip on tighter on his hand of cards.

You grin at the sign of weakness.

"Oh and you're calling Martina about that time you blamed her for stealing booze from your mom but it was really you."

"What?" Santiago pipes up in alarm, with no trace of his trademark coolness that he usually has for these games. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Whatever I say," you remind him. "Those were the terms."

Santiago seethes. Gritting his teeth as he shakes his head and sits back down firmly on the ground. "Sure," he mumbles like a petulant child. "Whatever. Show your hand already."

You scoot closer to Santiago, cards tucked close to your chest with a smile so wide it lights up the whole room with it.

The first card that comes down is a club of 9. The next is a 10 in the same suit.

Frankie can already see the small muscle in Santiago's cut jaw flex before the man drags his hand over it in a tell-tale sign of displeasure that both you and Frankie recognize all too well.

Normally Frankie would say that with that look on your face, Santiago is in a whole world of trouble.

Normally.

The face of Jack is staring up at the three of you from the floor, and before you even put down the final two cards, Santiago and Frankie both already knows that it is going to be a Queen and a King dressed in black club.

You fling down the duo triumphantly and you're already listing out loud every embarrassing act you are going to force Santiago to endure. There are threats of toilet scrubbing. Brunches with Frankie's mom. Attending a taxidermy class with you.

It lasts for several minutes before you lean down to start gathering the cards to put them away.

"Sweetheart, slow down."

Santiago reaches over. His free hand that's not holding the cards, cupping over yours to stop you. There's a slow and almost gentle smile that spreads across his lips.

Then Santiago finally drops the act.

"I haven't shown my cards yet have I?" he says.

From the way that your smile fades. The way the bright light in your eyes dim, you know it too. The bastard played you. Has been playing you this whole evening, right into his conniving and clever hands.

Frankie suspected as much.

After all, Santiago is brilliant at poker. Undefeated for as long as he's known the man.

As good as you may have gotten with practice, there was no way your long and uninterrupted winning streak of this entire evening was from sheer luck. Especially not when Santiago has not shown his hand a single time this evening.

10 of hearts. Jack of Hearts. Queen and King dotted with red hearts above their crown. Then finally an Ace in the shape of hearts.

A royal flush.

"Soooo," Santiago starts with a slow and meaningful drawl as he grins back at you.

"Whatever I say huh?"

Frankie should probably put a stop to this.

Because you look like you're about to kill someone.

You're kneeling on the floor, tucked between Frankie's legs, as Santiago is right behind you, plastered closely to your back.

The man can't resist the urge to tease you, even if it is under imminent threat to his life. Santiago's nimble fingers tuck a loose curl of your hair behind your ear before pressing a kiss to it.

"You're scaring poor Frankie," he tuts. "It's not good manners to stare daggers at a man when you're inches from his cock, sweetheart."

That comment doesn't make you look any less like a murderess to be.

"Frank," Santiago calls out. "Take out your cock."

Frankie sighs as he reaches for his belt to unbuckle. One hand reaches underneath his boxers as he pulls himself out. He doesn't know why he lets either of you constantly rope you into these situations.

God he feels fucking ridiculous.

"Look at how nice and obedient our husband is being," Santiago goads as his hand comes to your jaw, bridging the span of it. Then he gently tilts you downwards to guide your face forward until you're lips are mere inches from Frankie's cock.

As if by instinct, without further instructions, your mouth already parts for him. Just the sight of your glistening tongue makes the entirety of Frank's back tingle.

He can't help it. It's sense memory at this point.

The tip of your tongue darts out, but before you make any physical contact, Santiago stops you.

"Not yet," he says.

His arm curls around the front of your chest, pulling you back again with an expression of pure schadenfreude.

"I'm gonna have to have you ask nicely for it, sweetheart. Ask Frank to let you suck his cock."

Frankie nearly rolls his eyes at Santiago. The man just has to rub it in doesn't he? Insufferable brat.

If he was Santiago, he'd sleep with one eye open tonight.

Still for all his teasing, it could be so much worse. Not to defend Santiago and his idiocy. But in comparison to what you had in mind for the man, Santiago is going more than easy on you. This is mild for the man.

You must know it too, because you don't protest. Barely even hesitate as you gaze up at Frankie, through your thick lashes, dutifully and do as you're told.

"Please can I suck your cock, Francisco?"

Shit.

Excitement pings across his nerves at your words.

This is a ridiculous situation. Frankie shouldn't get turned on.

But he can't help himself. not when he feels the warmth of your breath exhale gently over his cock and the stupid thing immediately stirs into rapt attention.

Your hands reach over, fingers wrapping around his girth. Frankie doesn't even get a chance to savor it before Santiago is already grabbing for your wrists.

Cock-blocker.

"Nuh, uh," Santiago admonishes. "No hands".

You don't fight him on it. Your hands withdraw to your sides and you keep them there obediently, as you lean down the rest of the way, until your soft gorgeous lips press down against Frankie's quickly hardening cock.

Heat spears through his stomach at your touch.

Soft and almost chaste, your lips linger on his cock and it has Frankie immediately swelling to full hardness, until he can feel it twitching against your soft cheek.

Your tongue darts out, the pink tip gliding along a protruding vein as you pamper his cock with your full attention. Lapping, sucking and kissing at the spot with a quiet moan before you finally move along and slip the head of his cock between your lips.

Dizzying pleasure punches through him and for a brief second, even sat on the bed, Frankie thinks he might pass out from the overwhelming sensation. His mind is in the process of drifting and floating out of his body and away from the room. The only thing that still keeps him tethered to consciousness is Santiago's voice. The gentle mocking praise that spills from the man's filthy mouth.

"Isn't our sweet girl good?" Santiago asks him. "Doing such a good job isn't she?"

Frankie wants to say yes. But his tongue is heavy in his mouth, and he's gone dumb with pleasure to the point that he's forgotten how to speak.

In front of him, Santiago is having the time of his life (because of course the bastard is). There is a sly smile on his lips as that clever hand of his palms the small of your back. He traces the length of your spine until his hand disappears under the edge of your panties.

It doesn't take much detective work for Frankie to guess what Santiago is doing to you as you moan keenly around his cock.

"Look at her isn't she so pretty sucking your cock, Frank?"

For all that the man keeps coddling you with his words, cooing and hushing you with a soothing cadence, Santiago doesn't show you much leniency. His hand isn't stopping, even as you whimper and shake from his touch. He doesn't let up.

Even from Frankie's obscured view from the bed, he can see Santiago's fingers working into you. Finding every perfect angle that has tears stinging in the corner of your eyes until they gaze up pleadingly at Frankie with a wet glossy sheen.

Fuck, you're so fucking pretty like this.

"So fucking perfect for us. I think my only criticism is she gets so easily distracted", he teases as your hips cant up to chase his hand, for Santiago to give you more.

All Frankie can manage is a desperate groan in return. His head tilts back as the overwhelming sensation washes over him. Hips canting deeper into your mouth to have more of your lips, your tongue, more of… anything that you are willing to give him.

Your throat protests at the thick intrusion, swallowing in fits around Frankie. You whine, trying to pull back but Santiago is there pushing you forward with another encouraging string of praise.

Frankie can see the man work his fingers deeper into you and your body is wracked in another series of shivers, mouth parting until his cock slip out. You try to cover your mouth with your hand to stop a moan that breaks out, but Santiago's hand immediately shoot out to grab your wrist again to secure it to your side.

"That won't do. Put your pretty mouth back on Frank's big cock sweetheart."

"Santiago," you protest throwing him a menacing glare, a second away from telling him that it's his fault to begin with.

"Whatever I say," Santiago reminds you, parroting your own taunting words from before. "Those were the terms."

You bite your lip with a pout that is all too similar to Santiago.

In moments like this, Frankie is reminded of the closeness of the two of you. How inextricably intertwined you two are having grown up together. Two sides of the same stubborn, competitive coin. And god he loves both of you.

Swallowing your bruised pride, you bend over again, parting your lips to put your mouth back on his cock.

Heat spears through him until his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. The last thing he sees before they do is Santiago's eyes gazing back at him.

Even behind closed eyes Frankie can't get away from it. Santiago's sweet and murmured praises as he talks about how good you are. How pretty you look. In the dark it's easy for the lines to be blurred enough that Frankie isn't entirely sure who Santiago is directing the praise at anymore. And that makes it even better.

When Frankie opens his eyes again, blinking away at the watery edges of his sanity, Santiago is right there.

One hand palming languidly at his own cock as he observes Frankie and you.

He smiles at Frankie, holding the eye contact before he moves to position himself behind you, gripping at your hips. Cock lined up and nudging against the cleft of your ass, taking his sweet fucking time like he's putting on a show for Frankie's benefit to make sure he catches every single detail. Then he pushes forward, into you.

You gasp at the new intrusion, hands flying to Frankie's hips to keep yourself steady as Santiago thrusts forward. The momentum forces your entire body further onto Frankie's cock.

It's a struggle for you to keep your mouth on him and it's a maddening sensation for Frankie. The way your tongue darts out, desperately licking and sucking around the tip of him as best as you can. All the while the man is taunting you with unrestrained glee in his tone.

"It's not too much is it cariño? You can do it. You can take me and Frankie both can't you? Be our good girl, don't stop. Keep going."

And fuck, you don't stop. Your mouth envelops the length of his cock. inch by inch as Frankie watch in delirious fascination as the thick girth disappears between your lips.

You take in so much of him, Frankie has a momentary thought of how you even manage to fit it. Then he feels himself hit the back of your throat.

Christ, Frankie's not particularly religious but he's pretty sure he sees heaven as his cock nudges the back of your throat.

Still you continue, past your limits, eyes watering as you swallow desperately around him.

"Good girl. Such a good fucking girl," Santiago repeats, as he grinds his hips into you.

His hand rests on your back, sweeping your hair to one side until your neck is bare. Then he leans over, his chest pressed along your back and presses a kiss onto your nape.

It's such a sweet gesture, completely at odds with what the man is doing to you in this moment. Then his hips come to a still, an indicator that Santiago is well on his way to implement phase two of whatever devious plan he has for the three of you tonight.

Because Frankie knows Santiago. Better than you know Santiago sometimes, it seems. He knows him well enough that what has transpired so far is just the appetizer for what's to come.

That's just Santiago. Always a step ahead of everyone else. Always an opportunist to the core, his mind is always considering and assessing and re-evaluating the situation for changes.

It's where you lose to him. You get too honed in and narrow minded, your eyes too focused on the prize in front of you. Your mind always too occupied with thoughts of winning the battle while Santiago has his eye on the horizon to emerge victorious from the war.

In front of him, Santiago's hand comes to your cheek cupping you gently as he pulls you off Frankie's cock to your confusion.

"So good for us. You wanna claim your prize hmm?" Santiago murmurs in your ear ominously.

With one arm wrapped around your front, the man lifts you up and guides you to your feet. Then he's maneuvering you onto the bed, arranging you to his liking until you're sat in Frankie's lap.

He curls his fingers around Frankie's cock, like it's a trophy for you to claim and guides Frankie to your slick and waiting entrance, until the blunt tip is nudging against your wet clit.

That clever hand steady at the small of your back, in a steady but firm pace until the entirety of Frankie's cock is fully sheathed inside you.

Fuck.

You feel so fucking good. Warm, slick and so fucking perfect. Frankie thinks he's going to lose his mind with it.

His brain cells are melting with pleasure inside his skull and he can barely pay enough attention with the way you're clutched so tightly around his cock to register that Santiago isn't next to you anymore. He's gone off somewhere, fuck knows where, as Frankie palms the soft curves of your hips to press you firmly down on him, pushing as deep as he goes.

Frankie can't stop long enough to think much else, except for the sweet pace that you're rocking forward on his cock with. He's lost in it. Drunk and inebriated on the way you feel in his arms as he rocks you up and down on his cock that he barely even notices when Santiago's back again.

This time with a bottle of lube in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Of course, that's where the clever bastard went.

"San--" you start, but your voice is cut off at the long drag of Frankie's cock inside of you as he thrusts up again.

Santiago's smile spreads even wider, predatory. "What sweetheart? Don't you want your reward?"

Frankie can hear the click of the bottle, two seconds before he registers the way that Santiago's hand slips between your legs again, and then he fucking feels it. The pressure of Santiago's finger as he presses inside of you, and fuckfuck--shit! It knocks the fucking breath out of Frankie's lungs.

The sound you make is the sweetest fucking thing that Frankie's ever heard. It's needy and desperate. It echoes in his head and he never wants it to stop. Wants to record it so he can replay it a thousand times over.

"You did so well," Santiago says, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. He stills, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

"You won the game tonight. Fair and square. I'm just here to give you your hard-earned prize."

Even though Frankie can't see it, he can feel it. The rigid heat of Santiago's cock nudging at your ass, inches from Frankie's cock.

"This good cariño? You want me inside you too hmm? Tell me how you want it," Santiago demands.

But there's no way you can answer the man coherently.

You're an absolute trembling, shaking mess. Can barely form a word and much less a sentence. You just keep nodding, as you keep moving up and down on Frankie's cock with a stuttering "ye-yes."

And that's not enough for the bastard

"Yes what, sweetheart?" Santiago teases.

You sob, knowing fully well you won't be able to give Santiago what he wants in this state.

But he doesn't ease up. "Try again," he says.

"Both," you try, struggling. The word panting and out of breath. "I want-- f-fuck!" It's such a high pitched sound, you practically sound like a damned squeaky to. "Please, please," you cry, tears brimming in your eyes.

That smug bastard likes that, smiling and humming as he rubs the side of his jaw along the back of your neck, scraping his prickly five o' clock shadow against your soft skin until goose bumps form in its wake.

"Ple--please, San--I want--"

"Greedy girl," Santiago rasps out. He moves back for a brief moment, and you squeak in alarm that he's gonna leave. Instead he thrusts forward and fuck, fuckFUCK!

Shit. Frankie can't breathe.

There are bright sparks in his vision. Blood rushes to his head and for a moment Frankie isn't sure if he's going blind or having a seizure.

It's electrifying, a sweet burn that zips through Frankie's spine.

The blood thrashes and swirls inside his ears. It makes every noise around him distorted, like he's under water and drowning in you.

In the far off distance, he thinks he can hear Santiago groan brokenly against your skin. Whatever bravado was there before is all but gone in his voice now.

You're so fucking tight. He can feel Santiago through you. Can feel the way your perfect cunt is clutching onto every inch of his cock... and Santiago's not even all the way inside yet.

He doesn't know if you can fit more. Everything feels tight and overwrought and so so so much. His brain is so overloaded on sensation, it takes him a second to register that both him and Santiago have stopped moving.

None of you are speaking, and Santiago isn't teasing anymore, seemingly at loss of words now.

Santiago hisses out a breath between gritted teeth. His fingers gripping into your hips until it dents the soft flesh as the man tries to hold on by his literal fingernails.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're so tight. Relax for me okay?"

And you're trying to. Frankie can tell that much. You really are. It's not like you're doing this on purpose. It's real fucking easy for Santiago to ask you to relax when Santiago's never had to try to fit two cocks inside his body.

On top of that, while Frankie's never liked to brag, he's self-aware enough to know his own size and how he's a lot to take.

Frankie's hand comes to the small of your back, stroking it to provide you with comfort in the best way he can manage in the circumstances.

"It's ok baby, it's okay. We got you," Frankie murmurs against your skin.

Behind you, Santiago's eyes are squeezed tightly shut. An expression of bliss and torture all blended together. "I'll go slow," he chokes out. "I always do don't I? Let me open you up and make you feel good,"

His voice has gone sweet and indulgent. There's nothing mocking about it now. Just pure unadulterated fondness.

Whatever game he was playing before has ended now. Frankie knows that all Santiago wants in this moment is for you to feel good.

But you're too out of it to notice Santiago's defeat and your own outright victory.

You crane your head back towards Santiago with an indignant glare, no doubt to start off what will be a round of bickering between you and the man.

And that's the last thing Frankie wants in this moment, for either of you.

And maybe Frankie's an opportunist too. Maybe he's just as bad as Santiago. Because he quickly cups your cheek, guiding you back towards his lips to cut off any words you might have for Santiago.

His other hand, moves down to the front of your stomach, sliding his palm down along the inside of your thighs until his fingers can draw along the wetness of your folds, pressing light circles against your clit.

You try to escape it, oversensitive and overstimulated. You try to press back only to be met by Santiago's firm chest caging you in, pushing you forward and back into Frankie hand.

You shake and spasm in between them. Tears brimming in the wet sheen of your eyes.

Frankie's barely done anything to you and, god you're already close somehow.

He can feel it. The rise in the pace of your breathing, the thrum of your heart beating against your chest like your very heart is trying to escape from your ribcage as your impending climax builds and builds and builds from within you.

You come with a defeated whimper into his mouth. To Santiago's rasped groan in your ear and Frankie's low moan into your mouth. Your orgasm cascades over you as you shiver in his arms and squeeze tightly around them both.

Everything is a pleasant buzz thrumming in his veins as he can sense how all of you are unwinding. Your body melting in his arms, pressed between him and Santiago as you are.

They let you recover. Let you calm down. The only movement between them, is Santiago lips dragging against your hairline fondly as if to console you.

"That good baby? Think you ready for us now?" Frankie asks.

You're still swimming in the afterwaves of your pleasure, but you nod drowsily in reply.

Santiago continues to press open mouth kisses against your cheek and jaw, before he moves back to give you space.

You whine, a little bit panicked at the sudden movement. Your hand clings onto Santiago's wrist and the man immediately stills for you.

"Stay," you plead.

"Not going anywhere sweetheart," Santiago says, there's no hint of teasing this time. No lingering bluster of pride or a need to one up you.

"I'm staying right here."

It's soft and loving.

The very same tone in his voice he held when he was gazing out at the rain on the balcony.

Frankie had a hard time placing it when he heard it the first time, but he recognizes it for what it is now.

Contentment... It's a tone so foreign on Santiago but it suits him so well. If he can, then for the rest of his life Frankie wants to make sure the man gets to keep it.

Raising one hand to the back of Santiago's neck, Frankie cups his hand over the old-worn surgery scar as he reels the man closer and seals his mouth over Santiago's.

His lips are soft and pliant against Frankie's own. Then his mouth parts with a sweet little hum that sounds all too similar to the gorgeous whines you've been making all evening.

Outside the rain doesn't stop. It rains for the whole of that week.

But Santiago was right. There are worse things in the world than being cooped up in a room with the two people you love the most.

I don’t have a tag list. 😅 Please follow astroboot-writes and turn on notifications for writing updates! 🥰

Author's note: We're baaaaaaaack! I know it's been a hot minute since we got some proper porn with these three! It's also the first time in months I've written proper porn so I may be rusty. Thank you for your patience everyone while I was off lusting for tall spidermen.

#pedro pascal #oscar isaac #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader x frankie morales

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