#(no but really... why can't i scoot my hours later all the time)

[halfalgorithm]

I need one of them cruise ship elevator day of the week rugs, I think...

[wileys-russo]

Pollito / barca team ," why are you hiding in the closet" training room/ ground

in the pollito universe with stuck, tiny silver flash, the one where the kids go bowling barça femeni II in hiding

"mierda!" you mumbled under your breath, thumbs flying with gentle taps against your screen as you tried relentlessly to beat the level of candy crush you'd been stuck on all week.

you let out a small scream of surprise as the door to the equipment closet you were hiding out in swung open, flooding the dark with light and causing you to squint and rub at your eyes.

"aye pollito. why are you hiding in the closet?" patri sighed, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow and hands on hips. "i'm not. i have been out of the closet for a year now!" you grinned up at the older girl who snickered and offered you a hand up.

"no i can't, i'm having...quiet time." you faltered trying to think of an excuse which clearly didn't work on the older spaniard. "what did you do now?" pina chimed in, causing you to jump again from your spot on the floor not even having noticed her there as well.

"nothing! ale told me i'm supposed to channel my energy into resting." you rolled your eyes, this lie falling off your tongue a little smoother as both girls gave you a look, shared a look and then decided to leave you to it.

the problems started when a half an hour later you were hungry, currently skipping lunch for your little hide out as you huffed and mulled over your options.

you texted the one person who you knew would come through for you right now without question, perking up a few minutes later when there was a knock on the door and you knocked back, vicky opening it with a tray of food.

"this was so hard to sneak out." the girl sighed shaking her head, sitting down beside you where you scooted across. "compañero i owe you." you exhaled happily, the girl humming and watching in slight disgust as you shoveled in food like it could disappear at a moments notice.

"still haven't beat it?" the forward chuckled pointing to your phone on the floor where candy crush was loaded. "no!" you huffed with a glare, nodding as the girl reached for it with a raised eyebrow. "por favor be my guest!" you mumbled out between bites.

"boo!" you choked on a piece of chicken as the door swung open again, vicky smacking you on the back as it came sailing out of your mouth and landed on jana's shoe. "ew pollito!" the older girl groaned, kicking her foot and sending it flying away as bruna snickered.

"you can't hide in here forever amiga." bruna warned as you motioned for them to go away or close the door, the tiny closet suddenly becoming very cramped as they shuffled inside and sat down, knees tucked to their chest.

"not forever! i have a plan." you smacked away jana's hand where she reached for your jelly cup. "like the same plan you had not to get caught in the first place?" vicky chimed in as you frowned and shoved her, kicking bruna who tried to hide her laugh.

"that was not my fault."

"nothing is ever your fault!" jana rolled her eyes. "this really wasn't! i had a fool proof plan until that burro decided today of all days she was going to arrive early." you grumbled unhappily, all of your hard work and planning having been for nothing.

"so its her fault for ruining the plan you had to mess with her anyway? oye pollito, take some responsibility for once!" bruna sighed with a shake of her head, all four of you jumping in shock as again the door swung open and flooded with light.

"dios mío now i find you all! you left me at the table all alone pendejos." cata swore with a huff, arms crossed over her chest. "and for a secret meeting? for shame!" the goalkeeper tutted as all four of you groaned and complained there wasn't room when she closed the door and flopped down right in the middle.

"so what are we discussing?" cata asked, her knees digging into your sides as you shuffled around unable to find a reprise. "how nothing is ever pollitos fault." jana rolled her eyes again as you mocked her and tossed a carrot stick at her head, cata's hand shooting up to catch it mid air.

"not nothing! just this mornings...incident." you huffed, wincing at the obnoxious crunch of cata chomping down on the carrot right by your ear. "oh that? sí i will admit i am shocked you are still alive." cata mused with another obnoxious crunch.

"she's got the alexia shield." three voices sung out in unison as you pulled a face.

"first. thats super creepy do not all talk at the same two. second; sí she won't touch me when ale is around. but she has captains meetings all afternoon now until media which is why-"

"-you're hiding." "what did i say about all speaking at once!"

"i just have to survive another..." you paused to tap cata's watch. "...twenty minutes. then we have media and she's not going to kill me with witnesses around!" you beamed happily at your newfound plan, not missing the looks of uncertainty flashed around by your friends.

"what!" "nothing nothing, i'm sure that will work. and then tomorrow?" jana questioned as you faltered. "i pray she gets amnesia and forgets all about it?" you smiled hopefully as vicky shook her head and patted your shoulder.

"i will miss you amiga...can i have your nintendo switch?" "vicky!"

"well well well." you all jumped again as the door swung open, the face you'd been avoiding glaring down at you. "the rest of you have five seconds to haul culo out of this closet or you suffer as well." the girl warned.

"traitors!" you yelled after the four girls who fell over one another trying to run away, bruna and cata picking up vicky who tripped, carrying her away by the arms in a hurry unable to get away fast enough.

"hola mapi, did you do something new with your hair? looks very good today." you smiled as sweetly as you could manage, the defenders jaw clenching.

"purple is your colour?" you tried again with a nervous laugh, having been caught red handed with purple dye on your hands this morning after dumping it in mapi's shampoo, the girl having arrived early and caught you, but not having put two and two together until she showered after training.

"look we can talk about this we can-" you started to beg as the girl stepped inside and started to close the door. "oh sí sí sí we're going to talk pollito...but after i shave one of your eyebrows off." she grinned wickedly holding up a razor as your eyes widened.

"ALEXIA!"

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[cutielando]

hey my lovely 🫶🏼 first I LOVE your smut, it's really just as good as your writing in general, so don't doubt that you're a great writer. 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼

second lmao i saw that you are accepting requests for Jay Halstead (my man), could you write one where he and the reader have sex in his truck? as if she rides him 😅

every time saw him get off her i was collapsing, it looked so good 😩

Only if this makes you feel comfortable and like i said if you still write about him, I send you all my love and hugs 🫂💌

in the car | j.h.

warnings!!: smut, p in v, car sex, pet names, daddy kink, degradation, oral sex (male receiving)

my masterlist

It hadn't been your fault, really.

Ever since you two arrived at Molly's, he had been looking insanely hot and delicious. The shirt that hung onto his biceps a little too tightly, the way his spread thighs looked at you, begging you to go and sit on them. The booming laughter that escaped him every now and then.

Everything Jay was doing was driving you absolutely crazy. You had seen little of him in the past week because of a case he was working, so you were craving him way more than you usually would on a Friday night.

"Are you okay?" Kim snapped you out of your daze, looking at you worriedly. You looked around you and saw that none of your other colleagues were paying attention to you, which you were thankful for.

You cleared your throat, giving Kim an unconvincing smile in reassurance.

"I'm okay, just kinda tired" you explained, making the girl smile and nod in understanding.

You almost sighed in relief when she shifted her attention back to your friends, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a hot minute.

Your eyes naturally shifted towards Jay again, admiring him from every angle your mind could come up with. The way his eyes lit up whenever he laughed, the way he would slap his thigh every time someone would say something funny, the way he was just so effortlessly hot.

Jay knew you were all hot and bothered for him. He knew your body inside and out, so it was easy for him to pick up on the little gestures you always did when you were horny.

He got smug when he would think about it, knowing how much torture it was for you to not be able to jump his bones right then and there.

Half an hour later, much to your relief and excitement, Jay had decided you were both going to call it a night, much to the dismay of your friends.

"Come on man, you barely got here" Ruzek complained, throwing his hands in the air.

"Sorry man, we'll stay some other time" Jay said, taking your hand in his while trying hard not to smirk.

If only they knew why you were leaving early...

You waved at your friends one last time before Jay held the door open for you, the fresh air hitting you instantly as you stepped out of the crowded bar.

You both walked in silence towards Jay's car, just enjoying the quiet and peace of the young night.

"I hope you know you're in for a treat tonight" Jay whispered in your ear once you got to his car, holding the door open for you.

You looked at him and bit your lip, trailing a hand down his chest.

"Can't wait, daddy" you whispered seductively in his ear, biting on his earlobe before getting into the passenger seat.

Jay let out a shuddering breath, his pants tightening even more around his crotch. He cursed under his breath as he rounded the car and got into the driver's seat.

He started up the car and started driving, his knuckles clutching tightly at the steering wheel. You tried to hide your smirk so he wouldn't see it, but were failing miserably.

"You think this is funny? This is all your fault" he said, pointing to his crotch where you could clearly see how hard he was.

You bit your lip as you stared at his boner, licking your lips. An idea suddenly sparked into your mind, making you smile. You unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted closer to the console, a hand slowly running up and down the inside of his thigh.

"Stop, I'm trying to drive" Jay warned you, his knuckles a hot white as his grip on the wheel tightened.

You didn't pay him any mind, your hand now trailing directly over his bulge. You bit your lip as your hands slowly unzipped his pants, your hand massaging his hard cock over his boxers.

Jay let out a strangled groan, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of you touching him where he desperately needed to be touched.

"I know you don't want me to stop" you said nonchalantly as you put your hand in his boxers and freed his aching cock, the tip an angry red and leaking precum all over his pants.

Jay didn't say anything, but the loud moan that erupted from his throat as he felt your warm mouth envelop his cock. You immediately got to work, sucking harshly and playing with his heavy balls. He sucked in a breath as he felt you taking him cock all the way down your throat, your gag reflex long gone by this point.

"Oh shit" Jay moaned out, one of his hands tangling into your hair, pushing your head further down his cock.

You were sucking and slurping at his length like it was your meal, fondling his balls and applying pressure on the thick veins popping out. You were so focused on sucking him off that you didn't even realize he had pulled over on the side of the road.

Feeling him swell in your mouth and his veins throbbing, you lifted your head with a pop, wiping the corner of your lips.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N" Jay said, breathing loudly to catch his breath as he chuckled.

"We're not done, baby" you said, making him look at you hungrily.

You got up from your seat and jumped into his lap, getting comfortable once he pushed the seat back so you had more space.

Smashing your lips against his, his hands were gripping your hips tightly, your panties-covered pussy rubbing against the length of his dick as you grinded your hips against his.

You were so horny, so desperate to feel him that you reached your hand down and pushed your panties to the side before you took his cock in your hand and lined it up with your entrance, moaning into his mouth as you slowly slid down on him.

"Fuuck" Jay moaned, the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him making his eyes roll in the back of his head.

You slowly took in all of him, stopping when you were sat on his thighs, closing your eyes to take in the feeling of his cock stretching you out perfectly, his tip nudging at your cervix as your walls contracted around him, his protruding veins tickling your insides.

"You feel so fucking good" you whimpered, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself.

"I can feel your juices dripping down on my cock, so fucking hot" Jay said as he placed open mouthed kisses all over your chest, sucking on the flesh of your breasts while trying to ground himself and not cum too soon.

You bit your lip as you slowly started lifting yourself up and down on his cock, swallowing him whole every time you would go down on him. The angle at which his cock was hitting all of the right spots inside of you made your toes curl and your mind go fuzzy.

Jay held your hips in his hands and guided you up and down, helping you maintain a rhythm. You were now bouncing up and down on his cock, your nails digging into his shoulders as moans kept escaping your throat.

"You feel so fucking good, daddy. So big and perfect just for me" you mewled as you collapsed onto his chest, your thigh burning with exhaustion.

"Such a good girl for me, you're doing so good fucking yourself on my cock, dirty girl" he grumbled as he lifted his hips and started pounding into you, making you scream out in pleasure and screw your eyes shut.

The windows were fogged up, the car rocking with how fast Jay was now pounding into you. His tip was hitting your cervix repeatedly, making the coil inside of you grow hotter by the minute.

"You're gonna make me cum, daddy" you stuttered out, your brain fucked out and your body slumped against him.

Hearing that, Jay immediately brought a hand to your clit and started drawing quick circles on it, applying pressure while doing so. His orgasm wasn't far behind, but he wanted you to cum with him, to fill your cum dripping down from your pussy as he filled you to the brim with him cum.

"Cum for daddy, baby. Let go for me" he whispered against the shell of your ear, picking up his brutal pace even more and his hand speeding up working on your clit.

It only took a few more thrusts before you were screaming out his name, your pussy walls clamping down and pulsating so harshly around his cock that his orgasm hit him with full force, his toes tingling as he shot rope after rope of cum deep into your pussy.

"Oh my God" you squealed when you felt his cum spreading through you, triggering yet another orgasm from your pussy, milking him for all he was worth.

Jay was thrusting up lazily as he emptied his heavy balls inside of you, feeling slightly overstimulated as your pussy kept fluttering against his cock, almost like you didn't want him to ever pull out.

Slowly, you both came down from your thighs, breathing heavily against one another.

You lazily picked up your head from his shoulder and smiled at Jay, leaning down to peck his lips a couple of times.

"That was so hot" you murmured against your lips, making the both of you burst out laughing.

Yeah, it was fucking hot.

And you would do it again anytime.

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[hearts4skywalker]

why don't you bring your girlfriend? // robby keene

materlist!!

summary: robby keene had always been cobra kai's top fighter. when kyler decides to throw a party, kenny and the others all bombard robby on why he doesn't bring his girlfriend to the party.

pairings: you and robby!!

warnings: pet names (baby), you're literally such cutie, fem prns, probably cringe, takes place end season 3 (except it doesn't really make timeline sense but for the sake of the one-shot bear with me), hawk and devon being cobra kai, it didn't not come out the way i wanted to so i might make another robby one-shot idk 🤷‍♀️

w/c: 1100

robby had been punching the dummy for what felt like hours. his knuckles hurt and had blisters all over them. nothing cobra kai's top fighter couldn't deal with, however. next to the brunette was tory. she had just finished nis sparing with kyler when she sat down to take a drink.

seeing everyone grabbing water, robby followed. he twisted the cap off of a plastic water bottle, flicking it into a corner to never be found again. robby wasn't one to chat during practice. he found it disrupting and the last thing he would want to do is upset silver or kreese. truth be told, the boy was terrified of his senseis.

"party at mine tonight. be there by 7 or i'll open the kegs without you guys." robby didn't have to look up from staring at his bloody knuckles to know who's voice it was. kyler's voice annoyed robby to no end. robby listened to the people who said they'd be there. tory spoke up. "keene, you going?"

robby shook his head. "can't make it." kyler's face went from being full of pride to slightly offended. "why not? you too good for your friends now?" kyler rolled his eyes. robby cocked an eyebrow, standing up and walking over to the group. "sorry man i told my girlfriend i'd come over after practice." tory looked surprised.

kenny's eyes widened. "wait, robby, you have a girlfriend? since when?" this was news to everyone. even though robby and y/n had been dating since before he was on the run last year, the two never told anyone. partly because they were both very private people and partly because y/n was scared of samantha larusso. "uh about a year and a half now." robby looked around the room, realizing his mistake.

"why don't you bring your girlfriend?" tory interrogated. it was a pretty solid idea. robby just didn't know if y/n was all that of a party person. it couldn't hurt to ask he supposed. "i'll ask her. but no promises we'll show." and with that, robby left to head over to his girlfriends.

robby softly knocked on y/n's front door, knowing she was home alone and he didn't want to scare her. y/n quickly opened the door. her face lit up when she saw that it was robby. she threw her arms around his neck, giving him the biggest hug she could.

"hey, baby, i have a huge question to ask." robby started. the two had been laying in y/n's bed for quite some time now. it was around 6, an hour before the party started. y/n hummed in response. robby sat up, subconsciously scooting y/n up so she was still laying on his legs. robby took a deep breath. "kylershavingapartytonightandimayhaveaccidentallyletitslipthatwe'vebeendatingforayearandnowtheywantmetobringyousoyoucanmeetthem." (kylers having a party tonight and i kinda let it slip that we've been dating for a year and now they want me to bring you so you can meet them)

y/n was taken back by how quickly he attempted to get that out. "sure, seems fun." y/n patted robby's leg reassuringly. "wait really?" robby pushed his hair back, a sign of relief escaping his legs. "really. it's been a year and i think it's time for me to meet them." y/n sat up, shrugging. "you're actually the best." robby smiled, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

an hour later the two had arrived at kyler's house, already hearing the music blasting from a few houses down. there weren't many people there, just the cobras. tory described it as a "inner circle only" kind of thing. robby opened y/n's car door, offering his hand for her to grab. of course she couldn't pass on that offer. she took robby's hand. robby slammed the door shut with his free hand.

the two didn't know whether to knock or to just walk in. judging by how loud the music was, the two just walked in. the chatter stopped when the couple came into sight. "holy shit." kenny whispered to kyler, pointing at robby. "yo, keene, your girl was real?" kyler raised an eyebrow. y/n flipped him off. "this is y/n. y/n these guys are kyler, kenny, hawk, tory, devon, and....stingray?" robby pointed at each person, pausing at stingray.

y/n nodded towards everyone. her and robby went to go sit on the couch. "so, y/n, how did you and robby meet?" tory questioned, trying to help y/n ease into the group. (we love a polite queen) "oh.. uhh.. i think the first time we met he was working at larusso's car shop and i was picking up my car. right?" y/n held robby's hand a little tighter. she looked up at him for confirmation.

"pretty sure that's what happened." robby nodded. tory smiled at y/n. "c'mon, y/n. me, you, and devon can just talk while they do... whatever the fuck they're doing." tory had a weird tone in her voice when she said the last part. kyler had been trying to get stingray to chug a beer without spilling drop. "be back, baby." y/n kissed robby's cheek before taking tory's hand and running outside with her and devon.

devon took a breath of fresh air. "those people piss me off so much." devon laughed. tory nodded with her. the three girls sat in the grass, staring up at the stars. "you look good with robby. he's been a lot happier." tory reassured y/n. not like she needed the reassurance, but it was still nice to hear.

the girls talked about themselves, as well as cobra kai as a whole, for a good hour and a half before people started leaving the party. robby came outside, car keys in hand. "you ready?" he asked. y/n nodded, brushing the grass off her knees. she held her hands out for tory and devon to grab. she pulled them up within seconds. "it was so nice meeting you guys." y/n smiled at the two. the girls smiled back at her.

robby opened the car door for y/n, then closing it when she was fully in the car. he got into the driver's side, starting the car. "so, how'd you like them?" robby reached a hand over the gear stick to hold her hand. he rubbed his fingers over he knuckles. "it was good. they're sweet girls. especially tory." robby snickered.

y/n looker over at him confused. "it's nothing, baby. just never heard the words 'tory' and 'nice' in the same sentence."

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

eddie teaching you how to play DBD but you keep dying so you get angry and quit so he tries to make you feel better by… (you can fill in the blank bestie) 🤭

👀 so niche but also right up my alley.

Modern!Eddie munson x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (female receiving.)

A/n: short blurb for a moot. Not proofread.

18+ minors dni

"Im gonna get hooked!" You shouted at the TV screen next to your boyfriend who's currently watching you play Dead by daylight.

"Baby, you saw him coming you should have ran."

"Don't victim blame Edward." You snapped back. Your fingers going a mile a minute on the joy cons.

Eddie had been begging you to play dead by daylight for months now. It was currently his favorite game to play at the moment. You've been watching him on the game more and more recently figured if you learned this could be another way to spend quality time together.

Usually, you were off on your switch playing animal crossing while he was busy screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, well, I gotta fix the generator!" You argued, trying to wiggle out of the killers grip. "I don't understand why there are skill checks on the gens."

"Cus' they can't make it but so easy." Eddie said as he struggled to hide a laugh.

You shoot him a dirty look as you grow more and more frustrated. "Welp, I'm dead....AGAIN!"

"Jus' calm down" Eddie watched in amusement. He knows you're about two seconds away from exploding.

"Whatever, this game is stupid. I never should have let you talk me into playing it." You pouted, throwing the gaming controller in his lap. You were a sore loser and always have been.

Sounds of terror and a pained scream from your now dead character fill the silence. The more you heard her scream, the more upset you got. You didn't want to just win. You wanted to impress your boyfriend and show him you could keep up. What makes it worse is that the game isn't even complex. You just suck at it. Never mind, this is your first time playing it.

"Sweetheart." Eddie calls to you.

"Leave me alone." Your face is twisted in a scowl staring a head at the TV screen. Your character running in a field signifying you infact did not survive another round.

Eddie is trying his best not to smile. He really is. He reaches over to take your hand, but you snatch away and scoot further down the couch.

"Alright." He announces with a long sigh.

You watch him stand with the gaming controller in hand. He doesn't like the attitude you're giving him, and you know it. You wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't punish you later for it. Not that you don't deserve you because you do. You've been mouthy at him for hours now.

"Ya know any other time when you get an attitude like that I'd fuck it right out of you." Eddie squints, making you squirm.

He bends down, so he's at eye level with you."But my baby is very, very upset right now."

Eddie gets down on his knees in front of you. Gripping your hips and yanks you down, so your ass is almost hanging off the cushions.

"So here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna relax and keep practicing, and I'm going lick that pretty pussy until you feel all better." He smiled, slowly taking your pajama shorts and panties off. He tosses both of your legs over his shoulders you gasped when you felt his nose nudge at your clit.

"O-okay," you murmured.

Eddie smiles up at you. "Good girl now pay attention to the game and if you don't I won't let you cum."

You nodded rapidly, letting out a shakey breath. A small whimper escaped your mouth when his soft lips wrapped around your aching clit. Your hands are becoming clamy as you wait for the new match to begin.

"Mmhmm oh Eddie." You whispered.

He removed his mouth from your clit. His tongue pushes in your wet opening. Your slick getting all over his face. The slight stubble on his chin tickling your pussy. You almost dropped the controller on his head when you felt his tongue push in deeper.

Your eyes close for a moment, and you almost got again by the killer right when the game started. He heard the familiar sound on the tv and stopped. His tongue disappearing from inside you, leaving you feeling empty.

Eddie looks up at you, a little disappointed. "Focus honey, you' wanna cum dont you?"

"M'sorry....I-I do so bad." You whined.

"Then be my good girl and do what I asked." He spoke softly.

Reattaching his lips back to your clit and sucking hard. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his head. You moan out his name over and over again as if it were a chant as your eyes stayed glued to the screen. Eddie lapped and sucked at your sore bud.

You focused hard on the game, trying to ignore your boyfriend who is currently between your legs with no intention of leaving anytime soon. The more his mouth worked on your pussy you felt yourself becoming more at ease. The game was getting less stressful than it was earlier.

That familiar coil in your belly tightens, and you know your release is creeping up on you.

Eddie comes up for air, his face saturated in your slick and his own spit. "You win yet?"

"A-almost." You breathed heavy.

He smiles against you proud that his little plan is working.

"You gettin' close, aren't ya baby?" Eddie cooed.

You nod and focused back on the game. Not looking down at him once.

Eddie bites his lip and goes back to what he was busy doing.

You finally won for the first time that night and many more nights after. Your boyfriends plan worked out in your favor after all. Thank God for that now you won't feel like you're a drag to play with.

This ended becoming a regular thing between the two of you. When Eddie noticed you losing focus or getting very upset. He'd sit you on his cock or bury his face between your legs. It was a good strategy.

Some nights, you and him completely disregarded the game as a whole if he got too caught up in the moment. Other times you'd return the favor and sit between his legs with his cock stuffed in your throat. Now, all you need to do is convince Eddie to play animal crossing with you.

[rorywritesjunk]

All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me

It was Buggy's turn to do your makeup.

Rating: R because the girlfriend can't keep her hands to herself or keep her dirty mind from wandering.

Warning: None really, just suggestive themes. Buggy has a bun because I can't help myself, and chest hair. Mentions of nipple piercings on Buggy because why not? And Buggy is a damn tease as well.

A/N: Sequel to the makeup fic. I wrote two versions of this before deciding the second one was more on track with how the original went. It's inspired by a tag from @sporadicthingcollection from the first fic. Title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara.

Part One is here!

The bath had been comforting, warm, and much needed. This time it wasn't Buggy having a bad day and needing some pampering, it was you. Between losing half your groceries from ripped bags to a pot of water boiling over on the stove and making a huge mess, your foot had also been run-over by Cabaji on his unicycle while you were trying to help some of the performers literally find their marks. It wasn't the first time your foot was a victim to the unicycle, but in the chaos of the day, you didn't think to wear shoes and well, the tread-mark shaped cuts on your foot was a reminder to do so next time.

You toweled off and pulled your robe on, wincing as you limped over to the bed to sit. Buggy was sitting at his vanity, only in his underwear as he unwinded from the day as well. His hair was up in a messy bun, his back to you as he wiped away the day's makeup. It was always a fascinating sight to you, and you knew you were lucky to see him in a near vulnerable state like this.

He rummaged through the drawers of the vanity for something before looking up at the mirror and seeing you reflected back at him on the bed. He smirked, the red around his mouth still prominent, making the smirk appear larger than it was.

"See something you like?" He teased. You flushed at being caught staring. 

"Always." You shot back as you continued watching him, a thought coming to your mind. It was dumb to ask. You both were going to bed in the next few hours, but you didn't know when a better time to ask would be. "Buggy, can I ask you something?"

"Depends." He replied as he looked back at himself in the mirror. "What is it?"

"Um… could you do my makeup?" You asked. "It's just… I like seeing how you do yours and… thought maybe you'd be able to do mine? But I get it if you don't want to, you know, I don't think I really have the face for it."

He pushed his chair away from the vanity and stood up. He didn't say anything as he turned to face you and crossed the room in just a few steps. You wondered if you offended him somehow by the way he grabbed your face when he approached you, staring down at you before smashing his lips against yours in a surprising kiss. You gasped when he pulled away, head spinning as you wondered what the fuck brought that on.

"Thought you'd never ask." He grinned. "Let's get started."

He went back to the vanity and started rummaging through drawers, piling whatever his findings were on the top. You wondered if you should even bother to change into clothes since you would likely end up naked by the end anyway, it would be less of a hassle to stay in your robe.

He came back over a few minutes later and gestured for you to scoot into the middle of the bed. Oh, he was going to do it on the bed, like how you did for him. You scooted to the middle of the bed and grabbed a pillow to stick under your head before making sure your robe stayed closed. He crawled on top of you, knees on either side of your body as you moved your hands to rest over your chest. He didn't need to pin your hands down because you weren't going to grope him like he did to you every time you did his makeup.

Once he settled on top of you and you realized the view you would have, you suddenly realized that oh, you can see why he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Sure, you had been under him plenty of times, but not like this. For one thing, his thighs were right there. Of course you've been between them, looking up at him from the ground as you sometimes knelt down in front of him while he sat in his captain's chair, his pants undone as your mouth su-

"Babe." He snapped you back to reality. Your face was red. "You good?"

"Y-Yes." You replied as your fingers twitched, needing to be touching something to keep you focused. He seemed to notice and grabbed them, placing them both on top of his thighs, the last place you wanted to be touching right then because you knew them so well. You knew how they felt under you whenever you were straddling his lap, whether it was in bed or his chair, naked, riding him until-

He cleared his throat and you up at him again, turning redder in the face.

"Behave." He teased as he held up two eyeliner pencils near your eyes. He studied them for a moment before tossing one aside and uncapping the other. He then leaned down, face close to your own as he carefully moved the pencil along your bottom eyelid, looking at you but not really. The urge to pull him down for a kiss was there, and you thought the possibility of losing an eye would be worth it if you got to kiss him right then.

He was finished quicker than you thought and kissed your forehead. You realize you didn't specify how to do your makeup. Was he going to do something elaborate or simple? Your fingers tapped nervously against his thighs as you started to wonder if this was a good idea. You had worn makeup a few times in your younger years but it never looked right, so you gave up trying to learn how to do it on yourself.

But damn were you glad to have asked him to do it. It was a different kind of intimacy having him leaning over you, an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a brush in the other as he whispered for you to close your eyes, which you did without hesitation. Your hands stayed on his thighs, moving up and down his thighs slowly, fingers crooking to drag your nails over his skin. You didn't really pay attention to how much you were moving your hands until you felt the fabric of his boxers against your knuckles. You decided to push your luck as you flattened your hands back down and began to slide them up his boxers slowly.

"Babe!" He yelped as he swatted at your hand. "Hey!"

You cracked one eye open and grinned. "Sorry, didn't realize what I was doing."

"Liar." He scolded, looking scandalized by your actions. "I'll sit on you like you do me if you don't watch it."

"Aw, but Buggy!" You whined. "I can't help it!"

"Watch it." He warned as he held the brush threateningly. "Everything else is fair game right now but that. Just wait."

You pouted up at him as you let your hands move to his waist instead, your thumbs running along the waistband of his boxers. He seemed fine with that and you closed your eyes again as he began brushing the eyeshadow over your lids.

It was just hard not to touch him. Before you knew it, you were sliding your hands up his sides, to his chest, your thumbs brushing over his nipples, resisting the urge to tug on the piercings he had there. You felt him flinch when you touched him, so of course you did it again before running your fingers through his chest hair, hands moving up to his neck so your arms could wrap around him. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes. 

"Okay, I gotta keep you still." He said. "You're getting too handsy."

"But Buggyyyyyy!" You pouted up at him. "I can't help it, really. Just… fuck, you should see what I'm seeing right now. You look so damn beautiful like this."

He blushed but said nothing as he set the eyeshadow aside. He reached back to unhook your arms from around his neck, pushing them above your head suddenly and holding them against the mattress. He held them down with one hand while the other moved to your cheek, stroking your flushed skin softly.

"And if you could see how you looked right now, babe, underneath me like this…” He trailed off as he tightened his grip on your wrists, his other hand now sliding down your body, untying your robe, touching your stomach as it moved between your legs. You inhaled sharply, trying to move your legs apart for him, biting back a moan.

And then he pulled his hand back without even touching you.

“Buggy!” You whined. “Why?!”

“We’re not finished yet, babe.” He smirked. “I still have to do your lipstick.”

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 2)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.2k words

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, babysitting Abby. (no smut... yet.)

Part 1 Part 3

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Mike calls you up to ask a favor for the 2nd night in a row. He hates having to resort to you, his ex for Christ's sake, but he has no other choice. Besides, after last night... maybe he doesn't hate it so much.

"Again?" You ask, feigning annoyance. "What, did your usual babysitter fuck off and die?"

Mike winces at that. "I hope not. I can't really afford anyone else right now."

"And why do you expect me to come be your free labor, Schmidt?"

"Because I'll owe ya one?"

"You already owe me one from last night."

"..."

"I'll owe you two."

You scoff in an attempt to cover a laugh. Damnit. Why did he have to be so charming?

"Fine. But we are not making a habit of this."

"We aren't. I promise. I'll look for a new babysitter this weekend. I just can't leave Abby alone overnight."

"That's a strange way of saying you can't go another minute without me."

"You're delusional, woman."

"A delusional woman you owe two favors, Mikey. Be careful throwing insults."

Now it's Mike's turn to stifle a laugh. He coughs in a feeble attempt at covering it up.

"What, catching a cold?"

"No. You just make me sick."

"Stop flirting with me and hang up already."

Mike does just that, slamming the corded landline phone back into it's holster. The little smiley face sticker Abby stuck to it years ago seems to taunt him almost as much as you just did. He sighs, leaning against the counter and wondering how he got himself into this mess. He shouldn't enjoy it so much when you toy with him like this. That's all it was, he was being played with. But damn it, after being lonely so long... he'd take what he could get.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You arrive at his house around half an hour later, annoyed at the prospect of crashing on his couch for the 2nd night in a row. You try to make your displeasure evident with a scowl as he opens the door, but when you see the way he's gawking at you...

"Stop staring. It's rude." You can't help but smirk slightly as you scold him, he's just so easy to mess with.

"Did you really have to dress like a slut just to babysit?" Mike hisses as you set down your things, taking in your outfit. A pair of shorts that you'd definitely be cold in, and a white tank top. Of course, you had a hoodie too, but it was unzipped, and he was more focused on what it didn't cover.

"Hey, last time you said..." Mike nods to the kitchen, and you trail off as you notice the girl sitting and coloring at the table. Abby. Oh. Right.

"You're not in any position to judge my clothing choices, Mikey."

Mike shivers as you whisper in his ear. What exactly is that supposed to mean? His clothes are fine, right? He studies his hoodie and jeans, then shakes himself and grits his teeth as he follows you into the kitchen.

"Look! Mike drew this one!" Abby excitedly shoves a piece of paper in your face as you sit down at the kitchen table with her. It's a sketch of a forest, pine trees and shrubs. It's actually rather well drawn, and you take a minute to look over it.

"It's nice, but you're the better artist for sure." You slide the paper back over to her and give Mike a teasing smile as he sits down across from you, on the other side of Abby.

"Oh, I know." She turns her attention back to her own drawing, another one of Mike. And... wait, was that...? No, it couldn't be...?

"Abby, what are you drawing?" Mike asks the question before you can, craning his neck to get a better look at her paper.

"You." She responds vaguely, still scribbling away.

"Okay, but what exactly is he doing?" You ask, scooting closer to her for a better look.

"And what am I wearing?"

"A suit. It's your wedding." Abby casually drops a bomb on you both, still not even bothering to look up from her paper. Wedding? Mike?

"You're engaged?" You turn to the dumbfounded older Schmidt, and discreetly scan his hands, looking for a ring.

"N-no? What? Abby, I'm not getting married." He finally sputters, face flushed a light shade of pink.

Abby doesn't respond, still focused on her drawing. Now that you're sure what it is, you can totally see it. The red isle. The benches. Mike, wearing... something that sort of resembles a suit, if you squint. And... a bride. You nearly choke when you spot her.

"Abbs, who's that?" You ask, pointing a shaky finger at the bride, who almost looks familiar...

"You."

"..."

Mike gives you a look, and you both quickly excuse yourselves from the table.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Seriously, Mike? First you tell her I'm a witch, then you tell her I'm your fiancé? Make up your goddamn mind." You scowl at him and zip up your hoodie as he closes the door behind you. The night air is chilly, and you're almost starting to regret the shorts. Almost.

Mike returns your scowl as he leans against a wall. His porch isn't exactly the best hang out spot, but you two needed to speak privately after Abby's little comment.

"I didn't tell her you're my fiancé." He growls, speaking firmly. Must be trying to make up for the way he was totally blushing earlier.

"So what, then? She just made it up?"

"Come on..." He groans, burying his face in his hands and letting the tough act fall for a moment. "You know how she is..."

It was true, his sister was... weird. He still loved her obviously, more than anyone, especially his stupid ex-girlfriend. But she was certainty different from other kids, made evident by the fact she spent more time talking to imaginary people than Mike.

"Seriously... I didn't fuckin' say that..." Mike wasn't a very good liar. But this wasn't lying, right? He'd never explicitly told Abby he was going to marry you, but he definitely humored her when she asked about it way back when you two were dating. He'd told her maybe. Maybe. To a kid, that meant yes.

"You sure, Mikey? Don't have a ring hidden away somewhere, waiting to pop the question?" You cross your arms and scoff, but it's hard to be angry when this whole thing is so amusing. Abby definitely had a wild imagination, but she wouldn't just make up something like that out of nowhere. There had to be more to this.

"Hell no. I'd rather die alone than marry a witch." He practically spits in anger, but he's more angry at himself than you or Abby. He should have shut Abby down immediately when she asked about marriage... especially considering the relationship hardly lasted 3 months. But, well, he was a lovesick fool. Way back then. Not anymore.

"Pfft. Fine. Have fun at work, Honey." You taunt him as you head back inside, and you can hear him grumble more than a few curses in response.

Little sisters and ex-girlfriends, man. Mike wanted to scream.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You nearly choke on your glass of water as Abby drops yet another bomb on you.

"C-can you repeat that?" You ask, coughing.

"Will you teach me witch stuff? You know, cursing people?" Abby blinks up at you innocently. Damn these Schmidts and their big brown puppy eyes.

"Please? When you lifted the curse from Mike, it really worked!" She insists eagerly. "He colored with me!"

You watch as she proudly holds up Mike's drawing of a forest. She must really treasure it.

"I... uh... why do you want to learn witchcraft, Abby?"

Abby cocks her head at the question. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." You laugh and shake your head. This kid.

"Alright... but we can't do witchery on empty stomachs. What do you want to eat?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike quietly slips back into the house at the crack of dawn, he nearly trips over his own feet when he sees the state of his kitchen table.

"The fuck happened here?" He mutters, picking up one of the many papers strewn across the table. The weird markings all over it vaguely resembled hieroglyphics, not that he was an expert on those. The part that really concerned him, though, was the circle of candles in the center of the table.

They weren't lit, thankfully, but they looked like they had been. Damn it. Those were for emergencies. Like the time he forgot to pay the power bill.

"Too tired for this shit." He gives up on trying to decipher whatever-the-fuck you and Abby did, and makes his way into the living room. He pauses yet again when he sees you sleeping on the couch. Was that his blanket? And pillow? From his bed? Damn infuriating woman.

"Get up." He gives your shoulder a shake, not bothering to be gentle. He doesn't have the patience right now.

"Nngh... 5 more minutes." Ugh. You sound just like Abby.

"Don't be a bum." He rips the blanket off of you, then immediately regrets it when he remembers just how little you're wearing. Your tank top had shifted, almost completely exposing your... fuck, he shouldn't stare.

"Don't you have work?" He grumbles, flopping down in his recliner and pointedly looking away from your body.

"Nah... It's my day off." You sit up and stretch, planting your feet on the floor and reaching up to the sky as you lean back against the couch. Either you don't notice that one of your breasts has fallen out of your tiny top, or you just don't care. Mike clears his throat and looks away again. Fuck. He's definitely blushing.

"Oh, shit." With a casual hand, you tuck your breast back into the tank top. Must have moved around a lot. Damn uncomfortable couch.

"You wanna explain why it looks like I hosted a cult meeting in my kitchen?" Mike snaps, finally able to focus.

"Hey, you're the one who convinced Abby I'm a witch. Not my fault the promise of learning a spell is such an effective way of getting her to eat dinner."

Mike furrows his brow at that. You got her to eat dinner? Two nights in a row? That's an accomplishment. "...Fine. But please, clean up your mess next time. I have to take her to school in a couple hours, and if the table is-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll clean it up. Let me get some coffee first, jeez." You brush him off and make your way into the kitchen. He still has the same shitty coffee maker that looks like it belongs in an antique store. And no creamer, because Mike hates joy.

"You want a cup too?"

"I shouldn't. Gotta go to sleep after I drop Abby off at school." He grunts from the other room, and you can hear him getting out of the old creaky recliner he loves so much.

"Ah. Night shift."

"Yeah. Night shift."

Mike shuffles into the kitchen and you both stand there awkwardly for a few moments as the coffee brews.

"You don't really look like you sleep, you know." You remark, taking in his ever-present eyebags for the hundredth time.

"Yeah, well, I do. Sleeping is just so... tiring." He scoffs, making light of the situation. He's telling the truth, though. Sleep for him is more of a project than real rest. His eyes glaze over as he gets lost in thought for a moment.

"You good, Mike?" He flinches as you place a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't expecting that from you.

"Yeah, uh, just..."

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

You sigh and decide to let it go, turning your attention to the mess on the kitchen table instead. He didn't owe you an explanation, especially now that you're not together, but it was still frustrating. He's obviously dealing with something, probably a lot of somethings, and he's too stubborn to admit it. That stubbornness is gonna be the end of him, you swear. It was what ended your relationship. Partially.

"Here, I'll help." Mike fumbles to help you pick up papers and crayons, colored pencils and candles. After a few minutes, it doesn't look like such a disaster.

"Oh, by the way." You pour yourself a cup of coffee, and start to stir in a few spoons of sugar. Too much sugar, for Mike's taste. "Abby's little blue dolphin stuffed animal is invisible to you now, got it? As long as it's in the house, grown-ups can't see it. I think she put it in your room to test you. Just ignore it."

"Is that what you two were doing?" Mike leans back against the counter and scoffs, but makes a mental note to ignore the little dolphin from now one. He'd humor her, if it meant she'd eat her dinner.

"I don't know? I panicked, okay? I had to think of something harmless but still believable and exciting for a little kid."

"And 'invisible stuffed animal' was the best you could think of?"

"This is a warning. Find a new goddamn babysitter or I'm teaching her curses next. And you have to play along."

Mike can't help but smile at that. A real smile.

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Already workin' on the next part don't worry <3

Edit: Part 3

[parkerrogersgirl]

300 Awkward Blind Dates Later...

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You go on a blind date on your birthday so you don't have to spend it alone, but it ends up going better than you expected.

A/N: Hey friends! This is a little birthday drabble for my buddy @roosterforme. Thank you for being such a help and inspiration, you're the best!

Warnings: fluff, maybe swearing, a whole lot of sweetness so book your dentist ASAP, allusions to smut (bc I can't help myself), spice

Word Count: 2,617

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You take a deep breath and fix your hair in your rear view mirror. You look down at your dress and check your phone one last time. You'd thought your ex would at least act like he cared that it was your birthday. He wanted you back, and yet he couldn't be bothered to text you on your birthday. So, that's why you were on a blind date on your birthday.

You put your phone away and walk into the restaurant, sitting at the bar. The bartender immediately comes over and you order a soda, presuming this date won't last long enough for you to finish any alcohol.

Once you have your soda, you let yourself relax a little bit. You let yourself get lost in the bustle of the bar at happy hour. That is until you hear a voice startle you out of your daze.

"Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here, ma'am?"

You snap your head to your left to see the hottest man God has ever created. He has curly brown hair and a gorgeous mustache to match. He's got chocolate brown eyes that you could easily see yourself getting lost in-

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You turn to look at the clock to see that your date is 40 minutes late. You pull out your phone and see that your date had cancelled because you didn't sound like his "type," and he didn't want to waste your time. "I've been stood up, apparently, so I should probably go anyway."

The stranger frowns and takes the seat next to yours, "well, apparently it's a blind date."

"How'd you know that?"

He smirks, "if he knew what you look like, he wouldn't have stood you up. You're perfect."

You blush and as the bartender takes the stranger's order, you ask her for a refill on your soda. Before you can take your card out of your wallet to pay out, a rough hand covers yours.

"You can add it to my tab. Both of the drinks." You look up and meet his incredible eyes.

"Are you sure? You don't even know my name."

He laughs and turns your hand over to shake it, "well, I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw. And you are?"

You introduce yourself, and you notice that although you're not shaking hands, neither of you have let go. There's something... right about how his hand feels on yours. It feels like you're home. You subtly roll your eyes at yourself before dropping his hand.

"Well, Bradley, why do you insist on paying for my drinks?"

He grins, putting his arm around the back of your chair, "well, miss Y/N, my mom always told me to pay for a lady's drinks on a date."

"You're awfully bold to assume this is a date," you raise your glass to your lips, smirking at him over the top.

"You were already here on a date. It's not my fault I had to step into that clown's shoes. I'm just taking a shot."

"And if I said this wasn't a date?"

"Well, I would be crushed. I think you're great. You're funny, you're hot, although we do have to have a talk about stranger danger."

You scoot your stool closer to him and start drawing circles on his leg with your finger. The second your fingertip touches him, you feel him tense up and you smile softly, "I'm hot?"

He leans in closer so his lips are almost touching your ear, "baby you're the hottest person in the whole damn bar. As soon as I saw you, you were all that mattered. Especially because I would really, really like to see you again. Tonight. In my bedroom. Preferably under me. "

You bite your lip and stand, heading for the door. You go out and stand next to your car around the corner and wait. Not even 30 minutes later, you hear the restaurant door open and close, followed by footsteps on the concrete. Bradley turns the corner speeds up, jogging toward you.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can ask Bradley to follow you home, his arms are around you and his mouth is on yours. You moan into the kiss and back up against your car, letting your lips dance with his. His lips were coarse, but in the best way, where it feels like static electricity.

He pulls away and immediately blurts out, "do you want to come home with me?"

"Let's go. I'll come get my car tomorrow."

"No, we'll come get your car tomorrow. I don't plan on letting you go."

-----------------------

@my-emotional-self @thankyouforanonymity @supernaturaldean67 @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @princess76179 @srgntjbarnes @jcc04220 @ilovethefandomwho-blog @a-tale-of-two-comics @p-parkerrr-blog @magellan-88 @healojane @mizz-kraziii @lostinspace33 @esther-maslow-90 @astheskycries @kunaikunari @turningtoclown

[sn00pism]

Reo’s such a cutie patootie, have any ideas for reo fluff? :))

Hi! omg I agree so much! I do believe he needs therapy though.. (tbh all of them need it, maybe except Isagi??)I don't know if you wanted headcannons or a full fic, but I'm happy to expand on this!

Every second of every minute (I want to spend by your side)

Mikage Reo x reader, as per requested.

He's your biggest supporter!

He's also your hypeman!

TOTAL SIMP

He has to wake up early to train but sometimes ends up being late for wanting to spend five more minutes in bed with you

His styled hair ends up all disheveled

(Nagi teases him for it later, but who has a girlfriend? and who doesn't? aha, that's what he thought)

Makes breakfast before he leaves too

(really just buys you something cause homeboy doesn't really know how to cook. He's taking classes though, so sometimes you'll wake up to blueberry pancakes and a coffee (or tea))

Makes sure you're healthy and gets happy when you tag along to his trips to the gym or on walks.

Tries really HARD to make your parents or friends to get to like him.

(Goes overboard on the gifts and you have to hide his card from him to avoid that. If you can, that is.)

On that note, he spoils you as much as he can. He knows your love can't be bought and that your relationship isn't transactional but he just can't help buying you that plushie you told him you wanted the other day... or those earrings... or that book... Or the whole merch section of your favourite character.

Loves it when you wear his jersey to his games, his number on the back along with the big, bold letters spelling out 'MIKAGE'

He really hopes one day he'll get to pull out that ring that's been sitting on the pocket of one of his most expensive coats.

Mikage Reo loves you with all his heart because he knows you love him unconditionally. You've proved that much to him. Staying next to him even on his worst days.

"Reo? you leaving already?" Reo's heart shakes as he sees you slightly lift your head from the pillows, hair slightly disheveled and sleepy eyes, puffy from the sleep. A warm smile creeps up on his face.

"Yeah, big practice today, game's tomorrow, love" You nod sleepily, blinking up at him. "You'll be late today?" You ask as you yawn, hiding your face on the pillows.

He sighs, nodding, "Yeah... I'm sorry, pretty..." You smile at him, warm, understanding, "It's okay..." You reach to grasp his hand as he sits on the bed. "At least I get to see you play tomorrow" You raise his hand to kiss his hand, right on his ring finger. Reo melts.

"Mhm.." He checks his watch and makes a quick decision, motioning you to scoot over. You see right through him. "Oh no no, no, Reo, baby, no" You refuse to move but Reo is stronger, although his hold is gentle with you, and soon enough he's got you cuddled up, head on his chest, cologne invading your nose. A mix of jazmin and vanilla, not overpowering but nice, comforting. It's hard to not melt into his embrace.

"You'll be late, Reo.." You nudge him over but he doesn't budge.

"I've got.." He checks his watch again, "A few more minutes..." He hugs you tighter, kissing the top of your head "I jus' wanna have some more time with the love of my life, don't push me away, yeah?" You sigh into his chest and nod, "Few minutes, love, then off you go"

He nods, little did you know, he woke up an hour earlier than usual today, just to have a few more minutes with you. After all, you're what gets him through his rigorous training, you're the reason he gets up and faces his day with the goal of being the best. The best for you. Even if he already knows, you've told him so many times, that he is the best in your eyes.

You're the reason why, the next day, after finding you in the crowd, wearing his jersey, his number, his surname, he scores at least 3 out of the 5 goals that makes his team win.

After all, there is a shiny little thing stuffed away in his sweater that's laying near his bottle on the field. A little thing that will bound you guys together forever, as he's sure you're the one.

He just hopes you say yes.

I hope you liked this little blurb I pushed out of my tiny, university squished brain! I'm kind of getting back into writing so it may not make much sense and I'm also studying about script writing via Youtube so I'm sorry if it isn't the most coherent thing out there! I listened to 'A real hero' by College & Electric youth. The vibes were just immaculate if I'm honest.

[pedrotonin]

THE TOUCH OF YOU

Paring: Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: You just wanted to have a look, that's all. And now there's an arrangement and you desperately want to touch Joel, but he doesn't let you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Wordcount: 5k

Warnings: Oral sex (both m and f receiving) P in V. Basically, just porn with a tiny bit of plot (if you squint hard enough).

A/N: English is not my first language. If you spot any bad mistakes, please feel free to message me.

You stroll through the few streets Jackson has to offer. Bored out of your mind, no idea where to go, what to do. You used to work at the tiny supply store run by Tommy and his wife, but Tommy caught you stealing last week and fired you on the spot. Over a simple magazine, unbelievable. You wanted to read the damn thing and return it the next day, but he wouldn't have it. Told you you should have asked him, and yes, you should have, but you didn't think it would be such a big deal. The main reason for taking it without asking though, was because it had been an erotic magazine from the eighties. You could only imagine the look on his face when he would've found out that's what you wanted to bring home with you.

Construction sounds float across the street and you walk towards it without thinking, ending up in front of Tommy's house, his two feet stick from underneat his porch. The perfect opportunity presenting itself. You can tell him why you didn't want him to know about the magazine and you can do so without having to look him in the eye. He'll understand, maybe he'll even give you your job back. Worth the shot!

"Tommy?"

No answer, you try again.

"Tommy? Listen, about that magazine..."

"Hm?" he acknowledges you.

"Look, I'm really sorry for not asking you about it, but you know, it being an erotic magazine," you almost whisper the last two words and a fake laugh escapes you. Jezus, this is hard, your face feels like it's on fire.

"Look, I'm not a thief, I just needed to...wanted to, you know, have a look."

He scoots from beneath the porch with a grunt and stands in front of you. Only...it isn't Tommy. It's his older brother, Joel, with a shit eating grin across his face. His plaid shirt is unbuttoned at the top, sweat dripping from his hair, to his neck, down into his shirt. Fuck.

"Where's Tommy?" you ask, not meeting his eye.

"Workin'. Doing your old job, I recon," Joel replies, while he uses the bottom of his shirt to whipe the sweat from his face, revealing golden skin, a slight tummy and a happy trail you can't help but follow with your eyes.

Maybe he didn't hear your confession from his postion beneath the porch. Maybe he-

"So, you wanted some alone time with a filthy magazine, sugar?"

Shit, so he did hear you...

"'S'okay, we all do once in a while," he smirks, leaning against the porch railing.

"No! I just, I just wanted to have a look. That's all!"

"Sure."

You look at his face and find his eyes dark, skimming over your body. Clearing your throat, you mumble your goodbyes and all but run from him. The audacity of this man, unbelievable.

When you close your front door you rest against it, out of breath and cheeks still on fire. Did that really happen? You can only pray that Joel won't tell Tommy. You don't know him very well, but from the stories you heard, he seems like an asshole. A very handsome asshole, unfortunately. Probably best if you stay indoors for the rest of the day.

Goddamn magazine.

A few hours later you wake from your slumber on the couch. Was there a knock on your door? You sit and listen. Just to be sure you open the door, and there, on your little welcome mat, lies the magazine. You quickly grab it and look around, but the street's empty. You stare at the little booklet. What the fuck. This must be Joel's doing. When you flip it around, a piece of paper falls out and flutters towards the ground. You catch it.

- here's your chance to have a 'look'.

Yep. Definitely Joel.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the magazine untouched on your kitchen table. You don't want to give him the pleasure. Or yourself, for that matter. This whole thing is getting way out of hand. You go to sleep without looking, not even so much as taking a peek.

The next morning there's a knock on your door again. This time there's definitely somebody there. The knocking continues and you open the door just a fraction to find Joel standing in front of it.

"Mornin'" he says, "sleep well?"

The stupid lopsided grin on his face angers you to the bone. You're about to slam the door in his face, but he beats you to it. A strong hand forces the door open and before you know it he's walking past you into your livingroom. What the?

You leave to front door open, grab the magazine and throw it at him.

"Get out and take this with you!" you snarl.

He doesn't move and opens the magazine.

"You made yourself come looking at this?" he asks.

Wow, crude! You can't believe he said that! He's holding up the magazine for you to see and it's the first time you actually see the inside of it. The picture is of a woman on top of a man, riding him, her head thrown back in pleasure. Christ, you didn't expect it to be so grafic!

"What? No! You pervert! I didn't even open it!", you cross your arms over your chest.

"Now get out."

"No? Shame. It's a good edition, this one," he shrugs and shows you another page.

A woman sitting on the edge of a bed, her legs spread wide and a man on his knees in front of her. His mouth devouring her.

"This is my favorite," he tells you.

Your eyes widen, your heart almost bursts out of your chest.

"Why?" you blurt out. It's the first word that comes to your mind and you immediately regret saying it out loud. You don't want to have a conversation with him about this!

"Why? Because I fuckin' love doing this. It's my favorite thing. I could do it all day. I would do it to you. I'd fuckin' love to. You only need to ask, darlin'."

Your mouth opens, closes, opens. What? What did he just say? Your brain short-circuits.

Joel walk towards you and puts a finger underneath your chin, gently closing your gaping mouth. He then rips the page out of the magazine, and puts it on your kitchen table.

"Think about it."

Then he casually walks out and closes the door behind him. You just stand stand there, blinking. Looking at the door, to the table, to the offending piece of paper laying there. You grab it and shove it into a kitchen drawer. No, wait, you don't want to keep it. You should throw it away, or burn it. Yes, that's exactly what you're going to do! But once it's in your hands, you can't help yourself... you take a look. If you squint a little, the man looks like Joel, the woman like y- No!! You crumple it and get on with your day.

That night, when you lay in bed, your mind starts to wonder. Would it be so bad if you'd let him? You have very little experience. Somebody tried it once after you'd asked him, but after a few seconds he said he didn't like doing it, didn't like the taste. It made you feel very insecure and after that one time, you never let it happen again. Told the guys who wanted to go down on you, it wasn't your thing. But truth is, you'd love to know what it would feel like and Joel did say it's his favorite thing to do. You start to imagine what it would be like with him. What it would feel like. His face between your legs, gripping his curly hair, his tongue deep inside you. You gasp as you feel your pussy throb. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and walk towards your livingroom. After a short search you find the crumpled piece of paper underneat your couch. Taking it with you to the bedroom, you slowly unfold it. You make yourself come twice. And when you wake in the morning, you're still feeling needy and make yourself come again. This repeats itself for 3 days.

You must talk to Joel.

You find him on his front porch, drinking coffee, reading a book. He doesn't look up when he greets you.

"Mornin'"

"Morning."

This is hard. You practiced this conversation in your head a million times, but now he's actually in front of you, only silence fills your brain.

"Can I help you, darlin'?" he asks, closing his book.

"I- I just want to..."

He stands and opens his front door.

"Come inside."

He steps inside and when you follow he closes the door behind you. You just stand there looking at him like a fool.

"Coffee?" he offers.

"No," you reply. "I came here to...ask you...if you w-" you take a deep breath.

"Yes?"

"Did you mean what you said, Joel?"

He's catching on straight away.

"I'd love nothing more," he's dead serious. "Is that why you're here?"

You hold up the crumpled piece of paper and his eyes darken. He puts his empty cup in the kitchen sink and takes your hand. Slowly turning you around, he grabs your shoulder and gently pushes you into one of the wooden chairs. Taking the paper, he lays it on the table for you to see, then he lowers himself onto his knees in front of you.

"Joel, ha!" a nervous laugh escapes you, "you really want to do this right n-"

"Yes."

He puts his hands on your knees, gliding them up towards your thighs, taking the fabric of your summer dress with them. Then his hands go to the inside of your thighs and back to your knees, slowly spreading your legs.

You bite your lower lip, your fingers gripping the armrests.

He scoots a little closer, bringing his face in between your legs. His nose rubs you through your panties and he lets out a soft moan. You feel yourself getting wet. He must feel it too.

"Been thinking about this every night," he murmers against you. "Can't fuckin' think of anything else."

One of his hands pushes your panties to the side and his fingers slide over you. Your eyes close and a whimper escapes you. He flicks his tongue against you and moans. The sound vibrating against your clit. Your hands fist into his hair and you grind yourself against his mouth.

"So wet already, fuckin' delicious," he slurs.

And that's how it begins. And about an hour and 6 orgasms later, he stops. Not because he wants to, but because you can't take it any more. Your hair is plastered to your face, sweat running down your neck, your legs shaking, the muscles tense and sore. His head rests on one of your thighs, his eyes are closed and he looks utterly content. His mustache and beard are glistening with your juices.

"Joel?"

He opens his eyes.

"Hm?"

"You want me to return the favor?"

He smiles and stands, taking your hand.

"No, s'okay. Let me walk you back to your house."

You're confused, but too tired to argue or ask him about it. So you let him help you to your feet and hold onto him as he walks you back to your house.

It turns into an 'arrangement' of sorts. When you feel needy, you go to him. No words needed. He takes you inside and eats you out until you scream for him to stop. He never comes to your house, and he never asks for anything in return. Always turns you down when you offer.

As time passes, his refusal to receive is driving you crazy. Because he won't let you touch him, you want it more than anything. He's on your mind 24/7. You want to seek him out daily, but you resist the temptation, trying to minimize it to 2 or 3 times a week. It's been 2 days and you're already squirming in your seat. You'll go to him today, and you will ask him about it.

He sees you coming and opens his door with a grin. You sit on the chair, it's the routine, but before he can drop to his knees, you cross your legs. The motion stops him, confuses him.

"Please, sit," you point towards another chair. "I want to ask you something."

He gives you a stern look, but sits down. One of his eyebrows raise while he waits for you to continue.

"I was wondering. Is there a reason you never want anything in return? Is it not working anymore?" you gesture towards his crotch.

At first he just looks at you, blinking a few times, then he chokes, his hand covering his mouth, and then....he starts to laugh. Out loud for christ sake! The rich sound of it echoes through the room. You stare at him, it was a serious question.

"It is working just fine, baby."

He goes to stand in front of you, ready to drop to his knees again, but you're not done with this conversation yet.

"I want you, Joel."

He looks down at you, an emotion you can't identify crosses briefly over his face, but then he shakes his head and it's gone.

"No. You don't."

You touch his stomach, but he flinches away from you. With his back towards you, he starts to breathe heavily. What is going on?

"You don't want me. You don't know me. You don't know the things I've done. I don't deserve it." He turns around again, but he doesn't look at you.

What is he talking about? You raise your hand again, an unbearable need to touch him, to comfort him consuming you, but he puts up a hand to stop you.

"Don't. "

You rise and the both of you stand in front of eachother awkwardly. He runs a hand over his face and you fiddle with the seem of your dress.

"Look. We either continue like this, or we don't continue at all," his voice sounds strained.

You look him up and down. Slowly shaking your head.

"No, please, Joel" you whisper.

He shakes his head and the look he gives you almost makes you change your mind, but you turn around and walk out of his house, out of this arrangement. You need time, time to make Joel Miller accept your touch. For him to enjoy being on the receiving end. You keep walking and don't look back.

Two weeks pas. Three weeks pas. You're working again. Tommy came to your house last week, said he had overreacted and offered you your job back. You have no idea if Joel had anything to do with it, you haven't seen him since your last encounter. The need to seek him out is almost overwhelming at this point. You can think of nothing else. Your job's providing you with much needed distraction during the day, but during the evenings and nights...he's all you can think about.

You haven't come up with a sollution yet. How to convince somebody to be on the receiving end of sex. Ha! Even saying it in your mind sounds ridiculous.

The little bell next to the door shimes, signaling a customer. You look up to find Joel standing in the doorway, his gaze already on you. You stare at eachother for a good few seconds, before he walks in and grabs a box of rusty old nails. He places it on the counter, not meeting your eye.

"These, please."

You wait for him to look at you again, but he won't.

"Joel, I-"

He starts talking at the exact same moment, interrupting you.

"Please, come see me after work?"

You nod while he gives you a once over before storming out of the shop. The box of nails left untouched on the counter.

You leave 5 minutes early, freshen up and put on a nice dress. Convincing yourself it's not for practical reasons, but just to look nice.

He's on his porch, waiting for you. His shoulders relax a little when he spots you, like he was afraid you wouldn't show up.

"Hi."

"Hi."

He opens his door, and you enter, but once inside you're not sure what to do. Do you sit on one of the wooden chairs? Are you both going to pretend nothing happened? Will you sit on his couch? Or maybe you should just stand here and wait for him to make the first move? You choose the latter.

He's nervous, you can tell. His hands are everywhere: in his hair, touching his neck, removing imaginary lint from his clothes. He clears his throat.

"I miss you," he shakes his head and groans. "No, fuck. I mean, I miss our arrangement."

"I do too, Joel"

"Then why didn't you come to me?" he looks almost desperate.

"I want you to get something out of this as well and -."

"I do! I told you, I love doing it," he interrupts you, becoming frustrated.

"and I want to touch you, Joel."

He puts up his hands in defeat, groaning.

"Fuck," he hisses. "I already told you I don't...I can't."

"Yes you can. Just let me, please."

He turns to face you again. You can see his resolve starting to crumble a little.

"If you don't like it, we can stop."

"That's exactly the problem... I will like it. I know I will, and then I'll want more. And I don't deserve that. I always fuck things up. Or you will die on me and -"

He stops himself, he said too much, you can see it in his eyes. He's angry at himself, angry for his blabbering.

He walks towards the kitchen and his hands grip the counter, turning his knuckles white.

He's staring out the window, probably remembering things from the past. After a while his breathing becomes shallow. He's having a panick attack, you recognize them all too well.

You slowly approach, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence behind him. He doesn't, so you lightly touch his shoulder. He doesn't flinch this time, but you can feel his muscles tense. He looks sideways to your hand, confused as to why it's there. You glide it slowly towards his bicep, he allows it. And then, you throw all caution in the wind as you step into him as your arms wind themselves around his waist, your head rests against his back as you hold him. He doesn't move, doesn't even breathe, so you tell him to.

"Breathe, Joel. Just breathe".

The breath he was holding, leaves him in a big sigh and you feel him slowly start to relax in your arms. His shoulders drop and one of his hands folds over one of yours, keeping it in place. The other's still gripping the counter.

You stay like this for a couple of minutes, untill Joel's breathing is mimicking yours. Calm and even. What happens next is something you didn't expect. He turns around, facing you, and after a moment of contemplating, he suddenly hugs you back. One of his hands slides around your waist and the other tangles in your hair, while he molds you against him. He lowers his head so his face rests against your neck and he breathes you in. You stroke his back with one hand, his hair with the other. After a while he pulls back and looks at you. Almost reluctantly, you take a step back. You smile, but his face stays completely serious.

"I will come back tomorrow."

He nods and there is it: a smile. Albeit a little one, it's still a smile. He opens the door and when you walk pass him, he lightly touches your shoulder.

The hours go by ever so slowly. No customers to distract you, only your own treacherous thoughts.

One hour to go and you already can't take it anymore.

The bell chimes and you look up to find Joel marching towards you. His eyes dart around the store, searching for other customers. When he finds none, he grabs your arm and walks you to the little back room.

"Joel? What are y-"

He closes the door, and before you can finish your sentence, he spins you in his arms, pushing you against the door.

"Joel?"

"Couldn't wait any longer," he murmers against the top of your head.

You expect him to kiss you, or drop to his knees, but he doesn't....he just holds you. One of his hands strokes your back, while the other is around your neck, pushing your face against his chest. He smells so good. Woody, smokey, strong, masculine.

You stand there for about 5 minutes before he releases you. You look up at him, finding his gaze already upon you. He brings his right hand to your face to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing your cheek.

The bell chimes again. Of fuckin' course.

Joel motions for you to enter the shop, while he leaves through the back door. You wait 'til he's gone before you walk back inside to find Tommy looking for you.

"Hey. Have you seen Joel?"

"Nope."

Half an hour to go.

He isn't on his porch like usual, so you knock and wait. After a few knocks, just when you think he isn't home, the door opens and he's there. He showered, his hair's still wet and slicked back. He's wearing a dark denim buttom up with the sleeves rolled up, showing his muscular forearms. God, he's so handsome.

You sit on his couch this time, with him right next to you, manspreading, his knee almost touching yours. You're immensely aware of his presence, his body, his heat, his scent.

"Listen," he begins, "this thing," he gestures between you and him "it's not easy for me."

You nod, don't want to interrupt him.

"I don't deserve you,"

There's so much you want to say, but you remain silent. Taking in his pained expression, you can tell he's struggling. He's a man that doesn't like to talk about things.

"and I should probably let you go, but I can't," he pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs.

"I'm a selfish motherfucker."

"I don't want anyone else, Joel."

He looks at you and shakes his head.

"You should darlin', you really, really should."

You scoot towards him. Slinging your left leg over his left thigh, leaning into him.

"But I don't."

His hand starts to stroke your shoulder. His expressive brown eyes seek yours as he leans in and whispers in your ear:

"Then touch me, damnit."

You let your head rest against his chest, angling upwards so your lips graze the underside of his jaw. Your hand starts to slide over his chest, over his stomach, his thigh. His head falls back against the couch, his mouth opens and his breathing speeds up. Your mouth latches onto his neck, your tongue laving avainst the little bitemarks you leave. Sitting up a bit more, you bring your mouth to his ear, while your hand ghosts over the prominent bulge in his jeans. Earning you a low groan. Oh, how you dreamed about this.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear, licking his lobe.

He turns his head sideways and his lips find yours. He kisses your bottom lip and then he swipes his tongue over your top lip. You gasp at the sensation and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

"Hmm, s'good, baby," he murmers against you.

His hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, pulling you on top of him. His hands grab your ass as he guides you over his hard cock. You grind against him and he stops kissing you, instead looking into your eyes while he grunts with each trust of your hips.

Much to your frustration his hands suddenly disappear from your body, as he stands and grasps your arm, yanking you towards his bedroom.

"You're supposed to touch me," he grins as he walks your towards his bed, "not the other way around."

He sits down, spreads his legs and waits.

You don't need any further encouragement. Getting on your knees in front of him, making quick work of his fly and sliding his jeans down. You palm him through his boxers while he strokes your cheek.

You bring your face close to him and gently start to kiss his lenght, enjoying the little moans and hisses that escape him.

"Fuck," Joel groans, "please."

His plea shoots straight to your very core, he's desperate for your touch. Finally.

Your fingers slide underneath the elastic waistband and you push his boxers down, freeing the most beautiful erect cock you've ever seen in your life. He's big, but not overly so. Slightly curved and uncircumcised. A beautiful big vein runs along the side and you lean in to follow it with your tongue, all the way up to his weeping head. He leans back on both his arms, moaning your name with an involuntary trust of his hips.

You take the head into your mouth, gently sucking it, not moving down yet. Your tongue swirling around it and you let your spit dribble down his length, coating him. The sounds he emits make your pussy clench, the need to touch yourself almost overwhelming, but you resist. You never imagined him being so vocal, it's a major turn-on.

Your right hand cradles his balls, while you take him further into your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, your left hand curling around the lower half of his shaft, pumping.

"Fuck," Joel moans above you.

His hips start to move, meeting your mouth, and one of his hands fists in your hair, but he doesn't pull you towards him. The noises that fill the room make you blush. The wet sound of your sucking, slurping, combined with both of your moans.

"I need more," you say while giving his head a last lick.

"Take it, baby, take it," Joel whispers.

You push down your panties and slip of your dress. Joel's eyes widen at the sight of your naked form. Then you reach for the buttons of his flanel, undoing them one by one. Revealing his tan, gorgeous body. A slight spatter of dark hair covers his chest, his nipples are dark and his slight tummy is rapidly moving while he's struggling to breathe. You take his jeans and boxers and slip them off. The both of you stare at each other for a few seconds. Taking the other in. Then he scoots back and you climb on top of him, pushing your soaking pussy against his hard cock. Gliding your wet lips over his lenght, while his hands grip your hips.

"Sweetheart," he warns.

With a slight angle of your hips, his head is suddenly right at your entrance and you lower yourself. You're so wet, he bottoms out in one thrust. Falling against his chest you need a minute to adjust. It's been a while and Joel's not exactly small. Once you feel your body relax you push yourself up, placing both of your hands on his broad chest. His hands are on your ass, kneading, stroking, his cock deep inside of you. Joel needs more too, his hands now griping your arse and helping you move on top of him. He puts his feet on the matress for leverage and takes over. Fucking you hard. You try to meet his trusts but you can't, falling helplessly against his chest. Your orgasm is approaching, your pussy contracts around him. He feels it too.

"You gonna come for me baby? Fuck yes. Please come, please."

His brutal pace combined with his pleas send you straight over the edge. Your body freezes, your pussy fluttering and squeezing around him. He doesn't stop his movements, chasing his own high. Your slick starts to run down his cock and onto his stomach.

"Joel," you moan.

He pulls out of you and his hot cum splashes on your ass. His eyes squeeze shut while he groans your name. You feel another orgasm building from just looking at him coming undone.

When he finally opens his eyes to look at you, you take his hand, and guide his fingers inside of you. He grunts and starts thrusting them in and out of you while crooking them a bit. When he puts his thumb on your clit, your second orgasm almost hits you immediately. A slight stream of liquid gushes out of you onto his stomach. You fall fowards and he holds you, one hand around your back, one hand in your hair. His fingers gently moving inside you until he's sure you're done.

"Sorry, that never happened before," you whisper against his chest. You're so ashamed you don't dare to look up.

"Baby, don't fuckin' apologize for it," he murmers in your hair. "Fucking hottest thing I've seen in my life. Goin' to explore it some more later."

When you open your eyes, you're confused as to where you are, but then memories of last night flood your mind. Joel holding you against him, stroking your back, you must have fallen asleep.

Rolling onto your side you check if he's still in bed with you. He is. He's on his stomach, head resting on one of his arms, awake, looking at you.

"Hi."

"Hi."

You reach for him, but you're hesitant. He notices and takes your hand, planting little kisses on the inside of your wrist.

"Are you okay?" you ask him.

"Yes, you?"

You lean in untill your lips almost touch his.

"More than okay," you whisper against him before stroking his bottom lip with your tongue.

He grabs you and rolls you onto your back, positioning himself on top of you.

"Turns out I was just a little touch starved," he pushes the head of his growing erection against your already wet folds.

"Let's remedy that," you meet his hips and he moans before kissing you.

"Fuck yes".

[multifand0midi07]

Bonita

Valeria and Reader go undercover at a cartel party to find information. Codename: Viper

TW: Violence, kissing/making out, smut, fingering, NSFW, MDNI 18+ only

Viper was completely out of her element.

Valeria had to practically hold her down to get her dressed and ready for the gala. An elegant dress, press on nails, heels, etc. She would kill to have been able to just wear a nice blouse and jeans.

Viper's eyes scanned over the party, shoulders tense and hands folded in her lap.

"Relax, you're so tense." Valeria rested a hand on her shoulder, checking her out shamelessly.

"I can't help it, boss." She huffed, rolling her shoulders and trying to relax. "Do I have to wear all this? Makes me feel vulnerable, and open to male conversation."

"Just keep it together for a few hours, nena." Valeria laughed, sipping her cocktail. "We don't want all my hard work to go to waste. Just play it off, you're having the time of your life."

"What, you can't tell i'm having fun?" Viper said sarcastically.

"Hey. Relax, okay? And stop fidgeting." She hissed, eyes darting around. "The whole point of this is to blend in. You can't do that if you look like you have a stick up your ass."

"Yes, boss. Sorry." Viper pursed her lips and sighed, relaxing.

"Better." Valeria purred. "Now you look like someone to take advantage of."

Viper held back her disgust, then noticed a man smiling and watching her from across the way, his eyes scanning over her. "Oh, Mami. Please don't tell me I have to flirt with a man."

"You wanted to come with me, bonita." Valeria rolled her eyes and huffed. "It's what the job calls for, baby. Now stop complaining and go." She chuckled and nudged her forward.

"Rather flirt with you." Viper murmured, adjusting herself before walking towards the man.

Valeria laughed and watched her go, eyes locked on her ass.

She found the man eagerly waiting for her, taking her hand as she approached and kissing it. "Hello, beautiful."

"Hi...handsome." Viper cleared her throat and shifted her weight.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The man asked, putting his arm around her and pulling her close, clearly in need for her company.

Viper could feel Valeria staring a hole in her back from across the room. She was definitely getting revenge for having to flirt with a man later. "Sure, why not?" She shot a look at Valeria.

"Perfect." He hummed and directed her back to the bar, ordering two martinis and sitting next to her.

Viper felt the man place his hand on her thigh, grabbing his drink and taking a sip while she completely downed hers.

"Woah, slow down sweetheart. I need you to remember things."

"Sorry, long day." She lied and scooted closer.

"So what brings you here tonight, pretty lady?" He asked, his hand slipping further up her thigh.

Viper held back her disgust and plastered a smile on her face. "Oh, my friend brought me. We needed to get out of the house."

"Oh, where is she?" He looked around.

"Bathroom, had to refresh her makeup." She lied.

"Y'know, sweetheart. You look like you enjoy expensive things." He smirked, his hand nearing the apex of her thighs. "With my job, I can give you anything you want."

She tilted her head, feigning interest. "Really, what's your job?"

He leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I work for the cartel, baby. I'm rich."

Viper's eyes lit up and she leaned forward, now this was someone she could get information from. "Wow, it must be very dangerous."

"Very dangerous." He confirmed. "Look, let me take you out to dinner and then take you home."

"Well, baby, how about you let me think about it." She could feel him fiddling with the bottom of her dress and had the intense urge to gag.

"I'm sure I can persuade you." He murmured, his thumb caressing her bottom lip.

Viper met Valeria's gaze from across the bar before leaning in and placing her lips on his.

The man grinned and quickly took charge, the kiss turned sloppy and aggressive and she could taste the liquor on his tongue that was making it's way into her mouth.

Don't gag, don't gag, don't gag.

She pulled away, trying not to wipe her mouth just yet. "Do you have a room in the hotel?"

The man smirked and nodded. "Eager, huh?"

"You could say that." She answered. "Lead the way."

He got up, taking her hand and helping her out of the seat. "C'mon, baby."

Viper sent a nod towards Valeria and followed the man all the way to his room. They passed the rest of the party and then entered one of the elevators in the lobby.

He couldn't wait any longer, pushing Viper against the wall and forcing his lips on hers, his hand pulling her knee up to straddle his waist.

"Wait, wait-" She yelped and pushed him away, playing it off with an excuse. "I'm not a fan of being caught, can we wait until we get to your room?"

"Fucking fine." He grunted and pulled away. "Prude."

Viper narrowed her eyes but brushed herself off. The elevator stopped on the third floor, he guided her to a room nearby. 312. "This it?"

"Yeah." He answered and opened it with his key, pushing her inside and closing the door behind them. "C'mere, baby." He pulled her close and kissed her before pushing her back onto the bed.

"Wait, I should at least know your name, so I know what to call you when we..." Viper tried to stall, waste time so Valeria could find her.

"Call me Vic, sweetheart. What's yours?" Vic climbed onto the bed, pulling her closer.

"Nessa. It's Nessa." She lied quickly. His hand was quickly making its way back up her thigh as he kissed her, forcing his tongue down her throat.

"Fuck, baby. You taste so good." He groaned, his hand reaching the apex of her thighs and pressing against her core through the fabric of her underwear.

Viper gasped, panicking internally as he slid the fabric out of the way and pressed a finger against her entrance.

Where the fuck is Valeria?

She just had to wait until Valeria was there and then she could drop the act.

Vic slowly slid his finger into her warmth, grinning. "There we go, baby, suckin' me in."

Viper heard a knock on the door and patted his shoulder. "Someone's knocking." She pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He groaned and pulled away. "Fucking interrupting me and my girl." Vic walked to the door and opened it, getting a gun to the face in greeting.

Valeria pushed him inside and closed the door behind him. "Sit, now."

Viper sighed in relief, getting up and grabbing a chair for him to sit in.

"What the fuck?" Vic growled and sat down, but only because of the gun pointed at his jewels.

"Shut the fuck up, and don't move." Valeria snapped. "Baby, come here." Viper walked over, letting her wrap her free arm around her waist and pull her close. "He touch you? You hurt?"

"Yes." She answered with a nod. "But he didn't hurt me."

"Same thing." She murmured, then shot Vic in the knee. Thankfully she had a silencer.

Vic screamed and grasped his knee. "What the fuck!"

"You touch my girl again and it'll be worse." Valeria growled. "Now here's what we're going to do. You're going to tell me who your boss is, and where he's going to be in a week, or i'll shoot your dick."

"Fuck you." He hissed.

"Wrong answer." She was just about to shoot him when he sputtered out a response.

"Wait wait wait!" Vic spoke urgently. "His name is Yeneriel Vasquez but he goes by 'The Spider.' He'll be in Las Almas again next week, he's got a mistress that he sees constantly."

"Good boy, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Valeria smirked and shot him anyway. "Lets go, baby. You did good."

"Gladly." Viper turned and kissed Valeria's cheek before following her out. "I don't ever have to do that again, right?"

"Never again, bonita."

"Good. I won't punish you then." She smiled.

"Oh? You were going to punish me, hm?" Valeria smirked and closed the door after putting her gun away.

"Well, i'm not, now." Viper huffed as Valeria pulled her closer by her waist.

"That means you don't have to miss out on your reward now." She hummed and kissed her.

"Hmm, does that mean I can take all this off when we get home?"

"You can wait a little longer, can't you? I'm going to ruin you just like this."

"I can wait."

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

i need some… junkerqueen x (T)male reader where she just kind of comforts him with his eating disorder.

TW

i sometimes literally can’t bring myself to eat, not cause anything is wrong i just… can’t? food is icky.

thank you adrien, truly. you are everything.

anything for you pookie (I'd like to formally apologize for that)

Y'all see that trigger warning in the ask? Yep, that carries over into this piece. Crazy, right? Anyway, this'll have themes of eating disorders and unhealthy relationships with food. If that isn't the thing for you, then please don't read this. I don't want people getting triggered by this. I love y'all too much for that.

Odessa pushes the bowl towards you once again, trying to get you to eat the food that she had made. "Love, you really gotta to eat something."

You pushed the bowl back, just the thought of picking up the spoon and putting the soup into your mouth made you want to vomit. "I can't, Dez," you respond quietly.

Your girlfriend sighs, frustrated, and you could feel tears welling in your eyes. The two of you had been at this for almost an hour. Something wasn't right today. You couldn't understand why she couldn't get that you just couldn't eat. If you did, you'd just throw it right back up.

"Love, I'm really trying here. You haven't eaten all day. You really, really need to get something in you before the day is over."

Biting your bottom lip, you tried really hard not to let the tears spill.

You failed.

The warm tears glided across your cheeks and Odessa's face softened. She scooted her chair so that she was sitting next to you instead of across from you and wraps on arm around you, pulling your face into her chest. "Oh, y/n," she said, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

"I'm sorry," you cried.

"Nah, don't be sorry. It ain't your fault. I know you don't want things to be like this."

You gripped onto your girlfriend's shirt for dear life, trying to convey how you were feeling without saying anything. Before you could try and stop her, Dez picked you up and held you bridal style. "We're gonna lay down, m'kay? Maybe you need some time to chill before trying to eat again."

You nodded weakly and let her take you to your bed, the bowl of soup forgotten on the table.

Dez laid you down before climbing in herself, letting you rest your head on her chest. She ran a hand through your hair, and another wrapped around you protectively.

"I don't do it on purpose," you said.

"I know you don't."

"It's just that sometimes I look at food and just feel sick. Doesn't matter if it's my favorite food ever, I still feel like I'm going to hurl if I eat it. And I hate it. I hate it so much because I just want to eat like a normal person."

"I know."

"Why can't I be a normal person? Why can't I just eat food like most people do? Why do I have to be so fucked up that-"

Odessa cuts you off. "You're not fucked up. It ain't your fault. Yeah, sometimes you feel sick when you try to eat. That don't mean that you're fucked up. You just need some help. Every good warrior needs help sometimes. I need help sometimes. Don't mean I'm weak. You think that makes me weak and fucked up?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer. Just cause you need some help don't mean nothing. Now, shut up and take a nap. We'll try again later, and if you still can't eat then we'll figure something out."

You nodded and stayed silent for a little while. "I love you, Dez."

"I love you too. y/n."

[lailawinchesterr]

part nine, in a good way [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

nine,

C'mon I know this. Explain S phase. I know this. DNA replication. I know what he's talking about but all I can think of is yesterday. All I can think of is Jensen driving me home, kissing me, texting me after.

Getting me lunch, clothes, paying for our drinks... everything he did yesterday. I'm wearing his jacket even today because God that cologne can kill.

But that's not the point. The point is... S phase? What's S phase? Right, DNA replication. So... hydrogen bonds break then... 

But his hand on my neck yesterday, pulling me closer while we kissed. My first kiss ever. With Jensen Ross Ackles. Then him saying he wants to do it again later. What's later? He said Sunday but it's his busiest filming day, maybe it's for drinks again? I wouldn't mind, but I'd rather we go eat.

"Pens down!" My eyes widen and I place my blue ink pen down into the table, hearing it clatter and my whole future crashes with it. I haven't finished quarter of this paper. I thought the exam was two hours?

"Laila," the TA ‘tsks’, Connor, as he looks down at my paper, "you didn't finish this question. It's easy, you should know it."

"I do, just don't have time." He looks around, seeing most of the students getting up and handing their paper to the professor at the end of the class. He motions to me to quickly write it down and I don't think I've ever written so fast in my life.

I manage to finish the six mark question just in time for him to take my paper and hand it to the professor without much suspicion. I pack up and while I'm walking out he winks at me. 

Choosing to ignore the shit exam, I call Gen so we could go out for anything really. Usually set would be my go-to but since yesterday with Jensen there's something holding me back from casually walking into set, maybe afraid that our dynamic would change. I haven't been there since we talked.

I change my mind half-way through writing the message to Gen. I don’t want to let what we did yesterday affect me this much. He's probably working normally, focusing on his fucking job, so why can't I focus on my future? This is so stupid, I don't do this. I don't let romantic feelings get in between me and my grades. Not since I failed a whole year because of a boy back in middle school, not happening again, ever.

I decide to do what I usually do on Fridays, study on set with Jared. I won't change my routine.

+

"Hey, Lils." Rachel calls out and immediately she hugs me. "We haven't seen you in forever."

"Two days, Rach." I let out a laugh as we let each other go.

"Two days too many. C'mon, we're getting lunch. Or they're making lunch— either way!" We walk over to crafts where lots of tables are set and most of the cast is sitting in groups. She drags me over to the table with Gen, Jared, Misha and Alex.

"Hey, guys." And for the first time in the history of ever, my seat is between Jensen and Rachel. And I actually sit in it. "How's filming?"

Misha smiles at me— that's the most noticeable response to my action, anyways— but everyone else just answers my question then keep talking about scenes and plans for the weekend. 

Then, "Lils, how was your exam?" Gen's question makes me freeze for many reasons. One, it reminds everyone how much younger I am than them, something I like not bringing up as much as physically possible. Second, it puts me under the spotlight and I can not lie for the life of me.

So I hum and nod, hoping that's an acceptable answer for the whole table (who probably don’t care that much anyways). And thankfully they shrug it off and keep talking. 

Two seconds into random conversation Jensen scoots his chair closer to mine, whispering into my hair, "How'd you do today?"   

Smiling, I face him to look as honest as I can, "It was fine. Just didn't have enough time to finish it." He seems genuinely concerned as he puts a hand on the back of my chair. 

"Yeah? You think you'll do well? 'Sides, you said this is a mock, when's the final?" I'm not actually sure when I said it was a mock but the fact that he remembers is giving me butterflies in places that shouldn’t have so much feelings in them. My heartbrainlungs.

"Hopefully I'll pass. But yeah, just a mock. Final's in two weeks." I keep my voice low so as to not disturb the rest of the group, but Gen is already giving me a look and I can feel Rachel's eyes burning into my side. 

"Laila, you sure you're on for Sunday?" Damn, this again? "And don't go defensive on me—" 

"I know, Jensen. I'm not. Yeah, Sunday's good," and for extra measures, "and today had nothing to do with our date yesterday."

"Date, huh?" The corner of his lips pull upwards as he leans back in his chair and I roll my eyes. I go to shove his shoulder, like I would with Jared or maybe even Misha, but quickly decide against it and look down at my bag instead with a small laugh. 

Now that grabs the entire table's attention. Before I can explain anything— thank the Lord— a PA runs up to us, calling on Jared, Jensen, Misha and Alex. 

The four men leave and that allows my two girls to huddle up next to me, screaming for an explanation. God, this feels like high school all over again.

"Nothing, we're just friends now. Who went on one date," I flinch back a little before adding, "and have another one planned for Sunday." They both explode into a fit of giggles and now I really feel like it's high school.

"You're joking! You have a date with Jensen, again?" Rach's question is both due to curiosity and... concern?

"Yeah. So what?"

"So... Lils, we talked about this. You told me I'm right." She says exasperatedly, and I can see it in her eyes that she's as concerned as an older sister would be, but still.

"Yeah, so what—"

Gen clears her throat. "Right about what?"

"Jensen's older than me."

"Well, no shit."

"See?" Rach points at the brunette, "Genny agrees."

"That what? That they're a bad idea? No way! Jensen and Laila could be good for each other, the age thing is just a little bump in the road. They need to talk about it ‘s all." I have to hold in a laugh at how ridiculous her suggestion is. Me? And Jensen? Communicating? Why? Have I lost my head?

"Guys, we don't even know if me and him are, like, getting serious, it's just a tiny date." Of course, I'm only saying what I think Jensen wants. I've never been on a date, never had a boyfriend, never kissed or had my first time. Jensen is my first everything if he decides he wants me for the long haul— but he's had all that. And more. He has kids. 

I can't think about this. If I do, I'll drop everything and block Jensen's number and maybe even overreact by killing myself. 

Great. Sunday is going to be great.

part ten

i want to change the oc to x reader when I’m done with the whole thing, what do you guys think? tags: @kr804573 @n-o-p-e-never

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Drunk Confessions |Bang Chan|

I smiled and watched everyone party about the awards we won. There were of course drinks more specifically alcohol. It's been hours of us partying and I had my fun and drinks but I was too exhausted to get drunk. I was running out of steam but the boys seemed to be having the time of their lives. Well, not all the boys the younger ones still didn't have the tolerance to drink much so they were passed out on the couch. Han and I were the only ones not smashed but we were pretty tipsy so when we brought Jeongin and Seungmin to their rooms we stumbled a bit but we both knew they wouldn't wake up anytime soon. Honestly, I don't blame them for knocking out so fast they just wanted to have a good time on top of that we won a few awards. After getting the two into their dorms Han and I went to ours.

"Good night," I said my words a bit slurred.

"Night," Han said back his words slurred as well.

I got ready for bed I felt like two and a half hours of partying was good enough. I laid in bed still hearing the music being blasted but I didn't mind as long as I was laying down. The music finally died down two hours later giving me the chance to fall asleep now. I closed my eyes but then heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I asked annoyed drinking some water as I was mostly sober.

"Chan" I heard in a very slurred tone. "I wanted to talk"

"About what?" I asked a little nervous as he walked closer to me sitting on the floor in front of me. You could tell he was drunk by the way his eyes looked and how relaxed his body is then usual.

"Why are you always pretty?" He said leaning his head on my bed and looking at me. "I don't understand it"

"Chan-"

"Shhhh," He said putting his finger gently on my lips. "Let me talk"

I just nodded as he took his finger away from my lips. He smiled and giggled watching my confused face.

"I like you," He said.

"Chan that's the alcohol talking," I said looking at the man I've had a crush on since the beginning.

"Wait I lied," He said.

"See the-"

"I love you!" He giggled grabbing my hand.

"Chan please don't lie to me," I said shakily, maybe I'm just imagining it maybe I'm not fully sober.

"I'm not," He said frowning. "Why would I lie to you?"

"Why all of a sudden? Why now?"

"I just wanted to, do you not love me back," He said looking down.

"No!" I said before pinching the bridge of my nose. "That's the complete opposite, I do love you"

"See! We can be together" He smiled happily as if he were a kid.

"You won't remember this tomorrow" I chuckled.

"How could I forget you?" He said his head bobbing back and forth.

"Here come in bed," I said scooting over so he could climb in. I know I can't drag him to his dorm and I didn't want him on the floor.

"Okay.." He said as his words got softer and softer. Once he got in bed he looked me in the eye one last time before he passed out."I really do love you..."

"I hope you remember this" I whispered running my fingers through his hair admiring him before falling asleep myself.

I woke up and felt arms around me. My head hurt from drinking but I remembered everything. I tried to escape Chan's grip which only grew stronger. I turned around and saw him with his eyes closed.

"Stop moving I'm trying to sleep" he mumbled.

"And I'm trying to escape," I said still fighting his grasp.

"Stop and stay for a little more," He said opening his eyes.

"Do you even remember last night?" I said looking away from him.

"Not some of it but what I told you" He cupped my cheek and made me look at him. "Was all true, I love you I have for a while but never had the balls to tell you"

"I love you too"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was too scared," I said.

"Guess we both could've been together a while ago if we told each other."

"It took one drunk night to get a confession," I said as he grabbed his head groaning. "Was it worth the headache?"

"Yeah because we wouldn't have told each other our feelings if last night didn't happen."

"You should probably get cleaned up I'm gonna go get Motrin and make hangover soup for everyone," I said as he finally let go.

"Fine," He said getting up. "I love you"

"I love you too" I smiled softly before leaving the room the only other person up was Han.

"Good morning ready to deal with hangovers and laugh at them?" Han said.

"For sure" I smiled as we got to work.

[samiwife]

The Anti-Social Girl ੈ✩‧₊˚ (Sami Yaffa x Reader)

A/N: This is my first Hanoi Rocks fanfic so if it's bad I'm so sorry, also pls send a request because I would love to do more of these. <3

𓆩♡𓆪= Smut

ੈ✩‧₊˚= Fluff

⋆ ★= Angst

Parties were never your thing. You preferred to stay home and watch tv and read. So when your friends dragged you out of your room to go to a downtown party of another friend. You weren't really fond of it but you still came along because they promised to take you home early.

"C'mon Y/N! It'll be fun! Plus, we'll take you home early if you don't have fun." They said to you, your face unfazed by their pleas. But, eventually, you caved and said yes. Your friends cheered and an hour of getting ready later. You were set to head out. You wore a short light pink sparkly halter dress with white high heels. An outfit a bit out of your comfort zone since you always wore oversized band tees and shorts. But, it was nice to wear something fancy once and a while. While your friends drove you to the party, you sat in the backseat thinking to yourself

"I'm not going to have fun, I'll be bored out of my mind." You looked out the window, passing by all the luxury buildings and apartments. Until you eventually reached the party. You stepped out of the car and walked forward to the house where the party was located. When you walked through the door, the music immediately started blaring and you can see red solo cups everywhere with beer cans. You were also not fond of drinking. All in all, you just weren't a party person.

You walked passed blackout drunks sleeping on couches and couples kissing on tables. You just wanted out. You walked to a nearby corner and stood there checking your phone while the music still blared in your ears. After a few minutes of nothing, you decided to grab some water from the kitchen nearby. You walked over and grabbed an empty solo cup and filled it with water from the sink. As you sipped the water, a tall figure started walking towards you. It was a dude who was completely drunk. You could smell it on his breath and you can also see by the way he walks.

"Hey pretty lady, you came here alone?" He started with a slurred speech from drinking. You were disgusted by his breath. You stepped back a bit.

"Uh no, I came here with my friends." You said with confidence and still keeping the distance between you and the drunk guy. However, that distance was soon gone when he stepped closer causing you to back up even further. But, you couldn't back up any further since now you were pinned against the kitchen counter and him.

"A hot girl like you shouldn't be all alone since there are drunks around that could hurt you." The man says still being too close for comfort. You became nervous now since he was so close for comfort and he was being super creepy.

"You have such a nice body too, such slender hips and nice thighs. It would be a shame for your body to go to waste." The man said in a deep tone, you gulped and tried to scoot away with no avail. You felt more uncomfortable than before. You just wanted to get away from this guy and go home. As you were thinking that, you saw another figure come up and yank the dude off of you. The guy who saved you wasn't as tall as the drunk but he still was tall. He had dark hair that went to his shoulders and not to mention his hair was kinda curly. He also wore a leather jacket with tight black jeans.

"Hey! Can't you see she's not interested." The raven-haired boy said to the drunk guy. The drunk guy scoffed and turned his head to look at the raven-haired boy. The drunk guy looked up and down and chuckled at him.

"Huh and how do you know? She's so into me. She's been standing here the whole time listening. And plus why do you care? So get lost fuckwad." The drunk said to the raven-haired boy. The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes and then his eyes widen a bit. Kinda like he had an idea that went off in his head.

"Well that's my girlfriend you're hitting on, so I suggest you back off or you're going to be on the ground." The raven-haired boy states with such confidence. Your eyes widen, you were shocked by his claim but you decide to play along to get yourself out of this situation.

"Is this true? Is this loser your boyfriend?" The drunk guy asks you making sure the raven-haired boy wasn't lying. You smiled and scooted closer to the raven-haired boy. You wrapped your arms around the raven-haired boy's arm and cuddled next to him.

"Yes, that's what I've been trying to tell you. But you just wouldn't listen." You said while still having your arms wrapped around him. The raven-haired boy smiled and his cheeks flushed red. After a few seconds of silence, the drunk guy stumbled away leaving you and the raven-haired boy alone. You quickly unwrapped your arms and sighed.

"Thank you so much, that dude was a total creep so I appreciate this." You said with such relief in your voice. The raven-haired boy smiled and held your hand to comfort you. You looked up to get a better look at him. Damn, he was beautiful. He had shiny blue eyes that were laced with black eyeliner. His lips were nice and plump. His hair was kinda messy but in a good way. No doubt you were falling for him hard.

"Well, I'm glad I can help in any way I can. I hate to see creeps making girls uncomfortable especially ones who are gorgeous like you." He said with a smile. You felt your heart beat race fast but not in a threatening way. It was beating in a lovey-dovey way.

"I'm Y/N by the way." You said with a smile back. He chuckled and looked into your eyes. His eyes were so pure and beautiful that you felt like you can stare at them all day and night.

"I'm Sami nice to meet you Y/N." He said while shaking your hand. Even his hands were enough to make you faint. They were warm and not sweaty at all. To you, Sami was so perfect and you were wondering if you can stay longer at the party to talk to him.

"If you want Sami, we could hang out somewhere else maybe upstairs where there are fewer people." You said while still maintaining eye contact with him. Sami smiled and took your hand and led you upstairs to a bedroom. You assumed it was his because he seemed too comfortable walking in. In the room, Sami closed the door behind him and sat on the bed next to you. In the corner of his room, there was a single bass guitar.

"You play bass?" You asked while pointing at the bass in the room. Sami smiled and stood up and walked to the bass. He picked up the bass and held it in his arms. He played a few cords and smiled.

"Yeah, I do, in fact, I'm in a band actually," Sami said with such pureness in his voice, which caused you to blush a little. Then you chuckled and said, "Can you play a song for me?" Sami looked up and blushed. He nodded and held his bass in his hands and played a couple notes from a song you didn't recognize. You listened while he played. You were impressed by how he can play. It was nice and smooth and catchy. After the song was over, Sami looked up to see your reaction. You were smiling widely while blushing. You clapped your hand to applaud him on his song.

"Whoo yeah! That sounded amazing. What song is that?" You asked with your arms crossed across your chest. Sami looked down again and smiled. "It's a song me and my bandmates were writing but we haven't released it yet." You were amazed by his bass playing. "You should release it, it sounds great!" You said with a smile. Sami walked over to sit next to you. You can tell he was blushing because of your comment. "You really think so?" Sami said while caressing your hand. You looked down then back up at Sami.

"Yeah, I really think so." You said. Sami then gently grabs your chin and pulls you in closer to him. You closed your eyes, and soon your lips met with Sami's. His lips were soft just like you assumed. Then the kiss deepened and soon Sami's hands were on your thigh gently caressing them. You pulled away and looked at Sami. Sami was still blushing while having his hand on your thighs. You leaned in for another kiss until you heard a loud voice calling out your name.

"Y/N! Y/N! Where are you? We gotta go now!" One of your friends called out. You sighed and looked at Sami. Sami looked kinda sad you had to go, but you assured him that he'd see you again.

"Don't be sad, you'll see me again. Sami." You said with a wide smile. Sami stood up and held your hands. He looked like he wanted you to stay longer with him but unfortunately, you had to go. Then an idea popped into your head. On a nearby table in the room, there was a pen and paper. You walked over to the pen and paper and wrote your phone number on it. Then you ripped that small portion you wrote on and handed it to Sami. Sami smiled and opened it.

"Call me kultaseni." You said while walking to him. You stood in front of him for a few seconds and then you gently pulled him in for one last kiss before you left. Then you walked out the door while turning to look at him. Sami's face was bright like a tomato. And he had a slight lipstick stain on his lips from your kiss. Your friends saw you coming down the stairs with smeared lipstick.

"What the hell happened to you? I thought parties weren't your thing." One of your friends said as you got into the car. You giggled and smiled while looking down at your lap. The thought of Sami made you want to get out more to see him.

"Well, I guess parties aren't so bad after all." You said with a slight giggle in your voice while wiping the smeared lipstick off your face