#this week cannot keep going like this. I will not make it to the weekend if it keeps being this bad. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsinthesky5 · 2 months

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down bad || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe go to your best friend’s wedding and it’s very clear that you both are soo down bad for each other ;)

a/n: bye i cannot believe i wrote this in 3.5 days because I was SO excited to write it. it’s just so 🤭 it’s definitely somethingggg 🤭🤭 also am i like one of the only people who thinks headband joe is peak joe. like his hair right now is amazing, but headband joe just makes me melt.

warnings: smut, language, and more smut, you both are perpetually horny

word count: 8.5 k

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“Joe!” You moaned as you felt the hot shower water dripping down your body. Joe’s head fell to the crook of your neck, sucking the soft skin which would be sure to leave a purple mark.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you cried as he pounded into you, your body starting to feel sore since you have had your arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist for a good half hour. He was helping you out by holding you up, but everything about what was happening in the shower made you feel sore, in a good way of course.

“Y/N…” he groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good,”.

You felt a familiar sensation in your stomach as he continued to thrust into you, his grip on your waist tightening.“I’m close,” you whisper as you throw your head back against the shower wall.

“Shit, hang on for me baby,” Joe said as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, pushing you up against the wall each time. You whined at the feeling of him pushing himself deeper inside of you, which you thought was impossible.

“Joe,” you whimpered again. “Right there,”. Joe’s rapid pace and deep thrusts were pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm, his cock grazing your g-spot.

You move one of your hands into his wet curls and push him closer to your face, capturing him in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you. One particularly rough thrust causes you to break away. You felt the rubber band in your core snap as were clenching around his cock, “Joe,” you moaned into his ear as you came.

“Y/N,” he moaned as he felt himself reaching his own pleasure. A few more thrusts later, you felt hot spurts of his cum fill your slick core as his head dropped down to your shoulder again, pressing soft kisses on your collarbone.

As the water continued to rain down on you both, Joe and You stood in each other's arms, your bodies entwined in the lingering heat of your love. You knew that in that moment, there was no place you would rather be than together, lost in the blissful embrace of the shower.

“I love you,” he pants while pressing a few more kisses on your lips.

“I love you too,” you say back with a smile.

A little while later, you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror in your pink robe as you inspect the new purple marks littered around your neck.

Joe walks up behind you, cupping the nape of your neck with his hand and rubbing it. “Sorry about that,” he softly says.

You look back at him and smile, “It’s Okay, I’m used to it by now,”.

What was supposed to be a quick shared shower before packing for your best friend's wedding in New York this weekend had turned into another one of your many unplanned romps.

“I should’ve known this would’ve happened if we showered together. Every damn time we say we’ll take a quick shower, I end up with a limp,” you giggle while leaning back into his warm body.

“Can’t keep my hands off of you. You know that,” he whispers into your ear lightly before lightly kissing the marks on your neck.

You playfully roll your eyes as you move forward and walk into Joe’s closet. You weren’t living with him just yet, but by the looks of his closet, you basically were.

You were bringing Joe as your plus 1 to your bestie’s wedding this weekend during the Bengals Bye Week and came over to Joe’s house to pack since he hated packing and needed you to keep him company. You had only been dating for 4 months but were already acting like a married couple according to your friend, and you were starting to see why she said so.

Flashback to a few weeks ago

“So, you’re bringing Joe?” she asked, a little surprised since you’d only been dating for a few months and you never brought a guy to your friends this early, especially since you lived a little far away from them.

“Mhm,” you responded while putting the phone on speaker as you were attempting to find your keys to Joe’s house in his driveway while he was away at practice.

“Already the plus 1? Damn, he has you whipped,” she giggles.

You roll your eyes and say, “Really funny Sophia,”.

“Am I on speaker? Your voice is echoing,” she questions.

“Yeah, I'm trying to find my keys,”.

She stays silent for a second before saying “You’re in his driveway aren’t you,” with a big smile she wished you could see.

“Maaaybee,” you trail.

“God, get married already. You’re always over at his place, just move in Mrs. Burrow,” she teases.

You laugh and say, “That’s because it’s most convenient. You know my apartment is a good half hour away from him. Besides, I thought you liked Joe,”

“Oh, I do, even though I've only met him a few times. I’ve never seen you happier, I'm just surprised you’re actually bringing him,” Sophia says.

“Honestly, me too. But it feels right. And he’s very excited to go with me which makes it even better,” you say as you finally find the keys.

End of flashback

Joe joins you in the closet and watches you pack your stuff for this weekend in your suitcase. Along with your basic necessities, you pack several party dresses, heels, your wedding day look, and a bunch of accessories.

“Damn, I never knew girls needed so much stuff for 3 days,” he laughed.

You turned around and gave him a look that had him immediately retreating.“Not that it’s a bad thing,” he says while raising his hands to soften the blow.

You break out into a laugh and say, “Calm down Joey, I’m jussst kidding,” as you walk over to him and kiss him before moving behind him to grab his suitcase.

“You’re turn,” you say as you drop the bag at his feet.

“I hate packing,” he frowns.

“That’s why I’m here baby. Here to keep ya company,” you smile before sitting in the comfy armchair in the corner.

He lets out a defeated sigh as he begins packing his things and you watch him the entire time. He was doing something so simple as packing but looked incredibly delicious while doing so. His wet hair flopping around, his bare chest on display, and his shorts hanging low on his waist and showing off his blonde treasure trail.

He catches you staring deeply at him and smirks. “Like what you see?”.

“You know I do,” you say as you cross your legs in the chair.

“You know, we coulddd go back to bed,” he offers.

“Nice try Burrow. Packing comes first.”

“Damn,” he whispers. He finishes packing all of his things for the weekend, similar to you. Basic necessities, some nice shirts, pants, and jackets; also packing his wedding day outfit and a few of his favorite shades.

“Always with the shades huh?” You tease.

“If you can bring 20 different kinds of earrings, I can bring my shades,” he deadpans.

“Alright alright, that’s fair,” you say as you get up and walk over to him to inspect his packing, making sure it’s not a complete mess. Satisfied with the way he packed his things, you move your face closer to his ear and whisper, “Now, if you’re done, is that ‘back to bed’ offer still on the table?”.

Joe immediately puts down his bag and reaches for your legs, picking you up bridal style, and rushes you to his bed. He softly drops you against the silk sheets before untying your robe and moving in between your legs.

“I guess that’s a yes,” you giggle and you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing him closer to your lips for a sweet kiss.

“We can’t be too rough though, I’m still a little sore from the shower and we have an early flight to New York tomorrow,”.

He plants another soft kiss on your lips, “No worries babe, soft and gentle is one of my specialties,”. You watch as he kisses down to your core, closing your eyes in anticipation of what is to come.

The next day

The ring of your alarm wakes you up early the next morning. You reach over and turn it off before turning to face Joe, who looks incredibly adorable and still asleep. His head was angled towards you, his messy bedhead hair was sprawled out against the pillow, his soft golden skin looked flawless, his lips curled up in a smile, and his bare chest was littered with a few purple marks from last night on display. He looked absolutely gorgeous at 6:00 am and you were jealous since you probably looked like a hot mess.

You leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, hoping to wake him up. Lucky for you, it worked.

“Morning sunshine,” you whispered.

He groans, barely opens his eyes, and mumbles “Morning Baby,”.

You felt your core throb at the sound of his morning voice but immediately gave yourself a mental lashing since you were sore from last night and you guys have a flight at 8:00 to NYC. His morning voice and bare chest combo made you weak in the knees so early in the morning.

After laying in bed for 10 minutes to give Joe a chance to fully wake up, you both hit the shower again. This time, actually showering with no funny business. Joe loads up the car to head to the airport but makes a quick pit stop at your favorite coffee shop to grab you both some breakfast.

You guys were on the way to the airport as you were reading off the events and itinerary for the weekend. “Okay, tonight we have the rehearsal dinner and then the party at the club after,” you say as you feel Joe’s hand migrate to your thigh, a familiar spot for it.

“Sounds like fun,” he says while giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Then tomorrow we have the wedding and reception. And then the next day she said she planned a brunch for close friends so it’ll just be a small group of people,” you conclude.

He nods his head as he continues to caress your thigh. “So what do you think of Steven?” You ask Joe. Steven is Sophia’s fiancée and Joe has only met him a handful of times.

“He’s a good guy,” he says. “We actually have a good bit in common and he’s a big football guy,” Joe says, turning the car into the airport entrance.

“He likes the Eagles right?” You question.

“Yup,” he says.

“That tracks, you know Sophia’s a big Eagles fan,”.

“Oh I know, so are you,” Joe says giving you a look.

You look back at him, a little offended, and say, “Aye, slow down buddy. Were. Were an Eagles fan. My loyalty has changed, and I look better in orange anyway,”

“Oh I know,” he smirks, his mind flashing back to all the times he’s seen you in your adorable little gameday outfits. You and Joe had been dating since a bit before the season started and had been getting to know each other throughout the summer. When the first game of the season rolled around, Joe insisted that you come and watch him play. You were a little hesitant at first since you knew that a lot of people would be there, many of whom would notice a random girl in Joe Burrow’s suite, but ultimately said yes because you wanted to support your boyfriend in any way possible.

Your first gameday outfit consisted of a black Bengals-themed baseball jersey which had ‘Burrow’ and ‘9’ on the back and ‘Bengals’ on the front. You left the buttons open and had a white crop top on underneath, with your favorite jean shorts. He loved your first gameday outfit, but the accessories made it even better. You had gotten an iced-out ‘9’ necklace and a vintage Bengals baseball cap you had on backward to pull the look together. You had him drooling the entire day and he couldn’t wait to get you alone, and when he did, you could hardly think or walk straight after.

Flashback to Week 1

You were sitting inside the Burrow suite while the boys were warming up on the field before changing into uniforms. You were scanning the field to hopefully get a glimpse of your boyfriend but couldn’t find him. It's been about an hour since you drove over with his parents and hadn’t gotten a chance to see Joe yet, and you were feeling a little sad because you thought you’d have to wait till the end of the game.

You heard the suite door open as you were trying to find your lipgloss in your bag and thought it was just his parents coming back from their tailgate. You felt a big pair of hands wrap around your waist and a warm mouth press a kiss on your cheek.

You let out a shriek and immediately turned around, panicking because you thought it was some random creep, but it was in fact just your boyfriend.

“Woah Y/N. Calm down, it’s just me,” Joe soothes.

You relax your muscles and let out a sigh, “Whew, I thought some rando creep found their way into the suite,”.

“Nah, just me,” he laughs.

You furrow your brows, slightly confused at what he is doing up here, “Wait, why aren’t you down there?” you say as you point to the field.

“I just had to make sure you were doing okay. I know this is all new for you and I want you to feel as safe and relaxed as possible,”.

Your eyes soften at his response, “Awww that’s so sweet,” you say while wrapping your arms around his neck, a whiff of sweat making you grimace. “Ohhh that lovely football smell,”.

“Sorry about that,” he says while pulling you in for a kiss.

He pulls away after a few seconds, observing your adorable gameday outfit that he was seeing for the first time. His eyes got stuck on the ‘9’ necklace. “And that is how people will know you’re my girl,” he says while touching the necklace.

“Glad you like the fit,” you smile.

“Oh, I love the fit. I could get used to this,” he winks.

“Me too,” you say as your eyes travel around the room, taking in the feeling that this could very well be a constant thing in your life from now on.

Joe looks at the time and his face drops, “I gotta go get ready now,”.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine Joe,” you say while rubbing the back of his neck.

He lets out a sigh, “Okay, but if you need anything, and I mean anything, ask my parents or come sit down by the locker room if things get overwhelming,”.

“Okayy,”. “Now go back down there before they accuse me of hogging their star QB,” you tease.

“Really funny babe,” he says while pulling you in for a hug. He pulls away before giving your forehead a sweet kiss and walking towards the door to head back to the field. “Knock ‘em dead shiesty,” you yell as he gives you a smile before leaving the suite.

Although you were anxious about being noticed by thousands of people, you were having the time of your life. As time passed, you became more and more engaged in the game, screaming and shouting whenever Joe would throw a dime or a big-time play would happen. You didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought anymore and were not afraid to show people that you were his girl. And Joe noticed. Each time he would look up at the suite, he would see you jumping up and down with his family and looking incredibly focused on him; this was the ultimate motivator for him because he knew his girl was watching.

End of flashback

Joe parked the car in the lot while you got all your stuff together before boarding his private jet to New York.

“Ahh, I can never get tired of this,” you sigh as you slip off your Uggs and lay back onto the cushioned chair. Joe drops down onto the seat across from you and immediately pulls your legs into his lap, massaging your feet.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles while giving you a warm smile.

You brush your hair out of your face before sending him a flying kiss, “You are even cuter,”.

You both ended up taking a power nap during the short flight to New York and woke up about an hour before you landed. Since you had some time to kill, Joe pulled out his Nintendo Switch and convinced you to play a round of smash-bros with him.

“Noooo,” you whined as you just lost for the 2nd time in a row. Joe let out another laugh as he watched you struggle to digest that you sucked at Smash-Bros.

“You’re laughing now, but once it’s time for Mario Kart, it is game over Burrow,” you growl.

“Maybe, but at least I put up a fight in Mario Kart. You basically gave up halfway,” he laughed as he placed the controller down and grabbed his phone, opening his notes app to add to the win-loss ratio list you had going. You and Joe both had somewhat competitive natures and loved to play silly little games whenever you could, so you suggested you keep a tally of how many times each of you won or lost a game of anything. At the end of the year, the loser has to do whatever the winner wants them to do for a whole day.

“What’s the tally right now?” You asked.

“34-45. I’m winning,” he smirks.

“Damn,” you whisper. “It’s okay. I still have all of this month to get myself back on top,”.

“You can be on top whenever you want, just say the word,” he teases while motioning to his dick.

Your eyes widen at his words as you grab a pillow from behind you and chuck it at his face. “Are you always horny?”.

“Well, when I'm with my drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend, I can’t help it,” he shrugs.

Drop dead gorgeous? You looked like a sack of potatoes right now, wearing one of his old LSU sweatshirts that was too big on you, black sweats, messy hair in a claw clip, and your glasses on. “Joe, I look like a mess right now,” you say as you pull the hood of his sweatshirt over your head.

“Well if you’re a mess, you’re the mess I want,” his face immediately scrunching up. “I don’t think that came out the way I thought it would,”.

You smiled, got up from your chair, and moved over to his lap, pressing a soft kiss on his smooth cheek. “I know what you mean,”.

A few hours later

After your plane lands, you both head over to Joe’s New York penthouse you’ll be staying for the weekend. You both unpack all your things and start to get ready for the night.

You’re finishing up your makeup as you watch Joe walk into the bathroom, seemingly looking for his hairbrush. You look at him up and down in the mirror and he looks incredible. He’s wearing his black jeans, a plain white short-sleeve tee which showed off his bulging muscles, and his navy blue jacket in hand. He walks over to the sink and runs his hands through his hair, like usual, to perfect it.

“Can’t find your brush?” You question while fixing your hair.

“Nah, but it’s fine. This should do it,” he says as he pushes a few stray strands back. He turns around and feels slightly flushed as he looks you up and down. You were wearing a short baby pink dress that hugged your body in all the right places, strappy white heels, and an ensemble of jewelry which was all gifted to you by Joe.

“Baby..” he breathes out, struggling to move from where he was standing. You looked absolutely sexy and he felt like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him, much like how he’d feel when that happened out on the field.

You do a little twirl to show off your outfit, “You think it looks good?”.

“Good?” He says as he walks over to you. “Looks fucking amazing,” he mumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss, one hand cradling your head and the other migrating to your ass. He gives it a delicate squeeze, making you moan into the kiss.

You pull away and press your forehead against his, “We gotta behave tonight Joe,” you giggle.

“Yes ma’am,” he says before giving you another kiss.

You both finish up and then head out to the wedding venue just outside of the city for the dinner. You and Joe walk into the venue, hand in hand, and you’re in awe of how beautifully everything is decorated. The warm fairy lights that were all around the room made everything glow and highlighted the most captivating elements.

You looked ahead and caught a glimpse of Sophia and released yourself from Joe’s grasp, immediately running over to her.

“There’s the bride!” You yell.

Her face instantly lights up as she sees you. She runs to meet you halfway, tackling you in a tight hug. “I misseddd youuu! Cincy stole you away,” she squeals as she sways you back and forth.

Joe walks over behind you both, smiling at the cute interaction.

Sophia opens her eyes and sees Joe standing behind you and lets go of you. “And here is the reason why Cincinnati stole you away,” she teases.

“Guilty,” Joe says while giving her a salute.

“Hey Joe,” she says while giving him a friendly hug.

“Hey Sophia,” he smiles, hugging her back. You have a huge grin on your face as you watch your two favorite people get along, it’s the best feeling in the entire world.

“What are you smiling at?” Sophia questions as she pulls away to wrap her arm around your shoulder.

“Just happy that my favorite people get along,” you sing song.

“Remember, she was mine first Burrow,” Sophia giggles, causing Joe to scoff and gently pull you into him as Sophia’s fiancée walks in behind her.

“Well, I’m incredibly lucky to have her now, and hopefully forever,” he says as he stares lovingly into your eyes. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst at his words, add to the fact that his strong grip on your waist was making you feel butterflies in all the right places. You felt yourself getting lost in his deep blue eyes as you both were just stuck staring at each other.

Sophia smiles at the sweet words that came out of Joe’s mouth for you and notices the way he’s looking at you and holding you. It’s like you were the only person in the room, like you were a diamond. “Aye, snap out of it love-birds,” Sophia claps as her fiancée joins you all.

“Whoops, Sorry about that,” you blush. “Hey Steven!,”.

“Sup, Steven,” Joe says as he lets go of you to greet your friend's Fiancée.

You all have a small reunion and spend a few minutes catching up and talking about wedding details before the other guests start to arrive. The rehearsal dinner was great as you got to catch up with your old friends from home and got the chance to finally introduce Joe formally to some of them.

Currently, You and Joe were sitting together in your own little corner at the table as a few speeches were being delivered, his hand once again on your thigh, and your hands wrapped around his, softly caressing his golden skin. You leaned your head onto his shoulder as you melted into his touch.

“You alright?” He whispers, noticing the change in your body language.

“I’m amazing,” you whisper back.

“Good, we still have a long night ahead of us,” he laughs before planting a few kisses on your forehead.

About an hour later, the wedding party makes its way back into the city to a club in the Upper East Side.

Loud music and bright strobe lights fill the room as you take another shot of tequila at the bar with your friends. Joe was across the room with Steven and the rest of the boys, also taking shots but less frequently than you and the girls. You’re slightly buzzed, maybe a little more than slightly actually.

“Come on, let’s go dance,” Sophia yells as she pulls you into the dance floor.

You and the girls start dancing in the crowd, having the most fun when you hear the song change, which immediately causes you and Sophia to scream.

“This is our song!” She screams. The song had just changed to ‘Blow’ by Kesha, a song that you had very fond memories of in high school.

“Oh yeah,” you yell as you throw your head back and hands in the air.

Joe watches you carefully from across the room as you dance with your friends, looking incredibly stunning and sexy while doing so. The tent in his pants was a sure sign that he was going to struggle for a few minutes. His eyes never leave you as he sips his drink while still talking to the boys.

You keep dancing around with your girls as you feel a pair of eyes watching you. You turn around to where Joe was and obviously, it was him. You give him a playful nod and stare right back at him, still dancing like nothing mattered.

“Damn, Y'all can’t be away from each other even for a little,” Sophia laughs.

“I think I’m torturing him by being out here, especially dressed like this,” you giggle.

“Y’all are soo Down bad,” she yells but you barely notice what she said as you hear the song change again. This time, to one of your and Joe’s favorite songs, ‘Feel So Close’ by Calvin Harris.

You immediately look back at him, motioning him to come over with just a simple look. He smiles at the song change and doesn’t hesitate to get off the barstool, places his drink on the counter, and walks over to the dance floor. You turn around and keep dancing as you suddenly feel a familiar warmth behind you. Joe presses himself into your back as you dance back into him, making his boner even worse than before.

You both were caught up in the moment as the loud music and flashing lights created a special scene around you both. Although you were in a room filled with people, right now it just felt like you two out there, dancing the night away. Joe placed his hands on you and slid them down your waist as you threw your head back into his chest.

You felt the tent in his pants on your ass, causing you to let out a giggle, “Got you worked up, didn’t I?”

“You look amazing,” he whispers into your ear before fully wrapping his arms around your waist, turning you so you could face him. You were a little breathless as you closed the space between you both, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss while your hands wrapped around his neck.

“Let’s get outta here,” he says breathlessly as he pulls away. You nod your head as he lets go of you. You walk over to where Sophia is and let her know that you’re heading out and that you’ll see her tomorrow.

“Me and Joe are going to head out,” you pant. She gives you a smirk and says, “Mhm, called it,”. You’re confused by her words, “Called what?”.

“You both couldn’t even last 2 hours in the club before getting so worked up over each other that you’d have to leave before the party was over,” she giggled.

You felt a little red as she said that. Damn, she was right. You don’t know what it was about Joe that made you act like this or what about you that made him act like this, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

“If you want me to stay, I can,” you say as you brush a few stray pieces of hair out of your face.

“No, it’s alright,” she smiles. “It’s getting pretty late anyways, you guys should go rest,” she says.

“Are you sure?”.

“Positive. He makes you happy Y/N, I can see it. Go have fun, but not too much fun,” she winks.

You pull her in for a hug and tell her that you’d absolutely help her get ready for the big day tomorrow morning.

You make your way back over to Joe, who has moved closer to the exit. He grabbed your hand and placed it in his, “I called Uber, you ready?”.

“Yup,” you say while giving him a kiss.

Both of you were wrapped up together in the backseat of the Uber. Your head once again on his shoulder, and his resting on top of your head. His arm was wrapped around you, and his hand was absentmindedly softly rubbing your arm. Your right leg was wedged in between his as his free hand was rubbing up and down your lower leg. Everything about this was comforting for you both. It felt so peaceful and natural.

Once you’ve arrived at the apartment, Joe helped you out of the Uber since you were a bit too drunk and were wobbling around; he was terrified that you’d fall in the heels you were wearing.

He slowly helped you into the elevator and you moved to stand behind him. He pressed the number of the floor you were supposed to be on and immediately turned back around to face you as the door closed.

He looks into your eyes for a few heartbeats before leaning in and capturing your lips in a delicate kiss which you both grin into. Once again, your hands find their home wrapped around his neck, and you stay like this until the door opens again.

A few minutes later, you both are back inside the apartment and are in the process of getting unready. You feel a gush of wetness pool your core as you catch a glimpse of Joe’s bare chest as he just got out of the shower. He looked so desirable and his bare chest always got you worked up.

You walk over to him, take his hand, and lead him back to the bed. “What are you doing?” He questions.

“What I’ve been wanting to do all night,” you say as you push him back onto the bed, straddling his waist. You capture his lips in a fiery kiss as his hands grip your waist again. You slowly grind on his shorts, making him way more horny than he was before. You push your hand down to his dick and start palming him through his shorts when he suddenly flips you both over so that he’s on top, leaving you a little dizzy.

“Hm?” You question his sudden change of mind.

“You can do that another time, I wanna make you feel good tonight,” he says.

You don’t have a chance to argue with him since he starts to peel off your tank top; his lips finding the sweet spot on your neck, making you flutter your eyes as you let out a whimper.

He moves down and presses a few wet kisses on your belly before getting right to business, sliding off your shorts and underwear.

“Oh,” you moan as you feel him blow on your core which was already wet from earlier.

He lets out a laugh before he moves closer to your core, attacking your folds with sloppy kisses. Your hands find themselves in his hair again as you pull on the strands. “Joe,” you whimper.

“You’re okay,” he whispers as he goes back to lapping at your slick core. He takes one of his fingers and pushes them inside your heat which makes you let out another moan. The combination of his mouth and fingers, along with the alcohol in your system was making you feel like you were levitating. “Fuck,” you whined.

He continued to pump his finger into your core as his mouth attached itself to your clit, rhythmically sucking on it. He inserts another finger, stretching you out even more which causes you to arch your back. His free hand pushes your belly back down to the bed as he continues to attack your core.

“Baby,” you moaned while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt a familiar warmth in your lower belly, signaling that you were very close.

“I’m close,” you whispered, pushing your head further back into the pillow. You continue to pull on his hair which causes him to groan against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body.

His fingers pick up the pace as his mouth is replaced by his thumb. He rubs circles around your clit while continuing to pump into you, which intensifies the entire experience. A few seconds later, you’re cumming hard and fast. “Joe,” you loudly moaned. He removed his fingers from your core and his mouth begins lapping up your juices.

He helps you come down from your high by pressing delicate kisses around your core and inner thighs. After a few minutes, he walks into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth to clean you up. Also, bringing you Advil and water to get ahead of the morning hangover. You’re too drained to move so he cleans you up and wraps a blanket around you while he makes sure everything is locked up. He joins you back in bed and pulls you closer to him, “You comfy?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you say sleepily. He presses one final kiss to your forehead before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

You stay awake for a few moments, thinking about how lucky you were to have someone who cared so much about you and always made sure that you were comfortable. He was perfect for you, and you couldn’t get enough of him. Sure, you two were absolutely insatiable for each other, but you also had a healthy balance between lust and love that kept your relationship steady, strong, and tender.

The next day

The next morning rolls by fairly quickly. You get up early to go over to Sophia’s hotel to help her get ready for the ceremony and leave Joe to get a few more hours of sleep, assuring him that you’ll be back in time to get ready with him.

“Babe, have you seen my watch?” Joe asks as he walks into the bathroom, his mouth agape as he sees your completed wedding look. His eyes travel down your body, the slit in the dress showing off your bare leg; the black material of the dress hugged your body in all the right spots, especially your ass. He felt particularly weak when he saw the v-cut neckline which highlighted your perfectly round breasts.

“I think it was on the entry table,” you say turning to face him as you get your last earring on. Your eyes widen at his completed wedding look; black pants and a silk maroon shirt with his signature shades.

“You look stunning,” he says while keeping absolutely still. His heart was racing at how gorgeous you looked. Even though he got to see your beauty every day, he would still lose his mind every time.

“Right back at ya,” you wink causing him to let out a chuckle.

After putting the finishing touches on your look, you both head over to the venue for the ceremony.

It was a wonderful ceremony. You and Joe were seated towards the front so you had an amazing view of the whole thing. You both were sitting close to each other, his hand in yours. You were struggling to hold back your tears the entire time since you were watching your best friend since elementary school get married, and when Joe looked over and saw, he melted. You were also tearing up at the thought of imagining yourself getting married. You would have all of this one day and you wondered if it would be with the man sitting next to you, you were praying that it would be with the man next to you.

He raised your hands to his lips, pressing a few soft kisses to them to make sure you were okay.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him.

“I love you more,” he mouthed back, not knowing why you were feeling extra emotional all of a sudden.

A few hours later the wedding reception had begun, and you both had found yourself in your own little corner once again. You were absentmindedly rubbing Joe’s thigh while you both were focused on all the wedding speeches, and it was getting him worked up. Once it was time for your speech, Joe had lost it. He watched as you swayed your perfect hips, hips that he loved to grab onto, over to the stage. Your soft skin was glistening in the spotlight and your perfect breasts were mocking him.

“Now’s not the time,” Joe thought to himself as he felt himself getting hard.

You wrapped up your special speech for your bestie with a toast to the newlyweds and made your way back to your boyfriend, who looked like he was struggling to sit comfortably.

“Are you okay?” you giggle. All you get in response is a blank stare.

“What?” you question.

He lets out a sigh and fixes his posture, “You in this damn dress, is driving me fucking insane,” he blurts out.

You stare at him for a few moments, thinking about how funny it was that he was going gaga over you right now, just like how you were drooling at his sexy self. “Well, you in this whole look is making me insanely horny,” you whisper into his ear.

He clears his throat as a way to compose himself. He thinks about if anyone would notice if you both stepped away for a few minutes. “There’s a bathroom around the corner,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen at his offer. You both rarely had sex in public places like this, usually finding pleasure in your home, car, or anywhere private. But right now, you honestly could care less.

As the wedding reception raged on outside, You and Joe sneaked away to the bathroom for a moment alone. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the candles casting a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Your eyes locked, filled with desire and longing. Without saying a word, Joe closed the distance between your lips, capturing them in a hungry kiss. Your bodies pressed together, his hands roaming freely over your plush skin.

You moaned softly as Joe lifted you up onto the countertop, his hands sliding up your dress to caress the smooth skin of your thighs. You push your hands into his curls as his lips travel down your neck, causing you to let out a moan. “Yeah,” you whimper.

Your clothes were quickly discarded, leaving you both naked and exposed to each other. You push your lips against him again as you reach down and slide your hand up and down his dick. You guide it to your core and leave the rest to him. You moaned in ecstasy as he buried himself deep inside you.

Your head falls back against the mirror as your legs hook around his waist. “Shit,” you moan as Joe moves his face into the crook of your neck, pressing wet kisses along your collarbone. His steady pace was doing wonders but you needed him to go deeper and faster.

“Joe,” you whimpered, causing him to move his face back into your view. “Fuck me harder,”.

“Are you sure?”.

“Yeah,” you moaned.

He smiles and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as he quickens his pace, rapidly thrusting into your slick core. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom as you were drowning in pleasure. “Harder,” you whimpered. The sounds coming out of your mouth were driving Joe insane as he thrusted deeper and deeper into your pussy, completely forgetting you were in a public bathroom.

“Y/N,” he groaned as he gripped your waist tighter, surely leaving a few bruises.

“Fuck Joe,” you moaned, this time a little louder. Each thrust sends you further back into the mirror and your lower half becomes slicker and slicker by the second. “You feel so good,” you whisper.

Joe smiles as he plunges into you harder and harder each time. You felt a familiar sensation build in your belly as he pounded into your heat, “I’m so close,” you whispered.

“Fuck, me too,” he moans as he reaches down and starts to rub circles around your wet clit. You whimper at the sudden contact, eventually setting off your release. Your walls clench around his cock as you let out a series of pornographic moans into his ear.

He continues to pound into you, harder than before, trying to reach his own pleasure. You whimper at his movements and your hands start to scratch up and down his bare back.

“Y/N..” he moaned.

“Mm,” you whined. A few seconds later, you felt his release coat your walls. You both were trying to catch your breaths and regain your senses for a few moments before Joe slid out of you. He cleans you up first and helps you put your clothes back on. Then, you clean him up and help him fix his outfit just like he did for you. You look into the mirror while fixing your hair and smile at how well fucked-out you look, and look back over to your boyfriend, also looking well fucked.

Before leaving the bathroom, he pulls you in for a hug, whispering a few sweet nothings into your ear and telling you how amazing you were.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, causing you to smile against his chest and hug him tighter.

You walk back into the reception with a slight limp, pretending as nothing happened, and tell Joe you are going over to Sophia for a bit. Joe nodded and said he’d be grabbing you both something to eat.

You walk over to her table and slide into the chair next to her, flashing her a giddy smile.

“How does it feel to be a Wifey,” you questioned.

She laughs, “Very Fun,” while looking over at you. She looks carefully at you, noticing your smudged lipgloss and slightly messy hair. Your radiant smile and limp told her everything she needed to know.

“Looks like you had a little bit of your own fun,” she winks. “I saw that limp,”. Your face immediately turns red at the fact that she figured it out. How could she not? This girl has known you longer than anyone, of course she could tell when something was up, good or bad.

You heave a sigh, “I don’t know what about him makes me so-,” you pause as you can’t find the right word to finish the sentence.

“Down Bad?” Your friend says.

You stay silent for a few seconds, “Yeah. Down Bad.” You smile as you look over at your boyfriend who was currently balancing two plates of food in his hand for you both.

“I see the way he looks at you, you know. It’s like you’re the only person in the room for him,” she says. “He looks at you like you are the most valuable diamond,”.

You blush while you think about the countless times you’d find Joe deeply staring at you whenever you were talking. “Yeah, he does do that doesn’t he,”.

“And I also see the way you look at him,” she adds.

“What do you mean, how do I look at him?”.

“Well other than looking like you want to pounce on him every 5 minutes,” she giggles. “You look at him like he’s the one,”.

You are surprised by what she says. The one? You’d only been officially dating for 4 months, was he really the one? He made you feel things that you haven’t felt in forever and even things you’d never felt before. He made you feel seen and he made you feel loved. You were so lucky to have found something special with him, but was he going to be the one? Did he even want you to be the one?

“Sophia, we’ve been dating for 4 months,” you nervously laugh.

“And?” She questions. “I know it’s early, but I’ve seen you look happier with Joe in the past few months than I saw you with your ex who you were with for 3 years. He really really really loves you and I can tell that you feel the same way”.

“He’s the one, Y/N. Trust me, I can feel it,” she adds as you look back over at Joe, who flashes you a warm smile, setting off butterflies in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you say softly. Maybe he was the one. God, you wanted him to be the one.

You hear her let out a loud laugh, “See what I mean! Even across the room, look at you two!”.

You turn over and playfully push her arm. “Y’all are sooo down bad for each other,” she teases. You break out into a fit of laughter as you spend a few more moments talking to her about the wedding and the brunch tomorrow before getting up and joining your boyfriend once again.

“What was that about?” He questions.

“Ohhh nothing,” you say. The playful tone in your voice makes Joe slightly suspicious but he decides not to question it. Festive music fills the room as you both sit and eat your delicious meals while watching all the couples fill the dance floor.

Joe hears the song change from upbeat to slow; “Can’t Help Falling In Love,” playing softly in the background. This song was another song that was special for you both.

He meets your eyes before standing up. You were confused at why he was getting up since you were both comfy the way you were sitting now, and you both certainly were not about to dance. Joe never danced in public as the only time he would slow-dance with you was in private. You didn’t mind though, it felt more natural and intimate that way. The song currently playing was one of your favorites to dance to.

He extends his hand out and says, “Y/N, would you like to dance with me?”.

You feel like he’s messing with you so you don’t say anything for a few seconds, but he remains in the same position so he means business.

“I would love to dance with you,” you say as he grabs his hand and leads you to the dance floor.

His hands wrap around your waist as yours hang from his neck, and your warm bodies find themselves pressed together once again.

“You look gorgeous,” he says quietly while swaying you to the beat of the song.

You blush, “You’ve told me that like 50 times today,”.

“And I’ll do it 50 more,” he says while raising his brows.

“Only you could be so romantic not even an hour after rearranging my guts,” you whisper as he pulls you closer, if that was even humanly possible.

“You just have this effect on me Y/N,” he says. “Got me feeling down bad every minute of every day,”.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “Have you been talking to Sophia?” you question.

“I mean, Yeah, it is her wedding,” he says while shrugging his shoulders.

“No, I mean about us?” you ask.

“A little, but not anything in particular. Is something wrong?” he says, his face turning solemn.

“No, No. Nothings wrong. It’s just she’s been going on the entire weekend about how down bad we are for each other,” you giggle, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.

“To be fair, she isn’t wrong. You make me do things and feel things that I never knew I could be capable of,” he says, once again staring deeply into your soft eyes. Your heart beating so incredibly fast as it felt like it was just you two dancing on the floor.

“Joe,” you whisper, your face moving closer to his.

“I’m so lucky to have you Y/N. You have no idea,” he says before pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

Your lips fit perfectly against his as you stay like that for a few seconds before breaking away, “I can’t help falling in love with you,” you say, reciting the lyrics of the song playing while you two are dancing.

“I love you, so fucking much. If this is what they call down bad, then fuck yes I’m down bad for the love of my life,” he says.

A huge grin appears on your face, “Love of your life?” you question.

“Mhm,” he says as he pushes your head into his chest. “Take this as a preview of what our first dance will be like at our wedding,” he says. “Same song and everything,”.

You feel tears pool in your eyes as you look back up at him, “Really? You wanna marry me?”.

He smiles and says, “Down the road, absolutely. You are exactly what I’ve been waiting for in my life. If you think I’m gonna let that go, maybe I need to do a better job of showing it”.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode. He wanted to be the one just as much as you did.

“If you were to do more to show your love than you already did, I think I would drop dead,” you tease.

“Hey, that is not funny,” he deadpans.

“Oops, Sorry Mr. Serious,” you say as you kiss his cheek.

“Well, for future reference, I like princess cut,” you smile, causing him to break his serious expression and let out a hearty laugh. Your head finding its way back to his chest as you continued dancing.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them entwined in a dance that seemed to last for eternity. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, but to them, it was as if they were the only ones in the world.

As the song came to an end, they held each other closer, never wanting to let go. The warmth of their love enveloped them, filling their hearts with a sense of pure bliss and contentment.

And in that magical moment, as they whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears, they knew that their love would always be the music that guided them through life's dance, forever intertwined and inseparable.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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f1girliefics · 2 months

Text

In Love with a Red Flag

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: To say that you hated him wasn’t accurate. But you didn’t like him. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a distance from. And yet, he will be the closest to you.

A/N: I realise this idea is not unique, shout-out to all the other amazing writers who wrote a similar piece!

“Ferrari PR team came up with a solution to solve the problem. Together with the Mercedes PR team, we agreed that the best course of action would be to have you and Charles play pretend.”

You looked at Toto in disbelief.

You and Charles? Play pretend?

You knew that due to Ferrari’s latest issues with their cars, along with Mercedes’ own issues became such an issue that the teams began to lose fans.

So, PR being PR sat down and came up with a wicked idea.

Having you and Charles date, well, fake date.

According to both teams, you would become the next phenomenon and the fans would come right back.

All Toto could do was simply nod.

You let out a long sigh.

You have always tried your best to avoid Charles. He was exactly the type of guy you kept a good distance from. You knew about his method of dating.

The women he dated and how often he changed girlfriends. It was a huge red flag.

Much like his car, red all over.

You turned and looked at Charles who was just as surprised if not more than you.

“I will be looking forward to working with you, Charles.” You said with a smile as you looked at him.

You were on a yacht with him.

Soft launch as the teams called it. They knew the paparazzi would be watching. All you had to do was to act all lovely-dovely but not do too much.

You two being on the same boat would be enough.

With an ice cream in one hand, you headed to the deck, trying to get a little tan during your weekend off.

Charles soon joined you, sitting down next to you, you moved a bit closer to him.

“There’s a guy on the boat in front of us, he has a huge camera, and yet he thinks we didn’t notice him.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Charles smiled and so did you. “You know last year… in Hungary… you had that press event with the fans.”

“Oh, yeah! That was fun, I even wore a traditional dress. Kalocsai, I believe it’s called.”

“That one, yes. I remember, what about it?”

“I remember you being so… beautiful.”

“Thank you. But where did this come from?”

“You avoid me. I noticed you avoid me and Carlos. Why? Do you hate Ferrari that much?”

“Red is not really my colour.” You say, avoiding his eyes. “Especially not red flags.” You said before you got up and headed into the yacht.

The paparazzi sure got a nice picture.

The same afternoon, you were all over the news. You did it. One step closer to the finish line.

You thought of this as if it was another race.

You just had to get to the finish line. This time around, you didn’t care about the placements.

You just wanted this to be over with.

The next time you had to go out with Charles was during a charity event. You were given a beautiful silver dress to wear while Charles was in a black suit.

He looked good. Probably way too handsome for his own good.

You didn’t like how he didn’t make it easy to keep a distance. He was kind, attentive, and really fucking handsome.

He had an arm around you at all times.

“I will bring us something to drink.”

“A gin tonic would be lovely.” You replied and he nodded.

This was the only time he let you out of his arms. And if you were honest. You kinda missed it.

No.

This can’t be.

You cannot fall for him. You will not!

Toto walked over to you, complimenting your dress and dedication.

“This little PR thing works like a charm. Our team gained almost half a million new followers since last week.” Of course that is all he would care about. For now, at least, Toto had a sweet spot for you so it was only a matter of time for him to save you from this.

Fans come and go.

But your contract with him was clear. And even without that, he liked you very much. He often said you are like a younger sister to him.

“Good to know at least the plan worked.” Was your reply?

“And what about you and Charles?” He asked and you were a bit taken aback. “You two play your parts a little too well.”

“Oh please, like I would fall for a guy like him.” You replied and took a sip from your glass.

Toto only laughed a little.

You however failed to notice that Charles heard everything you said.

He simply paid his part and handed you your new drink.

On your way back home, Charles was sitting in the back of the limo with you.

“What did Toto say to you?” He asked suddenly and you turned from the window to look at him.

“He said our teams gained a lot of new fans. He looked excited about it.”

“Anything else?”

“Hm?”

“Did he ask about anything else?”

“No, he then just started to talk about the new sponsors.”

“I see.” Was his simple reply.

The next planned date was a dinner in a restaurant.

You got to wear casual clothes and feel like a human again.

You planned on eating possibly the best food you can find.

So you ordered a nice juicy hamburger with fries and a huge lemonade. Then you ordered a steak with mashed potatoes.

Charles looked rather impressed that you could eat so much.

If you were honest, you had a great time with him. You two were talking a lot. He showed you a side which not many people could see.

“Can I ask you something?” He said, suddenly becoming very serious.

“Sure.”

“When you were talking with Toto last week, you said something which really stuck with me. You said you wouldn’t fall for a guy like me. What did you mean by that?”

“I-“ this took you off guard. Should you be honest? But you also didn’t want to lie. “Everyone knew about your dating life. It was no secret and… it is a huge red flag.”

“Red flag?”

“Yes. You date one woman then you date their friend… it is a red flag.”

“And that’s why you avoided me?”

“Yes.” You said right away, which probably wasn’t the best.

You could see your words hurt him.

You wanted to say something else but then he suddenly stood up and excused himself to the bathroom.

You should have said something.

But you didn’t. And it hunted you for the upcoming weeks.

“You did good, Y/N. P3!”

“Thank you, Toto!” You drove another round, smiling and waving at the fans even if they couldn’t see you.

Max, P1, Charles, P2 and you, P3. It was a good race.

But you felt so awkward around Charles.

As they took you to your interviews, you suddenly stopped Charles.

“Charles.”

“We have an interview to do.” He wanted to walk away but you caught him.

“I misjudged you. I wanted to tell you back at the restaurant. I misjudged you. I had a great time with you, even if it was all pretend. I needed you to know.” Your assistant came to get you to see why you weren’t coming, so you headed to the interview.

Charles soon followed you.

You had one week left.

One week of fake dating.

The last seven days.

Why did it make you sad?

You should have known, but ultimately, you fell in love.

You fell in love with a red flag.

And you wanted to tell him, but how?

It was all too much.

For the last week, the teams came up with a simple idea, something to give a base to your upcoming breakup.

It was meant to be easy.

You should act like you hate each other, possibly even argue a little here and there. You two should look like you two hate one another.

But, it didn’t exactly go as planned.

You smiled too much, you laughed too hard. It didn’t look like you were a couple ready to break up, you looked like the exact opposite.

You were a couple fully in love.

At least you were.

You two ended up in a café, enjoying your coffee and tea while you had a small conversation.

“What you said, before the interview last week. I understand how my actions can seem, and how my dating life looks from the eyes of an outsider. It looks bad… very bad and I don’t blame you or anyone for thinking that way about me. But I’m thankful for your kindness. It took me a while to realize that I used to do those things because none of them was the one I was looking for. But you… you are so different from them. I understand this might be sudden but I cannot be the only one who feels this way.”

“You are not.” You interrupted him, hoping to ease his inner dilemma. You smiled at him as he visibly let out a long sigh.

He moved closer to you, and you leaned into him, pulling him down for a sweet and short kiss.

You could almost hear the cameras click. Instead, all you could focus on was his scent, his smile and his taste.

You sat back down in your chair, enjoying the sun, smiling.

The next day you broke the news to your teams. Toto was the first to congratulate you.

He knew, of course, he would. He knew you and Charles would end up together. One way or another.

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles lecrelc #leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader

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azsazz · 26 days

Text

Glitz, Glam & Grand Prix

Formula One!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Set at the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you, as Ferrari's team Media Trainer, struggle with keeping both drivers in line.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,887

Notes: Back again with another F1 AU 💙 so obsessed with this trope tbh

Belongs to the Off Grid collection.

_________________________________________

“I am not wearing this,” Azriel says flatly, staring at the garment in his hand in horror. He’s holding the hanger hook between a pinched thumb and forefinger, like the newly designed sequined bomber jacket might jump off the holder and strangle him.

He might prefer that.

“Yes, you are,” you answer, distractedly. Your phone buzzes in your hand, another email coming through. Something about a calendar change with the scheduled interviews for the two drivers you’re in charge of for media training. “You’re going to put that jacket on, just like all of the other drivers are doing, and you’re going to march your ass over to the social media team and do what they ask without complaint.”

You cut your—secret—boyfriend a harsh look that matches your no-nonsense tone. He holds your look for all of four seconds before giving in, returning to his glower to the garment in his hand instead. It’s smart of him, choosing not to start with you while you’re in Media Training mode, not secret girlfriend mode where you shoot him teasing grins and cheeky glances behind everyone’s backs.

“Give it here, old man,” Dorian Havilliard says, swiping the coat from him. You cringe, offering Azriel an apologetic smile that looks more like a grimace when his hazel gaze swings wildly to meet yours. As if you can do something about the driver tasing him. Azriel looks like he’s about two seconds from trying to lay Dorian—Ferrari’s newest recruit—out flat.

“I’m not even that old,” Azriel mutters, giving up before the arguing can even begin. The drivers haven’t started off on a good foot, Azriel upset about the realization that he’s getting older in this sport, and the looming fear that the rookie is going to replace him for his Driver 1 spot. For Dorian, he’s too naive yet to understand that he can learn a thing or two from the veteran driver. “Can I fake a stomach bug to get out of this one, ba—(Y/N)?” Azriel stutters, quickly catching his mistake.

Your eyes widen, but thankfully, Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, too enraptured with the design on the back of the bomber. Three dice line the back in white sequins, and instead of regular pips, the black of the dice spells out the acronym F1LVGP: Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix.

It is pretty ugly, but you cannot wait to see your boyfriend in it.

Both drivers are set to shoot media in the very jackets that fans received with their purchase of tickets months ago. It’s going to be as gimmicky and cheesy as Azriel thinks it’s going to be, which is why you refrained from mentioning this specific part of the media tour to him this weekend.

“The fans are going to want to see you both in that jacket,” you explain, biting your lip at Dorian, who has zipped it up to his collarbones. It does look horrid, and there’s a part of you that wishes you could warn the social team about Azriel’s reluctant attitude. Hopefully, they don’t give him any props that might make him look even sillier. “It’s good for the team and the race. Plus, interaction gets us all paid, boys.”

Your phone pings with another important message, a call-in meeting with the Ferrari Public Relations team managers to develop key messages that align with the brand values, sponsor commitments, and team ethos.

With the two stubborn-minded drivers on your team, that part might prove to be difficult.

After that it’s crisis meetings with said drivers, training both Dorian and Azriel on how to efficiently deflect the potential damaging and sensitive questions about what happened in Brazil two weeks ago. Azriel is used to it, and as much as he hates the interview portion of his job, is trained well in answering these types of questions with tact and confidence.

Dorian, on the other hand, is still young and new to the team. The interviewers will no doubt single him out, sniffing out his fresh blood because he’s more likely to make a mistake. You already know that he’s a touch hot-headed when it comes to the obvious rift between the two Ferrari drivers, and if the interviewers pose a question that gives him room to get a word in about Azriel, you have no doubt that he’ll take it, even without realizing exactly how it could impact the team image.

You’re going to make sure that that doesn’t happen.

The rest of the weekend is planned out down to the minute. You’re not even sure you have a single free second to spend with Azriel.

Las Vegas is always exhausting.

“Hey, boss? When do we have some down time this weekend?” Dorian asks, as if he’s somehow reading your mind. You’re dreading this, having to tell a freshly turned twenty-one-year-old in Las Vegas for the first time that he’s not going to be able to go buck-wild. He’ll have to save that for a bye-week or a break. You’re here for business and racing this weekend, not strip-shows and high-hollers tables.

And while he may have an appearance at Omnia night club post-race on Sunday, you’ve tasked yourself with keeping an eye on the rookie, this weekend more so than during the rest of the races this season.

“Unlikely, Havilliard,” you answer, finally looking up from the calendar on your phone. He should really know by now how this all works—it’s race 22 for Mother’s sake—that everything is all work and no play until after the race, but as it’s Dorian’s first year in the big leagues, you have to give him the benefit of the doubt.

It’s been years since you worked with a rookie. You’ve been on Ferrari’s team for a while now, working with Azriel and veteran driver Rowan Whitethorn who accepted an offer from McLaren at the end of last season. It had been bliss, the both of them the most unproblematic drivers on the grid, letting their racing do the talking for them.

But it had been more difficult to get them to talk than you thought. The pair hadn’t been as personable to the world because of their stoic behavior, but when you were hired on, you whipped them into tip-top shape, both drivers the perfect media trained racers within all of Formula 1.

“We’re here for work. You’ll have some time after practice and the race, but Saturday night you’re not to be spotted in any clubs or casinos too late,” you explain, shoving your phone into your back pocket to give him your full attention when you say this. You watch your words settle within Dorian, his shoulders falling more and more as you continue. “You’re not to go overboard. That means no drinking, no gambling, no—”

“Fun?”

You sigh at his disheartened look. Maybe it would be alright if he spent some time with some of the veteran drivers, maneuvering Las Vegas along with them. He’ll find that he can still find fun in moderation. Too bad you know Azriel will cut that idea off at the neck.

“I know it sounds boring, Dorian,” you try easily, giving the young driver a sympathetic look. “It’s your first time in Las Vegas and that’s very exciting, but you really need to think hard about what you’re doing here because there are temptations, but there are so many cameras and eyes on you. If you can handle how things might be construed, you don’t have my blessing, but I can’t force you to sit in your hotel all weekend.”

Something sparks in those deep blue eyes at your hidden message. You’ve warned him and you’re not flat-out telling him that you’ll look the other way, that you’ll clean up a mess for him if he makes it, but he should get to live a little, at least.

You know that he’s unlikely to listen to you anyway, friends with a lot of the other young drivers who are just as excited to be in Las Vegas as Dorian is; Ruhn Danaan, Ithan Holstrom, and Tharion Ketos to name a few, with veteran driver Cassian Bailey taking them all under their wing.

That tiny detail means that you’re going to have your work cut out for you this season.

“You got it, boss,” Dorian salutes, shooting you the most innocent look he can muster.

Behind him, Azriel rolls his eyes, and you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter, “Kiss ass,” under his breath, which both you and Dorian effectively ignore.

You’re proud, he’s already learning.

“Alright, Dorian. You’re up first for bomber jacket media, I have something to talk about with Azriel, but we’ll be down soon. You know where you’re going?” You ask, even though his security detail is awaiting him in the hall outside of the suite.

“Of course,” Dorian nods, passing you with his phone already out in his hand. You give him all of three seconds before he begins posting Instagram stories about the hotel. “Thank you for everything, (Y/N).”

“My pleasure,” you answer, waiting until the door shuts behind him before spinning towards your boyfriend and pinning him with a stern look. “You need to stop being so negative, Az. Dorian is on your team and he’s here to stay, at least for the next two seasons until your contract ends. If you want Ferrari to keep you, the both of you will have to start getting along sooner rather than later, and Dorian is a sweetheart.”

“Not you too,” Azriel groans. “Come on, babe, no one can be that charming.”

You hum, stepping into your boyfriend’s warm body. If this is all the time you’re allowed this weekend, you’re going to take advantage of it. Azriel’s hands find your hips easily, a firm, comforting weight against your skin. “I seem to remember someone else that was quite charming when we met,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss that makes your heart race faster than the speed of his car.

“I was pretty charming, wasn’t I?” Azriel grins, waggling his eyebrows, and you love looking at him like this, happy, when his eyes crinkle in the corners with his smile, the slight dimple in his cheek deepening. He’s so handsome. “Want to go down to the Little White Chapel later and make this official?” Azriel teases and your heart fucking soars, even if he is only poking fun.

Someday the man in your arms won’t be a secret anymore. You’ll be able to flaunt him all over the world, build a life with him, love him not just in the shadows.

“Without a ring?” You joke right back, pinching his side. “I don’t think so, Az.”

“Baby, I’ll get you the biggest ring I can find,” Azriel’s words are husky, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he dips his chin. “I’ll give you the whole damn world, (Y/N). I love you.”

“I love you too,” you respond breathlessly, and begin rethinking your refusal to marry him on the strip in Las Vegas without a ring. You’ll take him now, hell, you’ll even marry him in the sequined bomber jacket, you don’t care.

You just want to be his, not in secret anymore.

_________________________________________

Tagging people from the last F1 fic. If you don't want to be tagged just lmk 🥰

@iambored24601 @secretlyhers @kylaisra @daily-dose-of-sass @moosemahboi @devilsfoodcake22 @blackthorngirl @brieflyclassymortal @starsdoulikedem @cami26cami @justasillylittlegoofyguy @milswrites @navyblue-eternity @kennedy-brooke @mimsie95 @shadowsingersmate24 @piceous21 @skyjasper @soulessjourney @despoinasstuff @weasleyreidstyles @marrass @favfantasyreads @fairywriter-oracle @georgiastars13 @blueblondi @namelesssav @tothestarsandwhateverend @brekkershadowsinger

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acowar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #formulaone!azriel

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prettylambgirl · 4 months

Text

My rules for 2024:

Dieting and health: Any weight above 55kg is unacceptable and I will not be living like this anymore

1. The 1200 calories a day is the maximum amount you should ever ingest, aim for 1000 calories. Never restrict too much, however, you have to study and function well in university.

2. The only drinks you are allowed are black coffee, unsweetened tea and diet coke. A plain latte is only allowed on a date or when hanging out with your friends. This should never be done more than twice a week.

3. Take your multivitamins in order to function well and treat your muscular problems.

4. Stretching is to be done every morning, for at least 10 minutes. It is not much, but it helps. You should walk everywhere, however, never let anyone convince you to take the bus when the destination is at a less than 20 minutes of walking distance. Aim for at least 5000 steps a day.

5. Drink 2l of water a day. Being hydrated is especially important for your skin and body.

6. Eat strategically. Only eat before class, before studying, only when you need the energy food provides. Never waste that energy when it's not necessary.

7. Never order fast food again. Learn how to resist the urge to say yes when it's being proposed. Your roommate is skinny, you are not. She can have it, you cannot.

8. You can indulge in some unhealthy things that bring you joy. Your nicotine addiction is manageable - try to replace cigarettes with vape liquid, it is less pricey and makes your room smell better. Slowly decrease the nicotine concentration until you are ready to completely drop it. The occasional wine is accepted, but count the calories in it and don't overindulge. Never are you to be seen in public smoking or drunk, however. Always keep these flaws secret.

Studying: Medical school is hard and demanding, but it is possible to get through it.

1. Any mark under an 8 is deemed unacceptable and you should strive for the better.

2. You know yourself well. Stop trying to mimic the way other people study, use the method you know has worked for you since the beginning. You are smart and capable.

3. Stick to your schedule religiously. Study every single day except for Saturdays. Every subject is to be revised and valued equally.

4. Start studying for examinations one week before it takes place. Strive for the best marks. Complete projects as soon as they are announced.

5. Always take notes, answer questions and be attentive during class. The people who judge you for this are jealous of your intelligence. Never shut up ever again.

6. Volunteering is essential: it gives you bonus points for future Erasmus projects. Therefore, you should attend such events once a month. Do not prioritize it over your studies, however.

Hobbies: You must have a personality and be cultured, besides being smart. Never let anyone see you as boring.

1. Reading is your favorite activity - aim to read 20 pages a day. Read 40 pages in the weekends. Read fashion magazines as well, in order to stay inspired.

2. Writing - on the weekends, try to write something: an article, a poem, some prose, a blogpost, anything you like. Never let that passion fade away.

3. Limit TV shows to 40 minutes per day, watch a movie on the weekend.

4. Go out to see the opera, a museum or an art exposition every month.

5. Stay up to date with the news in the industries that matter to you!!

Personality and Social Life: Things are going great, but they can be improved.

1. Always keep your cool. Never are you to rage in public ever again. People respect you, don't mess this up. You must always wear a confident smile, never show your weak side in public.

2. Be friendly and helpful. Always say hi when walking past someone you know and engage in conversations with your colleagues. However, you are not to overshare with people you do not know well. Keep the conversations going about themselves, not yourself, unless asked about.

3. Help people out whenever you are directly asked for. However, do not overdo it. Put yourself first.

4. Do not talk ill about anyone unless it's with your close friends or significant other. This can be used against you anytime.

5. Never seem too available. Only hang out if your schedule allows you to. Never fall into the trap of "study gatherings" as you know well you function better individually.

6. Keep in touch with your close ones daily. Ask about their day, show them that you care.

7. Hangouts must be limited to twice a week. You must only hang out with your boyfriend once a week. It hurts, but it keeps you both focused on your work.

8. Don't PDA at university, please. This has to stop once and for all. Limit it to hand holding and sitting together at less important courses. Do not show people how needy you are.

9. People who lack certain morals and are not compatible with you from this point of view should not be part of your life. Their negative energy impacts you a lot. Only speak to them if directly approached.

10. Don't be late, it's unacceptable. You must be present 10 minutes before the start of an event.

11. Never are you to be seen in nightclubs or places that may damage your reputation. If it doesn't characterize you to be in that place, stay home. Do not fear missing out on anything, you already saw enough.

12. Use social media for only 30 minutes daily.

Looks: Being put together is the key to success. It teaches you discipline.

1. Skincare must be done twice a day, morning and night. Keep it simple but consistent, as your skin is not compatible to harsh chemicals. Apply perfume and body sprays.

2. Makeup should be kept to a minimum, unless it's a special occasion: eyeliner, mascara, eyebrow gel, lip liner and lip gloss is the perfect recipe.

3. Your hair must be lustrous and well kept. Wear it down most of the time. Do a cute hairstyle once a week.

4. You must always be dressed up for the occasion: always wear preppy academic outfits to university, something more playful and fun when you go out, your lounge wear and pajamas should still be cute. Even if nobody sees you, you still can see yourself.

5. Buy some new clothes every month. Change it up, do not seem repetitive with your outfits.

6. Your clothes must always smell good, be meticulously ironed and fresh.

7. Never are you to wear the same outfit again in a week. People notice and you must not seem lazy.

8. You have to take care of yourself every week: shave, paint your nails and toenails, exfoliate, apply a face mask, wash your hair.

9. Shower every other day instead of every day as your skin dries out. After every shower, use lotions for your body. You must always smell like a cake.

#ed not ed sheeran #tw ana diary #an0r3c1a #anorexcya #@nor3×14 #@na vent #@na trigger #@n0r3xia #@na tips #pr04ana #pr0ana diet #pr0annna #pr04nn4 #pr0anna #ed not sheeren #tw ed diet #disordered eating thoughts #tw disordered eating

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suugarbabe · 10 months

Text

Saving Grace

[Chapter 1]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You're caught in a pinch and Mattheo is quick to lend a helping hand, but you might have bitten off more than you can chew

Warnings: none

You turned the corner quickly, pressing your back against the wall to catch your breath. You had been speed walking down the hall trying to get away from Adrian Pucey. You had let him down, at minimum, three times in the last two weeks. You felt like you had been pretty forward with your denials, but Merlin was that little weasel persistent. Maybe he just didn’t get denied that often, I mean, he wasn’t ugly by normal beauty standards. But his personality was that of dragon dung. He had stopped you after potions the first week of classes, telling you how “nice your uniform fit this year” and it took all the strength you had not to gag in his face. He asked if you wanted to sit with him at lunch; you politely declined and then spent your lunch hour in the library for safe measure. Later last week he caught you after dinner, asking if you wanted to go to Hogsmead with him. Again, you declined, telling him you had to catch up on reading that you put off during the summer and swiftly walked away from him before he could ask to keep you company.

The worst was earlier this week. You had successfully avoided him all weekend, even managing to go to Hogsmead with your friends for a few things without running into him. You weren’t sure if maybe he had actually seen you out, or maybe someone else had mentioned seeing you, but after potions that morning you tried to leave and quickly head to your next class when you were suddenly pushed against the wall. Adrian had you trapped with his arms on either side of your head. He said it felt like you’d been avoiding him. You told him he was right and that he couldn’t take a hint. He laughed, like you were challenging him to get closer. As soon as you noticed him trying to lean in to you, you mumbled a quiet depulso, causing his body to leap several feet away from you before running off to charms.

That led you to your predicament today. Back pressed against the wall around the corner, waiting for the moment you needed to start running. You heard Adrian’s voice down the hall and quickly pushed off from where you were resting and headed down the corridor you had turned. You had made it almost down the end of the hall when you heard him call out your name. You didn’t turn around, scanning the faces passing through for anyone even semi-recognizable to help you, or hide you, anything at this point. Just then, you saw what could be your saving grace turn the corner: Mattheo Riddle. He was in your house, but you and he did not hang in the same circle. You knew if Adrian was going to be intimidated by anyone, it was Mattheo. The entire school knew of his reputation, how accurate it was you had deemed irrelevant as long as it got Pucey off your back.

You walked up to him quickly, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him to the side speaking quickly, “I don’t know if you know my name, but it’s Y/n. I know this is weird and I don’t expect you to help me but Adrian Pucey has been pestering me for the last two weeks and the git cannot take a fucking hint and now he’s looking for me again and I know he’s just right behind me, I heard him, can you just please pretend like you’re talking to me or give him one of those glares you do that make people not talk to you or something?” Mattheo’s grin grew wider with each word that came out of your mouth.

“I know who you are, Y/n,” He started, looking over your shoulder noticing Pucey scan the crowd again, “He’s getting closer. You want me to shout at him or just glare?” You took a step closer to Mattheo, trying to hide yourself, if possible, “Glare please.” At that moment Pucey clocked you, brows furrowed seeing who you were standing with. He walked quickly up to you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. Mattheo quickly slapped his hand away, glaring at the boy, “Fuck off, Pucey. She’s busy, clearly.” Adrian eyed you suspiciously, “Since when do you hang out with Riddle, Y/n?” You looked from Adrian’s face up to Mattheo’s, trying to find a convincing answer. Mattheo’s eyes never left Pucey, answering without missing a beat, “It’s none of your fucking business what she does, or who she talks to. What are you, her handler?” Adrian scoffed, opening his mouth to speak but Mattheo cut him off again, “Oh no, that’s right, you’re just the prick that’s been pestering her since the beginning of classes. How many times does a pretty girl have to let you down before you take a hint?”

With that, Mattheo wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you down the hall and leaving Pucey staring, mouth agape and completely dumbfounded. Mattheo glanced over his shoulder, noticing Pucey still watching. He moved his arm from your shoulders down to wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him as you walked. “Just for good measure,” he whispered, getting close to your ear. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race slightly at his movement, but you kept your face stoic.

There was no denying that Matteo was a handsome man. He had chestnut curls that seemed to fall in just the right place each day, bouncing when he walked. His eyes were multiple different shades of brown in one, easily mesmerizing any girl that he looked at. You knew plenty of girls that have fallen into his trap. Well, maybe trap wasn’t the best word, he did just help you willingly despite barely knowing you. He really had no reason to do that, and given his reputation, you’re honestly surprised he helped so effortlessly, even doing his best to make your simple walk away a little more intimate than just two friends.

You heard snapping in front of your face, making you blink a couple times before being able to refocus on Mattheo’s half turned smile in front of you, “You still with me, Y/n? You were in kind of a daze.” You nodded, “I’m fine, yeah, sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts a bit.” His smile turned into a smirk quickly, “Care to share?” You shook your head, “Not this time, Riddle. But thank you for earlier, and for walking me to class. I really do appreciate it. Who knew you had such a kind heart in here,” you patted his chest playfully, moving to walk past him and into your next class.

He was quick to grab your wrist, turning you around to face him once more, “You know there’s uh, a Slytherin party this weekend.” You smirked at him, “You know, being a fellow Slytherin myself, I’m aware of the party.” Mattheo scratched the back of his neck, almost like a nervous tick, “Yeah, right, aha. Erm, are you gonna be there?” You tilted your head slightly, feeling a little confident, “Do you want me to be there?” Mattheos cheeks had the slightest tint of pink, making you smile, “I’m just messing with you, I’ll likely be there.” Mattheo let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Good, that’s uh, good. I was just asking because you know, Pucey is likely gonna be there so if you, uh, needed my assistance or anything…” He trailed off.

You gave this some thought, you mean, he wasn’t wrong. Adrian most definitely would be at the party as a Slytherin himself; he kind of got a guaranteed invite unfortunately. “You’re right, I probably will need you again,” Mattheo seemed a little surprised at your words, “maybe we should have a chat then, make some ground rules in case he does try to come up to me again, little bugger is fucking persistent.” You nodded, confirming your words to yourself, “Okay, want to meet in the library tomorrow before dinner? Come up with a plan or something?” He nodded, throwing a wink toward you as he walked away backwards, “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow, I’ll see you then, Princess.” You shook your head, turning back to class and finding your seat. You sat down, putting your head on your desk. Your thoughts were racing, what did you just get yourself into.

[chapter 2]

#harry potter #golden era #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle x you #theordore nott #lorenzo birkshire #y/n harry potter #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader

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ncteez · 1 year

Text

NEIGHBORLY (c.s.c. & k.m.g.)

When a single man moves in next door to you and your husband, it wasn’t difficult for either of you to take interest in what he could offer to the dynamic of your lives together. Unfortunately, the new interesting man appears to be afraid to admit that he’s curious as to what happens behind your very unlocked front door. or the one where your husband, seungcheol, fucks you in front of the window to help the neighbor get off and then said neighbor shows up at the door a week later.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog to give gyucheol a kiss on the forehead

WORDCOUNT ― 18.8k

PAIRING ― husband seungcheol x afab reader x voyeur mingyu

CONTENT― husband!cheol, bachelor mingyu, open marriage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, second hand embarrassment, threesome, smut.

WARNINGS ― mentions of mingyu’s ex cheating on him, also seungcheol is assumed to be bisexual and/or he is attracted to mingyu too but there isn’t any dude on dude stuff. seungcheol does put his fingers in mingyu’s mouth tho, deal with it.

NOTE ― i cannot and i will not defend my actions. also, huge shoutout to @homerunhansol for proof reading this for me!!

smut tags below cut:

smut tags― exhibitionism, voyeurism, big dick cheol, HUGE dick mingyu, top/dom(ish) cheol, service top/shy/bottom(ish) mingyu, embarrassment kink???, mentions of porn, masturbation, phone sex kind of?? idk he calls mingyu so he can listen to the shit he’s seeing, alcohol consumption, finger fucking, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, tit fondling, raw grinding, oral (f & m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, making out, dirty talk, pussy drunk men, cock drunk reader, double vaginal penetration, riding, missionary, finger sucking, cum stuffing, desperate desperate people!!!

Mingyu ran from a lot of things. He ran from his ex fiancée when she cheated, he ran from new opportunities out of fear of losing what he already had, ran from a cop once as a teenager for streaking near the old folk’s home. Running wasn’t exactly something he’s fond of but, more often than not it’s what his heart tells him to do.

As stated, the last time he ran away was when his fiancée was found in the bed he paid for with her co-worker. That’s when his need to run came in the most handy, having no qualms with giving her the apartment and everything in it. His job allowed him to leave without much of a financial hit, her’s wouldn’t.

The ring he bought stayed on her finger for some reason, the home he made became one she shared with any man that wasn’t him. It’s okay though, because to him, she can have it. He’s much more comfortable starting over than she would be. So, that’s what he does.

He has money, he has a good job, and now he has a lovely house of his own on a quaint little street on the other side of town. Far far away from her.

Starting over is equally as exhausting as it is exciting but, Mingyu keeps his chin up throughout the process. Making an empty house his new home, working his job as if his entire intimate life didn’t just fall apart, and of course, preparing himself to mingle with the new neighbors.

A month after moving, Mingyu had made platter after platter of food for neighbors as his greeting in an attempt to make friends. Many accepted and returned his dishes washed and unscratched. All are friendly to him but, the majority of people in this neighborhood are middle aged and a bit out of his league. There is one pair of neighbors who appear more around his age though, and interested in actual friendship with him. The pair who brought his dishes back full of their own offer of a decent dinner for him to eat on his own time.

Despite the majority of people living on this street being polite and fond of him as a newcomer, this specific couple appears to be the only ones without an entire family. Just like Mingyu. No children, free time to go out on the weekends, no minivans or babysitters coming every day during working hours. Naturally, he internally clings to the idea of them being his new friends, because his old group of friends consisted of his ex fiancée and her tight-knit group of pompous women and their boy toys.

Seungcheol is the husband’s name, and briefly he met you alongside him a few times. He assumes you must have your own interests to cater to, because each time he finds himself on his own front porch with Seungcheol talking and joking around, you rarely come with him. Save for the one or two times you did stay to hang out for a couple of hours.

After a few months, he’s managed to sprout friendship with the man next door who has a pretty wife with a ring on her finger. Mingyu tries not to internalize that he was supposed to be living the way Seungcheol is. Maybe he’s a bit jealous of the happiness in Seungcheol’s eyes when he talks about you, or maybe it makes him feel like he either wasn’t good enough as a partner, or his ex simply just didn’t love him anymore.

Still, even with the slight jealousy, Mingyu is comfortable around him. He’s never clicked with another man so quickly in terms of friendship, at least not without several shots of hard liquor to get himself comfortable. It’s definitely different with his neighbor.

The guy is open, kind, and occasionally pretty funny. He comes over a few nights a week with the claim of “man-time”. It’s been at least fifteen times since he officially met Seungcheol and comfort comes alongside him when he sits on this porch and they fuck around about menial things. Hanging out with him is arguably like a breath of fresh air.

Seungcheol though, he takes note of a lot of things that Mingyu doesn’t quite seem to notice himself. One, any time he mentions his wife, Mingyu’s eyes falter a bit. Two, he is clearly a single man and Seungcheol can’t quite grasp why that is because he’s a handsome dude, with a level personality. Three, there are slight self-deprecating jokes coming from Mingyu at least five times an hour and it’s starting to make him wonder. At first it can be funny, but after a while it kind of stops being a joke.

So, here they are, joking and having a nice conversation on Mingyu’s porch. It’s a Friday night and Seungcheol assumes they’re close enough by this point to really talk. You’re in the back of his mind, making offers, smirking about the new neighbor, laying down the interest flat out after merely meeting with him a few times. If Mingyu really is a single man, and if he’s as open minded as he seems, perhaps laying down some hints and an invite can help him out of this clear slump that he tries to pretend he’s not in.

“What about you? Do you have someone in your life?” Seungcheol asks after a solid twenty minutes of gushing about you. Internally knowing what he says about you is true, but also trying to sell the idea of how wonderful and sexy you are. He leans back as he studies Mingyu, noting the way he stiffens at the question.

Again, it’s clear that Mingyu is a single man with the way he’s always in this house alone before and after work. On the weekends, he’s sitting on his porch waiting for Seungcheol to come join him. Sometimes there’s a doubt though, because looking at him, anyone would believe he is taken. He is down to earth, funny, kind, handsome as hell. Maybe he does see people and Seungcheol just never catches it.

“Ah, no,” Mingyu avoids eye contact, trying to laugh it off as he confirms Seungcheol’s suspicions. He wants to talk about what happened though. He hasn’t been able to talk about it, and honestly, Seungcheol seems like a trusted friend at this point. “I was with someone for six years, asked her to marry me, and then we broke it off. That’s why I’m here now.”

“Oh yeah? Starting over, huh?” Seungcheol nods politely at him, figuring something like this may have happened. “Can I ask what happened?”

Mingyu shrugs nonchalantly, looking at Seungcheol with a carefree face and a smile.

“She wasn’t the most faithful, you know how it goes with those sorts of things, I guess.”

Seungcheol studies his face a bit more, seeing straight through that carefree attitude and noting the immense amount of hurt Mingyu must feel.

“I don’t, actually.” Seungcheol starts, watching Mingyu’s brow rise in confusion.

“Oh, that’s lucky.” He responds with a defeated shrug, almost wanting to roll his eyes. “You might be the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t dealt with infidelity at some point. Even just as a teenager.”

“On the contrary,” Seungcheol says with a smirk, leaning towards Mingyu as if he has a secret to tell. “We fuck other people all the time.”

Mingyu stares at him as he processes those words. Unsure of it that means they both are cheating out of spite, or if they’re about to divorce or something.

“Sometimes in the same bed.”

Oh.

“At the same time.”

Seungcheol dead pan stares at Mingyu, searching for a reaction to his words. There have been many times where he and his wife invite someone to their bedroom, and many more times where the person ended up so freaked out that they ghosted the entire situation. Perhaps out of fear that Seungcheol doesn’t know what he’s doing with his wife. Many people can’t seem to fathom that possessiveness, jealousy, and competition aren’t part of the deal.

You married Seungcheol and he married you long after the two of you started doing this. The trial period was over before it even started. He loved watching you be pleasured, and you loved the way he looked at you as it happened. Of course, not all of the sex involves other people, but it never hurts the marriage when a third shows up.

“Oh–” Mingyu swallows around his dry throat, mind running in several directions at once. He’s not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Seungcheol stays silent, smirking a bit at the way Mingyu, so huge and broad, stutters to find the words to say. It’s not like he straight up invited him, not yet at least.

“I couldn’t imagine doing that, considering I just left my fiancée for fucking someone else.”

Seungcheol nods both understandingly and apologetically. People do tend to mix up the two. Is it cheating when he watches another man or woman fuck you? To some people, yeah but, monogamy is natural for many people.

“I assume she didn’t tell you that she would be fucking someone else.” Seungcheol shrugs, leaning back again. “I can imagine that even if she did tell you, you’d not have allowed it, right?”

Mingyu nods.

“It puts my stomach in knots to think of someone I love wanting to be with someone else.”

“That’s fair,” Seungcheol starts, glancing away and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “What if someone else wanted you to fuck the person they love?”

Mingyu freezes again, unsure of if he’s thinking too hard about that question, or not enough.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks defensively, looking his neighbor dead in the eye.

“I’m not saying you have to take up this offer but, I mean, you’re a single guy. I’m a married guy, with a wife who is incredibly curious about you.”

Mingyu continues to process the words, still overthinking it.

“Is this a joke?” He asks in a quieter voice, whispering as if the entire neighborhood can hear them.

“Are you attracted to her?” Seungcheol continues to press, wondering what it’ll take to get a simple yes or no out of him. He notes the way Mingyu’s ear goes red, and can’t tell if it’s because of the offer or because he’s afraid to call another man’s wife attractive.

“Here, let me rephrase,” He starts over, leaning forward again. “My wife thinks you’re, in her own words, ‘beautiful.’ She asks about you every time I come home from hanging out here, and she’s starting to get persistent.”

Mingyu, still at a loss for words, slowly nods.

“She’s pretty, yeah.” He says, now leaning himself toward Seungcheol and raising a brow in curiosity.

“As a single man, are you looking for love or are you looking for fun?” Seungcheol continues, prying answers out of him and smiling at the way it seems he was right in believing there is interest here.

“I just got out of a six year relationship, I’m not trying to do all of that again,” Mingyu shakes his head in disappointment. “Not for now, at least.”

“So, do you want to fuck my wife?”

Silence.

Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, seemingly frustrated.

“Look, does it help to know that I want to watch you fuck my wife?”

Louder silence.

“Okay, you clearly need some time to think. Just, if you’re ever interested let me know. I can open the blinds if you want, like a sample or something.”

Seungcheol can see the way his eyes glisten at that offer through his silence. The wavering interest igniting right then and there. Ah, a voyeur, what a perfect addition to this neighborhood of dry vanilla cake. It’s not strange at all to see a monogamous man watching his footing in this situation, but the offer to watch is an entirely different thing from an offer to join right off the bat. Especially since there needs to be boundaries set if he decides he does want to fuck you.

For instance, when did he last get tested? Considering he got duped by his ex, that’s important. Does he like it raw? Does he know the ass belongs to Seungcheol? Etcetera.

“Can you say something? I’m starting to feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just–” Mingyu leans back with a sigh of relief at the general questioning being over and done with. “Yeah, I need to think about it.”

“Don’t think too hard,” Seungcheol laughs. “It’s getting late so, if you need me I’ll be fucking my wife.”

Mingyu watches him stand on his feet and follows the action. Feeling both closer to him and also in a rut of wondering if their entire friendship will rely on whether he wants to fuck his wife or not. Should he like, hug him goodbye or something?

He stands awkwardly as Seungcheol studies him even more.

“Just think about it, really. She loves being watched too, if you don’t want to be involved directly.”

God, he can feel how red his ears and face have become, surely Seungcheol knows by now that the interest outweighs the concerns. And as Seungcheol turns to head down the steps, he calls out to him.

“Let’s say I’m interested but unsure of how to go about it, what then?”

Seungcheol turns to him and smiles, taking a few steps closer so that he doesn’t have to yell out to him.

“It’s sex. If you know how to fuck, you fuck.“

“And if I’m not entirely ready to throw myself into your marital bed?”

“Just let me know, like I said, opening the curtains isn’t the most insane sexual practice.”

Mingyu being the person looking through those curtains though…is it really not as insane as he’s thinking it is?

“So…?” You ask as soon as Seungcheol comes through the door, clinging to him with doe-eyes and a smile.

“He seems interested but,” Your husband slides off his shoes and heads straight for the couch to lay against it in a huff. “I don’t know. Just found out his ex cheated on him after like six years, I think the whole idea spooked him.”

“Ah, damn.” You look to the floor, and then make your way onto the couch with him. “What did you say?”

“I asked him if he wanted to fuck you.”

You narrow your eyes at him before rolling them with a frustrated sigh.

“Why would you ask him straight up like that? I cannot believe you pride yourself in being the talker of our sex life. It’s no wonder we have trouble finding people to join.”

Seungcheol looks at you with a fond smirk.

“Would you feel better if I told you that he admitted to thinking you’re pretty?”

You smile, warming up next to your husband and feeling entirely safe here.

“What about if I told you that right before I came back home, he said he was interested and just didn’t know how to go about it?”

A bigger smile forms on your face as you look up at him, devious eyes glistening in the warm lighting of your living room.

“I offered that he can just watch instead. If he takes up that offer, it won't be long before he’s banging on our front door ready to show us a good time.”

You reach up to brush some of his fringe out of his face before releasing a dreamy sigh.

“He’s so big. Like, even from here I can tell he must be packing. I hope you’re right.” You say as Seungcheol rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Mingyu is your type and you’re probably never gonna shut up about him. “Can’t believe someone cheated on that.”

“Alright, alright.” He playfully complains, shoving you back against the couch and practically smothering you with his form as he flops down on you. “He hasn’t accepted yet, save those compliments for if he joins. He seems pretty shy, probably likes to be doted on.”

“Ooh, shy?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. He was actually stuttering when I made the offer, I don’t think he noticed how red his face got.”

You chuckle at the mental image of Mingyu being shy. You only had to meet him a few times to grow interest in him, but on first glance you’d think he would be the dominant type. It’s a welcome change that your husband thinks he’s the opposite.

“Do you think If I joined you next time, he might be more inclined to pull it out or something?”

“Absolutely not. I can imagine he wouldn’t even come out of his house if he saw you on his porch after what I said to him.”

“God, he’s cute.”

Seungcheol nods against you in agreement, finally pulling his weight from you and standing on his feet.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun to see where this leads. Now if you’ll just follow me to the bedroom, I also told him I’d be fucking you tonight so I’d like to make good on my promise.”

Fortunately for you, Seungcheol never makes a promise that he can’t keep.

For days Mingyu contemplates the things his neighbor said. Over the short time he’s known him, he clicked into friendship so easily and felt like he could trust him. Apparently, Seungcheol felt the same way because spilling all of those intimate details right there during a regular hang out was a bit out of the blue. Then again, he can’t imagine a married man would simply offer for anyone to fuck his wife, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons of this situation.

If it was a joke, he thinks he would know by now. All he’s gotten from Seungcheol since then is pleasant conversation as if the offer was never made to begin with. Which somehow makes it worse because he wants to talk about it. He wants more clarity.

God, since then, he’s had nothing but intrusive thoughts of fantasies he’s never considered before. He’s so horny out of his mind on a daily basis thinking about it, especially now that he doesn’t have his ex fiancée around. Porn has never been so loved by him until now. Even when he was a teenager, he never jerked off this much just to calm his thoughts.

The various types of porn he’s viewed within the past five days is insane. The post-nut guilt hit him pretty hard at first, sending him into both a sex crazed and sex starved stupor but, the interest only heightened from there as he would eventually start searching up porn related to the exact thing he’s been offered.

On the sixth night of contemplation, he peeks through his blinds at the house next door and notes the silence. He knows some wild things must happen in that bedroom and he wants to know what it is. Naturally, he starts searching up some keywords without really knowing what any of it entails.

He watches cuckold video after cuckold video, feeling his opinions of fucking another man’s wife validated by the amount of people who seem to love it the way he wants to. Then, exhibitionism comes into play. He watches at least ten videos involving said kink, his cock growing so pathetically hard at the fact that this could be a reality if he wants. Then, voyeurism.

Good lord, that’s him. All of these videos, at least in the ten more he watches, he can easily put himself in the shoes of watching. Which only makes it more arousing when he lands on a video that is clearly scripted, but entirely too similar to what his kind neighbors offered.

There, a man watches through his window, palming himself as a woman gets absolutely railed against her own window. The camera pans to and from both ends of the scenario, for five minutes he watches the woman get fucked from the man’s window view, and then for another five minutes, he watches the man pleasure himself from her view.

He watches intently, weeping cock twitching each time he closes his eyes and realizes that if he wanted it, that could be him. He could be the stranger in his window watching his neighbors get eachother off, except Mingyu isn’t a stranger.

He doesn’t even need to watch the video to imagine now. Thousands upon thousands of videos comfort him in the idea that yeah, maybe involving himself in a marriage that isn’t his own is okay. Seungcheol is a handsome guy, and pretty beefed up himself. Then there’s you, such a pretty fucking woman, walking around like you don’t like to get fucked by multiple people as your husband watches.

Goddamn, if there’s any couple he’d want to be involved with, it would be you and your husband.

Okay, maybe he’s interested and maybe that interest plays out the next day. Or rather, the next evening. Another Friday night, when Seungcheol usually comes over to hang out except this time Mingyu doesn’t respond to his texts until much later. Out of both nervousness and his own mind games hyping himself up.

If he’s gonna watch, he doesn’t want Seungcheol to see him a mere hour or two before it happens, at least.

Now though, ten at night, he hyped up his cock the same way he hyped up his mentality. When he’s horny, it’s much easier for him to work up the courage to lay down his own hints, to show his own interest, and to play along with things he’s never delved into.

Mingyu: Hey um

Seungcheol: here I was thinking you were ignoring me or something

Mingyu: can i ask about something?

Hell yeah he can.

Seungcheol: oh? you finally warmed up to the idea?

Mingyu: i’m just curious.

Seungcheol peeps out his own window to see Mingyu’s blinds very quickly close.

Seungcheol: why’d you back away from the window?

Mingyu: i don’t know, i feel like a weirdo

Seungcheol: i invited you to watch me fuck my wife, Mingyu.

No response.

There’s a few moments of silence on Seungcheol’s end as he turns to you and flicks his head to the window.

“I’m ninety percent sure he wants me to fuck you in front of that window right now.”

“Oh?” You perk up in interest, hopping up from the bed and running over to the window beside your husband and peeking out. “Open them up then. If he watches, he watches.”

Seungcheol nods, looking down at the silence of his text messages and smirking. You’re right, if Mingyu wants to watch, he will.

And so, as you go make yourself up in the bathroom for a good first impression, Seungcheol is quick to work himself up now too. Given, the two of you were about to call it a night and simply sleep since the day was quite exhausting, this is a welcome change of events. After all, Seungcheol knows how you act when you’re both horny and exhausted. He’s sure Mingyu will love it if he works up the courage to just look.

After a few minutes more of silence from Mingyu’s message box, you make your way back into the room and stare at the window.

“Is his bedroom lined up with ours?” You ask, quirking a brow.

“I assume so, yeah.” Seungcheol shrugs, still palming against himself lazily to get ready to put on a show.

“Oh, this could be really fun.” You say, now moving toward the window and pulling at the curtains to move them completely from Mingyu’s presumed view.

Seungcheol follows suit, raising the blinds so fast that the sound is almost laughable.

“Should I go ahead and take off my clothes, or?” You ask now, noting the way Mingyu’s blinds are still very much closed.

“Put this on, tie it loosely and let it fall open for him.” Seungcheol smiles, handing you the silk robe you only ever wear when a third is joining you.

“Oooh, perfect. Let him pine for it.” You laugh with a wiggle of your brows, stepping away from the window to completely undress and put on the robe.

Seungcheol finally texts Mingyu again when you get yourself situated, right there in the view of his dark and silent home.

Seungcheol: blinds are open, feel free to watch.

Thank god Mingyu has read receipts on, because right as Seungcheol goes to lock his phone and play with you, he notes that it’s been read and instantly glues himself against your back.

“He read the messages, keep your eyes at his window, see if he watches.” Seungcheol whispers before snaking an arm around you and slipping it under your robe to instantly rub against your clit.

You do exactly as he says, gluing your eyes to the window directly across from you as you slightly spread your legs and grip the windowsill. Seungcheol is good at this, always great with putting on a show too. You know for a fact that even if Mingyu doesn’t watch, you’re going to be seeing stars whenever your husband deems it appropriate.

“You think he’s gonna do it?” You ask curiously, trying not to immediately lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers against your clit, or the hand he’s currently slipping through your robe to grope and squeeze your tits.

“We can only hope, until then, just enjoy it.” Seungcheol smiles against your neck, kissing the back of it before resting his chin on your shoulder, trying to work you up to where you start to slowly lose your sanity like you always do.

It works out perfectly for him, knowing that whether Mingyu watches or not, he’s going to make damn sure you’re taken care of. His fingers expertly slide up and down the delicate folds of your arousal, and his other hand pinches and rolls your nipple to the point that it’s swollen and sensitive. His kisses against your neck become peppered and gentle as he feels your legs start to shake a bit each time his fingers reach your clit again.

You try to turn your head to look at him, but he laughs again.

“No, keep your eyes on the window.” He says in a raspy whisper, pressing his barely clothed cock against your ass. Thankfully, he’s adjusted himself to where just the tip pokes out of his boxers and feeling the coolness of the silk robe offer a delicate sensation, it satiates his needs for now. “Feels good even like this, right?” He asks, sliding his fingers down to tease with your hole.

You nod against him, breathing in deeply and turning to jelly against him. You love and hate the way he makes your body react. It’s hard to keep your eyes on that window across from you when you’re being offered sheer arousal right behind you.

“Mm, you always get so wet when you know someone might be watching.” Your husband compliments you, dipping his fingers in before sliding them out again and running them up to swirl around your clit with more pressure than before. “God, you’re really soaking my fingers already babe, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on–”

You let out a small moan, frustrated that you want Seungcheol to be right. If only Mingyu would take the two of you up on the offer. If only he would actually glimpse even for a moment. You clench at the idea of those blinds opening, grinding harshly against Seungcheol’s hand with a desperate sort of sound.

Right then, you see movement next door. Seungcheol can tell with the way your pussy grips his fingers tightly when he slides them back into you, and you let out a genuine and desperate moan. He flicks his eyes up, now noting the movement himself.

The way you writhe your body at the mere confirmation that Mingyu is watching is insanely erotic to your husband. Whether it’s out of curiosity or if it’s out of arousal, it doesn't matter. He loves the way you get so turned on so fast, and with this being the situation, he’s not surprised that you seem more desperate than usual. Plus, the fact that those blinds stay parted shows that Mingyu likes what he’s seeing, and you couldn’t be more aroused by the thought of what he must be doing behind the veil of his own window-blinds.

Seungcheol chuckles gently in your ear as you continue to lose your mind on his fingers, he can tell that now you’re moving to turn both him and Mingyu on, rather than just him like moments ago. You grind more, you whine more, you get increasingly more wet.

And as you stare forward to the little space in Mingyu’s window where his eyes sit, you grow more and more frustrated with the way he doesn’t open the blinds up. You want to see him too, you need to see how he likes to touch himself.

Seungcheol can tell through your frustrated moans that you need more, and like the doting husband he is, he offers a solution fairly quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He coos, fucking his fingers in again at an angle, deepening them inside of you and holding your waist in place. “He’s not giving you what you want, is he?”

You nod brokenly, finally tearing your eyes from the window and shooting a pleading look to your husband, rolling your eyes back only slightly when his fingertips bump the soft and sensitive spot inside of you.

“Use my phone, text him.” Seungcheol smiles, holding your waist in place tighter so he can fuck his fingers in at a harsher pace. You tremble in his grasp, unsure if you can even process the idea of texting right now. “Tell him to let you see him.”

You nod, smiling through the sensitivity of your g-spot being repeatedly assaulted, clearly on purpose, surely to have you going fucking feral. Reaching for the phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and read over the messages from before with Mingyu. His curiosity is hopefully strong enough to actually stick around for the next however long, because god, you want him to see you fall apart.

Seungcheol: open your blinds, let me see

Mingyu watches you text as your body jerks with each hidden movement of Seungcheol’s hand under that robe, and when his phone goes off he almost panics. Almost. He drops his length and grabs his phone in one hand while using the other to keep the split of his blinds open enough to keep watching. Fighting the feeling of appearing like a damn stalker, despite his hips rubbing his achingly hard cock against the trim of the window.

The way Seungcheol stares from behind you, the way you smirk through faces of pleasure at what he’s doing to you, at what he must be saying to you. Mingyu has never felt so fucking aroused watching someone have what he wants. The way you skew your head to listen to what your husband is saying, the way his hands move to places he can’t see. Arguably, you look like the most fuckable person on this planet at the moment and it’s incredibly difficult to not want to fuck something, anything, right now.

Mingyu knows he’s done for if he so much as grips his own cock by now. So quickly the thought of doing this made his pathetic cock weep against his briefs, and now, seeing it happen in real time just across the yard. Yeah, he could come within seconds if he doesn’t try to control it. Upon reading your text though, he finds himself following precise directions and opens the blinds for you to reveal himself.

His face flushes seeing you in full without the blinds cutting off his peripheral vision. It kind of hits him differently realizing he’s in his own quiet bedroom fucking himself to the image of you propped up against the window for him. It’s embarrassing and he feels entirely pathetic when you look at him like this. Both so far away and so close at the same time. His senses are heightened tenfold the moment he sees you react.

An accidental moan splills from his lips, the sound breaking the heavy silence of his home and echoing through the walls as if to tell whatever ghosts that live here that he definitely wants to fuck around with the married couple next door. Your attraction to him only heightens the confidence he holds within himself.

You, on the other hand, can feel your arousal drip out of you and onto your husband’s hand at seeing Mingyu coming into full view. Your hand grips at your husband’s, clumsily allowing yourself to feel the sheer force of how his fingers are plunging into you just at the right moment. You roll your head back briefly, basking in the pleasure of being fucked and watched.

“Don’t look away babe,” Seungcheol says, flicking his eyes to Mingyu. “He’s so hard.”

You weakly lift your head again, opening your darkened eyes and looking directly at the man through the window. His hair is a mess, fanning across his forehead, and he’s shirtless, revealing the abs you only assumed he had at first glance. His cock is heavy against his dark gray briefs, stretching the fabric out enough to tell you that, yeah, he is packing.

You make eye contact with him, staring straight into his eyes as you press your ass back and against Seungcheol, who readily accepts the movement and presses his cock directly against you with a soft sigh of his own.

“Already?” He whispers to you with an amused chuckle, stilling his fingers and dropping his other hand to toy at the tie of your robe, hopefully so it falls open naturally at a quicker pace now that you appear to be losing it.

“Right now.” You respond in a desperate voice, hiking one leg up against the table off to the side and feeling your robe instantly fall open.

Your eyes devour the image of Mingyu’s mouth falling open in what you can only assume is a moan at your naked body being revealed to him. Instantly, you shoot your hand to your chest and start toying with one of your nipples for him. Shooting a hungry gaze straight across the way and making obvious suggestions at him through it.

Seungcheol from behind you is seemingly in his own little world when he shoves his boxers down and arches your back with his palm so that your ass lifts for him, instantly you can feel his cock between your legs. He takes a step back, pulling you with him and removing your leg from the table to position you in a way that if Mingyu looks hard enough, he can see the way his cock will slide beautifully between your thighs.

“Not yet babe, let’s play first.” Seungcheol soothes you through the disappointed sigh of your leg being pulled down. You were so ready to start fucking immediately, but of course he wants to make a good first impression. “Hold your legs together.”

You listen perfectly, feeling Seungcheol’s cock slide easily between your thighs.

“God, fuck–” He moans, feeling the wetness of you drip down onto his length as you squeeze your thighs together as tightly as possible. “He would go insane over you.”

“He already is,” You chuckle weakly, staring at the way Mingyu’s hand snakes under his briefs and tugs against himself. “I want to see it so bad.”

“Mm, yeah, I bet you do.” Seungcheol responds mindlessly, loving the feeling your thighs offer to his desperate length. “Tell him then.”

Right then, Mingyu can see a mischievous little smile form across your lips as he struggles already not to release against his perfectly cleaned window. The way Seungcheol manhandles you is one thing, with his big hands gripping onto your flesh just to pound his cock between your legs– fuck. But, the way both of you stare straight at him is another. Mingyu might be obsessed with the way the two of you touch each other intentionally to get all three of you off. So badly does he want to be right there in the room, hearing you in his ear, watching Seungcheol kiss across your skin and massage your pretty sensitive pussy. One that he hasn’t entirely even gotten to see yet.

Then, he jumps as his phone rings.

From your end, you watch as he jumps out of surprise, glances at his phone, then back at you, shaking his head with a wince as he grips his cock again.

“He’s not going to pick up.” You comment as the tightened squeeze of your thighs loosen up with disappointment.

Seungcheol is instantly smiling, letting his cock fall from its place of stimulation and is pulling you back, back, back. Offering a full view of him falling back on the bed, with you falling with him.

“Show him your pussy.” Seungcheol says, reaching around you to open your thighs as if you’re a grand prize for this little sex game of trying to seduce a broken hearted man.

Seungcheol knows he has an entire list of positions he could do to get Mingyu just as desperate as you get. Usually, presenting his wife’s pussy at another man is enough to have them making decisions they previously doubted. He hopes Mingyu reacts the same, because if he’s being totally honest with himself, saying no to you when you’re spread out like this is a fucking sin.

You stare at Mingyu when your husband spreads your legs, pussy pulsing around nothing more than the stare being directed at it. And there, sitting on Seungcheol’s hips with your back facing him, you easily hold your legs open and slide your fingers down to circle your clit.

You stay like that for a moment, squinting to see Mingyu’s reaction and noting the way his hand fucks faster under the fabric of his briefs. You want him to go harder, so hard that he needs to take that last remaining bit of clothing off of him so that you can see. Thankfully, Seungcheol’s cock lies right below where your ass is sitting , and it’s easy to grasp it and hold it up against your folds. You grid against it gently before swirling your clit along the length of him, still staring at Mingyu with a smile. As if to tell him, “this could be you.”

The way Mingyu’s hand moves faster is one thing, the way he looks more unashamed now compared to when you first saw him in that window is another. The way his arms flex as he keeps his cock hidden beneath those briefs, jerking himself off desperately as if you can’t tell he’s struggling not to moan loud enough for you to hear even from here, it’s too fucking erotic.

Never have you and your husband had a neighbor to play with like this. Typically, you’re being watched in the same room, this is something entirely different. This is insanely arousing and you can feel your pussy clench each time you’re reminded of how fucking sweet this deal could be.

“Play with yourself,” Seungcheol continues to instruct through a half-moan, feeling the way you rub his length against you as a form of masturbation. “I’ll call him again.”

This time, you note how the phone rings once before Mingyu is fumbling to answer. You see the way his hand stills to put his focus on saying “hello?” as if he doesn’t know it’s you and your husband. As if the people calling him aren’t watching him fuck himself.

Seungcheol starts immediately though, his words driving you insane enough to know Mingyu would have to react in a way that sends him over edge too.

“You wouldn’t believe how wet she is,” Your husband boasts without greeting him back, putting the phone on speaker and lying it next to the two of you. “I bet you would love to bury your tongue in her right now, wouldn’t you?”

Mingyu nearly stutters as he hears the words, staring at the way you hold Seungcheol’s cock right where you want it to grind against. It’s so much to be able to see and hear what’s happening, and it’s like something in his head clicks. He’s so fucking turned on that he feels like he’s going insane, so he puts his normal, level-minded self to rest. No room for embarrassment when his cock is already aching for the couple who seem to want him just as bad.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu sighs out, lying his own phone down against the window sill and fucking his hips forward into his hand. His briefs now stretched out to the point that they truly are more of an issue than anything else right now. “I would, god, how wet?”

You moan at how desperate his voice sounds, now pressing your clit directly against the head of Seungcheol’s cock and deliberately making yourself moan from pleasure. When he flashes his cock to you though, fuck. Just barely he lowers his briefs, palm teasing himself in such a harsh way. He looks so pretty over there, all alone, watching someone else get to play with you like some kind of pervert.

“That’s it,” You say, knowing he can hear you. “Let me see you.”

Mingyu does, shoving his briefs down entirely now, allowing you to imprint the image of how thick and heavy his length is in your brain permanently.

“I can already imagine how good it would feel to have you stretching me out,” You half-groan, now inching your husband’s cock straight to your hole and preparing to fuck the daylights out of him. “I knew you’d have a cock just as pretty as you.”

Seungcheol chuckles from behind you, entirely aroused by the way you talk to another man, a more shy man. He can tell how desperate you are by now too, especially with the way you toy with his cock as if you picked it up from a store shelf and it’s not attached to him. He loves it. And when he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to also see Mingyu, he smiles.

Fucking both of you are totally gone. Even from here he can tell Mingyu is losing his mind over you. Thankfully, you deserve nothing less and Seungcheol couldn’t be happier to play off of the way you both seem to want each other terribly.

“See this?” He says, snaking his hand around you to move his cock and spreading your pussy lips.”Can you not see how wet she is?”

Both of you can hear Mingyu’s muffled groan before you see it, his head falling forward against the window as he stares down at his hand and the way he fucks it. You’re entirely satisfied, because you know what he’s thinking. You can see how badly he wants it, and your husband does nothing but remind him of it.

“Do you want me to fuck him?” You finally ask, pushing your own agenda and raising up on your knees to situate yourself right above Seungcheol’s length, where he takes over and holds it in place for you.

Mingyu’s eyes shoot back to the two of you and he nods before breathing out a small “Yeah…”

He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but it could still be stage fright. Even if he isn’t the one on the damn stage. You can imagine he would get better at this if he accepts the invite of your open blinds on more than one occasion.

Seungcheol chuckles again at him, the breathy tone of his voice is quite obvious to him. Mingyu is holding out, he doesn’t want to come too soon and end the fun.

“You heard him babe, ride me.”

Instantly, you’re sinking down and feeling the harsh stretch of Seungcheol’s cock pulsing inside of you. Your drawn out moan rings in Mingyu’s mind as he watches the slow descent. Only now noting how big Seungcheol’s length is, and seeing how well you take it. He twitches in his palm, eyes nearly rolling back to escape the overwhelming arousal that floods his thoughts.

Mingyu isn’t sure if either of you are aware, but he can hear how wet you are through the phone. When you slide down and start bouncing your ass, all while staring forward at him, he can hear it pour out of you. The slapping of your ass landing against Seungcheol is a beautiful sound, and he does his best not to moan through it and muffle those sounds out.

He stares straight back at you, thinking hard enough at how he fucks the circle his fingers create. He’s losing his breath when he fucks his fist in time with the way you bounce, tuning into your face and imagining that he’s the one you’re riding. No offense to Seungcheol, it’s nearly like he doesn’t exist right now considering he’s almost entirely hidden by you.

That doesn’t last too long though, because Seungcheol makes himself well known through his breathy words. Dirty talking in a way that somehow, Mingyu still finds himself shocked by it. The words turn him on, he can only imagine how you feel about.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight. I bet you’d love to be spread out for both of us,” Seungcheol says at first, gripping your thighs and basking in the way you squeeze his length each time Mingyu does something to turn you on. “Don’t you think he would love to feel how you drip from this?”

Mingyu feels so shameless, and for some reason it feels okay. Your husband is dirty talking to you about him and it’s insanely sexy when he hears it. Already stuttering his hips in his palm, especially when he notes that Seungcheol moves his hands to your pussy and spreads it open again for him. Offering him the perfect view of his length sliding in and out of you.

“Would love to see how this pussy gets filled up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Unsure of if Seungcheol is talking to you or to him at this point, Mingyu answers without thinking.

“Fuck, fuck. Yeah–” Mingyu says with a cut-off groan, holding the base of his cock so tight he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t release yet, he has to keep going.

You moan loudly at his breathed out answer, nodding your head frantically at the confirmation, answering for yourself shortly after.

“You’d make me come so fast, Gyu, I know you’d know how to fuck me,” You start, not realizing the shortened version of the name you’d called out.

And then he moans brokenly through the phone which instantly has you leaning yourself back, and lying against Seungcheol’s chest. He falls back with you, holding you and once again and moving his fingers to your clit, his cock still pounding in at the perfect pace.

“Fuck, she’s there–” Seungcheol grits out, feeling your orgasm wash over you and grip his cock insanely tightly. “Goddamn, feels so good babe, that’s right.”

Mingyu, watching and listening, instantly releases the grip on the base of his cock, staring straight at the way Seungcheol stuffs his length inside of you. The nickname you called him echoes in his head, and then he stutters out a broken sob as he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and just like him, you’re also listening.

He must hold his breath when he’s close, or maybe he’s just way more shy than he appears to be, considering what he’s doing right now, but you don’t mind as you ride your own high. Ears popping shortly after when Seungcheol continues to chase his own pleasure within your dripping heat.

Strangely enough, even Seungcheol is shocked at how fast he comes from this. Releasing a mere two seconds after you relaxed around him. You can feel him pulse inside of you as you lie against him, pussy still on full display, cum dripping out of you in a beautiful scene for Mingyu’s eyes to devour.

And devour, they do. Mingyu just stares, head spinning as he ignores the spurts of cum hitting his window and dripping down onto his carpet. His hand is also drenched in his own heat and he makes no attempt to move afterwards. Arguably, he’s still aroused by the image of the way your husband fills you up with his own seed, and the way you’re so full of his cock that it dribbles out and onto your thighs.

God, he wants to lick you so bad. Even now, fully spent and his sober-mind coming back to him, he wants to taste you.

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, breaking the silence with an out of breath voice. “You still watching?”

There’s another moment of paused silence.

“Yes– I am.”

Seungcheol smiles, nuzzling his face against you and your neck as you continue to lean against him out of breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, once again spreading you open for Mingyu to see, allowing the rest of his cum to drip out of you.

“Take a good look, because this pussy went fucking insane over you.”

Mingyu does look. He has been looking. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing at the way his cock twitches with interest again, so fucking fast after having already been emptied.

“I’ll be coming over tomorrow to discuss this.” Seungcheol adds nonchalantly, easily going from filth-talk to casual-talk. “Get some rest.”

“Goodnight, Pretty boy,” You call out with a dazed smile, finally moving yourself off of Seungcheol and adjusting your robe back onto your shoulders.

And right before Seungcheol hangs up the phone, both of you smile at each other at the way Mingyu lets out, in the tiniest voice for such a big man, a gentle little “Goodnight.”

By morning, Mingyu nearly forgot Seungcheol said he was coming over. It wasn’t until the afternoon when he managed to get the image of you getting off out of his mind that he remembered there’s supposed to be a discussion about it.

Embarrassment hits him harder than it ever has, thinking about what he was doing for both of you to see. It wasn’t just a show for him, he put one on for the two of you as well.

When he makes his way back into his bedroom, he tries to ignore the fact that your blinds are still open, and there’s no one in the room. He pauses briefly, once again trapped in the on-going loop of what he saw happening on that very bed just the night before.

It feels like he’s doomed when Seungcheol comes over. He could just not answer the door but it doesn’t change the fact that he lives right next door and he already came all over his window before your very eyes. Before Seungcheol’s very eyes. He’s already crossed the boundary into someone else’s marriage and despite loving the idea of it, it’s scary. It’s not something he’s ever considered doing before meeting the two of you, and now, he’s kind of just confused as to how all of this works.

Like, it almost seems too sweet of a deal. You’re a beautiful couple, who is he to be able to watch what you do with your husband? What’s the catch?

Well, he comes to find out that there isn’t much of a catch at all. Seungcheol shows up with a warm smile and a gift of wine. It felt welcoming but, insanely awkward with the way it’s the first time Mingyu has ever been offered a hug by him.

They hug. Seungcheol fucking hugs him to say hello with that expensive ass bottle of wine as if to say “nice cock, my wife loved it.”

Seungcheol does pick up on the awkwardness though, stepping through Mingyu’s door and inviting himself in. After all, it’s only appropriate at this point. He keeps his smile though, loving the way you woke up in a good mood all thanks to Mingyu letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“Don’t be like that,” Seungcheol says, glancing around the house and nodding in approval that it doesn’t appear to be entirely barren. He kind of expected the house to not feel like a home, because that’s usually what single men do. “You can back out anytime you want.”

Mingyu, somehow, feels eased by those words. His heart thumps against his chest at the thought of never doing it again though. Which is kind of weird to him.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know how to act around you after that.”

Seungcheol offers him a warm smile again, seeing himself to the kitchen and opening the drawers.

“We can talk about that,” He waves him off, still rummaging through a kitchen that isn’t his own. “You got a corkscrew?”

Mingyu nods, trying to make his huge frame seem as small as possible by tip-toeing past his neighbor with the huge cock and opening one of the only drawers he didn’t get to. He pulls out the corkscrew and hands it to him, making no attempt to look into his eyes even for a second.

“Oh my god, loosen up.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, shoving Mingyu by the shoulder playfully and heading back to the bottle of wine.

Mingyu feels slightly comforted by the fact that maybe he can loosen up with a bit of wine in his system, but getting to that point feels like it’s going to be hell. He’s never felt so embarrassed.

“Sorry,” He responds in a small voice, grabbing two random cups and following Seungcheol. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect out of this whole thing, like,”

Seungcheol cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“That’s why I’m here to talk to you about it. Clearly this isn’t something you’ve done before, it’s not like we didn’t want you to get off or anything. You’ll come to learn that we enjoy this kind of thing.”

He pauses as he opens the bottle, shifting it to the side now to grab two cups and look at Mingyu.

“If you end up not enjoying it, there’s always someone else we can find to take up the offer.”

Mingyu very nearly panics, hoping it doesn’t show plainly on his face as he takes over pouring the wine. Seungcheol picks up on people so easily, watching Mingyu shake his head slightly at the words and pour a suspiciously nervous amount of wine into both cups.

“That’s the thing though,” Mingyu says, popping the cork back into the bottle and already taking a swig of his wine. “I did enjoy it.”

Seungcheol raises his brow, nodding his head in encouragement and grabbing his own cup before following Mingyu to his living room.

“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Let’s talk about it then.”

Mingyu knows it’s inevitable, and hopefully within the next hour, he won’t feel so cautious in talking about it.

“You know, usually I wouldn’t let her come so fast,” Seungcheol shrugs, standing to grab the bottle of wine and bring it into the living room. “I tend to try and get a few out of her but she just wasn’t going to let me. Did you see the way she grabbed it and sat on me? I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to.”

The way Seungcheol talks loudly and comfortably about it is kind of soothing. Given, this is probably why they’re opting to hang out inside of the house rather than outside. This is a private matter, an intimate one, even.

“She slept like a rock afterwards, and is now insisting we keep the blinds open at all times to view at your discretion.”

Mingyu stutters a bit, scooting his cup towards Seungcheol and hoping he pours another generous amount into his cup. Already, since he doesn’t drink too often these days, he can feel the buzz and comfort settles within him as Seungcheol seemingly dotes on him.

“What I’m trying to say is, our blinds are permanently open unless you’d rather not do this. Alternatively, the door is open too, but,” Seungcheol pauses so he can sip his drink. “You’re going to need to get tested first if you want that thing anywhere near my wife.”

Mingyu shifts slightly, squeezing his legs together uncomfortably as his wine bubbles in his belly.

“I’ve already been tested. My ex cheated on me with god knows how many people, you think that wasn’t the first thing I did?”

“Smart man,” Seungcheol claps him on the shoulder, now leaning in a bit too close for comfort if Mingyu were still in his embarrassed mind-state. “We get that you’re shy about all of this, but I’ve gotta tell you, her pussy really did grip every single time you moaned.”

Mingyu’s eyes start to shine at the compliment, for some reason feeling like he’s on top of the world hearing that.

“Felt like I was being strangled, honestly.” Seungcheol laughs before going quiet. “So, what do you think?”

Mingyu pauses, staring at his cup and then at his neighbor.

“I, um–” He sighs out of frustration, wondering why he can’t articulate a damn sentence with confidence. “I liked watching, I guess. Not sure if I’m ready to just…”

“Come fuck my wife?” Seungcheol says playfully before immediately gripping Mingyu’s shoulder and laughing fondly at him. “Take your time. Like I said, the blinds are open and we have a pretty active sex life. I can imagine you’re going to wonder how I’m not milked dry yet.”

He already wonders that.

“But I do want to say, if you decide to actually come over and show her a good time, there are rules to that.”

Mingyu quirks a brow, unsure of if his mind is running in a way that will let him take down mental notes.

“First of all, she’s protected so as long as you can provide proof of your test you can come in her all you want, she likes that but, you’re not touching her ass.”

Mingyu nods, shrugging nonchalantly and surprised he even responded that way.

“She likes it rough but she doesn’t know you enough yet. Don’t slap my wife, don’t grab her neck with the intention of choking her, and don’t call her any type of degrading name. Not yet, at least.”

Wow, his brain is actually taking down the mental notes perfectly. Even with these rules, he’s not entirely into hitting the person he wants to be inside of, not unless they ask anyway.

“That’s it. Those are the rules.” Seungcheol says with a shrug, taking another drink and tapping his foot on the floor. “What about you? For possible future endeavors, what’re your terms?”

There’s a long pause. Mingyu is totally unprepared to make rules for a situation he’s never even been involved with before, but he does his best.

“Well,” He breathes out, blowing a strand of his fringe up from his forehead in a huff. “I don’t know. Don’t put anything in my ass?”

“That’s no fun,” Seungcheol deadpans, then nods. “But fair, okay. What else?”

Mingyu continues to let his eyes wander around his living room as he thinks of things he doesn’t like sexually.

“I really don't know. I’ve mostly just had vanilla sex. I can tell you what I do like?” He admits, knowing that all of this is just in case.

“Alright, go on then.” Seungcheol nods, now topping off their drinks.

It’s actually hilarious to him, hearing Mingyu list off the most mundane sex acts. He does his best not to chuckle at the mention of “blow jobs, I like those.” Instead, he offers something along with that, interrupting him.

“Ever been deep throated?” Seungcheol asks, watching Mingyu breathe in because it’s like he lost all of his breath trying to list off things he likes. “Like, you know, ever face-fucked?”

Mingyu nods, then shakes his head, then nods.

“Define both of those. I mean, my ex never really let me hold her head in place, but I tried once. And don’t even get me started on the way she would refuse to continue if she gagged even once.”

Seungcheol shakes his head in pity.

“Man, you’re gonna love my wife.”

Well, to put it lightly, Mingyu might, definitely, insanely, obsessively be in love with you. Not in like the “leave your husband” way but more in like the “i want you so bad and know that i’m allowed to have you if i’d just stop being a little bitch about it” way.

It’s been another entire week since Seungcheol came over to discuss things with him and even more so now, is Mingyu’s mind in the gutters. He’s thankful he’s good at his job, almost able to do everything needed without much thought behind it because if that weren’t the case, he would probably be fired by now.

Fired for being too horny at work isn’t something he ever considered would happen to himself, and though it hasn’t and probably won’t, he isn’t too shocked at this point to be learning more and more about these hidden little interests that only came to light when he met you and your husband.

Those blinds do stay open, and that little bedside lamp in your bedroom has become one of his favorite things. One, because it illuminates the way your body moves when Seungcheol inevitably fucks you, two, because it’s actually a pretty nice lamp and he kind of wants one for his own bedroom.

And god, his window. His poor fucking window. Four out of the seven nights since Seungcheol came over has he been standing right there, blinds open, getting himself off. He knows he’s a pervert by this point. He embraces it now, knowing for a fact that you’re also embracing it, and even Seungcheol is too.

The embarrassment that hits him after each time he releases hurts much less than the post-nut guilt of all that porn he was watching before all of this happened. He’s not sure why, but there’s something inside of him that tells him it’s because he’s wanted. He’s being fawned over by an entire married couple and it makes his confidence go through the fucking roof.

That second time he stood at his window, he was still unsure of it. But now, three more sessions later, he finds himself considering the offer of being in the room. Each time he thinks he should do it. You know, like release his cock mid-jerk off session just to run next door and barge into the room to bury himself inside of you, all while Seungcheol allows it to happen and praises him for manning up to do it.

He hasn’t yet though, because most of the time he struggles to pull his eyes away from how fucking good the two of you look together. And you know, to him, when he thinks about actually being in that room with the two of you, there’s still some shame left in him about it.

Something about the idea of joining a married couple despite how much he loves watching them, the idea of them asking him multiple times to work his body on you, the idea of them leaving their blinds open just so he can get off at his own volition.

It’s such an insane fantasy come to life and the shame he feels about actually following through stays despite it wavering with each time he watches and listens in by calling you himself to hear you moan.

Again, by now, an entire week later and several sessions of pure voyeurism, he questions that shame and wonders how much it’ll take to ignore it. Next time for sure he’s going to go over there. Next time, he’s going to put that shame to rest like he did the first time with simply watching.

That next time doesn’t happen though, because you’re not wandering around your room naked for Mingyu to see when his alarm goes off. Because yeah, it’s kind of a ritual now to look out the window and nod a little “good morning” to you and your tits.

When he looks outside near the afternoon, both cars in your driveway are gone and it hits him over how fixated he is on the two of you. It feels almost empty seeing the two of you gone on a weekend, when Seungcheol is usually texting him to see if he wants to hang out.

By this point for him, yes, come over please.

Then, relief washes over him when he hears Seungcheol’s car pull into the driveway. The amount of pining within Mingyu at this moment is driving him insane. It’s only four in the afternoon by this point and his mind is reeling. Going miles a minute and honestly, he needs this overwhelming feeling to be eradicated.

He needs to do it.

Seungcheol is shocked as he sits eating his dinner to the sound of a knock at his door. He’s swift when he stands to his feet and answers it.

“Oh, was gonna text you to hang out after dinner–” He pauses, realizing this is the first time Mingyu has ever been on his doorstep save for when he greeted them with a meal after he moved in. He eyes him up and down momentarily before smirking. “Well, well, well.”

Mingyu doesn’t quite make eye contact as he stands there and shoves the proof of his tests into Seungcheol’s chest, already regretting the decision to come over without so much as texting.

“Showing up looking like this, already hard too?” Seungcheol says snidely, glancing at the results and leaning himself against his door frame. His eyes stare directly at Mingyu’s obvious raging hard-on beneath his pants, then he glances up at his face.

Mingyu appears to be both ashamed and proud, presenting himself like a damn virgin.

“Relax, it’s cool. You can come in,” Seungcheol finally says, trying to ease the tension that seems to be festering within his friend. “I’ll call and see if she’s coming home tonight.”

Mingyu is fucking mortified. Of course he’s bad at timing. Of fucking course he shows up ready to fuck and you’re not even here. Now he’s just left standing just inside of the front door with a desperate and pathetic cock that, for some reason, still isn’t even going down.

“She’s. not. here.” Mingyu says to himself loud enough for Seungcheol to throw a laugh at him, putting the phone up to his ear after pressing the call button.

“She went to see her parents. I bet the second I tell her you’re standing there like that, hot ‘n hard, she’ll be running red lights.”

Mingyu is flushed. Entirely aroused by this whole situation despite the embarrassment. The last thing he needs to admit to right now though, is getting off on the shameful way he’s acting. He knows he looks desperate, and that…for some reason, makes him feel proud.

He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even hear Seungcheol talk to you. Completely misses the way he says into the phone “hey babe, guess who is standing in our living room right now? he looks like he might cry.”

Totally misses the brief pause and then Seungcheol’s response of, “yeah, you might wanna rush.”

Luckily for him though, he’s so in his head that time flies as he tries to will his length to go down just a little bit. It’s frustrating, really, to only learn certain things as they happen to him, but like, damn. He really feels like he’s about to burst already, just standing here with a woman’s husband who is knowingly about to let him fuck her.

“You’re not usually this quiet.” Seungcheol finally says to Mingyu, who is still just standing there in the living room. “Are you nervous?”

Mingyu instantly nods, throwing his hands in front of his hard-on and looking to Seungcheol.

“This is the worst, actually,” Mingyu starts, shifting from one leg to the other and glancing away. “Fuck you guys for being so enticing.”

Seungcheol shrugs proudly, offering a smile and then nodding his head as if to invite Mingyu to sit on the couch.

“She’ll be here soon, I’m just going to clean up. Don’t think too hard and take off running, she’s excited.”

Mingyu nods reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Jumping out a window sounds pretty nice but by this point he assumes every window he will ever touch probably has his cum on it by now. You know, association and stuff.

Then, he hears a car pull up and he’s practically throwing himself to his feet. His balance turning him into a clumsy mess, totally forgetting how to navigate his large body and entirely losing the ability to know how to navigate this entire situation.

The good news for him though, is that you practically jump out of your car and sprint for the door. Not even greeting Seungcheol when you rush inside and slip off your shoes.

All Mingyu knows is that, one second he stands to his feet and gets a head rush, then he hears a door slam, Seungcheol letting out a breathy laugh, and then you slamming into him and practically knocking him back down onto the couch.

“All this time you made me watch? And now you show up when I’m at dinner with my parents.” You playfully scold him, immediately straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands so that he can look at you. “You’re going to have to tie me up if you don’t want me to be all over you right now.”

Mingyu looks at Seungcheol with a stunned expression, receiving a simple shrug in response.

“You want her to touch you?” He asks, heading for the bedroom and raising his voice to continue. “If not, I do have rope.”

Mingyu looks at you, still totally stunned by how fucking fast you got on top of him. He’s rendered more speechless than you’ve ever made him, and his cock twitches painfully from the sensitivity of you sitting on top of him.

He nods politely, dipping his head and looking down.

“You can touch me.” He whispers, only to be cut off by Seungcheol shouting from the bedroom.

“You guys gonna come into the bedroom, or?” He yells, peeking around the corner and shooting a look at you specifically, as if to remind you to pace yourself considering that Mingyu is entirely new to this and still seems like a deer in the headlights.

You nod to Seungcheol and then lift Mingyu’s face back up to you again.

“I can tell your heart is racing,” You say to him in a fond tone, tilting your head playfully. “It’s okay, come on.” You add, pulling yourself off of him and grabbing his hand.

He stares at the way you intertwine your fingers. Feeling like if he thinks hard enough, you’re not married and you’re more into him than just sex. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about that at all. The whole reason he’s so turned on is because this is considered strange to most people he knows. He doesn’t even want to be in love, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with any single person right now. What he wants is this. What he wants is to watch you through his window, and lust over you, and then get to have you. Time and time again. What he wants is for Seungcheol to always share you with him, because he can barely cross his own boundaries, better yet crossing someone else's.

At least with him, you’d be safe. Seungcheol wouldn’t have to worry about broken rules or him coming into your home to take full control. This isn’t his relationship, it’s yours, and if the two of you want him involved even with just sex, he’s leaping for the opportunity at this point.

There, he’s led into the bedroom where Seungcheol looks at him with a fond expression. Mingyu stares for a moment, then looks around the room. It feels like he’s been pining to be in this very room for ages, and knowing he’s standing here right now feels even more overwhelming.

He glances at the window, looking through it into his own open blinds and the embarrassment hits him twice as hard, which obviously has his cock aching in arousal. He isn’t even ashamed of the little, breathy whimper of defeat he lets out at this moment, rolling his eyes back and furrowing his brows.

You let go of Mingyu and take your place beside Seungcheol, both of you checking Mingyu out from head to toe before looking at each other and smiling.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Seungcheol admits, feeling defeated that for the first time in his sex life with you, he doesn’t know how to get the ball rolling. “Why does this feel so intimate compared to usual?”

You laugh, now staring down both of them, wanting nothing more than to fuck and be fucked. The air in this room feels electrifying, and already you have goosebumps rising against your skin. It feels like heaven.

“Probably because he’s so close to home,” You chuckle, feeling totally in control with two lost men staring at you as if they want to eat you alive. “Isn’t that right, Mingyu?” You say, taking a step towards him and already lifting your shirt off of you.

Just as quickly as Seungcheol loses his ability to be the one in control, he gains it back after seeing how confident you are. He knows for a fact how badly you want to be on Mingyu right now, and he has no qualms with that, but part of the fun is being able to present you until the third in the room is practically drooling.

“Not too quickly,” Seungcheol warns, pulling you back by the arm and wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head down to kiss your neck and look Mingyu directly in the eye. “Watch him for a bit first.”

Mingyu feels so fucking seen right now, his cock still wildly twitching at each word and glance. He very nearly falls to his knees right then, because in all fairness he’s been rock hard all fucking day and intentionally held off so that he would be so out of his mind, that surely he’d fuck you as good as you need him to.

“Cheol, I’ve been watching him.” You say, leaning against his warmth and devouring Mingyu with your eyes, “C’mere, Gyu.” You add, giving both men shortened versions of their names to show your adoration for them at this moment.

Mingyu manages to take a step forward without his knees buckling from under him, his eyes scanning your bare torso and the way your chest is hidden by your bra. He can’t not stare, after all, he’s grown accustomed to it by now. He knows what's under that bra and what’s under those pants, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s never seen your body this close. He’s never touched you before.

“Well?” Seungcheol looks at him as he makes his way across the room a bit too slowly for his liking. “We have all day, technically.”

Mingyu switches his eyes over to Seungcheol, who seems amused by how enamored he is right now with you. His mind is fairly blank right now, outside of thinking about everything he wants to do, everything he wishes he could say, but still, all he can manage to do is stand in front of you, still not reaching out. He looks at the way Seungcheol has you locked in his arms, holding you still against his chest as if to tame a beast from him.

“You’re so pretty, Mingyu, really.” You say, blinking up at him and tapping Seungcheol to loosen his grip on you. “You can touch me too, you know.”

He’s still reluctant, looking to Seungcheol once again for confirmation and receiving a nod. His hands reach out, touching nothing more than your bare shoulder before sliding down your waist and stepping even closer.

You can feel the warmth radiating off of them as they sandwich you there between them. Seungcheol and his confident breaths behind you easily contrast to Mingyu’s deeper, nervous breathing. You kind of get now why your husband told you to just watch for a little bit longer. Mingyu is so readable, with the way his eyes can’t find where to land, the way his hands know where they want to go but he clearly holds back from doing too much too soon out of fear that this entire agreement will shatter before his very eyes.

You hum out happily, leaning your head back against Seungcheol and pressing your hips forward, against Mingyu. Feeling entirely loved, wanted, needed.

“I missed this feeling,” You sigh out with a pleasured smile, throwing an arm out and over Mingyu’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. “I bet you’ll miss it too. I bet you’ll keep coming back for it.”

Seungcheol hums as well, nodding his head in agreement before blinking over at Mingyu and lifting a brow. He wonders how long they’re going to stand here staring at each other so, rolling his eyes dismissively, he presses on.

“I want to watch you eat her out.” He says, feeling that it’s not too out of the ordinary to make suggestions since Mingyu appears to be totally blinded by your tits right now anyway.

Mingyu nods with empty eyes, shortly before you see him physically break out of his presumed trance and take a step back, very nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wait, really?” He asks, somehow still unsure that this is a thing that’s actually happening as he regains balance.

“Oh, absolutely.” Seungcheol encourages him, using the emptied up space in front of you to maneuver you over to the bed.

Mingyu watches as your husband sits you down on the bed, grabs two pillows and places them behind you, then shimmies your pants off of you in a very loving way. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous of Seungcheol for being able to love someone enough to pleasure them using others or to be jealous of you for being loved so blatantly.

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, tapping your legs to spread them out and taking a step back to make room. “Go on.”

Mingyu’s legs take him there before his brain can think twice. One second he’s looking at you from the angle of the center of the room, the next he’s falling to his knees, staring straight between your legs at the point of his lust for the last however long. Slender fingers gripping your thighs much the same way Seungcheol did the first night he saw the two of you together like this.

It continues to hit him like a freight train. He’s here. He’s doing this. Not even a year ago he was sleeping in a different place, with a fiancée, making calls to find venues for a fucking wedding, and now he’s here. Between the legs of another man’s wife at his request.

Why is he so pleased with the drastic change of events? Why is his mouth watering looking at the small damp spot seeping through your panties? Why does he feel like he isn’t even himself at this moment?

None of it matters, not when you reach out and run your fingers through his hair to urge him forward. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose because it’s been a long time since he felt the loving touch of another person in his hair like this.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt the warmth of a woman in front of him, and even longer since he last felt this drunk on the atmosphere around him. Your soft fingers scratch against his scalp, and that alone makes his entire body shiver as he nuzzles against your thigh lovingly, leaving his kiss against your skin for the first time.

Seungcheol watches, not entirely used to a man acting like this with his wife. Usually, they’re already trying to get their cock inside of her, but Mingyu seems to be basking in the touch and feel of it all through each step and in a way, he understands. He was with someone for six years and planned to spend his life with her, he can imagine this is something Mingyu missed doing, despite the bitch not even wanting to gag on him.

He feels fond watching the two of you, situating himself on the bed and letting you lean up against him. There, he starts to work your bra off of you, matching Mingyu’s slowly paced arousal.

You, on the other hand, feel like your body is catching fire. That little gentle kiss against your thigh was followed by several more, peppered up to your panty line, down to your knees, and then right back up before he even thinks about leaving a kiss against the seat of your panties.

Which, he does eventually get to doing. Seungcheol watches your body jolt at the touch. He can tell you’ve been anticipating it since Mingyu got on his knees but knows you’re both pacing yourselves for the sake of him being able to enjoy himself.

Seungcheol’s hands do remain on your tits through it, massaging and pinching against your nipples until they’re erect and sending jolts of sensations straight to your core. Thankfully, Mingyu appears to be preparing himself to see your arousal up close and personal by this point, keeping his lips right up against it as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties.

He looks up at you, still searching for confirmation on instinct and can’t help but feel that the green light was given the second he moved into the house next door with the way you both look at him.

You’re not the only one being loved on right now. He feels entirely taken care of simply for being able to go down on you, and he wants nothing more in this world than to make you feel good.

So, he does his best. Reaching his arms forward and gripping the sides of your panties before gently pulling them down. He watches as your, by now very wet, panties unstick from your folds as he reveals it to himself and honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point at how he blatantly moans over it.

And just as you thought he was going to take his time like before, it’s like your entire world is flipped upside down. You take in a sharp and surprised inhale at the way he’s got his tongue on you the second your panties hit the floor.

Seungcheol laughs at your surprise, internally praising Mingyu for that sudden jolt of confidence he must have gotten to do that after unintentionally teasing you for far too long. He can feel your nipples react to what he’s doing, and through the sound of Mingyu’s tongue, his groans through the taste of you, even he feels like he’s going insane just sitting with you against him like this.

“Fuck,” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue leaves no part of your pussy unexplored. “Fuck.” You continue, totally speechless and unable to praise him the way you’d very much like to right now.

When you run your fingers through his hair again, feeling the way he moves his head beneath them he stiffens his tongue as he slides it up your entire pussy, then lands on your clit and begins to flick his tongue at such a pace that your legs nearly close in on him.

Seungcheol is there though, quickly reaching down to hold your legs open for him.

“Sensitive?” He gleefully whispers to you, watching the way you grip Mingyu’s hair in your fingers through the obvious struggle. He knows you won’t answer, which is fine, because he loves when you get like this. Though it’s never through a man simply giving you some good head.

Mingyu continues his assault with his tongue, so drunk on the taste of you that all he can do is keep going. Keep tasting, flicking your clit until it’s swollen before sliding back down again and burying his tongue inside of you as deep as it’ll go. Like he can’t get enough, especially with the way your hips wiggle to get away, with the way your fingers try to weakly tug his head away from you.

He hopes this is exactly what Seungcheol wanted to see, because he couldn’t be happier to fulfill the request. Moaning into you only to breathe nothing but you back in. His cock still neglected from a full day of arousal, tasting you alone is soaking his pants. Never has he felt so desperate for something. Never.

Even when he can feel the bed shift and your legs close around his head again, he continues.

“Hold her legs open for me,” Seungcheol instructs as he pulls himself off of the bed, now seemingly so aroused that he feels the need to involve himself. He shimmies off his clothing and props himself back up on the bed, directly next to you and easily holding his length to bump against your slacked and moaning mouth.

You readily accept your husband’s length into your mouth. Instantly taking him as deeply as you can out of sheer arousal. Wanting to do the dirtiest things your brain can come up with solely because of how good everything feels right now. Seungcheol loves it, especially with how greedy you seem as you furrow your brows and will yourself to take more into your mouth.

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, reaching over to tap his hand that’s putting his obvious strength to use against your thighs to get his attention. “Look.”

Mingyu does, after sliding his tongue back up and flicking your clit several more times to get those satisfying shakes of your body in reaction. His eyes trail up as he finally takes a breath of fresh air, only now realizing that you’re both entirely naked.

“If you keep coming back,” Seungcheol starts, moving his hand to caress your cheek before holding the back of your head in place. “this” he punctuated with a hard thrust into your mouth, gagging you. “is what you have to look forward to.”

Mingyu watches as Seungcheol holds your head there, continuously gagging, and then he glances down to your pussy and goddamn. You’re clenching around nothing each time you gag, and the moans you’re letting out along with your gags sends him over edge. His tongue is immediately back on you, satiating that clench with his tongue as best he can.

The sound of Seungcheol’s ever expected fond reactions goes unnoticed by Mingyu as he puts his entire fucking soul into eating you out.

Thankfully, you’re able to breathe shortly after, kind of. Save for the fact that when Mingyu’s isn’t knocking the breath out of you, Seungcheol is stealing it by blocking your airways with his length and moaning all the same.

The entire room sounds so erotic, and everything still feels like it’s on fire. Your sensitivity subsides as your focus falls to pleasing your husband, leading your hips to chase Mingyu’s hungry tongue anywhere it goes.

It stays like this for a few minutes, all three of you seemingly lost in each other before you feel your husband lean over, allowing you to take care of his length without his help and sliding them straight to where Mingyu’s tongue is.

There, he easily slides in two fingers, and still, Mingyu doesn’t stop. It doesn’t phase him one bit. His tongue continues, working around Seungcheol’s fingers and sometimes even licking around them to taste the arousal that seeps from deep inside of you. By now though, he’s humping up, wanting more, more, more. Your hips chase his tongue and your husband’s fingers the same way his hips chase nothing.

Seungcheol only likes him more by this point. Even the times they have been with curious men, typically they’re not licking your pussy and his fingers. Mingyu is so peculiar about this, and arguably his lack of experience is what’s making this feel so fucking magical. His attention doesn’t appear to be divided between the both of you, nor does it even appear to be solely on you like he thinks it is.

He’s treating you both as if you’re one person, one soul, and appears to accept anything either of you offer as long as you feel good and Seungcheol is satisfied with how things are going.

Never has their bedroom been this silent of words either, especially when someone else is involved. There’s always crude words, but at this point all three of you seem to understand that you’re experiencing rather than trying to put on a show. You’re not competing, you’re not rushing for the finish line, you’re just, fucking, existing within pleasure.

“He’s a natural.” Seungcheol compliments, sliding his fingers up and out of you, feeling Mingyu’s tongue graze against the entire length of one of them and moaning loudly at the warmth and taste. “Wonder what else he can do?”

You smile when you pull off of Seungcheol’s, now leaking, cock and look down at Mingyu. He’s already looking up at you, lips glistening much like his eyes are as he plants more kisses up your body. Solely because Seungcheol practically hides your entire pussy from him as a hint to move his hungry assault elsewhere.

He does, happily. He’s satisfied even as he kisses up your belly and feels like he doesn’t need to ask to plant those same glistening lips against one of your nipples and fondle it with his tongue just as beautifully as he did with your clit.

He leaves space for Seungcheol’s hand when he moves up, trying to be careful to avoid his hard on brushing against anywhere where it’s not wanted, which doesn’t seem to be much of an issue because Seungcheol pulls his hand back shortly anyway, pulling off of the bed and studying the two of you.

You hug Mingyu’s head while he worships the chest he’s stared at from his window day after day. Seungcheol can clearly see how shy Mingyu is, but he still seems to be doing everything in a way that makes you both love it. At this point, it wouldn’t even matter what he does, he knows you’d go insane over it, and that’s enough for him to allow it.

He can’t help himself when he leans over you to kiss you, seemingly so in love with you, careful not to accidentally bump Mingyu’s head from your tit and probably cause some sort of huff or pout out of him.

“Lay him back.” Seungcheol says to you through his kiss, pinching your chin to keep your lips on his for a few moments longer before letting you go.

The way your eyes shine, and the way Mingyu’s tongue seems to never tire, you’re almost sad to pull him off of you. But you do, nonetheless, guiding him to stand to his feet and finally running your hands up his torso to urge his shirt off of him.

You stare at his abdomen, touching and feeling each dip of it. His arms are just as big and toned, and god damn is his cock huge. You could tell from the window, and you can tell here, even while it’s clothed.

“Off.” You say, tugging him forward by his jeans and sitting yourself up.

He laughs at the movement, looking between the two of you and honestly, damn. You’re both so fucking beautiful right now. He’d be delighted to take these pants off, and he does.

Shortly after, you instruct him to lay back on the bed and he’s only getting more and more comfortable with the situation. Doing exactly as instructed, not even embarrassed by his angry and heavy cock twitching in near pain to be touched.

“God, look at him.” You comment, now moving yourself on the bed to lean on one elbow and trail your fingers up his abs.

His entire body twitches at the touch, and he winces just a little bit with a sexually frustrated huff.

“Should I fuck him?” You ask, looking up at Seungcheol, who was actively already fisting his length shamelessly at all of the ideas he has in his head that you could to do Mingyu, or of what Mingyu could do to you.

“Do you want that?” Seungcheol asks, looking over to Mingyu and watching the way he straight up nods shamelessly and practically grabs you by the arm to pull you on top of him.

“So eager,” You laugh, throwing your leg over him and instantly seating yourself directly on his cock. Feeling how huge it is, how hard it is.

Mingyu moans at that alone, hands shooting to your waist and squeezing so hard that you know it’ll leave a painful sensation later.

“Go on then, fuck him.” Seungcheol says, amused with how badly this man wants it.

And you do, without much more of a warning. You lift yourself and expertly slide straight down on his pathetic cock. You watch Mingyu as you do it, struggling to breathe through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his length and attempting to adjust to his size.

Mingyu runs his own fingers through his hair now, trying to keep himself grounded by the feeling he’s missed out on for so fucking long. He lets out a long and drawn out moan, cursing at the feeling and nearly tearing up at how fucking tight you are.

“Shit-” Mingyu breathes out, holding your waist still as if to keep you from moving, then he’s wrapping you in a hug and pulling you straight down against his chest.

Seungcheol skews his head, taking a step closer to see how well his friend fits inside of you and damn. Your pussy is clenching every passing second trying to adjust, and Mingyu's entire body is reacting to it. Naturally, Seungcheol has no choice but to grip his cock harder at the scene, biting back his own desperate moan so that he can still appear to be collected about this.

As you lay in Mingyu’s arms though, with the harsh hold of his arms keeping you in place, you can’t help but groan at the searing stretch inside of you. And he, on the other hand, is being driven crazy by the smell of your hair. Honestly, the scent alone is driving him wild enough that it’s a struggle to keep his own hips from writhing with the need to stretch your pussy out more.

“Keep him still while you make room for me.” Seungcheol finally chokes out. “Don’t let him come yet.”

You breathlessly nod, trying to press yourself up from Mingyu’s heaving chest just to grip onto his shoulders and bounce against his desperate attempts to stop you. He gives in after the second bounce though, going from trying to hold you down on him to loosening up and almost helping you bounce.

“That’s it, that’s exactly what she wants–” Seungcheol compliments, running his fingers up your back and making you shiver. “Right, babe?”

You try to answer, but you moan out instead with the way Mingyu’s hands keep you bouncing at such a pace that your g-spot is being repeatedly fucked against. And when he moves his hands to your ass, he loses himself to the pleasure as his eyes darken even more, fucking up now, deeper into you when you slide down on him.

“So deep,” You nearly sob out, hands reaching out for Seungcheol somewhere behind you, and he’s quick to be there for you.

“Feels good?” He asks, leaning onto the bed to kiss against your face. “You moan so good for him, I know it does.”

Mingyu moans before you can, sinking his head further into the pillows and letting himself get lost in the feeling of you bouncing on him. Seungcheol was right about this before, you do get wet. Fucking soaked.

“Ready for more?” Seungcheol asks now, seemingly ready to give you more than either of you know you can handle.

Still, you nod, knowing exactly what he’s wanting to do. You adjust the way you bounce, now leaning back onto Mingyu’s chest so that Mingyu’s cock slamming into you is on full display for Seungcheol.

“Slow down for a second, Gyu,” Seungcheol says, liking the nickname well enough to use it himself. “Let me show you what sharing feels like.”

And holy fuck, Mingyu is not prepared for it. He’s shocked that you’re wanting it, with the way you pant out breathless, pained moans against his collar bone as Seungcheol makes attempts to stretch you out more than you already are.

Mingyu holds onto those little pants, feeling your hands grip against his body as your husband nudges the head of his cock inside, causing both of you to cry out with a desperate sound.

Inch by inch, Seungcheol works himself in, holding his breath and soothing your back throughout the process, up until he’s managed to fit about as much as he can into you and thrusting forward just once to test the waters.

“Goddamn, such a tight fit.” He half-moans through a laugh, pulling out and thrusting in again, harder.

The reaction is more than Seungcheol could ever have wanted. Both of you, clinging to each other through the overwhelming sensation. Mingyu, probably overly sensitive from the feeling of your pussy gripping him and Seungcheol’s cock massaging the underside of it as he chases his own pleasure. Then there’s you, constantly clenching to adjust, letting out little pleased cries that only get prettier and prettier, especially when they’re mixed in with Mingyus.

At this point, Seungcheol can barely tell which one of you is moaning, but it’s all the same to him and he begins to do the work for all three of you. Loving the way he’s managed to make his wife and another man fall apart beneath him.

“God, you both love it.” He says, knowing for a fact that you’re both too gone by now to hear him. Which is good, because he can’t hold his own moans in anymore.

So, he doesn’t. He grips your hips to hold you in place and continues to thrust, feeling your pussy relax with each thrust until even Mingyu is able to fuck up slightly. And for you, feeling both cocks sliding into you opposite of each other, you really can’t comprehend a single thing outside of pleasure right now.

You can hardly breathe, so talking isn’t entirely on your agenda, still though. You try.

“Fuck, fuck–” You breathe out, gripping even tighter onto Mingyu now.

“So fucking wet,” Seungcheol soothes, offering a harsher thrust now that he’s beginning to lose himself to the feeling too.

“So fucking, big–” You say, mostly into Mingyu’s ear despite your husband having a good size as well. “Fuck me open, pretty boy, show my husband how you like to come.”

Seungcheol smirks at your hushed and out-of-breath words, you always get dirty when you’re super turned on. Plus, the way Mingyu follows instructions is insanely sexy too.

In fact, he follows your instructions a little too well. Somehow, Mingyu overpowers both your weight on him and Seungcheol’s harsh thrusts. To the point that he actually has to stop moving his own hips because if he doesn’t, Mingyu will get all three of you off within seconds if he keeps going at this pace.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Seungcheol moans in probably the most erotic voice you’ve ever heard come from him before. Because, never in your life alongside him have you heard him have to cut off his comments with a moan. “he likes it fucking rough.”

And he’s not lying. Part of you wonders if Mingyu has ever been able to fuck this way, because even as you and your husband manage to find room to converse through this, Mingyu is still gone and lost in his own world. Still holding onto you, and still fucking into you so hard that you’re very nearly releasing little yelps each time he bottoms out.��

Seungcheol, on the other hand, knows exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting close. Usually knowing before you do, and he really does his best to keep his composure through this. He does his damndest to hold off, amazed that Mingyu lasted past the first instance of you sinking down on him.

Shaking hands reach between you and Mingyu, and you’re quick to sit up and lean back against Seungcheol instead to let him have access to your clit. Despite his cock slipping out of you slightly, he can still manage to fuck a few inches in at this angle, and honestly it’s a welcome relief because if he continued any further, he worries your clit would be left long neglected by his brain malfunctioning in a sudden orgasm.

You smile in a daze as you stare down at Mingyu, his eyes droopy and hooded when he opens them, but for the most part remaining closed and focused on fucking you as good as he can. And paired with the sensation of Seungcheol rubbing your clit, you’re rendered useless in announcing that you’re close.

Thankfully, your lovely, amazing, and doting husband knows you as well as you know yourself.

“Keep going,” He says, out of breath and reaching his other hand up to hold one of your tits in his hand, lips going to your neck. “She’s close.”

Mingyu lets out a choked moan at the same time you let one out, and instantly Seungcheol pulls out with a pleased and frustrated moan.

“Let him feel it, babe,” Seungcheol says, now focusing solely on rubbing your clit with one hand and fucking his fist with the other. ”Squeeze him.”

God, you do, coming undone wrapped around his Mingyu’s relentless cock, pulsing and shaking as Seungcheol makes no attempt to ease the orgasm out of you. His fingers only circle your clit harder, and Mingyu only fucks up harder.

“Fuck, Mingyu,” Seungcheol calls out, watching the man in awe. “How are you holding out right now?”

Mingyu blinks up, his eyes totally lost to arousal and he continues to fuck into you far past your orgasm ending, loving the slide of how much wetter you got through it. He feels like he’s fucking half a year’s worth of himself into you, which is fair. Because he definitely is.

“Look at him babe, tell him it’s okay.” Seungcheol continues, wanting Mingyu to get off so that he can stop holding off on his own. It’s entirely insane how much self-control this man has.

Not even Seungcheol himself could withstand this without losing a bit of self control, and yet, god. He really is the perfect third. The perfect neighbor.

This is an indication that Seungcheol is about to go full cuckold and work at himself as you take what you want from Mingyu, and you really do try.

Your legs shake around him as you continue to try and ride him, leaning down to hover over his lips in a faux first kiss to tell him to rest his hips, and he does, sighing out a little sound of relief as you take back the control.

He’s never been so fucking turned on in his life, and in all honestly, not even he knows how he hasn’t gotten off yet. He’s needed it all day. He’s needed it all his fucking life, it seems.

Seungcheol studies the way your tired legs work, the pace slowing down minute by minute before he steps in. His control now fully regained as his orgasm fades and he can continue to instruct and enjoy without a wall of pure sex invading his actions. He releases his cock now, stilling your hips and pulling you off of Mingyu.

The sound alone is somehow filthier than any porn he’s ever heard. Sloppy and wet, paired with Mingyu’s frustrated groan at the loss of warmth.

“Gyu, take the lead.” Seungcheol says, helping you to lay back and rubbing your thighs to soothe them.

Mingyu, of course, jumps into action immediately. Lifting from his spot and situating himself between your legs with ease. Now being able to see you under him, rather than hovering above him, he feels like he has all the power in the world to treat you right.

“Anything you want,” He says, already adjusting himself with your pussy and pressing in. “Anything, just tell me.”

You’re entirely endeared by his words and can’t help it when you pull him down in a huff and connect your lips to his for the first time. He melts into it, fucking his hips into you at a slower pace now, deeper, more lazily.

He’s smelling you and feeling you entirely, every sensation in the world he could ever want is being satiated right now, and he’s not ashamed to whine through it. Pumping himself into you until it hits him.

So hard does it hit him, each thrust milking him entirely of his cum and not trembling once through it. His cock has been sensitive all day, this new sensitivity is welcome to him as long as you continue to lick into his mouth and scratch against his back like this.

It’s a given that he was a goner the second he got on top, and when he finally empties the last, impossible amount of cum into you, his ears pop and begin to ring.

“You guys look so cute–” Seungcheol coos, helping Mingyu out of you on wobbly legs before he leans down to scoop some of the mess out of you. “Now, you lay back too,” he adds, still toying with the cum dripping from you.

He does, relieved and thankful for the rest after that exhausting experience. He’s out of breath when he flops himself down next to you, turning his head slightly to look at you and how content you seem to be. It makes him feel content too, even without your lips against his.

There, Seungcheol scoops some of that cum out of you and slathers his fingers with it, shuffling forward onto the bed to place himself between your legs now. Then, his fingers make their way over to Mingyu.

“Taste it.” He says, wondering if Mingyu will fight the idea of doing it.

Shockingly, he doesn’t. He opens his mouth with ease and sucks Seungcheol’s fingers into his mouth. You watch, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the taste of himself mixed with you. You groan out, throat dry from the embarrassing amount of moaning before wiggling your hips.

“Patience, babe,” Seungcheol says, not even glancing at you and keeping his eyes trained on the way Mingyu eagerly licks his fingers clean before releasing his fingers and blinking over to you, and then up at him.

“You’re both going to fucking kill me.” Seungcheol lets out, rolling his eyes before training them on you. “Gonna stuff this mess back into you, yeah?”

You nod obediently.

You’re so content, readily accepting your husband in his rightful place and basking in the familiar feeling of his length pressing inside of you. It’s a feeling you know, and a feeling you love despite having already been fucked open by both of them already.

At this point, it’s not even just arousal in the air. But like, a weird secret second thing that somehow feels more content than content.

Seungcheol is in love with the way you look right now though, arguably so for Mingyu too. With his fucked out face looking just as drowsy as yours does despite the sun setting when all of this started. It’s not as late into the night as it seems to feel, which is fine because time seems like it works differently at this moment.

“Kiss her,” Seungcheol says, with a last gift to Mingyu for fucking you so well. “Thank her.”

He does, because of course he does. He dips in so fast, cradling your face in the same delicate way he touched your thighs from before. Kissing you just as gently, all while Seungcheol takes his time to slide into you with such a fulfilling pace that, honestly, if you will it hard enough, you could probably get off another three times if you wanted to.

But you don’t, putting that filthy side of you to rest as you allow your husband to take what he needs. His pace quickening much like Mingyu’s kisses do, up until you’re bouncing up with each thrust of his hips, and Mingyu is left chasing your lips. Up, down, up, down.

He chuckles into it, his teeth catching your bottom lip a few times before chasing your lips harder, all for Seungcheol to admire from above.

And admire it, he does. Loving the way you kiss Mingyu in a playful way compared to himself. There’s passion here, and it makes it all the more easy for him to work himself up to his own orgasm.

You’re not shocked at Seungcheol’s silence through his own high. Pressing his hips so tightly against yours, trying to bury himself as deeply as he can go to release all of this tension inside of his body. You still feel as full as you did when they both were inside of you, but this is something entirely different. It’s Seungcheol, and it still shows that he’s the one person on this Earth who knows you better than you know yourself.

He knows you love to feel his cock pulse inside of you, know your love when it dribbles down your thighs as you wobble to the bathroom, and now apparently, he knows you seem to love kissing Mingyu through the entire experience. Clenching against his orgasm as if you were already willing to start over from the beginning.

And just like that, he pulls out and lays on the other side of you, stealing your lips from Mingyu briefly and kissing you. Both out of appreciation and love.

The clean up was devastating. Poor fucking Mingyu, never realizing that aftercare is like, a huge important factor to fucking that hard. Which only solidifies it to both you and your husband that he’s clearly never been given the sexual freedom he so needed.

The two of you exchange side eyes at the way Mingyu expects to shower alone and take care of himself, despite walking straight into a wall on wobbly legs with sleepy, mostly closed eyes.

You help him to the shower, Seungcheol allowing you to join him and clean him up as he sits just outside and waits to ultimately clean himself up this time. After all, Mingyu was the one who fucked you senseless this time, the least he can do is learn how to clean up the mess and soothe your muscles.

Fortunately, he seems to be pleased to learn and eager to put his new knowledge to use. Standing there under the warm water with a blissed out little smile, hands gently caressing your core as if to soothe your sensitivity. Obviously, it doesn’t work that way but, you still give him credit for it.

By the time you’re done showering, Mingyu is practically dead weight. Literally fucked himself to sleep, it seems, as Seungcheol laughs out and nods to the guest room, which he already made up for him.

You help him to the room while Seungcheol helps himself to shower, where puddles of water remain on the floor.

Apparently you and Mingyu both share the trait of not using a towel to step on after a shower. Which is only more of a reason to like him.

Seungcheol likes taking care of people.

When Mingyu wakes up the next morning, sunlight blaring through closed blinds, his half asleep brain realizes very quickly what happened.

He’s embarrassed again, but the content feeling in his chest replaced the heavy one he had been holding about the entire situation. He had fun. He liked it. No, he loved it. So much so that for the first time in his life, he’s needed to pass the fuck out immediately after.

And it’s not long after he wakes up, lying there in thought, that he hears a soft knock at the door.

You’re poking your head in, blinking over at him and admiring his sleep hair. Which isn’t too different compared to his sex hair, and you smile.

“Good morning,” You say, stepping into the room and revealing Seungcheol close behind you. “Wanna go again?”

Mingyu dead pans at both of you. You’re both fucking insane.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seungcheol smut #kim mingyu smut #s.coups smut

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rickybaby · 1 month

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We keep talking about media literacy, but it's actually something very difficult to put into practice in this very overcrowded F1 media ecosystem, especially for new fans. I thought it would be a good idea to put together a list of reliable sources to hopefully make this year's silly season easier to navigate.

Publications

Auto Motor und Sport (more commonly known as AMuS) - the German publication is arguably considered as the most reliable source for F1 news. Most other publications will very often quote AMuS as source.

Speedcafe.com - Australia's foremost motorsport website. Mat Coch, their F1 editor, has access to Daniel's management and was one of the first people to seek clarification from Daniel's team when the rumour that he would be replaced by Miami first cropped up.

Other reliable publications: Autosport, Motorsport, PlanetF1 (caution to be advised with PlanetF1 because very often, it just quotes sources like AMuS or tends to have a lot of clickbait articles), BBC F1.

Journalists

Chris Medland - Chris is a freelance journalist with permanent FIA accreditation. He usually writes for RACER.COM. In my opinion, he is the most reliable from the whole cohort of journalists on twitter. He may not always be the one to break a story, but if he tweets out about a rumour or story, this is pretty much confirmation that the rumour or story is true.

Nate Saunders - Nate writes for ESPN F1 and is generally considered to be the Ricciardo camp mouthpiece. However, this does not necessarily mean he is, at all times, privy to insider information from Daniel's camp. Look out for him quoting 'sources close to ...'

Thomas Maher - Thomas writes for PlanetF1 and while PlanetF1 is not the most reliable of publications, I think Thomas is a good source to follow on twitter as he is pretty good at reaching out to his sources in the paddock when it comes to seeking clarification on a rumour.

Erik Van Haren - the Dutch journalist writes for the Telegraaf. He has the reputation of being close to the Max & Jos Verstappen camp and was the first one to break the Christian Horner SH story. Therefore, anything he writes about Max or Red Bull can be more or less be relied upon.

Albert Fabrega - he is a longstanding reporter with great technical expertise and is considered as the go-to source for the Spanish/ Spanish-speaking drivers, especially Alonso. Though, caution to be exercised after the whole 'I cannot believe what I have just been told' thing he pulled last year.

Lawrence Barretto - Lawrence is a presenter for F1. He is one of my favourites in the paddock and from time to time, he will have some insider information when it comes to Daniel. He was the first one to report on Daniel's best lap at the Silverstone being good enough for the front row.

F1 Pundits

There is a whole host of characters who act as commentators or guests across a variety of international broadcasts over a race weekend (or some of them just hang around the paddock). Think Martin Brundle, Crofty, Karun Chandhok, Damon Hill, Jacques Villeneuve, David Coulthard, Eddie Jordan, Ralf Schumacher ...

Their opinions are invariably given a lot of weight by virtue of most of them being former drivers or World Champions, but fact remains that many of them have no insight into what's actually happening within a team. However, that being said, a few of them still have close relationships with some of the teams, for e.g., David Coulthard with Red Bull or Mika Hakkinen with McLaren and whatever they say about these teams could potentially be relied upon.

Caution ⚠️

Joe Saward - Joe is rather notoriously known for his Green Notebook column on his blog. The column is supposedly meant to provide titillating insider information about F1, but it more often ends up being a regurgitation of the rumours that have been floating around that week. He has more misses than hits when it comes to rumours and anything he says needs to be taken with a generous dose of skepticism.

Will Buxton - if you see Will tweet something out, please lock your phone and walk away. This is not to say Will doesn't know what's happening in the sport - after all, he was the first one to give any indication of the Lewis to Ferrari story, but he is too committed to playing the game of shit-stirrer for engagement. The unfortunate thing is, we're all too human and we all invariably for his game and we end up going into a downward spiral of 'what does he mean???' when he tweets something out...

#i should also point out how certain of these so-called commentators are highly biased #re danica and villeneuve #there is also the whole italian media side who usually reports on ferrari related news which im not aware about #please feel free to correct anything in the post or add any other useful information #i'd say happy silly season but ricnation has perpetually been in silly season since 2022 #daniel ricciardo #information

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hoseoksluna · 1 month

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VAPOR, pt I. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc

genre: smut, a hint of angst

word count: 10.6k

summary: yoongi never promised his healing time would be easy and when he hurts you enough that you need your other "boyfriend", jungkook is quick to rescue you.

pinterest board: blur | playlist: car playlist

warnings: mentions of a sex toy, jungkook is upset and angry at his hyung, public sex, dirty talk, sexual tension and frustration, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), bruising, cum swallowing, going behind someone's back........

note: HI MY LOVES—MY STEAM DRABBLE IS HERE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED TO POST SOMETHING, OH MY GOSH. OKAY, before i say anything else, i would like to put a disclaimer here: even though all my characters are fictional, they are still human in this world, which means they fuck up, which means they're not perfect whatsoever and never will be. i would like to really put an emphasis on that before you read and if i receive any vulgar and rude asks about this, i assure you that i will not respond to them. OKAY ALL SERIOUSNESS ASIDE—this was fucking AMAZING TO WRITE and i already CANNOT WAIT to start writing another part, this time with yoongi included. i promise to make everything right and—SPOILER—this couple WILL get a happy ending, so don't worry, my loves. ENJOY READING. SPAM MY INBOX. I LOVE YOU.

There’s a mango-scented candle rustling in a bag, resting on the passenger seat, and Jungkook is driving very carefully so as to not knock it over and possibly break it. For a moment, one that reemerges in his headspace as he keeps his foot light on the pedal, he wonders if he should buckle a seatbelt around it and ensure its safety that way, his fear of ruining his surprise for you causing his brain to come up with the strangest of ideas—in the name of the love he carries for you.

Is it love, though?

Jungkook furrows his brows, that thought seizing his sternum enough that he has to turn his music down and let some fresh air in through the window so he doesn’t crash his fucking car. Icy sweat stings his spine, his stomach churning and without sparing a second longer, his eyes take after the sadness of the weather outside his vehicle. His vision blurs and he rubs his eye, one at a time, to focus on the road.

A red light blinks at him and suddenly, there’s fury that he feels deep within chest.

Conceivably because slowing down means he has to face the onrush of emotions sloshing in him. Has to hear the rain not just outside, but inside, too. Has to feel the prick of those raindrops along his waterline. The heft of those clouds outside and inside his clavicles as well, tightening and tightening.

Jungkook sighs, drumming his fingers upon his steering wheel, trying to distract himself from it all. From the invading question that absorbs his body like the vapor rising across the night-clothed street—when did he get so emotional?

Unfortunately, he knows the answer right away.

You’ve been sad. On your own.

It’s been a few weeks since all three of you made a deal to stick together. Yoongi has been brave, his good mood clutching him for a lot longer than Jungkook sadly estimated. You’ve spent these past two Fridays and weekends together, out and about, rolling in bed, rolling in Yoongi’s apartment. It was all fun and games until the boss reached a dead end. Somehow. Jungkook still doesn’t know what it was that Yoongi actually saw—what was that one particular thing that caused him to spiral.

To relapse.

And you didn’t tell him until it was too late.

Perhaps, you did tell him—nonverbally, that is. You stopped adding your signed messages whenever he was texting with Yoongi during the week and even those alone stopped coming in as the days went on. There was something wrong and he knew it. His intuition only proved to be right when another weekend showed its face and it contained no undertone of you. And no suggestion of Yoongi either.

Silence. Dead silence.

And it wasn’t until Jungkook got an incoming call from an unknown number half an hour ago that he realized the gravity of the situation.

It was you who called him up, sobbing into the phone, having stolen his number from Yoongi’s device. As difficult as it was to understand what happened, Jungkook tied all the strings of information you gave him between your broken breaths and blubbering: Yoongi hasn’t spoken to you all day and took a shower alone, the latter being the most devastating of the two.

He felt bad for you, terribly bad for you—but simultaneously, he was upset with you.

Still is.

It’s one of the reasons why he’s driving up to Yoongi’s apartment. With a mango-scented candle and a puffed-up bag of cheese balls. He doesn’t want to think what the other reasons are, not when he’s staring down his gift for you, clicking his tongue at last and reaching over for the seatbelt and sliding it into its buckle. Just in time for the traffic light to turn green.

Now, now he’s speeding down the road, turning up the volume of his car playlist. A slow song by the Arctic Monkeys is playing and it’s a movie—the set of circumstances that are happening in the present. The rain, the tightness in his chest, the but faint adrenaline of the momentum. What is he really doing?

It feels as though he’s following a script, however his eyes haven’t skimmed down the entire thing. He doesn’t know how this is going to end. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’s doing the right thing because he’s planning on staying outside of his hyung’s apartment. Like hell he’s going inside when his sweetheart—

Jungkook purses his lips. Moves the shift stick. Kills the engine. Closes his eyes.

His heart thumps. Turbulently. It stirs worry in him. What if he’s going to die?

This is the first time he’s left in the hands of the unknown. He’s always had the sixth sense of knowing tactness like the back of his hand, although this time he doesn’t know shit. Doesn’t know if he’s breaking his best friend’s trust. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen once he sees you, possibly wearing one of your nighttime robes. The last time you touched him was the last time he had his release. His hand doesn’t feel as good as yours does—and his orgasm isn’t as fulfilling as when it’s shared with you. He’s brimming with frustration, with anger so vast that he could explode and he knows it’s unfair to be mad at Yoongi, when he himself said it wasn’t going to be easy, that it was going to take a lot of work. But Jungkook can’t help his feelings. Can’t help to see you.

Only you.

Broken, tear-stained, when it should be blush painting your cheeks red from all the love and happiness your own boyfriend should give you as it’s his duty. Something he’s responsible for. Something he should put above himself.

“Drunken monologues, confused because it's not like I'm falling in love, I just want you to do me no good and you look like you could,” Alex Turner sings and Jungkook’s chin quivers, his heart gaining tempo, his perturbation rising—owing to the violence of that muscle, owing to the state of your feelings.

He wonders if you’re still crying.

He’s outside of Yoongi’s apartment. Didn’t even realize it, mind too fucked up, too full of you.

Grabbing his phone, he sends you a text.

I’m here. Come outside

A reply pings right away.

SWEETHEART: ?

SWEETHEART: it’s raining

He’s halfway typing his response that he doesn’t want to go inside, but he decides against it. Doesn’t want to make it worse for you. If you knew of the dark corners of his mind that don’t particularly like Yoongi at the moment, you wouldn’t look at him with those pretty eyes of yours as you always do.

He can’t afford that.

I have an umbrella

As his thumb hovers above his phone, waiting for your reply, he can almost hear your sigh. Can feel your breath on his clammy palm as he rubs it on his pants in effort to rid himself of the nerves crawling in his veins. The breath he was favored enough to hold in his grasp the last time he had you to himself—clamping your mouth shut as he spanked your clit for being so beautifully responsive to his touch, rubbing it until your eyes whisked back while Yoongi slept beside you, unaware.

It’s engraved in his brain. It plays on loop before sleep overtakes him at night and it’s his first thought in the morning once consciousness reminds him that you’re not his.

SWEETHEART: is it cold outside?

He figures you’re asking the question in order to decide whether you should change or not. It seems as though warm pajamas don’t exist in your world, for the beginning of September is in the process of blooming. It nudges his anger; provokes it enough to fill it with a lethal dose of a yearning to buy you the warmest pair of pants he could find. He clenches his fist, thumb quick to type a response.

Wear something that covers your legs or stay home.

The same thumb shakes at the expression of his firmness, his anger disturbed, wholly—wholly disturbed. If you come out wearing your little shorts—

A reply pings again.

SWEETHEART: ok ill change

And another one right away.

SWEETHEART: ill text u when i come down

That’s a good girl.

He almost types it right then and there, but something within, despite the slowly calming storm of his feelings, despite his cock tightening in his pants at the swift image of your bare legs, at the lingering perception of you being a good girl and listening to him, drags his thumb to his emojis. A sudden renewal of his sixth sense, and he doesn’t understand how it’s happened as it dawns on him, makes him realize that’s not exactly what you need right now. You didn’t call him for a fuck.

You called him for emotional support.

👍🏻

And like the good girl you are, you merely take five minutes. Stay true to your words, text him as you’re coming down and Jungkook grabs his umbrella from the backseat. Doesn’t forget to unbuckle the seatbelt in the passenger seat. Saves himself from the embarrassment.

The trees sway in his direction, inviting him in, once he takes two steps at the time, coming up the stairs. He watches them through the clear roundness of his shield, beckoning him closer. The rain pelts against it, but softly this time. Merciful as it knows you’re about to emerge from the ocean of such unfathomable sadness. It doesn’t wish to frighten you, rather it desires to soothe your escaping, make it less harrowing. Even the wind that whips at him stills as soon as you open the door, bathed in light.

And Jungkook is struck with the notion that he wants to do the same.

You’re wearing flared leggings. Gray. With sneakers of the same color and a white top that hugs your waist, that seems way smaller than the last time he touched it. He gets a glimpse of it, and it unnerves him, as you lift your hand to curl a strand of your hair behind your ear because otherwise your body is shrouded in a flannel that’s too big for you. Too robust for you and your particular liking of tight, little clothes.

He doesn’t want to know who that garment belongs to. Doesn’t even want to come close to unfolding that thought, to even let it get a taste of his burning blood. Because there’s another matter at hand.

You’ve lost weight.

And he’s going to kill his hyung for it.

You step out and it’s an instinct, the way his arm draws closer to you so you don’t get touched by the rain, even if it means the raindrops get to trace the back of his head and the nape of his neck. Yet even that invigorating, tender liquid doesn’t cool the scorching lividness that takes place beneath his skin, beneath his bones. But then you touch his hand, left to left, drag it away and hide yourself in his chest. Everything changes when you do that.

Jungkook explodes. Silently. Gently. His chin quivers again and he doesn’t care that you can hear the tremor of his heart as you lay your ear against it. Doesn’t care that his grip might hurt you as he hugs you back, thinking he could wrap his arm twice around your much different waist. And he takes you like this. Back to his car. He doesn’t even feel the wetness pooling in his waterline, leading you as you walk backwards. And you laugh, you laugh softly while he inhales your mango scent that has somehow even crept up to your scalp, and he doesn’t believe it’s that easy.

It can’t be that easy to make you feel better.

He opens the door for you, a façade of nothingness plastered on his face as he tries his hardest to remain stoic so you wouldn’t see the turmoil churning within every perimeter of his body. And it’s an instinct, too, the way he catches your little purse when it slips off your shoulder, even though he doesn’t see it, too busy devouring your gaze—afraid, awfully afraid that tonight might be the last time he sees your pretty eyes, considering the contempt he’s now showing his hyung.

If Yoongi finds out about this, it’s over.

His life is over, too.

Anger, frustration, sadness, love—how is he able to feel all of those emotions at once? You purse your lips, your weary eyes skip his features all the way to his mouth, stopping at his lip ring and the question rises again in his brain.

Is it love?

The rain falls harder. And so does he, unfortunately.

“I got you something. It’s right there.” He tips his chin to the passenger seat without taking his gaze off of your busy eyes. They’re still looking at his mouth, watching every word come out. He finds it so endearing that there’s nothing more he wants to do than grab your cheeks and kiss you for it. Maybe his frustration would loosen a little bit if he did it. “Don’t sit on it.”

It’s that addition to his previous sentence that causes you to flick those pretty irises of yours up to his. And he studies it as the double meaning uncoils in your brain, even though it was by accident that it tumbled out of his mouth. The weariness in your orbs parts like clouds upon the heavens, though no sunshine spills through them. There’s still a lingering blankness, something unknown, something foreign. Then, the tiniest of smiles curls your mouth and it jolts through him, his heart thudding harder—to the point that even more profound discomfort settles in.

“Did you get me a dildo? I could use one right now.”

The perplex that seizes him almost causes his legs to give out. And he can’t help it, the way his eyes roll back and his hand, with your purse hanging from his forearm, runs down his face. Jungkook wants to get drenched in the rain—maybe if the raindrops put out the sudden fire licking at his every nerve ending, maybe then he’ll come to understand how you manage to be in the mood when your state of mind can’t possibly let you have dirty thoughts.

His cock tightens again and he calls you by your name, firmly. He can’t have this. Not right now. He needs to be sensible. You need it. “Get in the car.”

You listen, but your smile falters. Grabbing your bag from his forearm, you turn around, bending over to wrap your fist around the bag on the passenger seat. Jungkook doesn’t mean to look at your delicious round cheeks and once he discovers that they’re hidden under that layer of the hideous flannel, he sighs a breath of relief. He can’t look at you that way. Averts his gaze, immediately.

As soon as you’re seated, he clicks the door shut. Considers letting the rain have him. Did he make a mistake, being firm with you?

Inside his car, his favorite song is mellowly playing. In the mere few seconds, you’ve managed to suffuse the entire atmosphere with your mango scent and Jungkook inhales it. It takes him into a whole different world, one filled with eternal sunlight as the song portrays it. He finds himself in a country of spring that has been briskly rained upon and now is being softly seared with those shafts of light and speckles of heat, the details of your beauty.

“For the love of my life, she's got glow on her face…” the singer sings and the lyrics plod into his mind. Jungkook wishes the description applied to you at this very moment like it had before, like it had every single time he stole a glance at you. He misses your glow and your glitter and it pierces his unstable heart that he finds no traces of those particles of shimmer on your cheekbones and eyelids as you’re rummaging through the bag, not even on your cupid’s bow as you gasp, gently, discovering he bought you your favorite things.

You’re looking at him with such smothered joy and it would relieve his feelings if he didn’t feel such guilt, if he didn’t feel as though he was a crumbling pillar, a failure undeserving of your time.

You take the candle into your small hands. Such a stark contrast—his heart aches at the sight of it. You pop the lid open, sniff the aroma and your mouth rounds in a terribly, terribly cute manner. Jungkook is glad for the lack of light in the space of his car, which hides his growing manhood. He props an elbow on the door and pinches his nose, trying to regain his composure—

“It’s mango-scented,” you say in disbelief, pouting and Jungkook can’t breathe. “And cheese balls, are you kidding me?” You open the bag right away, plopping the treat into your mouth. He’s surprised you eat just one—it doesn’t feel right. “Thank you. Honestly. Thank you.” You cradle it into your chest and Jungkook has to look away.

What has Yoongi done to you that you react this way to such silly things? He needs to ask, but he fears your answer. And what’s worse, he fears what he’ll do to him once you tell him.

“What did you tell him?” He needs to get away from this place, but it has to correlate with your plan, if there even is any. If not, he’ll handle it. Figure something out.

You take a sharp breath, loading your gifts back into the bag, keeping it nice and safe on your lap. Then, you lick your lips and look at him with an intention that causes his heart to jump right there onto the wonderfully clothed flesh of your thighs. “I told him I was going home.”

Home. Since the moment he knew of your existence, your home has been the place wherever Yoongi resided. It never mattered where. Jungkook grips the steering wheel, knuckles white. “Where do you live?”

You tell him your address. He knows that from this day on, he’ll never, ever forget it. He starts the engine, wondering in the meantime about the ordinariest things of your life. Do you live there during the week and spend your weekends at Yoongi’s apartment? Or has he completely overtaken your life that you spend every hour of it in his presence? He wants to know. And he wants to get some food in that slim tummy of yours. “Do you have any food there? When was the last time you were there?”

It’s you who looks away now, staring ahead, playing with your fingers while the rest are still wrapped around the bag. “I don’t live there anymore. Haven’t been there in months.”

Jungkook bites his lip. Too, too many questions are hovering in his brain—he barely has the capacity to think about them, let alone hurl them at you. “What did he say when you told him you were going home?”

You snivel and his heart on your thighs twitches in pain. He has to grip the steering wheel harder in order not to jump out of this car and kick down Yoongi’s door.

“Nothing.”

Jungkook puts the car in drive, wordlessly, seething inside. He’ll invent another plan while yours will remain its prototype. Will keep you safe.

Safe, fed and tearless.

The drive is quiet, save for the euphonious melodies emitting through his never-ending playlist. The rain has become less severe, soft in nature, only adding to the background noise—adding to the process of your mollification that he’s overseeing. He’s put a stop to the questions. Has figured you have enough of them, for the only reason you decided to lie to your own boyfriend and go behind his back was because you needed to get out of his clutches.

A decision he approves of.

The quietness has helped him regain his composure fully, set some things straight in his brain as the anger in him slowly dissipated. Space is good, for both his hyung and you and he’s proud of you for allowing yourself to get to this point that you walked away. Yoongi, evidently, has returned to his hermit tendencies and Jungkook knows very well that it’s something that he needs in his healing time. It’s who he is; who he always has been. He didn’t push him away too many times for him to be possibly wrong about this and while the information he gained from you that Yoongi changed his ways shattered Jungkook’s heart and glued it back together, he knew, somehow, deep within him, that it was just an effort. For you.

He didn’t think it was a façade because Yoongi is certainly not a phony person.

He did it for you. Tried his hardest. And succeeded. With your help, he’s sure—which makes it all the more beautiful—but Yoongi is still Yoongi.

Someone who deals with things on his own.

And although the distance he needs hurts other people, he doesn’t mean it. Jungkook knows this just as well, despite the fact what he truly thinks is that Yoongi should try harder.

For you.

He needs to tell you this. Needs you to know. But he doesn’t think you’re ready to hear it just yet, which is okay. The plan is constructed, he’s here for you and he will make you feel better. He will caress your heart and make your belly full. Will make you forget for a little while before he gently brings you back to reality.

You deserve this. After everything you’ve been through. Because of him. Because of Yoongi.

And because of this, he no longer feels guilty that he has you to himself without Yoongi knowing. Even if that means he risks his brotherhood, even if that means he risks his affection for you seeing the light of day.

You’re more important.

It’s this thought that gets interrupted by a sudden ring of your phone. You jump, zipping your purse open and Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road. He doesn’t really want to see the kind of picture you have Yoongi saved under. He has to keep his feelings intact. Remain calm.

Your breath shakes. “He’s video calling me.”

Sparks of electricity nip at his fingertips. A surge of adrenaline, the threatening, false notion that he’s doing the wrong thing. Jungkook almost smirks. It’s so fucking thrilling to him.

He lets you decide on your own what to do, but you grow unsure, nerves burdening you. He feels that heft and it’s quick to sober him up.

“Should I get out of this car? Say I’m taking a walk?” you ask, your pretty, pretty eyes wide, your pupils so tiny. Jungkook wants to take your hand in his, take your fear that makes you think these silly thoughts and crush it.

He’s here. He’s going to take care of this. Of you.

“Let it ring.”

You look back down at your phone, lip between your teeth, but Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, the red of the stoplight pervading you with the danger of your girlish freedom. And it does ring two more times before Yoongi gives up.

Good.

You have the right to need to distance yourself just as much as he does. Give him the same silent treatment like he did to you.

There’s a smug smirk plastered on his face when he catches you putting your phone back into your purse before the light turns green. He speeds down the road, driving with just one hand, ready to unfold his plan.

One he’s already shared with you.

He’s taking you to the mall.

His hand itches to take yours as you walk beside him. Strangers stare you down, but you keep your attention on the myriads of shops lining the side of the promenade. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that there’s so many people wasting their Thursday at such a place like this. At this hour, especially. It kind of makes him regret that he took you here, despite the fact the sole purpose of it was to feed you until you were full. The lights are too bright, children are screaming and running around and it’s giving him a headache, but one look at you changes his mind in an instant. The glow he missed has found its way back to your cheeks and there’s a glint to your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long while. The paleness is gone and he’s not really ignorant to the way a bush of roses begins to bloom in his chest at the realization.

You stop dead in your tracks all of a sudden. Your little purse slips off of your shoulder. As attentive as he always is, he slides it back up, a smile tugging his mouth to the side. He thinks it’s just so damn cute. And the fact you don’t pay any attention to it as well. Probably used to it.

Red posters of sale adorn the storefront that has caught your eye. Jungkook is unfamiliar with it, but you seem to be completely enthralled by it.

“Where do you wanna eat?” he provokes. Already knows what restaurant you’ll be feasting at, obviously, but poking you is a matter of enjoyment for him. “There’s so many food courts to choose from.”

You look at him and clutch your stomach, as if the mere mention of food made you hungry. A faint, faded light flashes across that glint in your irises before it dwindles away and Jungkook is ready to throw you over his shoulder and push people off of his path to get you there right now.

“Can we… go here first?” you ask, hesitatingly, grabbing a hold of his elbow, but he feels as though you’re squeezing his heart, wringing it out of all that liquid emotion that he swallowed down earlier in the car. Your touch is warm, like the pond water kissed by the sun back at his cabin, seeping into his skin and languidly streaming through his body.

It’s automatic, primal and right, the way he clasps his other hand across your fingers wrapped around his bicep and the way your body draws closer to his. It should be normal to do this when he’s seen you bare—when he’s seen you feral, needy and disappear into your pleasure, one he’s the creator of. Why does it feel so thrilling? So dangerous?

You can meander through as many stores as you want. And he tells you that, or at least tries to, as he smiles at you, softly, and nods his head, letting you lead him inside the shop that has so vehemently caught your attention.

A trillion styles of jeans, tiny tops, skirts and shorts of the same size, Jungkook understands your fascination as he takes it all in. And he’s pleasantly surprised when you indulge him as you fondle every material of every clothing you like, telling him how pretty you find it. You’re not timid to show him your disappointment either, wrinkling your nose, when the fabric is too frail or too expensive for the price, muttering vulgarities directed to capitalism and leading him away.

It isn’t until your sight stumbles upon a rack of dresses that your breath, audibly, hitches in your throat. And you unlink your arm from his, going straight for your seemingly new obsession.

A red dress. A sheer fabric, more like. With roses sewn in, a split in the middle, one strap covering only a part of the hanger. It’s the only piece of clothing you actually take into both of your hands, putting it against your body, as if to see what it would look like on you. Fuck if he knows what you’re doing—all he knows is that his throat is dry, the image of you wearing something like this making him a living, breathing corpse.

Jungkook clenches his fists. Even more so when you disappointingly click your tongue upon seeing the price tag, putting it back where you found it. The thought of you not having that dress causing his heart to lodge, tightly and disturbingly, in the shriveled walls of his throat.

Not happening. Not under his watch.

That dress was made for you.

Jungkook licks his lips. Doesn’t stop the words from spilling out. “Why don’t you try it on?”

You give him a look as if he was a mad man. And he is. That he certainly is. “Please, this costs more than I can afford. I’d only go home crying if I tried it on and had to put it back.”

He stifles a laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Picks up the price tag. Less than two hundred thousand wons. It wouldn’t even make a dent in his bank account.

He grabs the hanger. Hands it to you. “Go try it on, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. Don’t look amused at all. Your brows knit ever so adorably and the corners of your mouth curl downwards, arms crossing over your chest. Oh, he’s going to wipe that expression off of your face. Paint it in pretty, pretty colors. “No, thanks. I think I cried enough today. Let’s go.”

You walk past him, but Jungkook stops you. Grabs your arm. Calls your name, firmly. “I’m not gonna repeat myself.”

You huff. “Is there something wrong with your ears?” Your brows quirk and he thinks he died again. Might melt into a putty. Just for you.

He smirks, showing his teeth. “It’s no issue for me,” he says, speaking of money, taking your hand in his and enveloping your fingers around the hanger. “So be good and try on this dress for me. Off you go.”

Jungkook turns you around and, with his palms on your shoulders, he leads you towards the dressing rooms, not stopping until he finds one that’s unoccupied. You huff and puff again, but he gently pushes you inside. And when you open your mouth to say something, he drags the curtain to the side. A laughter bubbles in his chest.

“You’re not buying this for me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Strip.”

There’s no witty remark, no exhales of your exasperated breaths, only the obnoxious music blasting through the speakers and he assumes that you gave in to him. A tendril of proudness, not of his actions but for you and your good behavior, swims in the hot bloodstream of his veins and it’s now, now that he’s almost alone and you’re out of view, save for your feet clad in pink socks under the curtain, that he perceives that he’s coated in sweat. The disorder of his colorful, all kinds of feelings has turned him so numb that he doesn’t even feel grounded in his body. He needs a strong sip of alcohol. And a good meal.

He begins to flutter the sides of his leather jacket, just to alleviate himself of how hot he feels, when he hears you gasp, your footsies shuffling on the carpeted floor. He takes a step towards the dressing room, a trembling hand reaching for the curtain and stopping there—a spasm of nerves zaps his abdomen, spreading iciness to the tips of his fingers. He knows what he’s about to see will make him a dead man for the third time this evening and because of that, he takes a deep, soundless breath, closing his eyes for a mere second before his hand pulls the curtain away.

Nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

And nothing is what you’re wearing underneath the dress.

Abruptly, there’s no music. There’s no gasps emitting out of that marvelous mouth of yours. And the film in front of his eyes is in slow motion, accompanied by the winged fuckers going equally mad inside his stomach. You’re twirling. From side to side. Patting down the material tight against your slender body. A grin on your face, one that he’s last seen during that time joy rested in you, bathes you in a glow that he longed to see. The glint, the light in your eyes takes on a whole new intensity and it shoots embers into his bare hands, burning him ferociously and curtly—just for him to find that he likes it and that he wants more. You turn around, facing him, and you swathe him with that flaring, almost raging light. It’s the sole thing he senses amidst the numbness of his headspace.

Except for one thing.

The ruffle of the sorry excuse for a rose beneath the singular strap of the dress is but an inch above your stiffened nipple while the other, just as excited, is left bare for his eyes—as if the principle of being exposed like that awakened your body. But it’s the vast, stitched red buds of that flower across your small waist, stomach, mound and the apex of your thighs that brings his attention to this other thing that he’s aware of.

He’s hard for you.

This image of you will perpetually haunt his dreams. Your little, carmine rose tattoos as if lining your skin, mainly. His throat swallows, dryly.

Jungkook cups himself in an effort to hide his arousal and his bafflement from your stark, astonishing beauty. He thinks you’re unquestionably otherworldly, so far beyond his reach and his league that it aches. As much as the apprehension that if you wore anything else in this fucking dressing room, he’d fall to his knees just the same.

And then you speak and somehow you bring sharpness back into his reality.

“The socks go well with the dress, don’t you think?”

Jungkook glances at your feet and what he sees makes him pinch his eyes and let out a rumble of laughter. There’s a fucking Pikachu on your socks, grinning up at him, mocking him for getting hard for you for the third time.

He can’t look back up and be a witness to the magnificence of your body. If he allows himself to do so, he will combust. Bring the whole building down—

A set of footsteps sound behind him and, with a racing heart, Jungkook steps inside the dressing room, shrouding you with his body without touching you, pulling the curtain shut. You startle, backing away until your spine leans against the mirror and there’s no space, none whatsoever, for him to run from you because when he turns back around, it’s your eyes he meets first. Nose to nose, breath to breath.

When did they start making dressing rooms so fucking small?

His breath picks up speed. He wants to pretend he doesn’t see the thick veil of your feminine carnality shunning out the light in your irises, because he can’t afford this, not when you’re sad, not when you need a friend, not when he needs to be stable for you. But the more you look at him, the more you draw him in and he has very little strength to fight against it.

Averting his gaze, he props a hand on the wall beside your mirror. Notices your clothes, untidy, sprawled on the bench. Finds no traces of you taking off your underwear, which means only one thing.

His heart nearly skips a beat.

“Where’s your underwear?”

Your grin forms into a smirk and you latch both of your hands onto the sides of his jacket. Danger mingles into that carnality in your eyes and Jungkook knows, right at this instant, that he’s fucked. “Didn’t take any.”

His cock hardens even more in his hand. A brief flashback of the way he ripped your panties off at his cabin when you disobeyed him fills his mind, and he grows weak. It’s still a private pleasure of his, one that he likes recollecting, no matter the events that took place after. And the whole escapade has caused him to form a certain attachment to your underwear—or lack thereof. Knowing you didn’t take any on your first, secret night out with him suffuses him with delectation, one that intertwines with a rising question in him.

Did you choose not to wear it for the sake of the old time or did you choose not to wear it because you’re expecting something from him?

He yearns to know. Needs to.

“Why?”

Your fists bunch up his T-shirt underneath the jacket, tip of the tongue darting out to lick across your top lip. Your eyes follow the way you squeeze the fabric and Jungkook catches your long lashes quivering at your discovery of his quite prominent problem. A blush scatters along your nose and cheekbones and he doesn’t have to look down to know that his hand scarcely conceals his imprint. He’s grown harder for you in this close proximity and, peculiarly, light pervades him now that you know about his arousal, even though he doesn’t expect you, nor demand from you, to do anything about it.

“Oh, you know.” Palms flat, you drift them down his stomach. Jungkook stiffens, a forest burned by you. “It would only get in the way.”

He sucks in a breath, pressing his other hand beside your head, caging you in, his cock in full clothed glory for you. His head spins, but paradoxically, he feels himself gaining strength, as if you managed to rejuvenate him by laying out your cards on the table in such a filthy, electrifying manner.

“Get in the way of what?”

You mirror him, sucking in a breath of your own. “Get in the way of you fucking my brains out?”

A quirk of his brow. A twitch of his cock. He can’t breathe—you’ve taken all of the remaining oxygen in his lungs when you sucked in that breath and uttered those dirty, dirty words. How are you capable of this? What has Yoongi done to you? Jungkook drags his teeth up his bottom lip, although it attenuates close to nothing. His arousal only blossoms, the bush of roses in his gut thickening, so akin to your little, feigned tattoos. He yearns to feel them under his palm.

A dead man, for the fourth time.

His knees might give out. His hands are clammy.

Though his mouth acts on its own. “Have you forgotten what I’m capable of doing?”

He watches the flashback swim past your irises and it connects to your mouth, expanding it into a coy smile. “I guess I have.”

Bad, bad girl. It’s you who’s fucking his brains out, trembling like a little leaf, longing for his touch, calling out for his hands. He feels them buzz, interwoven with your senses and your desires. Even if you didn’t move an inch, if you remained still as a sculpture, his hands would still know you want them and it drives him to the peak of insanity—enough for him to consider taking you right here and there, in all seriousness. In spite of the fact he still has a mind of his own and is aware that he shouldn’t. For Yoongi’s sake, yes—but mostly for your sake.

The tips of his fingers tingle with the craving to rip that flimsy fabric off of you and make you remember what he did to you, even though you fully remember. Something about that fills him with an onrush of vigorous energy, one that needs a release. It whispers, most intensely, its plea for it within his skin.

“Do I really need to remind you?” Jungkook asks, playing your little game after all, digits clenched into fists on either side of your head. You nod, briefly, seemingly becoming smaller in his captivity, hands drifting lower, rooting by his hips. He’s surprised he’s letting you touch him like this, but then he’d let you do anything you want. He sweeps a glance at your form, just once, before he bores his gaze back into yours. It did something to you and he draws closer, senses you squeezing your thighs together. Such a cute, bad girl. “It would be a pity to rip this dress off of you. What would they think, hm? If you walked out of this dressing room and had to explain to them what happened?”

Jungkook drags a finger down your neck and at the first physical contact, you release a breath that wafts over him, deepens his heat. He traces the line of your strap until he reaches the frilly bud of the rose and tugs at it, just once.

He’s about to continue taunting you, but you catch him off guard.

“I dunno, I’d tell them I wanted you to do it. That I needed the reminder,” you whisper and your low tone of voice curls unfathomably somewhere within his gut, forcing him to double over. You hook your fingers around his belt loops and Jungkook brims with gladness that he didn’t wear a belt. “What was it that you did to me?”

He nearly, nearly rolls his eyes back. The effect you have on him—he craves to bunch your hair in his fist, teach you a lesson regarding what you’re doing to him.

And he just might. Take full responsibility while he’s at it.

Two responses swirl on his tongue, however.

One to scold you for provoking him in public, but he knows it would stall the aroused energy and back it away into a corner. The other to keep going and drive you to his level of insanity.

It’s a crossroad and he’s standing in the middle, a man in charge, his morals questioned and at absolute fucking risk. His blood pumps at full speed and sweat lines his forehead. He’s on the verge of bursting. Time and tension presses against him and with all that energy and strength pulsating in him, it’s scarcely the one he needs to put a stop to this all. It all leads into a far different direction, leading him away from the clearness of his morals.

Fuck.

Then, your chest lifts in desperate staccatos and that’s it for him. That’s the breaking point.

No way out.

Only way in.

For you.

Jungkook wets his lips. “How well can you keep a secret?”

In the same trembling staccatos, you exhale in relief and he’s ready to give you everything. Absolutely fucking everything. “I’m the best in the game.”

A flash of light in his being. He’s immensely pleased with your answer, growing hotter and hotter. He inches closer to you, flush to your body, lips by your ear. Feels your little nubs pressing against his upper abdominal muscles. Craves to sink his teeth into the delicious flesh of your ear. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he starts, mimicking your low tone, speaking of the evident elephant in the room, hoping you catch onto it. “And if they ask, you have to come up with something else. Can you do that?”

He pulls away a tiny bit, just to study your reaction. Your hold tightens on his belt loops while your mouth parts and your head nods in agreement, ever so needy but patient for his next move. He wants to lick you all over just for that, reward you until you lose your voice.

“You teased me with your words, with your little bratty mouth, and even though you listened well when I told you to lick your finger for me, you disobeyed me when I instructed you to not wear panties at my place,” he starts, lips mouthing your ear and he feels the need of your body to stabilize at the memory. Offering you his own, he presses closer to you until he pins you against the mirror, until both pairs of lungs sync in movement, his fingers skimming, barely, over the sides of your hips. Though something resistant takes place in the middle of that entwinement. Something that gives his mouth the aftertaste of copper. “And when I found out, I ripped them off of you. Fingered you so fast you came in seconds and made a mess on my hand. And then…” he pauses, an inkling regarding how to get rid of his uneasiness plaguing his mind. “Then I made you apologize and you did. You did it so sweetly that I made you come so many times until you lost count,” he alters the memory, concluding the reminder finding the aftertaste rapidly increasing, transmitting down to his heart, burdening it with a heavy load that he doesn’t know the contents of.

“Can you show me what you did? I think I might remember better if you do.”

He almost sinks to his knees, but the resistance, the coppery aftertaste in his mouth immobilizes him, keeps him glued on his spot and his hands begin to tremble. An image of Yoongi blazes in the back of his mind and, fleetingly, Jungkook sees a swift movement, a memory of getting hit. If his hyung is in as bad a mental state as he is, it’s inevitable that history will repeat itself. You haven’t received his blessing. Neither has he.

But at this very moment, he thinks knuckles to his cheek will simulate the act of a kiss.

Secrets are secrets and he’s weak.

Awfully, awfully weak.

“Is this what you want me to do?” he asks, looking you dead in the eye, lifting his chin, hoping you see his frailty—hoping you see that he’s hanging by the thread. “Finger you in this dressing room until you ruin that pretty dress?”

A smile. “Well, you didn’t get me a dildo, so your fingers will have to do.”

A sharp inhale of breath. “What about this cock, huh? You don’t want it?”

You drag a finger along his jean-clad length, barely touching him. Jungkook twitches all over.

“It’s too big for me, you know I can’t take it.”

A deep chuckle. He’ll ruin his jeans himself. “If my mind serves me well, you’ve always taken it well. Came around it a lot of times.”

You whine. This, this is your breaking point and all of Jungkook’s muscles tighten at the recognition. He’s gonna give it to you. Say fuck it to it all—his life was damned the moment he set his eyes on you. Knew he was going to die prematurely. Thinks dying in Yoongi’s hands is quite merciful. It’s his best friend after all.

“Please, Jungkook, I—”

He grabs your waist, tightly. His thumbs touch and his stomach drops. “You what?” He’s going to make you say it, he doesn’t care. He needs it. He craves it.

A mewl, one that coils around his length. “I’m so wet. I need you. Please, do something. Anything. Let’s get out of here.”

He turns you around and because you didn’t expect it, you gasp—loudly. Angels must be by his side, for your sounds get instantly swallowed by the blasting music. You can be as loud as you want, as he wants and he makes a mental note to remind you that when the time asks for it.

His fingers gather the flimsy fabric, bunching it at your waist. In the sharp light, shining down at you most perfectly, he has a splendid view of your drenched thighs and swollen clit. He presses you against him, needs you to feel how hard you made him, how rock solid his cock is at the sight of your mouth-watering filthiness. He needs you in his mouth, he needs you.

“Where?” Jungkook asks, staring you down in the mirror, brows furrowed, head tipped to yours, lips in a tight line, parting with every hardened exhale. “Where do you need me? Show me.”

You moan, ever so softly and he can’t help but grind against your ass, fingertips making dents in the flesh of your waist. You take your hand and drift it down to your sweet little cunt and Jungkook holds his breath. You rub your center, your adorable lips wrapping around your small fingers and you show him the thick sheen of your arousal, glistening in the light. Just like you did the first time he set his eyes on you, even though the paradisiacal sight wasn’t meant for him.

Now it is—and he’s nearly about to weep in joy. Such spiritual experience, swathed with gratitude and mercy, healing him through and through. This is for him. You’re willingly giving it to him. He never thought he was ever deserving of it, but now in your hands, at your service, it feels too good to be true. His eyes wet, his arousal taking a new form, becoming something bigger, more profound, something that will change him, cling to him for the rest of his life.

“Here. I want your fingers.”

He takes your palm in his, planning something with it. “Just my fingers?”

You lean your head back against his chest. “All of you, please, please.”

At your service.

Jungkook wraps his lips around your fingers, sucking your dew, swallowing it, needing more. You grow more desperate, watching him in the mirror, and your little index finger grazes his lip ring, smiling sweetly, pleased with yourself. He coos at the sight, but then you turn around, pressing yourself against him, your cunt against his thigh, his cock against your tummy, and you grab the back of his neck and pull him in, harshly, for a kiss.

You eat his mouth. He’s barely able to reciprocate your hungry kisses, the roll of your tongue, your moans at your own taste and he decides he will simply slow you down.

Reaching behind you, his fingers tease your entrance. In response, you lift your ass for him, arching your spine as much as you can. He knows that if he were to pull away, he’d see your juices in the mirror, in the stark light, but your starvation and your craving tastes too good and he physically can’t.

Gathering your slick, he drags his fingers past your parted lips towards your clit and you swirl your hips for him, outrunning him—making the tip of his digit give you the circles you want. He groans into your mouth, out of breath and it isn’t until he rubs your bud rapidly, with deep pressure, and you moan so loud that it alerts him enough to pull away.

The music did not, in fact, swallow that sound.

Jungkook clamps your mouth shut.

Without stopping his movement. Watches your eyes roll back. And he’s greedy, unfortunately so.

Turning you around, he props your leg on the bench and he looks at your pretty cunt. Swollen red clit, like your feigned tattoos, parted lips, dripping hole and equally soaked folds, glistening in the direct light. He swears, can’t help it, fondling your femininity, all four of his fingers gliding with ease, back and forth, everywhere. Down to your other hole, to your inner thighs, back up to your seashell, to your mound and lower tummy. He cakes you with your arousal, one he’s the creator of, bunching your dress higher until he’s holding you right underneath your breasts that spill over his forearm. So full and perky—he’s unhinged. Utterly, utterly unhinged.

He wants to smear your slick over those clothed nipples as well.

Fuck.

Jungkook rubs your clit again, with the same speed as before. Your eyes lid, but keep the eye contact in the mirror, ravaging him through and through. He submits to it, even though he has the upper hand, even though he has the capability to make those eyes go cross. And they do—when he sinks his fingers inside of you, middle and ring, stuffing you full. Your walls suck him in so hard that he almost loses his footing, squeezing you so hard against him that he’s sure he will leave bruises on your tender skin. He silently promises he will kiss them later.

“Is this what you wanted?” He lifts your leg, hoists it up in the air and begins to fuck you speedily, fingers curling in your spot every once in a while. He doesn’t want to make you come fast, but then time is pressing against him and he knows the mall will be closing soon. He still has to fill that belly. Would prefer if you came around his cock. “My fingers fucking your needy little princess parts, hm?”

You moan his name and Jungkook shushes you in your ear, rewarding you regardless by abusing your clit with circles, alternating between those and swiftly fucking you in your tight hole.

“I’m gonna come, Jungkook, I’m gonna come.”

He withdraws his fingers. All of them—even those wrapped around your leg. You sway on your feet, heady, panting, and he stabilizes you with a hand on your arm. He smirks at you in the mirror, fingers in his mouth and you give him a dirty look.

Before you can tell him off, he explains himself. “You’re coming around my cock, I don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

His words wipe your face off of that scowl and you smile at him. A sunshine personified. Jungkook chuckles, pushing you against the mirror with his hand on your sternum and getting on his knees.

He places your leg on his shoulder. “Hold your dress for me.”

You listen right away, ever so eager. One hand clutches the hem, the other sneaks to his hair. Jungkook likes it so much that he doesn’t waste a second and envelops his mouth around your little clit.

Just briefly. He has your dew to drink.

He swipes his tongue along your slit. Over and over, until his sweat drips in pearls down his temples and he makes new bruises on the sides of your hips. Even goes one step further and fucks you with his tongue, letting out short little breaths and soft moans against you, gone feral by your taste and your fleshiness. He takes your lips in his mouth, plays with them with his tongue. Pulls away, stares lovingly at them and spits on your clit, sucking it inside his mouth and rubbing his face in your dripping juices, licking up everything you’re giving to him.

And when your knee gives out, he catches you in time, standing to his feet. Doesn’t kiss you. Is selfish. Wants your taste perpetually on his tongue. Your eyes sink to his wet chin and you lick your lips, a feral look on your own gracing your features. You resemble a horny little animal, one that he craves to own and make his. But he can’t burden his heart with that thought. Doesn’t have the strength for it, not when he’s still hanging by the thread.

“How do you want my cock?” he asks, his own eyes lidded, darkness consuming him. “Like this or from behind? You decide. I’m giving it to you. It’s yours.”

You’re left speechless. He taps your cheek, gently, to make you talk. If you don’t, it will be his ruination and he will die. At your Pikachu-clad feet. A sweet, sweet death. Ideal.

“I—I can’t take it from behind.” A deer in the headlights, terribly cute.

He chuckles, caressing your hair. “But you have.” He grins, but it’s an answer for him. He’ll take you from behind in the safe confines of your home. “Like this, then. It’s more than perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses you, deeply, but he doesn’t give you his tongue. His heart expands, his affection crawling all around the kiss. He wonders if you can feel it.

Pulling away, he unbuttons his pants and takes out his length. He’s soaked his underwear, but he doesn’t mind. His arousal drips down and he rubs it along his tip to make it as painless for you as he can when he enters you.

And once he does, your eyes roll back and you break into whines, ones that fuck with his brain. Your leg is wrapped around his torso, but he joins the other one, holding you by your splendid little cheeks. Like his fingers, you suck him in, even though he hasn’t given you all of it yet. He’s already losing it. Doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him once he’s balls deep. He won’t last. He physically can’t.

Jungkook bites your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. “You want all of it?”

You tug at his hair. “Yes, all of you.”

At your fucking service.

He sinks deeper into you, hissing, furrowing his brows, sweat dripping down every perimeter of his body. Your mouth latches onto his neck and he’s gone. Even more so, when you graze your teeth upon his skin before you suck it—like he sucked your lip. He fucks you hard for it, making you let go of his neck and moan against the column. It pleases him so much that he does it again, a warm pressure coiling in his lower belly. It creates a cacophonous sound, your body colliding into the mirror and it mingles, beautifully, with the music playing. As well as the squeaky noises of your slick gliding along his cock every time he draws out.

“Who do you belong to tonight, huh?” Jungkook rasps, filling you balls-deep just like you wanted, driving into you slowly until his pelvis kisses yours. “You can be as loud as you want, sweetheart. Nobody’s gonna hear you but me.”

Rapid, whiny moans. He mimics their speed while maintaining eye contact with you and he groans when your eyes go unfocused, mouth parted. You’re just as gone as him. He pecks you for it, so terribly pleased. His orgasm inches closer, enveloping him with even deeper, thicker darkness.

“To you, Daddy,” you cry out and because you called him by the title, he maneuvers you. Hoists you higher on his cock, with your legs now dangling from his forearms. And like this, he drags you up and down his length, his own moans breaking at the feeling of you tightening around him. He’s gonna come now and it’s your fault.

“No, sweetheart, you can’t call me that when we’re here,” he scolds, shaking his head, brushing his lips against yours. “I can’t ruin you the way I’d like. They’d kick us out.” He kisses you, slowing down his tempo, stalling his orgasm. “Now apologize or you’re not coming.”

“I’m so sorry. I won’t call you that in—in public.”

A rewarding kiss to your neck. A hard stroke. One that blankets his vision with colorful stars. “Good girl,” he praises, looks down at you and kisses you without breaking the stare. “Now you need to be the best girl and come around my cock. I can’t fill you up—you didn’t wear your panties. I’d ruin your leggings for everyone to see.” You cry out again, the idea dizzying your mind as much as his and you tug at his hair, scratching your fingernails down his neck, touching him all over. “Can you do that for me? Can you come for me and not make a mess like the last time, hm?”

He pounds into you, the strokes so hard that the sound of skin slapping turns disturbing and he holds his orgasm for your sake, all of his muscles clenched, stars dancing across his vision, pecking your features. And that’s it for you.

You come so hard around him—and you are the bestest girl in the world because you manage to keep your eyes on him throughout the entirety of the wave of your orgasm washing over you, licking up at your body. Mouth parted, his name slipping past, a deep tinge of red, deeper than your dress, flushing your cheeks, eyes dazed, so gone, so fucked out, dark and alluring, so akin to his.

His bestest girl. His sweetheart.

He needs to pull away. He needs to come.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re tired but I need you to take off your dress and get on your knees.”

You do it so quickly, without talking back, that even his own flush finds its way to his cheeks, his heart growing even larger and hotter, winged fuckers zapping his stomach. He fucks his fist in your face, loving the way you’re watching what he’s doing for a little while with a lingering hunger before you flick your eyes to his, beckoning his orgasm out of him.

“Good girl,” he whispers, muscles straining, movement quickening. White clothes the colorful stars, the warmth in his stomach on the very brink of exploding. “Open your mouth.”

And he paints your mouth in the same shade of white. You’re so good that you wrap your lips around him, sucking him softly, making popping sounds that prolong his orgasm and he grasps your hair in his fist, gently, despite the violence of his release. He’s not just giving you his cum; he’s giving you all of his affection and when you swallow and smile at him in such a kind, beautiful manner, it wets his eyes in a way that he can’t explain.

He helps you get on your feet and you worsen his state of emotions. Like earlier, you fold into his form, hugging him skin to skin, squeezing him so hard that he stops breathing altogether. And when you begin to weep and smear his chest with your precious tears, he weeps with you.

Never in his life before has he experienced such embrace, such love unraveling in the form of tears and quiet sobs. And he doesn’t want to absolve this again. With you, it’s perfect. And right now, he could die with the utmost certainty that you’re both crying for the same reason.

Love unable to be real, to be fulfilled.

He senses it. Senses it in the way he cradles your head and wipes your tears away. In the way your lips wrap around his, kissing him as if this was the very last time. You don’t have to say a word. He knows. And it’s enough.

Jungkook dresses you. Runs his fingers through your hair in effort to fix it and make it look as nice as it did before he ruined it. And his eyes drench again when you zip him up in the meantime. No one has ever done that for him.

The warmth in his heart heightens. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible.

Taking your hand, purse and your dress, he leads you to check out. Pays for it. Carries the bag. Pretends you’re his; pretends his duties are nonexistent and his morals have different colors—just for this night. Doesn’t let go of your hand, even as he orders a good bowl of soup for you and himself, even as you sit down together and wait for your food. Even as you look at him deep in thought.

“You saved me,” you unravel, a soft, tender, drowsy mien gracing your face and his heart thuds against his ribcage, gratitude surrounding it, eyes wetting again. “Thank you. And for the dress. I’ll only wear it for you.”

The thuds halt. And it’s the only thing that does—a tear rolls down his cheek and he can’t truly believe he’s baring his feelings like that for you, in front of you. He feels as though he was dreaming and he fears he’s going to stir to awakening any moment now.

A waiter brings your food. None of you pay him any kind of attention, though you don’t forget to say your thank you’s.

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, despite the fact no words rise on his tongue, but something interrupts him.

His phone rings.

And it’s none other than his hyung himself.

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