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#original fic: the final girls
ddagent · 1 year
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henry/jason + forgiveness
Henry/Jason | The Final Girls | Angst | FR15 | 907 words Jason knows he will never be forgiven but, Lord, wishes he was. (References to genre typical horror) FCs: Jason McCallister (David Tennant, Henry Reid (Michael Sheen), Bernie Doyle (Constance Zimmer)
Jason McCallister learnt everything he knew about forgiveness from his father. A cold, Scottish Protestant minister, he would offer forgiveness to his flock but only those who deserved it, earned it. Late at night, his thoughts lingered on the weeks after Ben’s disappearance – the cold earth under his footsteps as he searched, the placating hand on Missus McDonald’s shoulder as Reverend McCallister uttered the words maybe it’s for the best. Jason screaming at his father to do something as an empty casket was buried instead; the sleek red bicycle sold off to someone in the town over.
As night slipped further into morning, Jason’s thoughts – as they often did – turned towards Henry.
There were three versions of Henry, inside his head. There was author Henry – back in the UK, back then, Jason had read all his books. Devoured mysteries with answers; crimes that were solved. He’d attended a few panels and book signings and had once lobbied to interview him with no luck at all. That interview would come later, with murderer Henry. Shackles around his wrists, a haunted look in his eyes. He had been sweet and charming and…lovely but Jason had seen through the act that was not an act at all. Branded him monster – all for the best. Then there was his Henry. This Henry. Still charming and delightful but there was a bite that wasn’t there before.  It left Jason wanting, coveting.
Covetousness is idolatry.
Lying in bed, Jason indulged in worship. Rather than scrolling through whatever new hook-up app Nico, his producer, had put on his phone, Jason took to Henry’s Instagram. Private settings but he was a friend, now. Allowed in the inner circle of private snapshots of Henry in his home in Venice, of perusing second-hand book shops. Henry had been arrested for his wife Marlene’s murder in 2004. No real social media back then but there had been two strained photoshoots of Henry and his new stepchildren. They didn’t have the ease of Henry and the Doyles. Bernie and her girls: shots of Dani’s vegetable garden and badly applied stage make-up for Ash’s new short film. Henry with his arm around Bernie – law partners, the best and oldest of friends.
She was forgiven.But not Jason. Never Jason.
His phone sprung to life. Henry, as if summoned by Jason’s prayers. He slid the accept call button across the screen. “Hen,” he began, as if he hadn’t spent the last half hour stalking him through social media. “This is late.”
“Put on Lifetime.”
Jason followed as instructed and immediately groaned. Written to Kill was a truly shocking ninety minutes dramatizing the events of Henry’s arrest and trial, with the last act focusing on the events of their short acquaintance. In the movie, Jason was played by some brash American doing a dreadful English accent (never mind that Jason, himself was Scottish), who conspired to gain a murderer’s trust by flattery and deception. The film was five minutes from the end; the journalist was outlining everything his subject had done wrong – every truth he’d failed to conceal, every previous lie he’d unpicked. The actor playing Henry stared, eyes glinting, as the question of whether he really killed his wife was finally revealed.
But I thought we were—
Whatever the end to that sentence was, Jason would never hear it. He would never be forgiven; never be absolved. And why should he? He saw an innocent man and, with his father’s hand upon his shoulder, condemned him in print and publication. Maybe it’s for the best. God, fuck, why were they even watching this? Did Henry want to torture him? What was next: deliver a copy of his article to his office every day? But he deserved it. You deserve worse, you deserve worse, you deserve so much worse—
“—shame it’s at the end; thought we could have a good laugh at it. Utterly ridiculous. They’re missing out half the real story as well.” That was Jason’s fault. The omissions in his article. Fourteen weeks instead of seven; letters exchanged in between visits. Bribes spent removing Henry’s chains so he could touch and be touched. Of course, you thought we were; so did I. “Maybe we could rent it, or something? Watch it together. Laugh at them. Just wait twenty years – you’ll be friends.”
“We-we are?”
A pause. Then: “Of course we are. I, well, I thought we were.”
“Yes, yes, absolutely, Hen. We’re friends. We’re friends.”
Four months ago, Jason had been on the hunt for a missing boy. A case that had consumed him: he’d gone to Bernie and her…associates for help. It’s what they did: find people, help people, save people. It came at a cost; all third act victories did. As Jason nursed a concussion and Henry his broken ribs, Bernie had passed him a drink. Two fingers of whiskey. He’d stared, unable to reconcile the DA that had hugged Marlene’s children close as Henry had been sentenced to life in prison and the woman that had pushed him out the way of a speeding van. There was DA Bernie and final girl Bernie and countless versions in between. He just stared and asked: Does it ever bother you? What we did to him?
After a moment, she nodded. I can’t go into that courtroom. But he can – and has. If Henry has taught me one thing, it is the enviable and unyielding power of forgiveness.
Amen.  
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misclogarts · 7 months
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flowers bloom in secret - a harumiyu playlist
alt versions under cut
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relic-seeker · 4 months
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chapter 16; "for i am the new husband and i am the comrade" / "the long-dwelling companionship ends"
this is essentially THE pinnacle of this fic. if you like lemm & quirrel finding home within each other, you will only now certainly be satisfied with this whole story! thank you everyone for following this for a while, means a bunch
story will continue with a brief navigation of their whole situation afterwards -- after all, i can't spend 80k words building up this relationship only for nothing to actually happen to it afterwards!!!
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singsweetmelodies · 7 months
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watching the alpines qualify dead last... my immediate thought was "oh it's going to be sympathy kisses+ for Pierre all season long in the your lips, my lips (apocalypse) universe" 💀
oh my gosh, HI 🤭😍 well this ask made me grin far too fondly down at my phone screen... it just means SO much that people are still thinking of this fic universe even though it hasn't been updated in forever. 🥺 i am really SO touched!
and i also agree COMPLETELY! sympathy kisses all night long, for sure... perhaps even a sympathy blowjob or two... or even (since charles has once again reminded us that he's not sensitive to bottoming) a sympathy fuck 😏 but whatever the case might be, you can bet your ass that they'll definitely be in each other's beds in the 2023 kisses fic 'verse <3333 😘
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clenastia · 11 months
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Chapters: 19/? Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character Characters: Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: warning: author's bad attempts at romance, aro-ace author tries her hand at romance, and also a specific warning for, male character reincarnated as female, since i know not everyone reads author notes, and that's my biggest potential trigger-tag i think, Unbeta'd, Not Beta Read Summary:
In which some people learn the truth, some people think they learn the truth, and Raven sighs like a tired old grandpa at every shenanigan he has to put up with. (blythe ABSOLUTELY lost most of his spending money playing rigged fair games, RIP)
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avemstella · 11 months
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Happy Halloween!
Fun fact I meant to draw this with my Harbinger girls last Halloween, but I totally forgot until after it was too late lol.
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the73rdpostscript · 2 years
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Seven sentences game! I was tagged by @aphroditestummyrolls Thank you friend 💛
(Im gonna break the singular rule of this game and post more than 7 sentences 👀)
They're greeted by the barrels of Nile and Andy's guns.
"Joe? Nicky?" Andy lowers her weapon immediately, but her shoulders stay tight and her question is terse. "What are you doing here?"
"Booker called."
"What do you mean Booker called?" The tension in Nile’s voice surprises Joe. She so rarely sounds this angry at any of them if she's not arguing with Andy.
Nicky exchanges a glance with Joe as he explains, "Booker said you needed us."
"Booker couldn't have said anything," Andy snaps, her voice sounding cold. "He's dead."
Dun dun DUUUUUUUUNNNN! :o
This was very fun but its far too late at night for my brain to do much more so I'm just tagging anyone who wants to do this.
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babygirlgiles · 2 years
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📓
Omg thank you for the ask and the opportunity to rant about my all time favorite daydream fic!
I have been daydreaming about this one forever, it's gone through so many iterations and morphed so much since the first time the idea "omg but what if Willow and Tara had a gay little farm" popped into my head, but it still is The Gay Little Farm fic in my mind until I hopefully come up with a better title lol.
The Gay Little Farm is a gothic horror-y story set in a canon-divergent AU where Willow doesn't go back to Sunnydale after season 6. The fic itself is set several years down the line, after Sunnydale has been destroyed, when-- after spending some time learning more about herself through traveling, living with various covens, going to community college in San Francisco, and eventually getting a degree in computer science and working for a robotics lab-- Willow has recently bought a small farm in New England (I was missing Massachusetts when the idea was first conceived, don't judge lmao. Plus you can't really beat the ambient horror vibes of rural New England).
By the time the fic starts, Giles is the only one of the group that still talks to her. Buffy and Xander were pretty pissed about her decision to not come back, but Giles supported it ultimately because he felt all her emotions in Grave, so he understands the depths of her anguish and understands that she really doesn't know herself anymore, and supports her trying to figure out who she is on her own terms. (Also, he supports her because I asked the very essential question: "what if the btvs writers had decided to leverage how similar Willow's trajectory is to Giles's backstory even the teeniest tiniest bit?" lmao).
Throughout this time, they've emailed each other extensively, like nearly every day, but when Willow's emails start to become less and less frequent after buying the farm, Giles doesn't really think much of it; he knows she's busy trying to get everything set up to be an operational growing season, and that she doesn't have an internet connection at her new house yet so she has to go into town to email him.
It's explicable, so he doesn't worry about it until one day he gets several increasingly bizarre, almost unintelligible, concerning emails in very quick succession.
(lol I'm gonna put a read more because this got long lol. But if anyone else wants to send me one of these ask games : Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.)
She doesn't reply to any of his emails, doesn't answer the phone so he gets on the first flight across the Atlantic to go check on her (it's partly panic, but partly because he's not really pleased with where his life is at the moment anyway, but I won't get into that, this is already getting too long lol, just let it suffice to say he's glad for the excuse to just pack off to somewhere else suddenly). But when Giles gets there, Willow seems perfectly fine. She says she doesn't even have any clue what he's talking about when he tries to bring up the emails, and he figures she must just be embarrassed or something and not want to talk about it, so he drops it.
He decides to stay at the farm for a bit to keep an eye on her and make sure she's okay, but the longer he's there, the more and more weird things start happening. Even as he falls into the rhythms of life on her little farm and gets comfortable there, he can't shake the feeling that something is very wrong. He's having bizarre dreams that are becoming increasingly prophetic, even though there's absolutely no way he should be having prophetic dreams. He starts remembering things-- or at least they feel like memories, but they're certainly not things that ever happened to him. One night, he catches Willow in the middle of what looks like a blood magic ritual, but when he stops her, it's like she wakes up from sleepwalking and has absolutely no recollection of what happened. He's suspicious of Willow and what she might be doing, but also increasingly convinced the house is working some kind of dark magic on them both, so he sets out to research the place. But the nearby town clerk's office, the town's historical society, everywhere he can think to check has absolutely no record of this house existing.
Anyway, I won't spoil what is actually going on with the house because I am for real going to write this (I sort of started a while ago, but as I watched more of the show, my plot and ideas changed SO much). But really, at its core, everything that's going on with the house is about processing their grief, about building a life, about them repairing their relationships, and about the two of them having to come together to do all that by working together to figure out what's going on (although, Willow already suspects what's going on long before Giles even arrives, she just doesn't want to accept it...). The whole story is just like, what if Willow and Giles reconnected in adulthood and finally worked through some of their immense baggage about each other but also just their baggage in general? :) And also there was a farm. :)
#myfic#thank you so much for sending this i had so much fun answering!! love to share my stories about my little guys#once i finish the current big fic im working on#this is the next one i want to write so. keep an eye out.#literally i was actually so so close to entirely abandoning the idea about willow having a farm.#bc originally it was a willow and tara have a farm together and then giles comes to stay on the gay little farm with them :)#i literally probably thought of that watching s4 and then i remembered that tara was going to die and i was like :) idc :) farm :)#but I think the further i got the more like... idk it just didnt really feel genuine to the spirit of the farm and what i wanted to tell#for her to just be inexplicably alive? it just wasnt the story i wanted to tell#so then i was like okay :) Tara's spirit is on the farm :) and then Giles and Willow bring her back to life :)#and then I watched s6 and was like WOW. So apparently !! being resurrected !! fucking SUCKS!!!!!!!#and like. i couldn't do that to my girl I just COULDNT!!#and then i was thinking about it more the timeline made no sense it was like why is willow on this farm why is she on the farm alone#and by this point i had like. a considerable amount of Giles coming to visit her on the farm written lmao#but even tho i was like these are all good scenes and good writing like WHAT is the context WHAT is going on#and apparently backpacking is the best time to have fic ideas ever#bc i remember the exact moment where it came to me like a fucking epiphany just. oh. its canon divergent. its an s7 au.#i was out in the hammock watching the moon and scrambled back into the tent to get my notebook (almost woke my friend up in the process)#and was like frantically scribbling down how it all finally came together by moonlight in the hammock#so im glad i didn't abandon the idea and let it keep puttering around until the hammock worked its magic#I’ll also add. there’s an accompanying playlist. that I play while I daydream about it lmao.
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forestmossling · 4 months
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me: oh my god i’m literally such an awful writer, none (zero!) of all the fics i’ve ever written are finished, i lose motivation the moment i start writing a story that’s longer than 4000 words, i’m so pathetic and cringe
also me: *sits down for two hours and writes an entire plot for the most ingenious unhinged hannibal-esque theatre sketch, definitely going over the 3 minute limit requirement, just for a homework assigned at a theatre studio i attend in my free time*
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ddagent · 2 years
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“Revelations”
Robert/Devon + Bernie/Sam | The Final Girls | Family/Angst | FR18 | 2,566 words The worst has happened. Robert’s daughter is the star of her very own third-act horror.  (References to genre typical horror) FCs: Clancy Brown (Robert), Jamie Lee Curtis (Evelyn), Debrah Farentino (Devon), Adam Arkin (Martin), Chi McBride (Detective Earl Stone)
Los Angeles, Late May 1993
“Excuse me, I’m Detective Stone with the LAPD. I’d like to talk to you about your daughter.”
Robert MacAvoy looked up from where he had been staring at his clasped hands to face the detective in front of him. He was tall; the charcoal grey pinstripes of his suit stretching over his rotund frame. An unlit cigar rested in his jacket pocket and Robert felt like he was in an old black and white picture; some beautiful dame going to swing into frame any second. But they were in a shitty waiting room, with hard plastic seats digging into thighs, and an overwhelming sense of tragedy clinging to the air.
He glanced over at Evelyn, her new husband of less than a year holding her close. “By all means. How can we help you, Detective?”
“I just have a few questions. When was the last time you saw your daughter today before picking her up outside the Hammond residence?”
“Around six, I guess. She was heading off to prom.” It was the most normal thing Bee had done all year. Got dressed in a gown her mother had helped pick out; all her girlfriends helping with make-up and nails and accessories. Robert had stood, watching, as Evelyn took a multitude of pictures of Bee and her boyfriend, Jason. “They’d rented a limo.”
Detective Stone nodded. “Do you know what time she arrived?”
“I–I don’t, Detective; I’m sorry. Look, what is this about? We know there was an…incident at the school, and later at the after-party.” Beside him, Devon scoffed. Robert threw her a look. “Do you have an idea of how many victims yet, Detective?”
“Seven.”
The noise in Robert’s ears grew louder, punctuated only by the feeling of Devon’s nails pressing into his thigh. That school was fucking cursed. Nineteen years ago, he’d reluctantly gone on the senior class trip with his brother, his next-door neighbour Evelyn, and half the senior class – including Devon Hedley, head cheerleader and all-around queen bee. By the end of their third day, thirteen of their classmates would be dead, including Evelyn and Devon’s boyfriends and Robert’s own brother. He and Evelyn had hoped that their little girl wouldn’t go through the same thing that they did. No murder, no blood, no trauma. No dead bodies of their classmates littering the halls. 
Everything they had done to protect Bee had been for nothing.
“We have the seniors arriving at the Hammond residence just after eleven. By this point, three of their classmates were already dead.” Devon’s nails drew blood. Rob lifted her hand and clasped it within his own; his nails, painted black, pressed against her fingertips. “It was close to one am when one of the seniors, Joanna Hayes, made the 911 call. She reported that there were four dead, three injured, and that the killer was unconscious in the living room.”
Across from him, Evelyn let out a sob. Rob fought the instinctive urge to go to her, hold her in his arms and whisper soothing platitudes until she sagged against him. But that hadn’t been his place for years. It was Martin that she turned to, now. Not Rob. Still, at least he could bring this interview to a close. “Listen, Detective, I appreciate you trying to put together a timeline but I don’t understand how we can help.”
Martin piped up from across the waiting room. “We really do want to assist you in your inquiries, Detective, but there is a deep family history that you have to take into consideration. We understand that Bernadette witnessed her classmate committing these foul acts, but anything more you will have to ask her. Not my wife.”
“It’s about what happened before the 911 call. Michael Lynch was knocked unconscious by what Joanna Hayes described as ‘a college guy’.” It was at this point that Robert noticed that Detective Stone’s eyes had grown hard. “We now know that stranger to be Randall James. My question is: why the hell did she stay with him?”
Robert looked across at Evelyn, who simply shrugged. Neither of them had heard the name Randall James before. Bee certainly hadn’t mentioned him. Not that she’d talked to them much in the last year. All the books said the same thing: a parent remarrying after divorce caused behavioural issues. Factor in Last Known Survivor’s first tour and Bee spending the summer with her grandmother, and Rob had come back to the world’s worst teenager. Underage drinking, sleeping with her boyfriend in the house, that incident with Pastor Whitman’s daughter…he didn’t recognise Bee anymore. None of them did. And he certainly didn’t recognise the name Randall James.
But Devon did. “Oh my god.” 
“Dev?” But she wasn’t looking at him. “Hedley? What is it?” 
“We were out of LA when it happened. I was desperate to get out; it was on the front page of all the papers. You couldn’t move without seeing it. The Canyon Killer.” Devon drew in a shaky breath. “Was Bee—” 
She couldn’t even finish that thought. Detective Stone could barely start his. He looked as surprised as them all. “She never told you?”
Before they could plague Stone with questions, Evelyn’s mother crowed across the waiting room. She ignored Stone and immediately gathered Evelyn up into her arms, crying platitudes and shouting about tragedies and more dead teenagers and at least they caught this one. Robert had very little patience for Rose Doyle on a normal day. She had never liked him when they were neighbours – she’d liked him less when he and Evelyn had fallen into bed together and she’d fallen pregnant with Bee. But right now, his patience was wafer-thin. Last summer, Bee had stayed with Rose.
“What happened to Bee last summer, Rose?”
His former mother-in-law, interrupted from reassuring the son-in-law she’d always wanted, twisted her head in his direction. It was then that she took in the frame of Detective Stone. His expression, too, lacked patience. “Missus Doyle, you said you would inform Bernadette’s parents of what happened.”
Robert rose to his feet. “What happened to Bee last summer, Rose?”
“I was her guardian last summer, it was my discretion not to inform them,” Rose offered to Stone, before turning to her daughter. “You’d just got married; you were on your honeymoon. I didn’t want to ruin all that because your daughter went out for a run.” 
Robert closed the distance between them. He pulled Rose out of his daughter’s orbit and yanked her under the harsh overhead lighting of the hospital waiting room. “What happened to my child, Rose? And you better give me an answer or so help me God, I will get them one way or another.” 
“She got hurt,” Rose finally admitted. “You both had said she was not allowed to go out running with all that…murder business going on, but she didn’t listen. Gets that from her father.” Robert bristled. “She encountered the two brothers who had murdered all those poor girls and got…hurt.” 
“Stabbed,” Detective Stone spat. “Your granddaughter was stabbed twice, in the stomach, after they tried to rape her.” He shook his head. “Kid’s lucky to be alive.”
Robert’s world spun. This couldn’t be right. Stone was confused. There was no way that his little girl had been stabbed. No possibility that she had been impaled and left, bleeding – like David, like David, like David – no, Stone was wrong. She had just been a little scraped. Like today: scrapes, bruises. But as much as Robert wanted to believe it was all a lie, he knew it was the truth. His little girl had been hurt and he’d been away. He’d failed her; he’d failed her.
“I told her she needed to keep it to herself. That she wasn’t to tell you, or any of her friends. Evelyn, I meant it with the best of intentions. Look at how you are now. After what happened to all of you, you were a mess. And you’ve done so much to protect Bee over the years, to keep her safe. And what does she do? She completely disregards your instructions and goes running. I told Bee it was her own damn fault what happened to her.”
“You’re a monster.”
Rose’s lips curled in a snarl as she addressed Devon. “Forgive me for not wanting my daughter to throw her life away like you. My daughter is a high school vice-principal. You, Devon Hedley, are a guitarist in a mediocre rock band, obsessed with traumas of the past. There is a reason why your parents moved out of Los Angeles, Ms Hedley. The congressman couldn’t take the shame.” 
“Fuck you.” 
The waiting room exploded into an uproar. It was Martin who tried to calm the situation. “Devon, I know you’re Robert’s friend, but I think maybe you should leave. It should just be family.” 
Robert made to intervene, but Devon pressed a hand firm against his chest, pushing him backwards. She’d never needed him to fight her battles. He knew better than to start now. “I’m not leaving this hospital until I know Bee is okay. I’m not leaving her to be yelled at for getting stabbed.”
“You’re not family, Devon, okay? No matter what you might think, she’s not your daughter.”
Devon scoffed. “No, she’s not. If Bee was mine, I never would have left her to get stabbed in the first place.”
It was then that Devon took off, her boots stomping against the linoleum floor. After a beat, Evelyn turned harshly towards Robert, eyes rimmed red with unshed grief and guilt. “I have no idea why you ever got yourself involved with Devon ‘Gives Great Head’ Hedley, Rob, but I think it’s for the best that she stays away from our family right now.”
“Funny. I was about to say the same thing about your mother.” He ran a hand through his dark blonde curls, his chest tight with his own guilt. “I need some air, Evie. I’ll be back.”
Leaving Evelyn and her family behind, Robert went in search of his own. He found Devon outside, dragging on a cigarette. Her dark hair fell over a threadbare t-shirt; her ratty jeans proudly displaying a rip over both knees. Devon Hedley was the sexiest bass player in the industry but right now she was eighteen years old, on her senior class trip, hand pressed against her shoulder and hearing the thunk of the axe as it connected against bone. Robert didn’t say anything. Just pulled off his jacket and eased it around her shoulders. Her fingers offered him the cigarette and he took it. As they watched an ambulance pull into the unloading bay, Devon’s head fell upon his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right. I never should have left her.”
“The only people who have anything to feel guilt over, Rob, are the two men that stabbed our girl – and your ex-mother-in-law, who is so much more of a piece of work than I remember.” Devon took back the cigarette, took a long, deep puff, before stamping it out with the toe of her boot. She then pulled in close, cupping his face in her hands. Her thumb ran along the blonde stubble covering his jaw. “You are not to blame for this, Rob. Neither is Bee.”
He nodded, leaning down to rest his forehead against Devon’s. “What the hell do we do now, Hedley? What the hell do we even say?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. What she’s been through…how do you come back from that?”
“You did.”
Devon snorted. “I’m a thirty-seven-year-old bass player. I dropped out of law school. Didn’t take the bar. I’m not married. No children. I’m not exactly the best role model.” She pulled away, drawing Robert’s jacket closer around her shoulders. “Maybe it is best I step back. She’s not my daughter. She’s not even my goddaughter. I’m not your—I’m not your wife, Rob. I’m just your friend.”
“Best friend.” He reeled her back in, leaving a kiss atop her forehead. “After the divorce, you were the only thing that kept me sane, Hedley. The only thing that made me feel normal after everything that happened. Losing David, witnessing so much death. Never finding the son of a bitch who did it. I can’t do this without you.”
Devon didn’t reply; just pressed herself closer to Robert’s frame. He carded his fingers through her hair, finding solace at holding her close and whispering soothing stories from how she had supported him all these years and would continue through this next crisis. It was then that Robert was struck with a realisation. Bee didn’t have anyone. Jason, her boyfriend, was dead. Her best friend, Wendy, had never made it to the Hammond residence. Everyone else would be reeling from this tragedy, this loss. No one would be there to help Bee pick up the pieces from the previous summer.
“—and then I spotted him at the subway station so I pushed him down the stairs. I didn’t show any remorse when the police talked to me, so that’s why my Aunt Mei brought us out here. Fresh start; away from bad influences.”
Voices carried over the empty unloading bay; two teenage girls sitting on a brick wall passing a soda can back and forth. The girl talking was wearing a t-shirt with the glove of Freddy Krueger. Robert’s daughter was in her torn prom dress, laughing with a split lip as she took a sip of coke.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
The girl, who Rob vaguely thought to be one of Mei Wen’s nieces from across the street, jostled Bee’s shoulder. “What? He murdered my parents; the least I could do is shove him down a flight of cement stairs. What about you, Laurie Strode? Stabbing that guy with his own knife? Fucking incredible; final girl of the year – five stars.” 
“You’re such a weirdo.”
“And you need to embrace it, Bernie. You’re a final girl, just like me. Prepare for Canyon Killer Part III, though; they always come back for more sequels.” The girl, Samantha, drained the soda can. “But you’ll have me next time, too, so it won’t be as bad. Because we’re friends now.” She paused for breath. “Right?”
Bee grinned – the first time Rob had seen his daughter smile in a year – and rested her head on the girl’s shoulder. “Right.”
“Don’t look now but the Kurgan from Highlander is staring at us.”
“You’ve seen Highlander but you haven’t seen Aliens? Terminator 2: Judgement Day?” Staring across the unloading bay, Bee offered a wave. “And that’s my Dad.”
Leaving another kiss to Devon’s temple, the pair picked their way across to where Bee and Samantha sat. Devon offered his jacket to Bee; his daughter’s new friend rabbited on about final girls and legacies and senior trips and Robert tuned it all out. In a single look, Bee realised he knew. She sat and waited for judgement. Judgement that would never come. Robert offered his daughter his hand and pulled her into a crushing embrace. Any tears that fell were Robert’s own. There was an illusion of safety in his arms; nothing could hurt her while she was with him.
But that had never been true. And this moment, he realised, would not last forever.
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yoongifis · 2 months
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💌 switching positions | myg
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where the boy that you’ve got wrapped around your finger works his hardest to change his position from a somewhat friends-with-benefit to an official relationship with you. [and hes not the only one who will be switching positions ;)] *if you haven’t read ‘fxck a fxckboy’ yet, i suggest to read it before reading this! or don’t :p do as you wish!*
pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi
; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, handjobs breastplay, usage of sex toys, masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi
; genre: smut (18+), pwp
; wc: 11k (hooooly sheeeeiiit)
a/n: SHES FINALLY HERE AAAAHH!! a little continuation of fuckboy yoongi~ hehe! very very sorry it took me so long! i had this in the drafts for a while and was slowly building it throughout the year :v now i've gotten busy bc your girl got into nursing school :') don't get me wrong though, i'll do my best to put out some writings here and there bc i do enjoy doing this :p i also wanna say thank you so much for showing so much love to the original 'fxck a fxckboy' fic!! i didn't expect it to gain that much attention, so i was pretty hyped to see a lot of people enjoying it :D i really hope you guys enjoy this one <3 it's just a little somethin' to fulfill your fuckboy yoongi needs hehehe. fair warning though, this is literally pure smut with no sort of plot (call me a horny mofo lmfaoooo). please ignore my grammatical errors :') i'll fix them at some point when i am notttt lazy ! :p
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“Yoongi, could you quit it? I’m trying to help you study for your exam!”
The two of you were in one of your university library’s study rooms—which included a whiteboard, a table, and a couple of chairs in a somewhat small amount of space. Out of all the seats that were around the table and the free space this room has to offer, he chose to stand right behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as his head rests on the back of your shoulder as you wrote things on the whiteboard. 
He’s groaning out of boredom. 
“But isn’t this supposed to be a date?”
You snort with a chuckle, “yeah—a study date.”
You went a couple more rounds on the day you first slept with each other (and damn did he go crazy). After that, you told him you didn’t want to fuck him without being “official” because it felt like you were one of his little flings. He respected that, and really held himself back (although he does manage to sneak some kisses from you here and there to get his daily dose of you). He became eager to get you to be his girlfriend, but like you said you wanted to go on dates before you can agree.
And that’s what he did.
He’s been making everything into a date. And so far, he’s taken you on plenty.
Work on assignments together at the school library? (study) Date. 
Drive around town, enjoying the views as you guys talked? (car-ride) Date.
Watch a movie at his place with all the snacks he bought just for you? (movie night) Date. 
How about the two of you make dinner together? (cooking) Date.
It was cute. Something you’d never expected from him. Did he always have this romantic, sweet, and cheesy side to him? You could tell he is trying to keep his promise—take you on a bunch of dates till you agree to be his girlfriend. It may seem a bit too much, but due to his past history you wanted to make him wait and work hard for the ‘boyfriend title’—which he was willing to do. 
“Still a date,” he mumbles.
Yoongi’s squeezing you tightly, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, lips just slightly brushing against your skin. 
“Yoongi, you’ve got to study. They’re not going to let you graduate if you don’t pass this class. This is what you get for always skipping.”
“I just don’t understand that calculus shit. And I can’t study when you’re around.”
“You don’t even like it when I’m not around—but it somehow has to be me that has to help you with studying.”
“Exactly.”
You’re chuckling again at how cute he was. How is it that he was one of the biggest fuckboys at your school and now he’s the biggest simp for you?
“How about we make a deal?”
He hums, “I’m listening.”
“Pass the class and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
His head shoots up. “Whatever I want?” He repeats.
“And I’ll stop your suffering and agree to be your girlfriend.”
It’s like a whole switch went off in his body; he was ready to get going.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, princess,” he’s removing his hold around you, finally taking a seat with a pencil in his hand and a paper in front of him as he looks at you, “if that’s all it’s going to take for me to be your boyfriend, I’ll do it.”
Of course, Yoongi left himself with only two days to study for his final exam. It may seem like not enough time, but one thing you learned about him is that he can get really determined to do something especially if he gets some type of reward from you. 
He surprisingly locked himself in his room (according to Hoseok), and was trying to do things on his own. He also did not contact you at all that day—making that day the first time the two of you haven’t hung out or contacted each other since the day you both had that little confession session.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were honestly missing Yoongi despite it only being a day. You’ve gotten so used to having him constantly around you that him not being right next to you felt so off. 
These feelings must’ve been bothering you so much because now you’re at the front door of his apartment with an early dinner of take-out in your hand, waiting for Hoseok to open the door.
“He’s still in his room—the doors unlocked this time which is new. I would have loved to join you guys but I promised to go out with the other boys,” he pauses. “…I did ask Yoongi to join me but he told me to ‘get lost’, so—,” he grumbles under his breath as he makes his way around you.
You laugh at him.
“No worries, Hoseok. Just go have fun.”
The two of you switch places, with his hand still on the door handle as he’s about to head out.
“I should be saying that to you guys,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yoongi’s right! Get lost already!!” You gently hit the side of his arm as he laughs at your reaction. “Don’t be so weird.”
“Who said it had to be those things? I never said that,” he laughs, but you roll your eyes at him. “Go out, watch a movie, or cook—whatever to get him up and out of his room. That guy isn’t even getting enough rest like usual and barely ate today and yesterday. I’ve literally never seen him like this before—he’s actually studying pretty hard for his exam.”
You’re thinking to yourself, giving him a little nod before he says his final goodbye and shuts the door.
God—Yoongi is really serious about this.
You knock before you enter, only to be faced with Yoongi at his desk, tons of loose paper scattered everywhere and crumpled ones on the floor. He didn’t even notice you until you said his name, his focus from the lecture playing on his laptop switched to you when he glanced over his shoulder.
“Babyy,” he mumbles lowly, a little smile on his mouth.
You’re walking towards him, expecting his eyes to stay on you but they don’t. He’s listening to whatever lecture he had on, scribbling down whatever. It kind of hurt a little. You were too used to having his attention all on you.
“Have you eaten? I brought some take out.”
All he does is shake his head, still focused on his work.
A small pout on your face appears, upset with how he was. You put the bag filled with food onto the floor, next to the drawers of his desk. You take a step closer to him, a hand immediately going to his head to run your fingers through his messy hair. You gently massage his scalp with the pads of your fingers, leaning over to take a look at his work. The only sound that could be heard between you two was the lecture that he had playing.
“Look at you, working so hard,” you broke the silence, “you literally weren’t able to be like this at the library.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just a little “uh-huh”. It was more of a little grunt in agreement. 
It bothered you that he wasn’t talking to you like usual. No hands or eyes all over you—nothing! 
You remove your hands away from him.
“Yoongi, don’t you want to relax with me for a little bit?”
It was obvious you were pouting again—you can just hear it as you spoke.
“Can’t, baby. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He didn’t even bother to glance over at you or complain how you removed your hand from his head. 
“Not even just for a little?”
You hear him exhale, the small action enough to make your heart sink just a little.
“Baby, I’m a little busy. Go lay in my bed and rest for me over there, yeah? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
Now that definitely hurt.
He didn’t even take a look at you again! Not one glance.
Without a word, you sat on his bed. Eventually you quietly lay down, taking your phone out to scroll through your apps even though you’d much prefer to be talking or hanging out with Yoongi. 
The silence and sound of his lecture videos and the small scratches of his pencil on his paper echos in the room.
Who would have thought you’d ever see Yoongi ignoring you or not be all over you when you’re in the same room as him?
You immediately got to thinking.
And it hit you.
You toss your phone somewhere on the bed, getting up and making your way to Yoongi. You stood next to him, watching the way he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. He sits there silently, carefully watching his lecture. When you see the right moment, you turn his chair a bit towards you, giving you enough room to squeeze your way through and sit on his lap while facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Baby—,” he sighs, “I told you I’m busy right now. I can’t have you on me like this.”
“But babyyy I miss youuu,” you whined, “can’t I get a recharge?”
You notice him completely freeze, slowly taking in what just happened—it was the first time in forever where you didn’t call him by his name.
You mentally smirk to yourself.
Now that’s what you were waiting for. 
He swallows hard, keeping his composure. 
“Yeah?” He hums, “I have the test tomorrow and I’m trying to get a good grade on it. If I let you sit here with me, you gotta promise me that you won’t distract me. This test means a lot to me. Got that, baby?”
You tighten your hold around him, nestling your head against the side of his neck. You nod your head at his words. Not because you agree or that you’d promise to follow his conditions. It was just for the sake of his sanity.
He clears his throat, hitting the play button and grabbing his pencil to continue scribbling down notes or whatever. 
Everything was pissing you off at the moment. 
You missed his hands being all over you and the way he’d fight his way to steal another kiss from you while you’re trying to push him away because he was always greedy for more. You wanted him to be annoyingly head over heels for you while you try to be nonchalant about it. And it’s also crazy to think that it’s only been a couple days and you’re acting like this over Yoongi not showing you the same attention as usual.
You give it some time. Patiently waiting until you thought it was time to get him all riled up—and then maybe he might just pay more attention to you. But being extremely patient at this moment is a pain in the ass, and you knew you didn’t want to drag this on forever. You move around on top of his lap, trying to somewhat grind against him as you pretend to get yourself more comfortable. You move your face closer to his neck, nuzzling your head on the top of his shoulder. You softly exhale, allowing your breath to hit and tickle his neck. 
Nothing. No reaction. 
You place your soft lips against his skin, giving him very light kisses on the same spot.
He slightly tilts his neck away without a word, causing you to huff in annoyance. You immediately bring your lips to his neck again, placing slow and gentle kisses on the side of his neck that instead lead to a spot under his ear and along his jawline.
He groans, clearly enjoying your actions but conflicted with the need to resist the temptation of you.
“Baby,” is all he says, voice sharp and stern. 
You pull away, sitting up straight to face him. 
“Enough.”
You could tell on his face that he was being serious.
Well..trying to. And it was cute—which is why he wasn’t as successful with intimidating you.
You roll your eyes at him, making your way towards him to pepper his jawline with kisses.
“But I miss youu,” you mumbled against his skin, making your way to his ear.
“…and I want you so bad, babyyy.”
You hear him mumble a “fuckin’ hell” under his breath and his hands creep underneath your thighs. He’s picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck tightly. In no time, you feel your back hit against the bed. You watch him adjust himself so that he’s eye level with you as he hovers above you. Just by the look of his dark eyes, you knew you were in for it. 
“Yoongi—,” you squeaked.
“Hm?” He hums, voice rough. 
The atmosphere around him felt different this time. It was just hard to point out what it was. Nevertheless, you brushed it off. As desperate this may sound, you were finally getting what you wanted and you’re not going to let anything get in the way. All you wanted right now was him because—fuck—you miss him. 
“Please—,” you mumble.
It felt embarrassing to be underneath him like this with his hungry eyes beaming at you—and that’s all he’s been doing for the past how many minutes that felt like an eternity. You watch his eyes flicker from your eyes and down to your lips, clearly tempted to just devour you then and there but he doesn’t. He shifts in his position, bringing his right thigh in between your legs and pressed against your crotch, giving you the opportunity to grind against him—cuz fuck, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to be touched—you needed him to do something to help you get some relief but he didn't do anything.
He watches you carefully. The way your eyes flutter shut and open slowly as you attempt to grind against his thigh, begging for him to do something.  God, you were just so fucking tempting. But he couldn’t.
Instead, he brings his head to the side of your neck, peppering a messy line of light kiss along it. He leads the trail up towards the side of your jaw, almost mimicking exactly what you were doing earlier. Once he makes it to the spot underneath the lobe of your ear he pulls away.
“What do you want, princess?” He softly speaks into your ear. 
The sound of his voice and the way his breath hits your skin already sends shivers down your spine. It was really just the effect he had on you, and he never failed to make you feel this way. Your mind was already drunk off him, words also didn’t seem to want to come out of your mouth.
He removes his thigh away from you and sits up, getting another good look at you before he lowers himself more till he becomes face-to-face with your abdomen as he lays in between your legs. He lifts up the oversized hoodie you wore, but only exposing your tummy. From there, he started to place slow and soft kisses from below your chest and leading down to underneath your belly button. These actions were making you go crazy—maybe it has been too long since you’ve been touched this way by Yoongi.
He stops giving your tummy kisses when he reaches the spot under your belly button, making you whine out a little “please”.
“Mmm?” He hums, looks up at you as he sits back up to admire you. “What baby? You want me to go further, don’t you?”
You nod at him, your eyes telling him that you need more.
He gives you a lopsided smile before bringing his head to the side of yours, his lips slightly grazing the shape of your ear.
“I don’t fuck just anyone anymore, remember? My girlfriend is the only person I ever want to fuck.” 
What a damn smart ass.
He’s already pulling away chuckling before you could wrap yourself around him to keep him on top of you.
“Whaat?!” You whined, “—but Yoongi!”
He’s laying in between your legs, arms wrapped around your hips as he nuzzles the side of his head on your tummy. You watch him get comfortable and his breathing slows. 
“Yoongi,” you gently pat his head in annoyance.
Silence.
“Yoongi, wake up,” you huff.
Nothing.
The exhaustion finally caught up to him and made this man fall asleep on you just like that.
You grumble to yourself in annoyance—a perfectly good plan gone to waste. You do your best to shove him off you (of course it took a couple tries). Once you finally got him off you, you took your needy ass home.
That was just it.
Hoseok could deal with this man when he gets home!
You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you’re in this position right now. The Yoongi you were seeing now was a complete 180 from the one you were dealing with yesterday.
“What’s with the little outfit you have underneath your hoodie, princess? Were you already expecting me to come over?”
His smile is cheeky, the thought of you waiting for him to come home in that outfit got him smiling like crazy. 
Fuck—it  made him way too happy.
You hum, carefully picking out your words.
“I was going to film something.”
“Yeah?” His eyes widen, and his imaginary tail starts to wag. “as a congratulatory gift, huh?” 
“That… or a ‘sorry-you-failed-you’ll-get-it-next-time’ gift,” you chuckle.
He scoffs at your words.
“You thought I wouldn’t pass?”
“I mean there was a possibility, wasn’t there, Yoongi?”
He chuckles, bringing his eyes from you down to your thighs.
“You don’t get it, baby,” he hums, fingers lightly grazing down your thigh, “you told me you’d be all mine if I passed this exam.” He pauses, removing his fingers from your thigh and brings his face closer to your skin, pressing chaste kisses that lead up to your inner thigh. He gently bites down, earning a little yelp from you.
Yoongi sits up to face you eye-to-eye again, admiring the annoyed look on your cute face yet there was a slight shift in his demeanor.
“There’s no way I’d ever want to lose to a prize like that, baby. And even if I weren’t able to pass that exam, you know damn well that I’ll make sure to make you want to be mine.”
He stares at you, mentally undressing you causing him to lick his lips. The way he looked at you made you feel small, despite his eyes flickering from your eyes, down to your lips, and to your bare legs. It suddenly felt embarrassing to be wearing such an outfit under a hoodie while being in front of Yoongi. 
As if he could sense your feelings, he gets off the bed and grabs your swivel chair from your desk, placing it right in front of the end of the bed. He takes a seat, leaning back with his legs spread and arms crossed over his chest.
“Show me what you were about to film.”
“Yoongi—,” you mess with the bottom of your hoodie, pulling it down to cover yourself some more, “—you know I can’t —.”
“Show. Me.” He interrupts, words sharp. His voice was low and demanding—and you hate to admit it but it was definitely turning you on.
You swallowed hard, awkwardly clearing your throat before answering him. 
“I’m—uh—,” you croaked.
“What is it?” 
“My—um…,” you mumbled “…it’s in the drawer on your right.”
He raises an eyebrow, turning to his side to pull open the drawer of your dresser. He rummages through it without looking until he feels a particular item he can already recognize. The boy brings it out, holding it in front of him with a snicker.
“You were going to use this too?” He’s waving it around, a big smile on his face.
Your grow even more embarrassed, face flushed. You look down, avoiding his gaze as you sheepishly nod your head.
“What a treat,” he hums, “but don’t you need to prepare yourself before using your little toy?”
You lift your head up only to find him still watching you with a teasing smile. 
“Let me see how you get yourself all nice and wet, princess—then I’ll hand this over to you.”
As you’re sitting on top of your legs in a kneeling position, you bring your thighs a little closer to each other—and he immediately notices it.
He’s tipping his head upwards, giving you a signal to “go on”. 
You could just not listen to him but in all honesty, you’ve been waiting so long to become intimate with him again. And knowing him—especially from what happened the other day—he’d definitely tease the shit out of you and not give you what you want if you don’t follow his orders.
You try to brush off the nerves you were feeling, moving your legs from underneath. Your legs were spread apart, knees bent and feet on top of the bed, giving him a good view of your skimpy, sheer underwear you chose to wear today. He could already tell you were wet—just from a quick glance at your panties he’s already spotted a little wet patch.
With just your index and middle finger, you take the two digits and place them over your panties and on top of your clit, rubbing it in small and slow circles. You were already closing your eyes, throwing your head back while moaning softly. Maybe it was the effect of his presence or just him overall but you felt even more turned on than when you do this by yourself.
“Panties to the side, princess.”
You do as he says, feeling the surge embarrassment run through you, causing your face to grow hot and red. You continue to slowly rub your wet clit, with your head turned to the side as you whimper and moan all while avoiding him.
“Don’t avoid your pussy, baby. It needs some attention too,” he hums, “put a finger in.”
You look at him, biting down on your lip as you remove your fingers from your clit.
You hesitate a bit before slowly inserting your middle finger into your heat, pumping it in and out as you turn your head away from him to avoid his gaze. You bit down on your lip with enough pressure to leave indents, suppressing your moans from Yoongi.
“So good baby, you’re such a good girl.” He coos.
“Your pussy is just sucking your finger right in, princess,” he chucked, “making a whole mess just from one finger.”
You ignored his comments, torn between concentrating imagining that your fingers were his own or his cock that were filling up your pussy, or the fact that you wanted to hide yourself and your moans from the man in front of you. God, it’s embarrassing—to be exposed and to be playing with your most private part right in front of a man you were head over heels for. Yoongi, however, wasn’t having it. He thought this whole thing was the biggest turn on he’s ever had. You were the sexiest girl on earth to him, especially with the nice treat of you playing with yourself. 
“Nnnggh—ahh~!” You yelped, quickly looking down to see the man in between your legs, eyes dark as he lapped up your overflowing essence. Your movements stutter, and he takes that as an opportunity to move your hand away and replace it with his, making you a bit noisier than before. He pulls his face away, thumb playing with your clit as he keeps eye contact with you.
“There we go, baby. Don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he smirks. It was easy for him to read you—he already knew that you would try to avoid his gaze. He’s tossing your pink dildo on the bed, removing his hand from your clit. He places each hand on the back of your thigh of each leg, pressing your legs against the sides of your chest and nearly folding you in half. This position was one of his favorites—he was always able to see everything while he ate you out.
He keeps a tight hold on your legs, making sure they stay in place. He switches from using a flat tongue while moving his head side to side to using just the tip of his tongue to stimulate your sensitive and erect clit before sucking it—completely indulging in all your juices that were flowing out of you. 
“W-wait!—please!” you squealed.
He has you squirming, lifting your hips in an attempt to get it away or closer to his face. The noises he made were obscene— loud slurps, low hums. He ran his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up the essence you produced. He uses that thick piece of muscle to probe at your hole, plunging it in and out of you. He buried his face into your pussy, his tongue moving around your hole as his nose brushes against your bead, allowing him to inhale the sweetest scent of you.
He loved watching the look you had on your face—cheeks brushed red, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. It was a sexy look—and being in this position where he had a good view of your lower half and your face could almost make him cum. He removes his hold from one leg, bringing that free hand to easily slide two fingers in you as he abuses your clit with his mouth, causing you to let out a strained gasp.
“Y-yoon…gi~!” You cried.
He hums against your clit before removing himself.
“Fuck, princess—,” he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, “—you taste so damn good.”
“Please—! Need you!”
He’s chuckling at you—thought that you looked so damn adorable that he was contemplating to tease the shit out of you or completely fuck your brains out.
“Yeah? You need my cock, huh, baby?” With his two fingers in your pussy, he uses his thumb to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him. He becomes more aggressive with his thrusting of his fingers.
“Hhhnnghh—!” You squeak, feeling yourself about to reach your high. You’re gripping onto the sheets, arching your back. Right there—it was right there. You could feel the way he was trying to get you to release. But once you almost felt that wave of pleasure, it was quickly taken away from you. Your legs shake and you clench around nothing.
“You owe me a show, princess,” the man hums, bringing the wet digits to his mouth. He spreads his two fingers apart, making a v-shape as he takes his tongue and licks around his fingers—the slick, sticky essence coating them— all while making sure to maintain eye contact with you.
“Yooonggii—,” you whined with a pout, bringing your legs together to rub your thighs against each other to feel something. “Was almost there, Yoongi~,” you mumble with a pout, innocent eyes glistening at him. 
He’s standing up as you spoke, chuckling at how desperate you looked. 
“God, you’re fucking cute.”
It was clear to him how badly you wanted him to continue. But he had to hold himself back because he just had to play around with you. The man reaches over the bed to grab the sex toy he tossed earlier, holding up to show it to you.
“I got you all ready for this, baby. Show me how you use it.”
You look at him with a flushed face, lips pouting at the fact he wasn’t going to continue what he was doing earlier. It was annoying—stopping you from cumming just because he wants to see you ride your dildo. You were hoping the pleading look on your face would change his mind—make him want to continue, but he doesn’t budge. You slightly roll your eyes at him, reposition yourself to sit up in front of him on your knees again. 
He smirks, satisfied with how well you’re listening to him even though he can see right through you. Yoongi gently tosses the dildo in front of you before taking a seat. You took the toy into your hands, holding it as if it was a foreign object to you. 
“Go on, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on you. He looked relaxed; slightly slouched against the chair with his legs manspreading. 
You huff, mustering up the courage and to mentally preparing yourself to do such a lewd act in front of him (even though the two of you have already slept with each other and seen one another naked and whatnot…). You lift yourself up, standing on your knees with them slightly spread apart. You hold the bottom of your hoodie underneath your chin, which exposes just your tummy, while you try to position the toy underneath you. You bring your panties to the side to expose yourself, brushing just the tip against your slit which makes you clench around nothing. You  slowly sink down once you feel yourself wrap around the tip. 
“Haaa~,” you gasp, tilting your head back as you sink down even further. You’re a whimpering, mumbling mess when you have it completely in you—and fuck has it been a long time since you’ve actually used it or been fucked by Yoongi. You allow yourself to get yourself adjusted.
He focuses on how your face scrunches up and how your mouth hangs open, since you’ve let go of the bottom part of your hoodie and is now covering where all the action was. 
You missed this feeling of being full that it was making you go crazy. You wanted to stay like this, but for some reason you felt like wanting to move. You lift your hips up in an attempt to have the toy just barely in you, but it doesn’t slide out of you so you sit down again.
“Your pussy isn’t letting it go, princess. You’re gripping it so tightly,” he chuckles, leaning forward so that he’s closer to you and the bed. “I’ll hold it for you, baby.”
You nod, lifting your legs up as you try to relax yourself, letting your dildo slide out and onto the bed. You stood there on your knees, waiting for him to do something.
He brings his hand to the bottom of your hoodie.
“Hold this up with your mouth for me, baby. Make sure this part is the part you’re holding with your mouth”
You look at him a bit weird, not fully understanding his specific request but you do it anyway. You bring the fabric up to your mouth, now completely revealing your lingerie to him.
Ah…What a smartass.
He notices you roll your eyes at him, making him chuckle. He takes the sex toy and holds it with the base in his palm.
“Alright, baby. Go at it.” He’s positioned the dildo underneath you, waiting for you to get on it again. 
The two of you make eye contact as you slowly sink down again. You feel the tip of the toy brush against your wet folds, causing you to bite down on the fabric a little harder than before. 
Why are you more excited? Is it because of Yoongi? 
Fuck, you wanted him badly.
As you slowly slide yourself down on the dildo, you’re  immediately throwing your head back again, breaking eye contact but he continues to watch you. You feel yourself reach the end of it, only for you to immediately raise your hips and again to slowly start moving up and down. You find a rhythm as you bounce on the toy, your hands finding their way to massage your breasts, massaging them with the lingerie still on as your moans are slightly muffled from the fabric in your mouth. 
“Look at you playing with yourself. You look so sexy, princess. You were going to film something like this for me, right baby?” He hums, reaching over in his pocket to take out his phone. He opens up the camera app, tilting his phone upwards to get the whole view of you and starts to record you. “I'll help you and be your cameraman—look at the camera, princess.”
At first he gets a shot of all of you—you glancing down at him and the camera with a flushed face before quickly throwing your head back, hands grabbing at your own breast over the sheer fabric covering them, your hips moving on its own as you bounced up and down. He then pans the camera to your pussy swallowing up your dildo.
“Yeah, keep moving like that, baby. You’re making such a creamy mess on your dildo like a good girl. You’re gripping so hard—fuck, baby,” he groans lowly.
He watches the way all your overflowing juices were pooling at the base of the dildo and makes sure to get a good shot of it before tossing it to the side.
“Take the hoodie off, baby.”
You do as he says, tossing the fabric somewhere on the floor. He takes in the way you looked in the skimpy piece of clothing you wore underneath. 
God, you blew him away. 
You were just so. damn. beautiful. 
The white made you look heavenly—angelic, actually. And the lacey, sheer fabric that covered you wasn’t necessary at this point, but damn did it do a good job at catching his eye. The set you had on also had some frills on it, along with a little bow in the middle of your waistband and of your bra. It all suited you—it was perfectly made for you.
He literally just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
With his free hand, he caresses the curve of your waist to the curve of your hips. He takes a finger and curls it underneath the thin waistband of your panties, following it slowly until he removes it once he reached the middle of your thigh. Yoongi brings his hand up to your chest, using his index finger and thumb to pinch your erect nipple right through the sheer fabric.
“Haaahh~,” you stutter in your movements, letting out an airy moan.
God, he needed you so bad.
He takes the hand that is holding your dildo, flicking his wrist upwards, causing you to fall forwards and pause your movements. He slides your dildo back out, only just to slam it back in and keep it at a steady pace—fucking you with your dildo as you stay still leaning over him. His free hand goes to the side of your ass, helping you stay up.
“Yoongi—!” You whine, your arms making its way to link behind the man’s neck. Your chest is nearly pressed against his face, giving him the opportunity to grab a mouthful of your breast. 
The man encases your hard nipple through the fabric in his mouth, biting down on it enough to get another moan of his name out of your mouth.
“Nnnghh~!” You squeal, pulling him closer to you. 
He then begins to suck on your nipple, toying with the metal bar that’s pierced right through it. With how sheer the fabric is, he’s practically sucking on you rather than the fabric.
Your legs begin to shake as he starts to pick up the pace with your dildo. You could feel that high again, the same feeling you felt earlier when he was eating you out like a goddamn monster.
“Yoongi!” You chant with your mouth slightly hung open, “please! Right there—!”
He’s slamming the dildo inside you, filing you all the way. He’s hitting the spot that made you roll your eyes backwards, your mouth hanging open and spewing nonsense.
He removes himself from your breast, pulling back to take a look at your face, admiring how sexy you are. God—he can’t get over you.
“Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he mumbles lowly, “lose yourself already.”
He uses the hand on your ass to guide you on your dildo while the other hand has it sliding in and out of you. He brings his lips to your collarbone, trailing kisses towards and up your neck.
You breathe heavily, mouth hung wide open as pleasure takes over you. It almost felt like you were being fucked by him, but it was nearly enough. 
“Yoongi—yoongi!” You chant before losing yourself. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to your heart pound crazy while you catch your breath. 
“Good job, baby, you did so good.” He kisses the side of your head, slowly removing the dildo from your pussy, earning a little whine from you.
He lets you sit down on his clothed lap, your wetness probably leaving marks on his sweats. At this point, you could most definitely feel how hard he was right now. You lift your head up and look at him with fucked out eyes. Your hands were clasped behind his neck, while his hands rested on your waist.
You grind yourself against his hard erection, hoping he gets the hint that you wanted him now instead of having you beg for it.
The corner of his mouth lifts up to a small smirk.
He’s lifting you up as he gets you both off the bed. He’s turning around, gently bringing you down on top of the bed.
“Lie down for me, baby,” his voice low.
He gets a view of you again in your sexy lingerie. Yes, this fucking sexy ass lingerie—god, all the mental photos he has of you will definitely be on repeat in his mind. He didn’t want to remove it. I mean—it would be a waste if he had to. Just the look of you in such a pretty yet skimpy outfit made him go crazy. 
You attempt to be quick with closing your legs again, keeping some modesty. However, he was able to beat you by bringing his hands on either of your legs and pushing them slightly down to keep you wide open for him.
“So pretty,” he mumbles under his breath as he salivates at the look of your body. You grew embarrassed again, having the urge to shut your legs to cover you up but Yoongi was too strong for you.
“Can you tell me what you want next, baby?”
You already knew he was going to tease you—actually he probably just wanted to hear those words come right out of your mouth. It would be music to his ears.
“Yoongi, please…,” you mumble, “don’t you want to fuck me?” You give him the most innocent doe eyes that you could, hoping he could lose himself already.
He chuckles.
“Of course, princess,” he brings himself closer to you, taking his painful erection and grinds himself against your slick, teasing your little hole. “You want me to fuck you like this? With my clothes on? It’s making such a mess on my pants, baby.”
You bite down on your bottom lip, shaking your head no. You wanted more, and you know that he knows that already.
“Thought so,” he hums. “Be specific, baby. Tell me what you want me to do.”
You hesitate a bit, but his teasing was enough to make you more upfront with what you wanted.
“Take your clothes off too, Yoongi.”
“Mmm…were you feeling alone?”
“Extremely, Yoongi”
He chuckles as he removes every piece of his clothing from his body, tossing it wherever in the room.
“Can’t let my baby feel that way,” he hums.
Your eyes go from his to below his waist, watching him slowly remove his boxers and revealing his cock. It was thick and long, an angry red at the tip with a bit of precum oozing out. 
Your hand gravitates towards it, holding it by the base and squeezing it a little. You completely forgot how big and girthy he was. As you slide your hand up and down his cock, you got him lowly groaning while you thought to yourself about whether or not this thing could fit in you again. But fuck—you wanted him so bad. 
“…please Yoongi,” you remove your hand from his cock, looking up at him, “fuck me already.”
He’s smiling, bringing his cock closer to your core. He takes his thumb to push his cock on top of your slit, and keeps it there. He slides himself back and forth, coating himself with your slick, teasing you as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit.
You let out a little whine from his touch. 
“Want your cock inside me, Yoongi,” you mumble.
He’s leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, his facing hovering yours.
“It’s all yours, baby.”
He’s leans in again to steal a passionate kiss from you, while he slowly pushes his cock inside your soaked hole. You slightly pull away from him, your mouth hanging open, spewing out soft moans as he fills you up. 
He gives you the chance to get used to him being inside you. And fuck, did he miss your fucking pussy. 
He pulls his hips back, letting you miss the feeling of him filling you up before he slams himself right back into you again.
“Haaah~! Yoongi!” You say breathlessly. Your hands crawl to hold the sides of his face, as he continues to leave a trail of scattered kisses from the side of your neck and down to your chest. He’s pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing you before he latches on to your pierced nipple. 
He starts to pick up the pace as he thrusts into you; finally leaving your breasts alone with hickies that mark you as his. He stands straight to look down at you, watching you writhing underneath him. He pulls the other cup to your bra to expose the other perky and pierced breast. His eyes mesmerized by the face you were making as you were getting fucked by him, your tight pussy sucking him right up, and your tits bouncing everywhere—god it felt like they made him even harder.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, “you’re all mine, huh?”
You let out little more whimpers and moans, unable to make out any sentences. He chuckles, wanting to see you lose more of yourself. He lifts your leg and puts it over your shoulder, wanting to penetrate you even deeper. He takes his right thumb and gives it a quick lick with his tongue before placing it right on your clit, rubbing it in circles.
“Nnnggh—ah! Yoongi!” You yelp.
“My pretty girl. You take me in so well, huh?”
He watches you let out louder moan, realizing that his cock grazed your most sensitive spot.
He’s snapping his hips hard against you. He lifts his knee up to place it on the bed, angling himself so that he could continuously hit that spot that had you rolling your eyes back. He presses down on your clit harder, torturing it with quick and small tracings of a circle.
You’re mumbling nonsense, spewing out whatever came out of your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, making him let out another groan.
He looks down at the area where you two were connected, admiring the creamy mess you were making on his dick. His eyes wander upwards to your heavenly body. Then up to your cute face, making all kinds of sounds as he pounded you—God, he’s actually going insane, he was grunting with every thrust. 
“W-wait! Haahnngh~! Yoongi!” You bring a hand to his abdomen, weakly trying to push him away as he’s drilling himself inside of you. 
“Please!” You whined, “s-something’s coming out!” 
A soft smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he watches yours—mouth hung open, nonsense whining. You were writhing underneath him, trying to get away from him but he wouldn’t let you. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before putting more strength into his thrusts.
“Yoongi!” You yelped, letting out helpless whines as you can feel yourself about to reach your high. 
Your hands wrap around his back, your sharp nails scratching him enough to show red lines and possibly make him bleed. 
He gives a final thrust, causing you to squirt all over his pelvis area and onto the bed when he removes himself from your hole.
“Fuck…,” he grumbles under his breath.
He watches your chest move up and down, eyes closed as you’re still trying to recover from what just happened.
“You made a fucking mess, baby. You squirted all over me.”
Your eyes shot open, propping yourself up with your elbows to look down at what you did.
“I just…?” You lay yourself down again, covering your eyes in humiliation. It’s the first time you’ve done that before. “Yoongi—this is so embarrassing,” you whined.
“Embarrassing?” He’s leaning forward to kiss the back of your hands before gently removing them away from your face, eyes now on him. “That was sexy as fuck, baby.”
He’s lifting you to sit you up before he carries you again. He sits first on the edge of the bed, placing you on his lap while facing forward. Right in front of you, you had a view of the two of your naked, sweaty bodies. Hickies scatter across your chest, your legs spread apart and glistening from you making the biggest mess. You feel your cheeks grow red from looking at yourself.
He helps remove your sheer, lace bra off. His hands roam around until they glide up and down the sides of your waist.
“Look how sexy you are, baby. So, so fucking sexy.”
He’s tapping on the side of your ass, signaling for you to lift your bottom just a bit, which you did, as he helps you remove your panties. He holds his cock up, and helps you guide your hips to it. You slowly slide down on his cock, fully taking him whole, causing you to let out a shaky moan.
“Bring your feet up, baby.”
You do it, placing one foot on either side of him and near the edge of the bed. He has his chest against your back, an arm holding your waist to keep you steady while his other hand is pushed against the bed behind him to hold him up.
“Bounce for me, princess. And keep your eyes on the mirror. Need you to see what I see when I fuck you.”
You bite down on your lip, looking at him through the mirror and he tips his head again telling you to “go on”. You slowly lift your hips up, feeling somewhat empty without his cock in you, until you drop yourself down on him. The fullness had you moaning out his name, throwing your head back in pleasure.
“I told you to watch yourself, didn’t I?”
You keep a steady pace on his cock, your eyes closed and mouth hanging open again.
“…too embarrassing—,” you moan.
He scoffs, annoyed with your response. He wanted you to see how you looked—how your body reacts when you have his cock stuffed inside of you. He wasn’t going to let that answer slide.
The man hooks his arms under the back of your knees, carrying you while he keeps himself in you. Your eyes flash open when you feel yourself in the air.
“W-wait! Yoongi!” Your hands go to your face to cover your eyes. You lay your back more against him to keep yourself from falling forward.
He’s moving you on his cock with no difficulties. He has you bouncing up and down, while you’re still trying to process what’s going on.
“Look at how much of a slut you fucking look like, princess,” his voice low and gravely. 
The contrast of his words turn you on. Peaking through your fingers, you catch a glimpse of your glistening, naked body. 
“Remove them, now.”
You swallow hard, finally facing yourself. Your eyes wander, watching the way your pussy took in your boyfriend’s cock, how you were making such a damn mess on it, the way your perky breasts bounced around while he thrusted upwards into your pussy. It was all so vulgar—a dirty scene that came out of a porno.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby. This is the view that I get—andI’m the only one who gets to have this view.”
Despite feeling slightly embarrassed about watching yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more turned on. Who knew you could make such a dirty yet sexy expression?
You’re furrowing your eyebrows, mouth hung open as you whimper and moan. Your hand travels down to your lower abdomen, holding it there to feel a slight bulge whenever Yoongi pushes himself in you. It was actually insane to you to be able to feel and see this.
“Go lower, baby. Play with yourself.”
Your hand slowly inches lower, grazing your skin. You take a finger and draw small, slow circles on your clit. You watch yourself through the mirror, your eyes flickering to watch your scrunched up face to how Yoongi was pounding your pussy while you played with your swollen, sensitive bead.
“Fuck—that’s it baby. You listen so well,” he grunts. 
He adjusts his hold under you, making it more comfortable for him to slide you in and out of him while he fucks you harder underneath. He was basically doing bicep curls at this point—his muscles were nearly on fire but he couldn’t care any less.
“More pressure baby.”
You follow his commands, and you have yourself throwing your head back again as you lose yourself. Your sensitive clit makes your hips shake, causing you to squeeze tightly around him. You hear Yoongi slightly growl in your ear, going crazy because of you. 
“You’re milking my cock so hard—you want my cum that bad, huh?” His voice was gruff.
He holds you a bit lower, stopping his little bicep curls and instead continues to fuck you from underneath at a faster pace and with more forceful thrusts.
“Ngggh—ahh~!” You yelp from the change in speed.
“Don’t fucking remove your fingers. Keep playing with yourself.”
You were nearly seeing stars again. You couldn’t think straight. But you could feel that same feeling you felt earlier, and you knew you just couldn’t hold that knot in your stomach anymore.
“F—fuck! Yoongi! Ah—!” You cried, “cumming!”
“Fucking cum for me, baby. Lose yourself already.” 
He’s thrusting you with all the power he can, while his face was stuck on watching your reaction on your airbrushed slightly red face. 
Soon, he's pulling out of your slippery, wet hole. Your mouth makes an “o” shape, before crying out Yoongi’s name as you orgasm again.  Your body fluids shot out of you and coating the mirror—and you squirt again, just as he was wanting to get you to do. 
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes closed as you were trying to catch your breath. You could feel your hips still twitching from being so sensitive. This was something you’ve never experienced before. 
He’s kissing the side of your head, mumbling sweet words. He gently lays you back down on the bed on your back, allowing you some time to relax for a bit. You can feel the mix of his and your fluids seeping out of your hole, dripping down to your other puckered hole.
Your eyes flutter open and they couldn’t help but take a quick scan at the naked man’s body that stood in front of you. As you look lower, you can’t help but notice that his cock was still painfully hard, standing up straight with a slight curve to it.
He towers over you, watching every small movement you make. Although he was being sweet to give you some time to rest, by the look he was making you could tell he was hungrily waiting for the next round. He licks his lips as a lazy smile forms on his face as your eyes finally meet.
“Yoongi…,” you mumble. Your hand makes its way to his length, wrapping your fingers around it. Your essence still coats him, making it slippery enough for you to slowly stroke his cock. You look up at him with half-lided eyes.
He lowly groans in pleasure, throwing his head back for a second before bringing it back to look at you.
“Mmm…yes, baby?” 
“All that fucking and you’re still so hard?”
He’s laughing, an odd thing to do when someone is giving you a handjob. 
“I can’t get enough of you, baby.”
“Yeah?” You hum, slowing your movements. 
He takes his hand and wraps it around yours, helping you pump his cock before he starts to guide it to your slit. The two of you drag the tip against your wet folds.
“Looks like it’s the same for you too, baby. You’re fucking wet again.” He’s pushing himself into you again, the two of you letting go of his cock. He slowly sinks in, getting a little whimper out of you.
“All that fucking and you’re still clenching onto me so tightly, baby. You really love my cock inside you, huh?”
He’s pulling out, still keeping the tip in, before he thrusts back into you. 
“Mmmph~! F-fuck…! Yesss, Yoongi.”
He’s chuckling again, keeping his pace steady.
“Yeah?” He hums, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your thigh to keep it steady. Taking his free hand, he uses it to press firmly against your lower abdomen. You’re mumbling nonsense again from this new feeling of pleasure.
“God—I fucking love you,” he grunts, bringing your other leg over his shoulder. He’s leaning against you, practically folding your body in half just to reach you even deeper. This position had you rolling your eyes back, reaching for any body part of him to dig your fingernails into his skin. Yoongi would switch it up at times—from giving you fast yet shorter strokes to taking his sweet time as he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to slowly bring himself back in. However, he made it his goal to make sure every thrust was sharp enough to bruise your cervix. 
Your mouth hangs open, nothing but airy moans escaping from it with every thrust he makes. He brings his face to yours, using this opportunity to probe his tongue into your mouth. His tongue dances along with yours before he captures it in his mouth. He’s sucking on it, eliciting more moans from you but he removes himself to swallow them. You pull away to catch your breath, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter.
“Gonna…cum—,” you mumble under your breath. 
Yoongi huffs, giving you small pecks on the sides of your mouth. He really didn’t need you to let him know. He could already tell by the way your insides were clamping onto him. 
He’s quickly removing himself from you, denying your orgasm. The man watches your hips move in desperation, your hole spasming around nothing as he helps you rest your legs on the bed.
“Yoongiii—hnngh…,” you cried, voice whiney. “So mean,” you quietly mumble.
He smirks at your words.
Without any word, he rolls you onto your stomach. The man lifts your hips upwards to have your ass sticking up and spreads your legs apart. He pushes the upper portion of your body against the mattress, your arms cushion your head as you lay there. With his large hand, he presses on the small of your back, helping you with a deeper arch. 
“Beg for my cock, baby.”
You turn your head around to look back at him, shaking your head in disagreement while he has you in this position.
His left eyebrow lifts up and a dark chuckle escapes his lips.
“You were behaving so well earlier, princess.” He hums, taking his dick and running it through your wet folds to collect your arousal. “Now you want to be a brat?”
“Don’t want to beg anymore,” you mumble.
He scoffs. “So should I end it here?”
“Go ahead. I’ll find someone else who could do a better job then. They would let me cum.”
He smacks the sides of your ass, getting a yelp out of you.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Maybe I can call up this one guy—.”
He grasps the sides of your ass, spreading them apart to reveal your needy pink, dripping hole. He slowly sinks into you, causing you to let out a shaky moan. Yoongi keeps still inside of you, making sure you’re taking in all of him.
“You only need me, baby—your fucking boyfriend. I’m the only one who gets to see you this way and get you to cum.”
He can’t help but absolutely hate the sound and the thought of you with another man. It drove him crazy just hearing you mention “some other guy”.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, little moans coming out of you as being stuffed with his dick made you go dumb in the head.
“—Yoongi—ngggh—! Move!”
He lifts your hips higher, pressing the small of your back to get you to arch your back more. He leans over you, his pelvis pressed against your ass, making you feel his dick even further in you, causing you to let out a swear. He leaves gentle kisses on the back of your naked shoulder.
“Say please,” he mumbles into your skin.
“F—fuck, Yoongi!” You grumble, annoyed at his words.
He waits patiently, letting his silence and your soft whimpers fill the air. The man couldn’t care less if he had to stay in the position for hours—he loved the feeling of your soft, warm, and wet pussy pulsating around him. 
And with that, you knew you couldn’t win.
 “—Please—!” You cry out. 
“Remind me who I am again.”
“—boyfriend!” You quickly spat out, desperate for him to move already.
“You gonna be a good girl for me again?”
You’re quick to nod your head ‘yes’.
He grins at your response, happy with how easy he can get you to be submissive when you’re full of his cock.
“Now was that so hard to do, princess?”
He’s pulling out, just the tip barely in you.
“…annoying,” you mumble under your breath.
He slams himself into you again, causing you to moan out his name.
“Yeah? I’m annoying too, huh? A big mean, annoying boyfriend, right?”  His voice was low and gravelly.
He starts to find a rhythm and pace as he starts to pound your pussy. Snapping his hips to make sure his skin hits against yours as loud and as hard as he can, the noises filling the room and the skin of your ass slowly turning a shade of red.
He’s searching for your dildo that was thrown somewhere nearby. Once he finds it, he’s immediately taking it. He leans over you as he fucks you, placing the dildo in front of you. Yoongi halts his movements, removing himself from you.
“Yoongi~,” you whine, swaying your ass side to side. You push your hips back, trying to find him so you could reconnect again.
God, this view—this scenario. It’s all he could easily get used to.
“C’mon, baby you can’t be doing that to me,” he slightly groans, “you’re driving me crazy.”
“Please,” you mumble, bringing your hands behind you. You place one hand on the sides of your ass, gently spreading it apart so that Yoongi has a better view of your weeping hole. You turn your head to look back at him as you hold yourself in this position, swaying your ass side to side. “Please go crazy and fuck me already, Yoongi.”
What a fucking invite.
“Fuck,” he hissed, running his hand through his wet hair. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, making him painfully harder. His mind went damn blank just from hearing you say that while being in such a pornographic position. 
You seriously knew how to turn him on. 
How fucking dangerous.
He’s bringing himself closer to you, rubbing his erect cock in between your ass, allowing it to slide back and forth. It gets you impatient, causing you to wiggle your ass again as he continues with his movements.
“Be a good girl and keep that dildo in your mouth while I fuck you, alright princess?” He gives the side of your ass another gentle slap as a form of encouragement.
Yoongi patiently waits for you to start bobbing your head, along with the vulgar slurping noises you obnoxiously made.
Did you really enjoy having that dildo inside your mouth when he was right behind you?
He mentally scoffs out of jealousy, knowing that he shouldn’t be feeling this way at all. 
You became louder with your muffled moans once Yoongi was inside of you again, making those dumb thoughts disappear. The view of you being filled up both way clearly made him way too hard—he was instantly fucking you at a brutal pace, almost as if he hasn’t touched you in ages.
He’s rougher this time; using one hand to gather your hair and make a makeshift ponytail just to wrap it around his hand to help you guide your head along your dildo while the other free hand is gripping the side of your ass as he fucked you from behind.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. Sucking on your dildo while I fuck you senseless, just like a pretty little slut you are.” 
His thrusts had more force to them, your skin turning redder than before. He wanted to demolish you, make you melt underneath him. All you could do was hum into your dildo in pleasure, holding onto the base for dear life. You could feel tears threatening to spill out of your eyes whenever your dildo would reach deeper in your throat, causing you to gag on it. Of course, Yoongi thought all of this was sexy. God, it was fucking sexy.
He found that one spot again that has your mind spinning. The man angles himself so that he kept hitting that spot over and over again.
You immediately pull away from your dildo, drool escaping from the sides of your mouth.
“Y-yoongi—!” You yelped, your hands let go of the dildo after you toss it to the side, now gripping onto the sheets.
He releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to the front of your neck to pull you up and your back arched against him, changing the position again. The other hand around your waist to keep you steady.
Yoongi brings the side of his head to yours.
“Not gonna let you get away from me,” his gravely voice whispers against your ear—and god did that send tingles down your spine.
The pressure of his hand around your neck was pleasurable enough to keep you lightheaded. However that hand goes to toy with your breasts, fiddling with piercing and pinching your nipple before taking a big handful of your breast to massage it as he fucked you.
He finally brings his hand to your front, pressing his two fingers against your swollen and sensitive bead. You feel your hips twitch, unable to control your body movements. All you could feel in this moment was how hard the two of your heartbeats were and pure ecstasy. This man knew how to fuck. Scratch that—he knew how to fuck you. He’s already memorized what had you throwing your head back, what’s got you clenching so damn tightly around him, or what has you babbling nonsense just from fucking you a couple times.
“Yoon—gi! Haaah~!” You turn your head to the side and towards him. He brings his face to yours, attacking your lips again before you pull away a moaning mess.
“Fuck—you take me in so goddamn good, baby,” he grunts, “you wanna cum, huh, baby?”
You’re nodding your head, feeling yourself nearly on the brink of losing yourself again. He’s just about bruised your cervix enough and made your damn clit so swollen and sensitive to touch. You knew you were already making a mess around his dick.
He moves his hand away from your breast and around your waist again, embracing you and holding you tightly for what’s yet to come. Your arms hold onto his arm with one of your hands interlocking with his, a gesture that had him feeling like his heart grew 10x in size. He loves you. He’s way too in love with you—head over heels at this point.
If it was even possible, he’s fucking you even harder. Grunting into your ear, telling you how good you are, how damn pretty you are—how fucking perfect you are, practically made just for him. It was all enough for you to finally lose it, and it was the same for him too. He’s groaning in pleasure when he feels your pussy twitching around him. His warm cum coats the inside of your walls before it oozes out when he removes himself. You fall forward and lay against the bed with your arms weakly holding you up. He watches the mixture of your cum slowly dripping out before he takes his two fingers to push it right back in, only for it to slip out again. He’s quick to get the kleenex tissues to wipe you up, letting you have some time to  catch your breath. You’re rolling over to finally lay down on your side, watching the boy walk through the door.
“I went ahead and got the bath running, baby,” he hums, helping you sit back up. He pulls you onto his lap, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple. 
“You’re insane, Yoongi.”
“Am I?” He lazily smiles.
“I really don’t know what possessed you back there.”
He laughs, “Baby, I haven’t had a taste of you like that in so damn long. I couldn’t help it.” 
Before you knew it, he had you relaxing in the bathtub while he cleaned up the room and got it ready with new sheets and all for the two of you to get some rest. 
You could feel Yoongi’s body pressed against your back; his arm sitting across your waist and his head nuzzled against the back of your head. This was all something you had never imagined for yourself—to be lovingly cuddled like this after a long night with your now boyfriend who was an ex “fuckboy” from your school, but it’s definitely something you could get used to. 
You carefully remove yourself from his hold, quickly replacing yourself with one of your pillows. You glance over at him to see his sleeping figure one last time before leaving, and softly scoff with a smile on your face. 
This man is actually very cute when he’s sound asleep.
You quietly pick out some new clothes before tip-toeing away to your bathroom across the hall to get yourself ready for that well-deserved shower.
-
After putting on your clothes, you open the bathroom door, letting all the moisture and heat out. You take the time to gently brush your hair a little more after blow drying it, then applying some hair oil to the ends of it.
“You can’t just leave me like that and expect me to be okay with it.”
Your head quickly turns around to see the mumbling boy, squinting a half-asleep eye at you while using one of their fists to rub one of their other eye. You chuckle at his appearance—his naked torso and his boxers. He stood there in between the door frame, looking like an actual child who just woke up.
“It was just a quick shower, babe.” You turn around to the mirror and continue what you were doing. “I’ll be in the room soon.”
He grunts, making his way towards you as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him and lays his head on top of your shoulder.
“Yoongi~,” you whined with a soft chuckle. 
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s only allowed in bed.”
“Mm, so last night was just it, huh?”
He snorts with a chuckle at your comment, barely having enough energy to react a lot bigger.
“‘One time’ my ass. You’re stuck with me. Not letting you off that easy.”
He turns to your head and presses kisses to your hair. You bring a hand up to gently pat the side of his cheek.
“Congrats on passing the class,” you mumble, “and for finally getting that boyfriend title you’ve been wanting.”
Yoongi turns to look at you with a big smile on his face through the mirror, your hand gently caressing the side of his face. The two of you turn to each other, pressing a small kiss on the lips before pulling away.
“I know a better way you could congratulate me.”
You immediately knew exactly what he was hinting.
“You told me you’d give me whatever I want plus the boyfriend title.”
Fuck—yeah, you did promise that.
You sigh in defeat.
“…Breakfast first?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him that doe-eyed look that made his heart flutter like crazy.
He looks at you with so much adoration, in awe that this beautiful girl was finally his. 
-
if you got this far, thank you for the read <3 :)
i hope you enjoyed!! pls check out my other work!
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0097linersb · 1 year
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I See Red (m)
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ONE SHOT
Pairings: San x Reader
Genre: Smut (basically pwp)
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: Jealousy, dom!San , he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 
A/N: this was originally an nct jeno's fic but I thought it matched San so well so here u go
Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3
You didn’t know what finally set San off.  
Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone - and in minimal clothing too.
You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.
It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.
So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.
But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Wooyoung (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Seonghwa to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mingi at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Yunho’s shirts - but he was San, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.
It didn’t help when Wooyoung and Mingi asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Mingi playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Wooyoung teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset San and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out - which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for a bit longer than you actually did.
Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Jung Yunho pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.
Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about San’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.
Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Yunho, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”
Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”
You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”
San simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”
“I said- Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”
You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Yunho behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when San lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.
As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.
“San, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”
Damn.
You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and San was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 
Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.
“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”
“Yeah.”
He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”
You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.
“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.
“No.”
“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.
“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.
“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.
Ok, San was mad mad.
His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”
You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. San simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.
Oh, boy.
You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”
And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. San has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant sometimes, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”
“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.
San slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”
You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?
You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and San caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.
It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”
You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.
“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”
He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.
Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”
You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “San, I’m-”
“Only talk when spoken to.”
This new side of San, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. San continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.
You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen San so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.
He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. San didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.
“San, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.
“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.
You cried out at his words.
The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”
Ouch.
You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at San’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn’t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. San simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.
You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. San stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mingi at Yeonjun’s.”
You could see the way San’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”
One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.
Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.
On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.
“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?
He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.
San smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”
You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.
And then it all stopped.
You whined loudly and San simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”
When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”
You groaned and dropped back down, San easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, San didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.
“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”
You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. San said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.
Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “San, I can’t-“
“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.
You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. San’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.
“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”
You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way San was drilling into you and he knew it.
“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.
The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap San gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“N-no.”
“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.
“Only you can fuck me.”
“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”
You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.
“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.
“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.
You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but San was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”
And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.
“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”
You shakily nodded. At this point, if San wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.
“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Seonghwa’s name or see you kissing Wooyoung again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.
“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.
“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”
Your body stiffened, “San, I really can’t-“
“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.
As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.
A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and San caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”
You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way San sped up his movements you figured you were.
“Hands,” San asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.
He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.
“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”
You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.
“Tell me,” San asked.
“A-apple.”
“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.
After another few minutes, San let out a loud moan with a broken whine and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.
You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”
You wanted to scream.
“San, please,” You sobbed.
“What? You’ve been teasing me with Mingi for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”
You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.
“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”
“You said we were almost over,” You wail.
“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”
You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and San’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.
“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.
You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at San in shock, halting your motions.
“Now do it again while looking at me.”
You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into San’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.
“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.
“Stop.”
The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, San. Please. I ca-can’t-“
San silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.
“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.
“Hey baby, it’s ok,” San comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”
He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.
“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.
You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.
“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.
He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. San carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.
“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”
You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and San was proud of you.
You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”
You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?
“Yeah, why?”
“Wooyoung and Mingi are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”
At that you laughed and just let yourself slide down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.
    ____________________________________
“Babe?” You called, watching the way San played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, his chest pressed against your back making your body vibrate, you continued, “What finally set you off?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“
“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Yunho called you baby, only I get to call you that.”
You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Choi San.”
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Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.
Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.
This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.
Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.
So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)
To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.
Let's Talk Magical Girls
Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.
A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.
Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.
Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:
Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.
This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?
Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.
But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.
Origins as a Rom-com
Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!
In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!
First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:
Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.
I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:
Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.
This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?
In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).
Magical Girls Vs Rom-com
Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?
It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.
Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?
It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!
Are you starting to see the problem?
Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.
When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!
How Do We Fix This Mess
At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.
At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.
Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.
If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?
A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.
I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.
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vivwritesfics · 9 months
Text
Steal Your Girl - LN4
Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.
THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER
18+ ONLY
Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall
Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader
5.5k
Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos
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Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.
Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.
But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.
As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.
Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.
He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.
Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.
But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.
But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.
All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.
I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.
The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.
He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.
“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.
As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.
Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.
It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.
Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.
***
It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.
As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.
After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.
But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.
Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.
If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.
These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.
But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.
Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.
It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.
He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.
It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.
During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.
When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.
It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.
Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.
As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.
After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.
The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.
Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.
Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.
But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.
For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.
“Hey,” he shouted over the music.
Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.
Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.
Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.
Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.
"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.
Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.
"I know."
Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.
"And I fucking hate it," he finished.
Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.
And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.
I think you should leave your boyfriend.
But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.
And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.
It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.
As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.
Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.
As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.
Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.
But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.
Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.
Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.
There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.
When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.
She missed it, and she was missed.
By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.
Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?
She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.
In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.
But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.
So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.
On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.
Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.
So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.
This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.
There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.
Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”
Lando gestured for her to go on.
“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”
It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”
***
It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.
And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.
But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.
It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.
And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.
Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.
There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.
If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?
He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.
But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.
After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.
“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.
Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.
They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.
It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.
It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.
Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.
When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.
She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”
“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.
Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.
Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.
It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.
That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.
It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?
But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.
But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.
Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.
Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.
There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”
Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.
***
Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.
But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.
Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.
When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.
Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.
That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.
The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.
In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.
And she loved every second of it.
Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.
"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.
She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.
When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.
He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.
He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.
His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.
Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.
Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.
The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.
Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.
Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.
Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.
"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.
Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.
"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.
Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.
Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.
She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.
When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.
He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.
Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.
He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.
"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.
Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.
Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.
***
Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.
When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.
But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.
His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.
He was going to kill Lando Norris.
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dwaekkicidal · 4 months
Text
The Easy Way vs The Hard Way
˚ʚBang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: I was thinking about brat taming the other day and I came to the conclusion that Chris has 2 different ways to tame a brat. So I procrastinated on my fics + assignments and wrote this :)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, largely based around Daddy kink, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3), breeding mentions, Chris calls himself Daddy, 'good girl' used #2: kinda hard dom!chris, man handling, spanking
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: sorry not sorry that 'hard' is longer than 'easy' (are u surprised? have you SEEN my content?) and take this off of schedule because I hate letting things sit in my drafts for more than a day 😭 ALSO Sharing is Caring part 2 coming out later this week :3 (along with a Jisung request I got hehe <3)
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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I think he has 2 ways of taming brats depending on what his mood is. So here's a little scenario to picture so that I can explain what I mean!
After a long day for the both of you, you guys indulge each other in a nice hour or 2 of foreplay before he finally fucks you. After you both finish, Chris pulls away to watch his cum drip out of you and you wiggle your hips to tease him. He slaps your ass playfully in response and teases you back by saying something along the lines of “Unless you’re trying to get bred tonight, I suggest you stop shaking your ass at me like that baby.” “As if you would complain about that. For somebody who calls himself ‘Daddy’ and says he ‘DoEsN’t MeAn It LiKe ThAt’, you sure as hell are trying to become one.” He originally laughs, but once he processes that you mocked him he rolls his eyes at you, “Just have to be a little brat? Maybe I didn’t fuck you thoroughly enough.” You scoff, crossing your arms and turning to look at him, “You think you do that anyways?”
So. How does theee Bang Christopher Chan deal with this?
‘Easy’ Way; aka “kill them with kindness”
“You think you do that anyways?”
He simply narrows his eyes at you, placing his hands on his hips, “Yeah?”
You proudly respond with an “Mhm." and stick your chin up.
He chuckles, stepping towards you and raising his hand to rest against your cheek, softly caressing the skin there. “But baby, you were just the one begging me to fuck you. Surely if I ‘never’ fucked you thoroughly enough, you wouldn’t be on your knees begging for my dick to be in you?”
You frown and he laughs in response, not giving you a chance to speak up before he continues. His free hand trails down your stomach and stops at your cunt, where he ghosts his fingers along your folds. You whimper and chew on your bottom lip, looking away from him shyly.
"And... Where did my good girl go? Hm? My pretty baby who listens soo well.” His fingers tease your hole before you’re filled with two of them. “My sweet doll who would never let her Daddy down like this.” His fingers double their efforts and the hand on your cheek slides a thumb into your puffy lips. "The good girl who doesn’t disrespect her Daddy like this… Where is she at?” Your breath suddenly becomes hectic and he can tell you’re getting close.
Between the bittersweet words and the eager movements against your pussy, you slip into another mindset all too easily. He smiles when you finally look at him with glossy eyes and respond in a small voice, "'M right here..." He tilts his head at you expectantly and you squirm in his hold before repeating yourself louder. "I'm right here Daddy.."
"Oh, hi baby. Is my good girl back now?" You nod desperately in response, tightening your hands into fists against his chest as you grip around his fingers. "And is she ready to behave?"
"Yes, Daddy. 'M sorry.."
"Shhh, it’s okay baby. Now be good and cum on my fingers, kay?"
Hard’ Way; aka “fuck around and find out”
“You think you do that anyways?”
His eyebrows furrow and his tongue drags against the inside of his cheek. “Yeah? You’re really gonna do this right now? Right after I was nice enough to let you cum?” You gulp but stand your ground, making a scene to roll your eyes and lean back against the headboard.
He sits there silently, trying to give you another chance to come to your senses to realize that you’re butt ass naked in front of him and at his mercy. When you instead cock your head sideways with a bunch of attitude, he sighs loudly. His hands suddenly grips your ankles and drags you towards him. Then you’re flipped into your stomach and he renters you with no warning.
Your jaw drops and you moan loudly in surprise. His hands take turns slamming down against your ass cheeks over and over, seemingly getting harder with each slap. He sighs contently at the way you cling tightly around him with each smack, and he only stops once your cheeks are beet red and you’re trembling below him.
He hums to himself and taps the flesh, making it burn more and watching as you shake. "Such a pretty thing with such pretty reactions.. If only you were a good plaything and shut that pretty mouth for once."
He watches as your head snaps back towards him for a moment, the angry face and tears running down your face only make him smile at you. You feel his hips drag away from you, painfully slowly, until only the first centimeter or two of his tip are in you. You're taking a deep breath trying to regain your composure when a hand grabs a tight grip of your hair and pulls you backwards, his hips slamming forward at the same time.
A choke leaves you at the suddenness but he wastes no time, using the leverage in your hair to hold you in place as he fucks into you roughly. The aftermath of your previous orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel another one building up in no time. You melt into the sheets at the feeling, shaking as you almost tip over from one of the faster orgasms you've experienced, but Chris proves himself to be faster.
In an instant he's pulling out completely and holding you down preemptively for when you start thrash and whine. He waits until you stop kicking your feet at him, a tell tale sign that the tightness in your stomach finally faded, then he all of the sudden plunges back into you. The slide against your walls is rough, but you can’t deny how well it’s breaking down your resolution.
He uses the hand in your hair to tilt your head up at him when he leans forward to tower over you. It's very uncomfortable but it gives him the advantage as his narrowed eyes bore directly into you. He eventually changes positions, not wanting to actually hurt you like that, and he uses the new one to bring you to another orgasm. One that he, of course, ruins immediately with no hesitation.
This happens multiple times across the next 2 hours, to the point where you lost count of how many orgasms slipped away. It's not until you're sobbing beneath him and no longer kicking at him with each ruined orgasm, that he's flipping you onto your back and leaning down to kiss your tears away.
"Are you done now, love? You ready to be my good girl again?"
Your arms wrap around his neck and your lower lip trembles as you nod. He smiles, petting your hair and cooing at you before returning to his previous pace fucking you.
"There we go..."
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Taglist:
@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina
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junkissed · 10 months
Text
love thy neighbor
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member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!
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joshua should be asleep right now. 
really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 
but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.
maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.
the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.
really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 
and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.
except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.
having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 
he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.
a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.
so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.
he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.
oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)
but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)
so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 
but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 
after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.
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god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.
earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.
were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.
but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).
you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 
he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.
which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.
it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 
so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?
either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.
you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?
“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.
you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.
“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”
you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.
cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.
the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 
but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.
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when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.
of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 
pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.
unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.
he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 
on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?
on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.
if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.
in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.
joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.
but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.
he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.
he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 
but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.
but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.
so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.
hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 
he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.
he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.
okay
he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.
it’s nothing. don’t worry
joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 
so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.
you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”
finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”
he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.
“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”
“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.
“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.
you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.
“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”
you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”
“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”
“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 
he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”
“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”
“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”
“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”
his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”
“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 
joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.
“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”
he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”
you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”
“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”
“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.
now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”
“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.
“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”
you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”
his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.
you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.
“so about the walls thing—”
“hm?” he mumbles.
“—you can really hear everything?”
he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”
your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”
he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”
“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.
“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”
you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.
“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”
you pout. “that was only that one time!”
“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”
heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 
“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.
“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.
“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.
“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.
you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”
you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.
the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 
“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”
you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”
“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.
joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 
“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”
after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.
“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.
your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”
“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.
you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?
your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.
he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.
“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.
“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.
his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.
you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?
he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.
“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”
you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.
even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 
with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.
“joshua?”
“mhm?”
“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.
he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.
even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 
laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 
but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.
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