#I can't even mention just dance around them at this point

[mountainsandmayhem]

Maid Discreetly - Chapter 5

Tommy Miller x Female OC (18+ only)

Story Summary: After what he did to your best friend, fuck Joel Miller and the horse he rode in on! But a twist of fate has you falling for his brother, who is also your dad’s friend. Oh, and did you mention that you hate him? Can love really conquer all, or should you just settle for kinky hot sex with an older man? Chapter Summary: Mother Nature has other plans for you first client onboard, but it can't really be that bad being "stuck" with Tommy Miller. AN: Trigger warnings are underneath the cut in small red letters to avoid spoilers. Please remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for all future chapters. Divders by @saradika-graphics. As always thank you to @lotusbxtch and @for-a-longlongtime for helping me expand on my ideas and add all my punctuation xo. And, thank you to this anon who reminded me that I had dates on chapters still. Thanks to them, you're getting 2 chapters in one day. WC: 4.2k

Story Masterlist || My Masterlist || Joel and Kim

TW: rained in trope, flirting, mutual pining, thunder/lightening and rain. Really nothing to be aware of, they're just dumb and falling in love - let them be!!!!

You

Your drive out to Tommy’s is uneventful; singing along to nineties Shania Twain kept you occupied during your trek. Due to the timing of your drive, more people were coming into Austin than going out. Summer is in full bloom now as July starts to turn into August. At this point in the year, the rolling hills around the highway are covered by full green trees. Eventually, the foliage opens up to reveal the popular lake communities about 30 minutes outside of downtown. 

Even though dark clouds have started to crowd the skies, the AC in your custom cherry red Jeep isn’t doing much to stifle the heat. This morning, you debated if you should take your Bentley or not, but with the chance of rain for the first time in months, and driving outside of the city, the Jeep seemed safer; plus, you know the moment it starts to rain, everyone will have forgotten how to drive.

Soon you see the sign you’ve been looking for - “Rancher’s Cove: Next Right”. Tommy’s new home is built in the latest development near Lake Travis. You turn off the paved highway onto a poorly packed gravel road. You thank your earlier self for settling on taking the Jeep as dust blows up around you and rocks crunch under your oversized tires as you bump along the road. Tall coniferous trees line the path, blocking the heat of the sun and casting you in shadows. After following a bend, the trees open wide, revealing a man-made lake and one single log cabin at the furthest end. You and Tommy are completely secluded here; no other homes have even started construction. 

You did a bit of research on the area, so you’re prepared with both flats and heels. Mentally, you decide the flats are best; you’ll change into the company-issued white Keds when you get into his house. You kept it professional today, wearing black wide legged slacks and a red short sleeve bodysuit with a matching thin red belt. Your laptop is tucked into your computer bag on the passenger seat. 

You follow the gravel ring road around the lake, and as you pull up to the impressive home, you notice Tommy sitting on the porch with a guitar, looking effortlessly handsome in dark jeans, a fitted white t-shirt and well-worn work boots. His sleeves clings deliciously to his biceps, and as his strong hands pluck at the strings, the sinew and tattoos that line his arm dance. 

Well, fuck, you quip internally. You haven’t even put your Jeep in park yet and you’ve already had an inappropriate thought about your dad’s friend. As you step out of the vehicle, he rests the guitar against the house, pushing back his cheekbone-length hair as he stands and heads over to you. 

“You made it!” His voice is friendly, like you’ve known each other for years and he’s been sitting there waiting anxiously for you. 

“Am I late?” you ask, slightly panicked, glancing at the Tiffany watch your mom and dad gave you as a graduation gift. You don’t wear it often, only as your good luck charm. The black leather band connects to a round face that’s surrounded by small diamonds. The twelve is denoted by a delicate heart made from a ruby, and white diamonds of different shapes make up the rest of the numbers. 

9:57

“No,” he says, stopping at the bottom of his porch steps, “not at all.”

As you open the passenger door to grab the Louis Vuitton bag that holds your laptop, you remember what he said outside your dad’s home office almost a month ago. He doesn’t feel like he fits into the excessive wealth that you’re surrounded by. Shame licks at the base of your spine for showing up in a custom-painted Jeep and a watch that probably costs more than people make in a year. You always knew that you came from money, but you’ve never realized how excessive it was until meeting Tommy. He reaches out to grab the bag from you, a gesture of chivalry, but it feels wrong to hand it to him.

“I got it. Thanks, though.” He smiles and then gestures towards the porch. “This home is absolutely beautiful, Tommy.”

He smiles sheepishly. “It’s kind of excessive.”

“No, it’s stunning.” The gravel crunches under your flats as you walk alongside him towards the porch. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”

“After you, then,” he says before you ascend the stairs.

You stop when you reach the two large wooden front doors, each with a colourful glass mosaic inlay. Tommy opens one and you hold in a gasp as he leads you into the open concept foyer. Straight ahead are large floor-to-ceiling windows that are easily twenty feet tall. The man-made lake sparkles in the small glimpses of sun through the clouds. A wooden dining room table sits just before the windows, the kitchen to the right; stainless steel appliances that blend seamlessly into the wooden walls and cabinetry. His countertops are made of dark chestnut brown granite swirled with silver. To the left of the table is a massive eggshell sectional couch facing a fireplace embedded with rock, a large flat screen tv mounted above it. 

Your eyes travel up the tall rock chimney to a catwalk style hallway up in the wooden beams of the space. You follow the hallway to a staircase to your right. Your eyes travel to the opposite side of the house again; it’s so beautiful and there’s so much to see that you almost feel almost overstimulated by it. Two frosted mosaic glass doors on your left close in one of the only rooms on this floor. The floors are all wood, matching the walls of the log cabin. Plush, off white area rugs are thoughtfully placed under the dining room table and tv area, making the spaces feel cozy and homey.

“Tommy,” you whisper, following him towards the dining room table. “This is - I mean, wow. I’m speechless.”

One of his hands moves from his hip to cup the back of his neck, rubbing at it sheepishly, but there’s a hint of pride in his voice when he responds. “Thank you. It’s taken me a long time.”

“You built this?” you gape, dumbfounded, forcing yourself to focus on him and not look around again.

He chuckles at your response. “Yeah, it’s kind of my job, remember?”

“Right, duh,” you backpedal and then cringe. Smooth. “So, I guess we should get started. Would you mind giving me a tour of the areas you’d like us to handle? I’ll take some notes and then we can discuss further and get the contract together.”

“Sure, let me put your stuff down and we can walk around.” He holds his hand out again for your bag. As you let it slide down your arm, your Keds that were hooked onto your fingers hit the hardwood with a soft thud in front of his dining room table. 

“Shit. I’m supposed to - Oh my God, I just swore. I’m so sorry,” you stutter, passing your bag to him then scooping up the shoes and scrambling back towards the door. 

“It’s really okay,” Tommy says. “The shoes, I mean; the swearing was unacceptable.” You spin to apologize again, a horrified look across your face, to see him laughing. 

“That’s not funny, Tommy,” you say with a slight pout. “I want to do this properly, like we didn’t know one another.”

His thumb and forefinger smooth his moustache. “Well, I certainly hope you wouldn’t drive out to the middle of nowhere to meet a strange man.”

You slip your flats off at the front door and then pull your Keds on. You smirk as you tease, “How long do you have to know someone before they aren’t classified as a stranger? Because one could argue that that is exactly what I’m doing right now.”

Tommy’s hands land dramatically on his chest. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

You both let out a laugh and once your shoes are on, he saunters towards the kitchen. You grab your notepad and pen from the side of your bag before meeting him there.

“Mister Miller, is it?” you joke, putting on an air of professionality. “If you wouldn’t mind, please elaborate on what we at Maid Discreetly can do for you.”

“You’re an idiot,” he laughs, his voice playful. Preston called you that exact name multiple times, but it never made your heart skip like it did just now.

“Huh, that’s probably going to cost you extra,” you quip. The two of you laugh again and it all feels so normal, like you’ve been joking together for years. “Ok, seriously. Talk to me about what you’re looking for.”  

“Me, seriously? You’re the one swearing.” You shoot him a facetious glare before he continues. “I plan to be out here fairly often. I have an apartment in downtown Austin, but I think I’ll be out here four or five nights each week, so maybe someone can come out once a week and split the tasks up?” You can feel him watching you as you make notes.

“What kind of tasks are you looking for?” you ask, tucking your long hair behind your ear then pushing the curled ends over your shoulder. There’s a brief flick of his golden honey eyes to the side of your newly exposed throat and then back to your face before he starts to talk again. You wonder if he knows the effect that simple shift of his eyes has on women. 

“I’m a pretty tidy guy, but someone who could deep clean the kitchen, dust, and vacuum the main floor every week would be ideal.” You follow him as he walks past the dining table and into the living room. “Maybe they could also do baseboards and at least change over or start laundry? Is that too much for someone?”

“No,” you smile, following him towards the living area. “That’s pretty standard.”

He nods. “I have everything they’d need here, or they can bring their own supplies.”

It might be a small thing to some, but Tommy saying ‘they’ when talking about his future maid instead of ‘her’ or ‘she’ is so refreshing and beautiful. There is a good mix of men and women that work as cleaners, but more often than not, people assume it’s all women.

“Usually each cleaner is equipped with whatever they’ll need, but if you’d prefer, they can use your things.” You say, fluffing the throw pillows on his couch. When you catch him eyeing you you shrug, “Habit.”

“Let's go upstairs,” Tommy says with a laugh, avoiding your eyes this time, almost as if it’s too personal or intimate to look at you when talking about showing you his bedroom. He comes to an abrupt halt when he faces the windows, and you almost run right into the back of him. “Shit, it’s getting really dark out there.” 

You take a few steps around him, getting as close as you can to the window and look up at the sky. Dark grey clouds now completely crowd the sun; it looks like the floodgates could open at any minute. “Good thing I drove my Jeep.”

“I don’t know,” he starts, and you become very aware of how closely he’s standing behind you. “It doesn't look like it’s going to be ‘a little rain’ like they predicted.” His voice is thick with worry. “Maybe you should go, try to beat the storm.”

You want to tell him that you didn’t drive all the way out here to not get the sale and let your dad down, but instead you play it cool. 

“I’ve driven in a rainstorm before, Tommy. Let's get the tour done and we can discuss pricing another time. We can do that part virtually or whatever is easiest for you. I’ll be fine.” As those last three words leave your lips, you turn to face him; just as your back is to the window the room lights up before a loud crack of thunder rattles the house. You let out a squeal of shock, jumping closer to Tommy - you’re almost pressed against him. Your heartbeat races and adrenaline courses through your veins, then you laugh at yourself.

“I’ll be fine,” Tommy mocks in a high-pitched voice, joining in your laughter but not stepping away.

“It startled me,” you joke, pushing at Tommy’s chest. 

“Real tough girl, hey?” He says, raising an eyebrow when your shove does nothing. 

You scoff, “Relax, old man. I could take you in a fight.”

Tommy

He chuckles, shaking his head as he turns and starts to walk towards the stairs. The words come out before he can stop them. “Good thing I’m about to show you my bedroom then.”

Fuck.

Before he can apologize, or dig himself a large hole, or wander right into the man-made lake outside, you speak up. Your voice is full of sarcasm as you say, “Ah, so saying ‘shit’ is not okay, but being a dirtbag is. Noted.”

“That was inappropriate. I’m sorry,” he says, not looking back as you follow him up the first few stairs because he can’t stop the ear to ear smile that’s plastered itself across his face. Your wit and banter never ceases to keep him on his toes. 

“I have so many things I could say back,” you reply, “but I am clearly the mature one here, so let's just move on.” You’re both silent as you climb the stairs and when you get to the top, it’s raining so hard that you almost can’t see the lake he’s still contemplating jumping into.

“Whoa, it’s really coming down all of a sudden,” he says. When he looks in your direction, your bottom lip has disappeared between your teeth as you stare out the window at the large puddles forming along the gravel roads. 

You nod. “Yeah, well, let’s make this quick, I guess.”

He leads you across the catwalk. “There’s two bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom on the other side, but since they’re empty, someone can go in there once a month.” He glances back at you, but you seem slightly distracted and he hopes it’s not from his ill-timed joke. Once you both make it across the catwalk, you stop outside the master bedroom. He slides open one of the two barn doors and you both step into the seating area of the bedroom, his bedroom. Two oversized leather chairs - perfect for reading or drinking his morning coffee - sit in the middle, a wooden arch behind them opens to the bedroom. Straight ahead is a king size bed; to the untrained eye, the frame is beautiful and ornate, but it’s full of spots for him to restrain whoever he decides to bring here. The entry to his large bathroom and the walk-in closet are to the left. Inside his closet is a spiral staircase leading down to his office on the main floor. He doesn’t plan to show you that since he won’t need cleaners there.  

The far right wall of the bedroom has big windows, just like the main floor. Rain bounces off the glass loudly and he watches as you wander towards the window to look out. Even though he built this house for himself, he went into autopilot mode while designing it. It’s meant to be lived in by a husband and wife and their two kids. That was never something he saw for himself, but seeing you in his bedroom has what could be flashing before his eyes. You shake him out of it when you finally speak.

“Is that a bathtub?” you ask, looking down at what he knows is a small outdoor sauna and bathing area. The trees surrounding the walkway and tub are tall enough that the only way for someone to see it is through the windows in his bedroom or the stairwell from the office to the closet. 

“I figured it was a nice touch,” he says nonchalantly, coming to stand beside you.

“This house is spectacular, Tommy,” you breathe, glancing up at him. “Truly. I keep looking around and I can’t believe that you built all this. You’re incredibly talented.”

He feels the pink rise in his cheeks. He knows he’s done a good job when the homes he’s built sell for seven or eight figures; the men on the job site don’t praise him like you have. He runs a finger across one of his eyebrows as he responds. “I had help.”

“Oh, well then I’m less impressed,” you respond with your signature wit and sarcasm, one corner of your mouth lifting enticingly. “Let’s recap and talk about pricing. Hopefully the rain slows down and then I can be out of your hair.” 

 The two of you head back towards the kitchen, sitting side by side at the island to go over your notes and come up with pricing. The conversation is strictly business, but whenever you look down at your laptop, his eyes immediately go to your lips. He remembers the way you looked at him in your parents’ pantry, so sad and full of self doubt; that’s not the woman he sees now. This version of you is confident and knowledgeable. He hopes that maybe he said something to help you, although you don’t seem like the type of girl who needs help with anything.

You jump again when another loud crack of thunder sounds. He keeps his comments to himself this time, too enthralled by watching you talk to interrupt you. He knew when you stepped out of that Jeep today that it didn’t matter how much you asked for. He might not be as well-off as your family or Joel, but he’s fortunate enough that he doesn’t have to think about money. He was signing this contract either way. You type in the final details and tell him that you’ll send it to him to sign in the next few days. 

“It’s still really coming down,” he notes as you slip your feet into your flats. “Maybe you should just wait it out a bit longer. I can make coffee or something.” The meeting overall was fairly quick, only about an hour and a half, but it’s been pouring down sheets of rain the entire time.  

“I think it’s slowed down a bit. I’ll be fine, Tommy,” you say, smiling up at him as you slip on your flats. “Thank you for your concern, but you really don’t need to be.”

Always the gentleman, he opens the front door for you, revealing conditions that are so much worse than he expected. There’s no more gravel driveway, no more road leading to the other side of the man-made lake, nothing to get you safely from his home at the end of Rancher’s Cove to the properly paved highway. No, it's all just a muddy, slippery disaster. 

“You’re staying here,” Tommy says and starts to close the door. You put your hand out and then step onto the porch. 

“It’ll be fine, Tommy,” you repeat, an edge of annoyed determination in your voice. Your arm waves in the direction of your vehicle. “I have a Jeep, this is literally what they do.”

“There’s no road!” he exclaims, following you out on the porch. He grabs your wrist and you turn to look at him. “It’s literally a swamp out here. I half expect Shrek to show up and yell at us.”

He watches you roll your eyes and his grip tightens on the delicate skin of your wrist. He can feel your quickening rising pulse along his thumb. Is his touch the reason for your increased heart rate? 

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” your voice is flat and determined as you continue, “Look, it’s not that far, the highway is, like, right there. The rain isn’t letting up. I can’t get stuck here.”

You twist free from his grasp, then remove your watch and put it in a zipper pocket of your bag. He watches as you hug your laptop tight to your body before you take off running towards your Jeep. By some miracle, you don’t slip in the thick mud that's become the ground. Tommy knows this isn’t a good idea and thanks his lucky stars that the tractor he used to haul all his building materials around is still here; his vintage mustang that’s parked in the garage certainly isn’t making it out of here when he inevitably needs to rescue you. Your headlights kick on as you start the engine and he leans against the railing with his arms crossed.

Stubborn little thing, he thinks to himself as the red Jeep backs up through the muck to turn around. He can see that when it comes to you, he’s going to have to make it your idea to do what he wants. He hasn’t had a challenge in a sub in a long time; maybe that could be you. 

As you pull forward, the muck takes you, sliding your car towards what used to be his grass and is now his very own mini bayou. You hop out, mud splashing up your pants, and look around the Jeep. Within seconds of being out in the rain that you proclaimed was slowing down you’re drenched from head to toe, clothes sticking to your body and your waterlogged dark hair dripping. 

“Get back inside, sweetheart,” Tommy calls over the sound of the rain splashing. He knows by the defiant stiffening of your spine that you heard him, but you jump back into the Jeep and start to rock it back and forth in hopes of getting yourself out of the rut. Mud and his newly laid sod spit up behind your rear tires. Tommy shakes his head as he heads back inside, grabbing a few large bath sheets from the closet in his office; fluffy white towels meant for the sauna that will now be ruined from all the mud you’ve collected. 

After a few minutes of trying to get unstuck, you only manage to dig yourself deeper into the hole. There was no leaving today, he knew it and you probably knew it too. Be that as it may, you just proved to him that you don’t like being told you can’t do something, and fuck do you look cute all flustered as you try to prove yourself. Finally, you swing the driver's door open. The bottom of your black pants are caked in mud, he can tell your shoes are ruined, and the curve hugging red t-shirt is even tighter. As you hop out of the vehicle his eyes are drawn to the way your nipples have pebbled in the cold rain. 

Don’t look at her nipples.

“Come here, I got your bag,” he yells and you run back to the covered porch. He holds the towel out for you, wrapping you tightly, your intoxicating blend of pear and mint now mixed with the scent of fresh rain, and god damn does he want to kiss you and then punish you for being so fucking stubborn. His eyes run over your face and body, making sure that you’re ok. 

“I’m fine, Tommy,” you say, pulling the towel tighter as you start to shiver. 

As he reaches inside to grab an umbrella, he says, “Interesting that the safety of your designer bag and watch come before your actual safety, sweetheart.”

He jogs to your Jeep while popping open the umbrella. Just as he’s about to open the door the beep of the door's locking sounds. The sweetest sarcasm floats across the yard to his ears, “Sorry? What was that?”

He spins, trying not to lose his footing in the mud, and looks at you. You’re shivering, yet smiling deviously, holding the key fob that must have been in your pocket. “Open the door or you’ll be sorry.”

“I’m already drenched and covered in mud, that’s not a threat.” You laugh. 

He tries to use his best dom voice, not that he thinks it’ll work on you. “I’m not playing around here, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, “Big tough guy like you can’t handle a little rain?” 

“Open the doors or I will make you pay.”

You roll your eyes at him again and his palms tingle with the urge to spank you.

“Now, sweetheart,” he says with a growl.

He’s not sure if it's from the chill in the air, but your cheeks pink a little at his words before the doors open. He keeps your luxury laptop bag under the umbrella as he walks back to the porch. As he ascends the stairs, you smile at him cheekily and it takes everything inside of him not to pick you up and drop you in the mud. Instead, he does the gentlemanly thing and after putting your bag inside, he uses the other towel to remove as much mud from your pants as possible on the porch. Once he’s satisfied, he toes off his boots then pulls you inside. He kneels in front of you to help you out of your ruined shoes. Your bare toes are like ice in his hands and he tracks the small shivers racking your body.

Your teeth chatter as you say, “Just let me warm up and then we can pull me out with that tractor.”

He stands, hands running up and down your arms over the towel. He has to play this carefully while still being firm with what's going to happen today. He lowers his voice to a calm baritone that always works with his brattier subs. “I fear that you aren’t going anywhere tonight. I will lend you some clothes. Go to the master bath, please.”

He feels you deflate under his palms, your voice coming out in stubborn determination. “I can do it, Tommy.”

He smiles at you softly, stepping beside you and placing a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the stairs. “I never said you couldn’t, sweetheart. But it’s too dangerous. So, for me, please just stay here tonight. By morning, the storm will have passed and we can get you unstuck. Okay?”

He follows you up the stairs and towards his bathroom, watching as you pull the soaked towel tighter around your chilled body. “Okay.”

He bites down on his tongue to stop the instinctual ‘good girl’ that wants to escape his lips and then says, “Thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me.”

You pause in the sitting room of his bedroom. “Sh-Shouldn’t I use the other bathroom?” Your voice is low, wavering slightly. Tommy gets the feeling that you aren’t accustomed to someone taking care of you.

“If you want to. I don’t have any toiletries over there, but if you want to use that side I can bring them. The shower is bigger here though.”

“We..I’m - Tommy, I don’t…” Your eyes shoot to his, panic clear across your face as you sputter. He realizes in that moment what he just insinuated and pulls his hand away from your back, raising them up.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’ll change in the other room while you shower and then I’ll be downstairs whenever you’re done. I just meant that it’s a nicer shower - it has a steam function.”

Crimson stains your cheeks and you nod, he takes it as his cue to go start the shower so it can warm up for you. He can feel you watching him from the archway. You seem almost unsure of what to do next, and for someone so self assured and unafraid, it’s an interesting juxtaposition to the girl he knows. He slides open his dresser drawer and pulls out a pair of black sweatpants, followed by a white t-shirt. He glances your direction and gives you a small and reassuring smile. His eyes fall to your bare toes, the nails painted white for summer, the skin red from how cold they are. He opens another drawer and takes out a pair of socks then wanders to his closet to grab a zip up black hoodie. 

He takes the clothes and puts them on the bathroom counter; when he comes back out into the room you’ve stepped past the threshold of the arch. Something has shifted between the two of you; the air in the room feels thicker. He clears his throat gently before he speaks.

“Take your time. Why don’t you toss that towel and your clothes out here and I’ll wash them for you? You, umm, you can pick different things if you want.”

“No, that’s ok. Thank you, Tommy.” Your voice is shy and uncertain and he misses that snarky smart ass from earlier. 

“You look freezing. Go warm up. And seriously, take all the time you need.”

Thank you everyone who's gone on this little journey with me. I know that we don't write for the notes, but it would really mean the world to me if you reblogged. Tommy Miller, or at least my version of him, is severely under loved lol.

[surr3al1sm]

I got my best friend back into Just Dance but they only have JD2022 and he just send me a picture of a score he got (it was a superstar so SLAY!!)

What bothers me is that he made me guess which song it was. I didn't know because the song name was covered so they gave me a hint. The hint was DILF. So yeah ofcourse the song was

[bbokicidal]

SKZ + Oral Fixations/Habits

The boys have some.. filthy habits that have to do with their mouths.

Genre: Suggestive (18+ MDNI) Pairing: OT8 (Individually) x Afab!Reader Warnings: Sexual/Suggestive Behavior, Perv?SKZ I guess, spit related kinks, tongue, eating out mentions, etc. Notes: Take this as a small apology for my brief absence while I was sick. (I still am...)

Chris:

Chris honestly doesn't have a whole lot of bad habits that have to do with his mouth - but he does have a need to constant keep his hands moving which means he picks at his lips. He doesn't peel the skin or damage them at all, lest the company chew his ass out, but it does make you constant look at them. Then again, they're so plush and warm and they taste like mint all of the fucking time - every time you look at them you can't help but remember what they felt like against your skin the night prior when he was sucking hickies onto your chest and moaning out how good you taste when he was between your legs. Brief, pleasant flashbacks that rile you up - all because he touches his lips.

Lino:

Minho doesn't have too many bad habits - other than the fact that he likes to always be sucking on something or chewing gum. When he's chewing gum, it's usually during rehearsal because he'd choke on a hard candy doing all that dancing - So you'll be sitting on the couch filming or watching and your boyfriend is in loose grey sweats, a black tee, and he's pushing his hair back damp with sweat while he chews his stupid little Red Hot gum - and you can't help the way your eyes drift to watch the way his jaw moves so fluidly every time it opens and closes briefly. You've seen it move that smooth before - but that was when he was eating you out and his tongue was fucking into you before he moved to instead suck on your clit and you'd caught a quick glimpse of him from the side in your closet mirror.

Changbin:

Man likes to eat - everything. The way he brings the chopsticks to his lips and the way his arm flexes just briefly every time he does so makes your thighs snap shut where you sit beside him. It reminds you of the way he likes to wrap his arms underneath your thighs when he eats you out - and he always does so, so lazily. Never a bad thing, he just likes to take his time when he's going down on you. And he wouldn't have to wrap his arms around your thighs if you weren't so wriggly with him when he was between your legs. Though, he truly doesn't know just how much you like feeling his muscles tightening around your hips and thighs - and you don't know how much he loves feeling the plush of your thighs trapped in his arms.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin likes to be expressive - even when he's not trying, he's making faces at everything around him. So when something mildly annoys him or catches his attention in a less-than-pleasant way, the tip of his tongue prods the corner of his mouth while his lips are parted. It's a habit he's had for a long time, something he does right before he laughs when someone is teasing him. A way to show he's mildly irritated but laughing it off. He does it with you, too, and that's how your arguments and disagreements dissipate so quickly; You'll be bickering, you say something that irks him and the second he pushes his tongue against his lips, you fold. He watches the way you slump and melt at the sight and his expression of disapproval turns into a smirk. He knows the way you like his tongue - He knows you melt every time he sucks on your chest as he ruts into you like he's desperate to come all over your gummy walls (He is.) And he'll use that little trick to his advantage every time y'all argue.

Han:

Jisung likes suckers - point blank period. He likes suckers, he likes the taste, he likes the feeling of something in his mouth, he likes twirling the stick between his fingers - and you love the little color ring that stains his lips because it just makes him look oh-so-cute. He's oblivious to the fact that you adore it so much and how cute you think it is; He just really likes sweets and candy is a part of that. There's nothing sexual about it - Jisung just... likes suckers, and you think it's cute that he's kind of messy while eating them. His fingers always get sticky, somehow. (Though.. he does really like the taste of you when the taste of the sucker itself still lingers on his tongue...)

Felix:

Man is NASTY. Nasty, filthy, whore of a man. He's the type of boyfriend who, when comfortable enough, will turn to look at you in the middle of practice and - before anyone can catch him - flicks his tongue out between his index and middle fingers just to make you squirm and giggle. Definitely kinky - definitely likes to suck on his fingers after eating and does it loud just so you hear it - and he does the exact same thing to his fingers after he gets done making you orgasm all over his hand. He'll even lick his rings clean because he knows you like when he keeps them on during sex. Also, he looooves the taste of you - so he's going to be fingering you a lot; Under the table at dinner, cuddling in bed together, even while he games! Honestly, don't sit too close to him or it will end up happening.

Seungmin:

Seungmin gets annoyed relatively easily, and when he does his tongue pushes at the inside of his cheek. It's from annoyance, anger building up, and you know that - but when you express to him that you find it kind of hot he starts to use it in other ways. He does it when you tease him because, yes it annoys him a tiny bit, but he also knows it turns you on. And, he quits sending you texts asking you for BJs. Instead, he'll turn to you and silently push his tongue against his cheek a few times as the gesture - and when you nod he'll get all smiley because he knows he's getting head that night.

I.N:

Jeongin likes to be messy. He sticks his tongue out all the time anyway, he doesn't really need anything in his mouth - including his own spit apparently with how much it ends up on you. He's always leaving wet kisses over you during foreplay, always leaving your nipples slick with his spit because of how much he abuses them with his tongue. And if Jeongin is being a little more mean that night during sex, he'll drag your hips up closer to his face with his arms wrapped under your thighs and stick his tongue out until his spit drips onto your clit. It makes you flinch and whine and beg him to just eat you out already - but he can't help it. He just loves seeing the way it slides between your folds and mixes with your glistening slick. He loves when you're that wet for him. <3

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - kidnapping, stalking, symptoms of depression, and obsessive behavior. reader's not doing great in this one and dick's doing worse.

Dick Grayson gets around.

Whatever you're thinking, it's not like that - except when it is. He's just the people person, the golden child, the performer. He's everything that Bruce pretends to be whenever he takes off the cowl and plays socialite. He remembers names, calls on birthdays, sends out Christmas cards the second snow hits the ground. He knows everyone, and he gets what he wants.

You get around... less.

Not that you don't show you face. No, someone committed to staying totally anonymous would never make it to one of a hundred annual galas held by Wayne Enterprises, stocked to bursting with reporters and celebrities and wealthy Gotham transplants, eager to make a good impression with local royalty. He spots you sticking close to the wall, moving between polite conversations, careful never to stay long enough to make a lasting impression. When you're not busy, your eyes dart from wall to wall, tracking waiters and taking stock of the exits. Every now and then, the light catches on a diamond ring you hadn't been wearing a second ago, a sapphire necklace too expensive to hang so sloppily from your neck.

You're transparent, if a bit out of place. Even pickpockets usually had the decency to skip charity events.

His course of action is swift, surgical. He corners you next to the bar, offers to buy you a drink. You counter, explain with a smile that you couldn't take a stranger's money. He adopts a new tactic - asks you to dance with one, instead. Another parry, now you're looking for your date. After fishing for a description, he mentions he might've seen them on the balcony. His scalpel run through your throat, you take his arm and let him lead you outside.

The routine is standard, practiced to the point of perfection. Find a corner away from the other guests, apologize for ending your night so early, then produce enough cash to pay half a year's worth of rent for Gotham's most expensive high-rise - just like he has a million times before with a thousand other petty thieves. Dead-eyed, you card through the bills slowly. Finally, you look to him.

"This isn't really my line of work."

Dick grins. "I can tell."

"Is there a closet we can use, or...?"

He blinks once, then twice. You stare at the money in your hands, eyes glassy and expression hollow. It doesn't take long to clear up the miscommunication. You leave with your stolen treasures and a well-earned tip, and Dick neglects to mention the incident in his status report later that night.

The next day, he seeks you out on instinct, tells himself it's no different than a follow-up for any other case. You are not a people person. You don't smile at strangers, or greet your neighbors by name, or let your eyes leave the sidewalk as you make your way through the rush-hour crowd, your pockets a little heavier with every step. Your apartment is a testament to your separation - no pictures, no creature comforts, no spare tooth brush left by the sink in case of overnight guests. There's only one cup in the entirety of your kitchen, a little black mug with white paw prints painted around the center. He leaves a second on your doorstep - this one decorated rim to base with blue jays.

You aren't from Gotham. That's clear enough, but it's cemented by the phone calls he overhears from your windowsill every Sunday morning, all reassurances to a faceless recipient that you're doing fine, that you have plenty of friends, that your stressful-but-rewarding corporate job is keeping you busy enough. You have younger siblings - a lot of younger siblings. He got to know them as he went through your phone, perched on the edge of your twin-sized mattress, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest in stolen glances. The most recent picture was taken more than two years ago, but he can't judge. He knows what it's like to be the trial run, the practice round, the disappointment. At least you have the self-awareness to keep your distance from the people you love, to make sure the only thing you can hurt is yourself. He's never been so strong.

And you do hurt yourself, don't you? He's seen the drawer of treasures you can't bring yourself to sell, the collection of unopened bills on your dining room table, the strung-together days you go without letting yourself so much as see another person. He knows why you want to be left alone, but even you can't go on like that, not forever. Everyone needs someone. No one can completely resist the urge to leave their mark on something else - anything else, even if they really ought to know better.

And you know that, too. You don't even scream when you wake up in Dick's bed, hands bound and body curled up against his chest. It could just be the lingering sedatives in your system, sure, but he'd like to think that you remember him, that you know you and him are two of a kind, birds of a feather. You ruin everything you touch, but maybe, you won't ruin him.

Maybe, just maybe, you won't ruin each other.

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[melodyofmbaku]

Touch of a Woman (Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie)

Preview: “Annie, laughing at another man’s touch... And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach."

Warning ⚠️: sorry in advance

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N Wheeewww. I haven't done something like this in a while. Hope you like it. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist __

The invitation came in a stiff white envelope with gold trim and Smoke’s full name printed on the front like he was somebody important.

Elijah Moore.

An old acquaintance from Chicago — one of those slick-talking men who still called him “Big E” — was throwing a formal dinner and ball just outside town.

Society folk. Wine glasses so thin they looked like they’d shatter from a hard look. Smoke hadn’t planned on going. But the man insisted. Said he wanted both of them there.

That’s when the fight started.

It wasn’t loud at first — just a look from Annie when the name was mentioned. A tightness in her mouth when she asked, “So… this friend of yours. He the same one you used to run with your Chicago crowd?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away. And that silence was all she needed.

“I ain’t never hear you mention this man before.”

“Annie, we was boys,” Smoke said, shrugging off his shirt. “Ain’t seen him in years.”

“But clearly ya’ll close enough for you to get an invitation. Funny.”

Smoke exhaled. “What’s funny?”

“That every time I turn around, there’s some part of your past I ain’t never heard about. And now I’m expected to smile pretty and shake hands with folk who think I don’t belong in the same room?”

He turned to her. “Ain’t nobody said that.”

“They don’t gotta say it. It’s in how they look at me.”

Smoke stepped forward, voice low. “You think I’d bring you somewhere you didn’t belong?”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “ I know I belong. It’s just exhausting havin’ to prove it.”

Smoke’s jaw worked. “Annie—”

“I seen the way you talk when you’re with them. Straighter posture. Less drawl. Like you gotta prove something.”

He swallowed. “That ain’t fair.”

“No, you a man who had a life before me. And that life’s gonna be there in that ballroom. That’s fine. I can handle it. But don’t expect me to smile while I’m bein’ measured.”

He didn’t have an answer. So he didn’t speak. He just watched her gather herself. The tension swelling in the room.

“We don’t have to go.”

“I’ll go,” she said finally, looking at her shoes. “I’ll play nice. I’ll wear the dress and I’ll eat the food and I’ll do the dance.”

Her voice dropped then — more vulnerable than she meant it to be.

“But don’t you dare act like I’m crazy for feelin’ what I feel.”

And Smoke didn’t respond. Just shut down.

They got dressed in silence. Shared a ride in silence. And now here they were — walking into the ballroom, with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

___

The room sparkled in soft golds and low voices, the kind of place where everything smelled like money. Annie looked like she belonged — radiant in a deep plum dress, hair pinned to perfection, chin lifted with that sharp, self-made grace.

But her stomach was tight. The heat hadn’t left her all evening, and the champagne did little to cool it.

The two had parted a bit earlier after doing their rounds. Annie with a few ladies she met near the restroom and Smoke to the man who called out to him obnoxiously across the room “I know that ain’t who I think that is!”

It had been some time and she was looking for her anchor. 

She turned her head — her eyes searching the room — and stopped cold.

There he was. Smoke. Near the far end of the room, framed by marble pillars and candlelight.

And across from him, smiling like memory never faded, stood Delilah.

Green satin. Long lashes. Too-close posture.

Annie couldn’t hear a word, but she didn’t need to. Delilah’s hand touched his coat sleeve, light and deliberate. Smoke didn’t move. Didn’t push her away. Just stood there.

Just fuckin’ stood there.

Annie’s throat went dry. Her grip tightened around the stem of her glass.

From across the room, it looked like something private. Something kept.

She didn’t watch long enough to see what came next. Didn’t give him the chance.

She turned.

Walked away.

And the rest of the night passed like the taste of something bitter — stuck in the back of her throat no matter how many times she swallowed.

__

As they entered the house, Annie set down her purse and slipped off her shoes.

“Well, she was real pretty. Real refined. Bet it brought back memories.”

“I didn’t know she’d be there.” Smoke said.

They’d reserved their argument for when they got home. Wanted to spare the cab driver's ears.

He had 40 minutes in the car to formulate an explanation as to why he was talking to his ex girlfriend at the party and that's what he came up with? He was cooked.

“We ain’t even made up from earlier. You barely said ten words to me. And then here she comes — all soft smiles and shared history. Ya’ll get a quickie in the broom closet too?”

Smoke shot her a look.

“Don’t start. You had an attitude before we even got there. This ain’t got nothing to do with Delilah and you know it.”

“Bet you were happy to see her. Your favourite city girl.” She scoffed. 

Smoke noticed it under all that anger, there was a thread of insecurity. 

He sighed deep. 

“Annie. I can’t help that I had a life — a woman —before you.”

“I’m sorry that people got to experience a different version of me, I can’t do nothing about that.” 

She spun on her heel quickly. Heat in her eyes. 

“I ain't talking about people. I’m talking about her.”

Smoke still stood his ground and refused to fight fire with fire. 

“Ain’t no her. I ain’t seen the woman in 7 years Annie and the fact that we talking about this in our home right now is insane.” 

He started towards her. Fingers flexing lightly. He wanted to hold her. Tell her she hadn’t a thing to worry about. 

She stopped him before he got close with a hand. “You stay right there.”

Smoke nodded to himself, once but kept his distance.  A shift passed over him — the soft gave way to something sharper. His mouth pressed into a line, and when he spoke again, the edge was back.

“No woman can hold a candle to you. You ain’t weak. You got nothing to be jealous about. I’m yours. I’m right here!” he beat his chest.

She looked at him almost shocked. 

“Wow.”She laughed bitterly. “That’s what you think this is? Cheap jealousy?”

She shook her head softly before responding. 

“Elijah I’m not mad because you ran into her, I’m mad because…”

She paused before she said the words that broke Smoke's heart into pieces. 

“You let her touch you like she still had a right to.” Her hands shook as she gripped the vanity behind her. 

“Like you ain’t belong to another. You ain’t see anything wrong with that?” She asked.

Now this? This — Smoke could understand. 

He reached out to her once more and she snatched her hand away from him.  

“She touched you.”

Her voice broke. 

“And you’re mine.”

The room went still.

He swallowed. The hurt in her voice hit him in his chest. It wasn’t just about Delilah — it was about him.

“I want you to put yourself in my shoes Elijah.” She started. 

“Another man, with his hands on me. You’d sleep well after that?” She pointed a finger at him. 

She was getting heated again. 

“That image won’t flash behind your eyes everytime you close them? It won’t sow a seed of uncertainty in you?”

Smoke didn’t answer right away.

But the truth crept in — heavy and hot. The picture she painted etched itself behind his eyes: Annie, laughing at another man’s touch, her hand on his chest, her eyes soft.

And just the thought alone made Smoke sick to his stomach.

She saw it land.

“So yeah, maybe it's me. Maybe I’m weak, but if being strong like you means I let people mess with what's mine and I gotta be cool with it? Then I don’t wanna be like you at all.”

He took a step closer, real slow.

“You think I belong to anybody but you?” he asked, voice rough, worn.

Annie didn’t answer. She just looked away.

He exhaled hard, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You ain’t gotta fight for me,” he said, softer now. “You already won." He sought out her eyes. "Baby, I'm right here."

“She touched you,” she said, voice cracking and eyes watering. “And you let her. You didn’t move. You didn’t even look uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t even notice,” he said honestly. “I swear to you, baby. I didn’t notice. I’m sorry.”

Annie swallowed, her voice low and cutting.

“Right. Just muscle memory then.”

Smoke stood there, fists clenched at his sides. He had been keeping himself at bay. Swallowing his anger. Trying. Apologizing. And she’d have none of it. 

Smoke exhaled sharply and stepped back.

Then, without a word, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped parcel. Set it gently on the table between them.

“Here,” he said. “This is what she gave me.”

Annie blinked, not moving. She looked up at him accusatory manner.

"Whats this?" she snarked.

“Open it.”

With shaky hands, she untied the twine and peeled back the cloth. Inside, nestled in paper, was a small muslin pouch — familiar, fragrant.

Sweet balm.

The note underneath read:

“For your lady. Knew she’d need it. You’re lucky, E. Don’t mess this up. —Langston”

Annie stared at it, blinking slowly. Her lips parted, the words not quite coming.

“That’s what she handed me,” Smoke said, voice flat. “That’s what you saw.”

She didn’t move.

Smoke spoke low. “Langston was supposed to bring it from Chicago. I asked him to get it. For you. He got shot last week. Couldn't travel. Sent it down with her.”

Her fingers hovered over the pouch.

“I didn’t even ask her directly,” he said. “She just handed it off. Told me to give you her best.”

Annie’s breath stuttered. The guilt landed heavy.

And that’s when Smoke’s voice changed — quieter, rawer.

She started towards him but it was his turn to keep her away. He shook his head no and took a step back. 

He nodded, more to himself than her.

Smoke stepped back once more and pointed at her.  “You think I’d let another woman put her hands on me — for no reason?”

Annie’s throat bobbed, her fingers twitching on the twine.

Her eyes stayed on the note even as something sharp — shame or sorrow — pulled at her ribs.

“You said you liked that balm from Miss Halloway’s shop. The one you used to buy before from upstate. You been rationin’ it. Thought it might make you feel good to have it again.”

Her arms fell to her sides.

And Smoke saw it—that flicker of realization. The regret. The dawning ache in her eyes as her gaze landed on the envelope with her name on it.

He waited, watching her crumble. But he didn’t soften.

“You wanna know what I find funny?” His voice stayed level, but there was heat beneath it. 

“You stay making all this noise about the person I used to be. About how filthy my lifestyle was to you. And I ain’t say nothing. I took it.”

“But the man I was in Chicago? That’s the same Smoke I am now. Maybe a little softer. But the same damn man. That life — that work, those people — it shaped me. It gave me the spine to stand up for you now.”

“And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you don’t want that version of me.”

He shook his head slowly. 

“I love this life we built. The domestic shit. I really do. I ain’t never been this happy.”

He looked down before looking her in the eyes. “But that don’t mean I don’t carry everything I used to be in my back pocket.”

“I ain’t never dragged up your past like this. I ain’t never ask you to explain that broken engagement. I ain’t never made you pick apart the pieces of who you used to be. I took you. Whole. Mine.” He beat his chest once more.

Annie’s stare didn’t break, but something in her posture shifted. She didn’t stand so straight anymore. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides. The righteous indignation went right with it.

He looked at her, eyes tired. “I know I gotta be strong. I’m a man. My back ain’t supposed to bend, or break. I get it...”

His voice dropped, thick now. “But this? What you doing right now?” He gestured between them.

“You tearing us apart.”

“I knew I’d have to protect myself from bullets, cuffs, and the mother fuckin’ KKK but I ain't never think I’d have to protect myself from you too.”

Annie’s lips parted — but nothing came out.

“And for what?” he asked, nearly whispering. “A trophy for who the most holy?”

His laugh came bitter, breathless “I don’t wanna play anymore. You got it.”

The room felt too small for the two of them. Too tight to hold all that pain.

Smoke nodded to himself, like he’d said what he came to say. He turned, ready to put distance between them.

“You stay here,” he said softly. Always softly with his Annie. “I got the couch.”

As he walked past, Annie reached out — just two fingers brushing his sleeve.

“Elijah…”

He pulled away gently. Didn’t look at her. Just kept going.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Annie stood alone, the silence pressing in.

She looked down at the sweet balm on the table. The note with her name on it. The care he’d shown — even when she’d doubted him.

Her chest rose, then fell.

The tears came slow. No sound, just heat.

She sat down, elbows on her knees, and stared at her trembling hands.

And in that quiet, she saw it clear:

Her grip on his past was standing in the way of their future.

Annie dropped her head into her hands.

And sobbed. __

A/N Ya’ll know me for the love stories but I’m actually an angst monster. ✨Surprise ✨ 😂 

With all this focus on the trio I thought I’d bring it back to give some attention to the OG lovers. 

I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. Alot of ya’ll asked to be on the taglist for it. It’s there, I’ve got about 3 variations I’m working through. Will likely post it next weekend.

Your thoughts and encouragement keep me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

Interested in my future works? Let me know if you'd like me to add you to my tag list. My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

All Fic Taglist @chaneajoyyy @pyraomen @browngirldominion @sarcastic-sunshines @rolemodelshit @bbymuthaaa @boonoonoonus @joysofmyworld @twistedsistas-stuff @blackctrl

@heytemporary @lizbehave @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @raysogroovy @prettygirl2800 @girlsneedlovingfanfics @hotcommodityyy @blackctrl @kkbeauty86 @voydess @soufcakmistress @destinio1 @theethighpriestess @coolfoodrunworld-blog

[angrythingstarlight]

don't know if you've ever had an ask about this before, but I have to know,, does bee like playing the drums with pots and pans and wooden spoons? does bucky join in? or would he get her a real drum set? I feel like malyshka would kill him if he did 😭😭

-🕊️

Steve bought baby Bee a drum set as payback for Bucky commandeering one of his restaurants. He didn't even warn anyone that he was going to do it. He snuck the set in one afternoon and waited.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee

WC: Drabble

A/N: Part of the Bumblebee series.

*

The banging is faint at first. Hesitant. Bee is slowly discovering that she likes hitting these sticks against the drum. The sounds it makes are hilarious. She quickly grows more confident. And louder. So much louder.

Bucky slowly lifted his head off your lap, his eyes narrowed at the open door. "What is that?"

"No clue." You cringe, wondering what on earth was making all that racket.

Just as Bucky is about to go investigate, Steve strolls, a smirk brightening his features as he bites into a slice of carved apple.

"Oh, that is my 'thank you for stealing my restaurant' gift for Bumblebee." He leans against the wall, seemingly unaware of the growing ire stirring in you and Bucky. "I think she likes it. Hey Bee?" He raises his voice over the clatter and banging of drumsticks.

A brief silence. The sudden reprieve from the noise has you sinking against Bucky's shoulder.

"Yes Uncle Steve?"

You don't like that look in his eyes. Neither does Bucky. He's rising off the couch, heading towards Steve.

Steve doesn't move. "You love your drums?"

You know your baby so well that you can practically hear her answer before it leaves her mouth. Bucky is almost within reach of Steve. Her head tilts back and she screams. "I loves it!"

Bucky gets his hand around Steve's jacket lapel, ready to punch him in the chest. He doesn't flinch. Both mobsters are used to trading threats of bodily harm like they're passing around a pack of gum. "Don't you dare—"

Steve grins. Winks at you. "Your papa wants to hear a song Bumblebee. Play him something."

"Papa you wanna hears me? You loves it too?" She's still screaming, apparently too enamored with her new toys to leave her office.

Bucky drops his head back with a defeated groan. And you, well you, reach over and grab your airpods off the coffee table. They're in your ears before Bucky notices. He mouths 'traitor' in your direction and then turns to his best friend.

"We"—he emphasizes with a pointed look at Steve—" can't wait to listen, Bee."

Steve slings his arm around Bucky's shoulder and they walk out. "You know I'm glad we're friends. I hate to think what you would do if we weren't."

Bucky laughs. "Remember Eddie?"

Steve whistles. "That was impressive."

They're almost at Bee's door when Steve decides to test the limits of his friendship. "I should probably mention I bought her a keyboard too."

"You mother–" She pops her head out of the room, Bucky just manages to stop himself from teaching his baby another curse word. "Hey Bee.

Bee grabs both of their hands and pulls them into her office. "Okays first I gonna plays the drums and nexts is piano and den the flutes. I so 'cited Papa." She dances to the stack of instruments taking up space in the corner of her play area.

"What flute? Really? It was only one restaurant." Bucky whispers under his breath, his head turning towards Steve. At least he has the nerve to look sheepish. Maybe he did go a little overboard.

"Dis one Papa," Bee answers, giddy at the thought of playing with all her shiny new toys. She's never had ones like these. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of them.

Both men halt at the loud, piercing, off key noise coming from the flute playing, adorable toddler. "You loves it?"

Bucky sighs because if it makes his baby happy, he will sit through hours of her "music". A smile pulls at his lips because if he has to suffer then so does Steve. "I do Bee and your uncle Steve wants to spend all day listening with me. He canceled all his plans just for you. Right Steve?"

"Weally?" She beams, bouncing on her heels, excitement radiating off her.

For the first time since he hatched this plan, Steve feels a tinge of regret. "Of course Bumblebee."

Bucky lowers his voice, brow raised, his expression becoming devious and calculating. "I'm going to record her and then have one of my guys copy it to a shit ton of tapes and have them stashed at every single one of your homes. Your offices. Your cars. It's going to play on an never ending loop. As soon as you find one, I'll have it replaced with two more."

"Still worth it," Steve replies, settling in one of the chairs across from Bee's makeshift stage. "Alright, sweet Bee, let's go."

[pinkolve]

MDNI !!!

Your First Time With: Spencer Reid

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Summary: You finally tell your boyfriend your biggest secret after a hasty make-out session. Smut ensues...

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT, fluffy smut

CW: SMUTTTT, have I mentioned smut?, first person point of view, use of ‘me’ and ‘I’, spencer reid x fem!reader, semi-dramatic reader, (because I'm dramatic and can't help but channel that into my fics) virgin!reader, possible inaccurate depictions of sex, squirting, vocal spencer reid my beloved!!!

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Please have mercy on me, I am horrible at writing smut. That said, I hope you enjoy anyways!!!

His lips are very eager against my own. His tongue moving along with mine like a dance. I can hear the wet sound of our lips every time we pull away slightly. He pulled me into his lap, each of my legs on either side of him. I couldn’t bring myself to sit all my weight down on him even though we’d been kissing for nearly fifteen minutes. I move my hips forward as I feel myself get wetter just from his touch alone. As I roll forward I can feel his bulge rub against my core. I gasp before pulling away. I’m practically heaving, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m…Sorry.” My voice is filled with terror. “I’m gonna-” I hesitate. “I have to go.” I pull myself up off of him quickly, grabbing my bag from next to his couch.

“Y/N?” He questions, his voice worried. I start walking to the door without looking at him. Right as my hand reaches the doorknob his hand grabs my wrist, pulling me back slightly. I don’t turn to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just have to go.” I try to pull away but he drags me back, turning me around to face him. He puts his hands on both of my shoulders, trying to meet my eyes as I hide them behind my hair.

“Y/N, please. What’s wrong? Did I do something?” This makes me feel like an asshole.

“No, no! God, you’re fucking perfect! I’m just…I’m being stupid.” My bag falls from my shoulder with a loud thud. I bring my hands to cup my face and hide my embarrassment.

“Why do you think you’re stupid?” He sounds so confused.

“Because we’ve been going out for weeks now and I still haven’t told you that I-” I sigh. “I can’t even talk about it properly, I’m so stupid!” He pulls my hands away from my face and makes me look up at him. My face is red and my eyes are slightly wet from unshed tears.

“You’re what?” He asks, his voice serious.

“That…I’m a virgin.” I force a wave of tears back as I search his face for some kind of reaction. “I didn’t want to tell you because I already feel like I’m not good enough for you and…I thought this would ruin everything.” I look down again.

“Y/N.” His voice is rough and soft at the same time. “Look at me, please.” His hands cup my face as he looks at me. “That doesn’t matter to me. At all. I’m sorry if I somehow made it seem like it did.” He shook his head to himself. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin, I just want to be with you.” Tears fall from my eyes as I huff out a relieved sigh.

“I want to be with you too.” I breathe. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it for days.” My voice is only a whisper. He smiles softly before pushing his lips softly against mine. I reach my hand up to cup his on one of my cheeks. I wrap my arms around his neck slowly, deepening the kiss. He wraps his own around my waist, pulling me into him. I sigh as our tongues meet again. He pulls away to trail kisses down my jaw, then to my neck. I breath heavily the more he kisses me. He moves his kisses near the back of my neck behind my ear, nipping slightly. I let out a soft whimper at this. He pulls away, his breathing just as heavy as my own.

“Do you want to…Go to my bedroom?” He asks, his voice soft. I nod slowly, all words failing me. He grabs my hand gently and leads me to his room. He closes the door behind us and lightly pushes me against it, kissing my neck again. He makes his way down to my collar bone, trailing kisses across it as his hands roam up into my shirt.

“Spencer.” I whimper. He pulls away, looking at me and waiting for me to say something else. I point over to the bed. “Can we…?” He understands immediately and nods furiously.

“Yes, yes! Sorry.” He leads me over and we fall on the bed, his body caging me in against it. He continues to kiss my neck as his hands continue their way up my shirt. He pulls away and whispers against my lips. “May I?” He asks, tugging at the hem of my tank top.

“Yes.” I sigh. He helps me pull it over my head. I can see his eyes widen once he takes notice of the fact I’m not wearing a bra underneath. I bite my lip as he stares, worried for his response.

“God.” He practically groans. “You’re so perfect.” Before I have time to get flustered at his comment he leans in and takes one of my nipples in his mouth.

“Shit.” I gasp, surprised at the sudden action. He licks around it and I can hear soft slurps coming from his mouth as he sucks. I’m holding back my whimpers as much as possible. He softly scrapes his teeth along my breast and I moan out. “Spencer!” He pulls away to look at me.

“Too much?”

“Not enough.” I mutter, pulling him down to connect our lips. He moves his hand up my leg and grips my inner thigh from under my skirt. He slowly glides it up further until he’s almost exactly where I want him to be. I softly moan a little ‘mhm’ as we kiss, hoping he keeps moving up at my approval. He takes the hint and rubs his middle finger along my slit, feeling the dampness there. I gasp and pull away, surprised at the way it makes me feel. No matter how many times I’ve done the same thing to myself it never felt this good. Every part of me feels like it’s on fire. I feel like all of my limbs have electricity coursing through them.

“So wet already.” He groans, pulling his lips from mine. “This all for me?”

“Yes, Spence!” I gasp as his thumb finds my clit. My hand flies out to grip his shoulder.

“You alright, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Please, don’t stop!” I sigh, holding his arm like my life depends on it. Like if I let go, all of it would disappear like a dream. He pushes his thumb harshly into my clit through my underwear, rubbing slow circles. I tilt my head back against the pillow, biting my lips to hide my embarrassingly loud moans.

“Can I take these off?”

“Yes, god yes.” I huff, opening my eyes as I watch him pull my underwear down my legs, never looking away from my eyes. I hold my breath as I wait to see his reaction to my bare body. He stares for a few moments and I can see his breath hitch.

“Fuck.” He breathes. He looks back up and meets my gaze. I reach out and push my hands under his shirt.

“Your turn.” I mumble. He wastes no time in ripping his shirt from off his body. This time I stare, admiring his lean body. There’s some muscle adorning his torso from years of field work. I let my hand roam along his stomach. His breathing is heavy as he watches my hand go down to his belt. I tug on the buckle and look at him with puppy dog eyes. “Please.” He pulls the buckle from the hole in his belt and tears the whole thing out of the loops on his jeans. He unzips them and pulls them off with his boxers, throwing them down to the floor. I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from his hard length. Staring at the size of it, watching a small bead of precum leak from his head.

“Hey.” He whispers, pulling me from my trance. “You okay?”

“I will be if you hurry up and fuck me.” I sigh. He chuckles and smirks.

“Needy are we?”

“You have no idea.” I groan. He chuckles again before reaching over to his bedside table and pulling a condom from the drawer. He rips it open with his teeth and I can practically feel myself get impossibly wetter. I watch him roll it over himself before he looks back up at me.

“You sure?”

“Yes! Please, Spence!” He runs the tip of his cock through my folds, collecting all my arousal. He softly pushes himself in and I can’t help but whimper at the stretch. “Jesus, fuck.” He pushes in a little more before pausing and waiting for me to adjust properly. My pussy practically sucks him in as he pushes further before bottoming out. “Shit.” I whine. “So fucking deep.” My knuckles turn white as I grip the sheets.

“You alright?”

“Yes, move, please.” I beg. “Need it.” I look at him and his blown out pupils. He moves slowly, pulling and pushing his hips against my own. I whimper loudly, covering my mouth with my hand. He quickly reaches up and pulls it away.

“Wanna hear you.” He grunts. “Sound so pretty.” He gives a harder thrust, making me cry out. “There you go, pretty girl.” He growls. He lets his head fall into the crook of his neck, grunting and moaning softly in my ear.

“Feel s’good, Spence.” I babble, already a complete mess for him. His thrusts have sped up, driving into me deeper. He pulls my legs up and folds them into me, my skirt bunching up at my waist. “Fuck!” I scream, his cock pushing into me even deeper, hitting that special spot inside me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I can hear the squelching of my pussy around his cock.

“So fucking good.” He groans in my ear. “So fucking good to me.” He bites my neck to hold back a loud growl. I dig my hand into his hair, pulling it slightly. He reaches a hand down to rub my clit.

“Shit!” I yell. “Fuck! Gonna cum too fast!” I warn, trying to push his hand away.

“Cum for me sweetheart, I wanna feel it.” I moan at his words, feeling a familiar coil in my belly.

“Spence! Stop, feels weird!” I whine, feeling like I’m gonna pee everywhere. I knew what was going to happen, even though it’s never happened to me personally. I really didn’t want to mess up his sheets, but he really didn’t seem to care.

“Come on baby, give it to me.” He rubs my clit faster and the coil in my belly snaps. I scream as wetness spills from me, coating my thighs and his sheets. “That’s it.” He groans, his thrusts getting sloppy. “So fucking perfect, shit.” He thrusts a few more times before spilling inside the condom. I can feel his cock twitch inside me. I stroke his hair as he tries to catch his breath. I whimper a little before speaking.

“We need to do that again.” He laughs into my neck, kissing it softly.

“That can be arranged.” I smile.

[mochinomnoms]

Imagine asking the jade and/or floyd to go swimming. Or while they are swimming you just join them. Now the eel twins keep imagining a future with you cause apparently moray eels do synchronized swimming with their mates. Just to add to the chaos you will probably be non the wiser to the deeper meaning of their careless actions.

I think it's especially funny if one twin is doing the "dance" with you while the other is on the other side of the water, watching with a knowing look.

The real question is how do they proceed to bully their brother over it?

Floyd

The obvious option for Floyd is to have him be very blunt and loud in his teasing, but I offer a different idea. You have no clue what the significance of the dance is, for all you know it's just Jade playing around! And Floyd just wants to play!

"You don't mind if I dance with them too, right Jaaaade?"

Floyd doesn't even wait for him to answer as he swipes your hand and spins you around him in the water. It's quite fun, but if you pay attention, Floyd is still keeping a rather wide berth of room between you two. Compared to Jade, who was twirling with you held close to him, it's practically conservative! Fortunately for him, he's good at hiding his frustration, so you can't really tell he's bothered until Floyd gets just a bit too close. This makes Jade quickly and smoothly snatches you back into his arms and far away from his annoying brother. >:(

Jade

Jade is just a bit meaner than his brother, as he's more than happy to make little comments about Floyd as he dances with you. He just lives to prod at Floyd just to see how long it takes for him to either throw hands or decide he's now bored because Jade wouldn't stop bothering him.

"Oya, getting rather touchy aren't we Floyd? Should I be informing mother about a new addition to the family?"

Floyd nonstop smacks with the tip of his tail do nothing to deter him as Jade follows you two, still making pointed remarks. First, he mentions if his brother would prefer privacy. Then he asks you if you ever had a chance to learn more about mer culture. You're confused as to why Jade is mentioning courting practices, but have no chance to ask him what he's talking about before Floyd is throwing himself at Jade and beating his ass.

[klausysworld]

Can you do a story where reader has been bullied her whole life from Caroline and she’s always been the second choice, since klaus came into town she’s always had a crush on him and he knew about it , when the ball came around and klaus took Caroline instead of yn she was really upset and Caroline could see that and humiliates her infront of everyone including klaus and klaus goes after her and comforts her you can choose what happens after thank you sm!!

I Could Never Compete

Caroline had always made a point of being better than me.

Whether it was turning my friends against me, taking cheer captain from me or stealing Tyler, my boyfriend from me. The worst part wasn't even that she did those things but that she did them just so she could publicly make fun of me for them.

"I mean, what are you even gonna do during the summer? It's not like she have any friends left." She'd make sure to say loud enough for Elena and Bonnie to hear, making them stare right at me. She told Elena that I tried to make-out with Matt whilst they were together and she told Bonnie that I was making fun of her for being abandoned by her mother. Neither were true, at all but I couldn't exactly prove it and Caroline only had to tell the lie to a few other people before everyone was believing it.

"Please, you've let yourself go. That's why you can't be captain anymore, just look at yourself. The whole squad knows it." She'd tell me in front of all the girls on the team and trying out for the team. It made me angry because I knew I was actually better than her in this but she made everyone think I was useless. I had been training years more than her, a hundred times harder. My diet was to make sure I could compete in cheer and dance, ballet specifically which she also had to get into and when we were little she pushed me over so my ankle was hurt and she could do swan lake instead of me.

"You didn't really think that someone could love you? Even like you when I'm in the picture? Tyler's stupid but he's not that thick. He has eyes and he has a dick and he knows what's better for both. I bet he didn't even want to touch you, you ugly pig." She spat. We were at a party and Tyler had tried to apologise to me but she cut in. Everyone went silent and watched as my face went red and my eyes blurred with tears. It was Stefan that lead me away, it was at his house after all. But I think he was the first person to imply that he didn't believe all of the things said about me and he told me that Elena had questioned the rumours to him. I should have been relieved that someone believed me but the effects had already happened and the truth probably wouldn't make my life any easier at that point so I just thanked him and went home.

I don't really know why I thought Klaus would be different, maybe because she already had Tyler and that should've been enough? Of course not.

But I didn't expect it from Klaus. He's over a thousand and surely much more mature than a teenage boy tempted by another girl. It hurt me when Tyler cheated, obviously it did, however I could make sense of that. I couldn't make sense of what Caroline could have said or done to make Klaus switch up so easily.

Especially with how he'd been.

I hadn't really loved Tyler but I think that I had actually fallen for Klaus. It wasn't just the drawings and the priceless gifts, but it was the way he looked at me and the softness he spoke with that he never seemed to use with anyone else. His touch was always just right, even when he was getting rough he was never forceful like Tyler got. He still knew not to grab too harsh or push too hard. There was something natural about being with him which made everything seem so effortless.

I guess I noticed him being a little different when his family was undaggered and awake but that was expected with the amount of stress he was under. Still, he had mentioned me meeting his mother and even told me about the ball.

There was no reason I wouldn't have gone.

I didn't have as much money as Caroline and Elena and Bonnie with their lovely big houses and hundreds of outfits. I wasn't struggling as bad as Matt anymore but I wasn't exactly stable either.

Which meant that getting a dress to be able to go to the ball and feel comfortable was really difficult for me but I made sure I did it so that I wouldn't embarrass him or myself in front of his family. I made sure not to eat the day before and the day of so that there was zero chance of bloating and I spent hours making sure I was ready before paying a taxi to take me.

I think I probably should have known something wasn't quite right when Klaus didn't even offer me a dress. Not in an entitled way but just because it was unusual for him not to. He told me he enjoyed knowing he had provided those nice things for me and that he liked knowing he was the reason for the smile on my face.

Again, the entire situation was so huge for him that I didn't expect things like that.

But I also didn't expect to walk in through those double doors and see his hand cupping her face and her gloved hands in his chest.

I could feel the lump in my throat forming, my heart racing and the humiliation already hitting.

Caroline turned her head, the loose pieces of curled hair swaying beautifully beside her face as she looked right at me, cruel smile on her lips and sadistic glint in her eyes. Klaus was still looking at her, probably admiring how the blue of the dress complimented her hair and eyes.

It was in that moment that everything she had ever called me felt real. I felt ugly, I felt cheap, I felt fat. I wanted my skin to peel off and reveal a completely different person, someone who could actually compete with Caroline's beauty.

I took a step back, ready to retreat home but I bumped into someone with a tray of champagne making the glass smash everywhere. I felt a piece dig into my ankle and it prompted a tear that was already waiting in my eye to finally cascade down my face.

When I glanced back up Klaus was hurrying toward me, his eyes holding that softness as both his hands went to my shoulders. I caught feel my breathe catching in my throat, barely escaping my chest as he tried to say something.

Caroline's hand was on his arm, pulling his hand away from me as she let out an amused scoff. "God. You literally can't get any more pathetic Y/N." She told me, her eyes scanning me over making her raise an unimpressed brow. "Ew." She stated simply. "Could have at least made an effort, no wonder he wants me-"

"Don't listen to a word out of her. Come on, love, we'll go upstairs and-" He tried to cut in but Caroline wasn't having it.

"Don't hush me. You invited me here. You gave me everything I'm wearing and you practically promised to help me take it off later." Caroline spat and I couldn't stop the cry that bubbled from my mouth. It physically hurt.

"Y/N!" I heard him yell but I wasn't there, I was outside, my heels in my hands as I went barefoot whilst running down the concrete. My breathing was fast and I refused to look back but that didn't stop him from appearing in front of me, his arms holding my against his chest as I tried to shove him off. "Please, love, please." He whispered, his tight firm so I couldn't move making me relent and just cry in his hold instead. My legs went and he was knelt on the cold floor, holding my up so the soles of my feet weren't still pressed against the tiny stones and chunks of dirt.

"Why would you bring her and not me?" I sobbed into his chest and his hands gripped me firmly.

"My mother had me invite her...I didn't imply it being anything other than platonic-"

"You gave her a dress and you held her face. You want her!" I yelled at him but he just wouldn't admit it.

"We're going to your house and I'm going to fix this, love." He told me, standing up and adjusting his hold on me before we were inside my house a second or two later.

He put me down and I was heading up stairs immediately but he was pulling me back and pleading me to sit down.

"I want out of this stupid dress, Klaus. I want it off, I want to burn it." I sniffed, my hand messily wiping the tear from my face.

"It's a beautiful dress." He whispered, his hands holding my waist so I couldn't leave. I looked up at him, his eyes as sad as mine as he leaned down to kiss my cheek and the corner of my mouth. "I shouldn't have invited her, I should have told my mother no. I should have sent you a dress and I should have picked you up myself. I'm sorry, I promise you that I'm sorry." He uttered, his hands sliding up to my face.

"I don't care that you didn't spend your stupid money on me." I whimpered and he looked down for a second.

"I know...I know, but I was going to and I didn't. I know it wouldn't have been easy for you to-"

"I handled it just fine. I got a dress and I got there, all you had to do was be there for me and you weren't, you were there with and for her."

"I wasn't. I don't want her, I don't ever even talk to her. I love you, you have to know that." His head was shaking as he spoke and his eyes were flickering between blue and gold.

"I can't compete with Caroline, Klaus, you know that." I whispered and his hand rested on the back of my head, pulling me close so our foreheads were touching.

"There is no competition. There never was and there never will be. You're mine, and I'm yours. We're gonna go upstairs and lay down and we'll stay there until you feel better, okay?" He murmured, pulling me along with him making me stumble at the reminder of the splinters in my skin and the glass by my ankle. "Fuck. Okay, c'mere." He mumbled, picking me back up and taking me up the stairs and putting me down on the bed.

"Laying here isn't going to make anything better, Klaus." I sighed, trying to ignore the pain as he grabbed the tweezers from my drawer and cleaned me up.

"Then we'll go somewhere, we'll go to Europe and I'll take you to France and Greece and Spain- Italy!" He listed, clearly getting more and more stressed as he bit his hand and let the blood drip into a glass of water, his finger swirled it round before he was urging me to drink it, holding my legs in his hands to watch the wounds disappear.

"I don't care about those places, I just cared about you." I sniffled and he frowned, laying down beside me and pulling me onto him.

"You still care about me now. I know you do and some stupid girl isn't ruining that. I don't love often but I love you and you're not going anywhere." He stated, no room for argument as his tone got colder.

His eyes resoftened when he looked back at me and he just wouldn't let go of me until I told him it was okay.

I wondered if it had been any other girl, if I would have felt as bad as I did now. Was there something wrong with me? Or was Caroline just that perfect?

[sanjisleggy]

to deserve perfection (red-haired shanks x fem!reader)

req: Could you do a Shanks x reader (fem or gn) hurt comfort where Shanks gets really insecure about having only one arm. Maybe like during a fight they fall and another crew member catches you or like during a party or something she dances with one of their crewmates and Shanks gets sad and insecure he can't fold her like that

a/n: my first request YIPPEE :D tysm for requesting anon it means a lot :��D also i’m not super familiar with Shanks’ crew so i’m basing my knowledge of them and the general crew dynamics on OPLA and other fics i’ve read :3c

contents: fem!reader, unexplicit mentions of chronic pain and drowning, insecurity, angst to fluff, hurt/reverse comfort

wc. 2.3k

i.

Shanks is often of the opinion that if any one person in the world is deserving of nothing less than perfection, it would have to be you.

you, the beloved botanist and assistant doctor of the Red Hair Pirates.

you, one of the few people he’s ever known to able to balance logic and empathy flawlessly. it’s a skill he finds quite lacking in the world in general, which makes your presence in the crew all the more valued.

you, the one he watched grow from timid young girl to confident woman just as he, himself, grew from a playful young boy to a man worthy of your seemingly endless love—or at least he hopes.

Shanks has never thought of himself as a perfect man—far from it actually. but now, only a little over a year since he lost his arm saving Luffy, he feels the most imperfect he’s ever felt.

ii.

he fears he’s a burden.

but Shanks keeps his worries to himself, opting to simply smile softly in gratitude whenever your eyes flicker over his face as your hands gently rub the special ointment over his stump. he didn’t even ask for your help tonight, as usual you simply read him like a book and ushered him over to your bed, bottle of the homemade remedy at the ready.

as much as he feels unworthy of your time and effort, he can’t help the light fluttering feeling in his chest, especially when your fingers travel up past his shoulder blade toward the back of his neck. you play with the ends of his hair before pulling him down to close the gap between your mouths.

“feeling better?” you ask after pulling away. you can’t help but chuckle when his lips chase after yours for a moment before opting to simply pout pitifully when you stop him by pressing your fingers to his bottom lip.

”i always feel better with you.” Shanks doesn’t quite answer the question but you accept it anyway. you trust he’d tell you the truth if your medicine truly stopped being effective; just as you trust him to lean on you in times of need, whether it be physical or emotional.

you’ll learn in the near future, however, that trust of such a nature can be easily shattered even from the purest of intentions.

iii.

the longing look in his captain’s eyes as he watches you dance with the locals is not lost on Shanks’ first mate. while the rest of the crewmates cheer and clap, all now inebriated to a certain degree as always, Benn Beckman walks over and takes a seat beside him as inconspicuously as possible.

”y’know you still have your legs, right?” the ever-easygoing captain can’t help but laugh out loud in response.

”straight to the point, huh?” he replies before taking another gulp of beer.

”i’ve known you both long enough to know she’d love to dance with you.”

“i know.”

i just don’t want to embarrass her.

the conversation dies for a few minutes as the two men sip at their drinks, eyes glued to the festivities taking place under the starry night sky. the massive bonfire illuminates your face in a way that accentuates your wide, carefree smile and your crescent-shaped eyes. 

Shanks watches as you clumsily imitate the traditional dance moves, cheered on and encouraged by men, women and children alike as they take turns holding your hands and spinning you around. Even though a relaxed smile is plastered on his face, he can’t help but feel a soreness grow in his chest at the sight of you being twirled and dipped by the handsome male warriors of the village.

”are you sure we won’t get caught?” you whispered, though your willingness to follow and excited smile stretching across your face screamed that you didn’t care about getting caught at all.

”of course we won’t, just be quiet.” Shanks carefully pushed open the door leading to the front deck.

when the coast seemed clear enough he led you over to the centre of the deck of Roger’s ship before dramatically bowing and offering his hand.

”may i have this dance, milady?” you could only let out a muffled laugh as you placed your hand in his, a silent acceptance. he wrapped his other arm around your middle and started to sway to an imaginary tune.

neither of you knew how to actually dance, especially not like how the rich folk do in their fancy ballrooms. but earlier that day he’d asked what you wanted for your birthday and you said the first thing on your mind: to dance with him under the stars.

thus he made your dream come true, even if it did end with sore toes and sweaty skin.

“it’s not like you to just sit back and watch.” Beckman breaks the silence between them, yanking Shanks out of his memories. the first mate gestures to what essentially looks like a queue of men and women waiting their turn to dance with you. a bitterness emerges in the back of his throat at the sight.

both of the men know that on any other day, Shanks would’ve long intervened to steal you away for himself. reclaim his treasure, is how he used to describe it.

”whatever it is,” his dear friend says with a hint of resignation in his voice as he stands up. “don’t let it fester. you both share something special, don’t let it go to waste.”

iv.

you can tell he blames himself. no one else on the crew does but you also know that it doesn’t matter to Shanks, not when a mistake involves your safety.

a scuffle with the marines was not on that day’s agenda; especially not one out in the open seas while the darkened clouds overhead poured mercilessly. 

what started as an issue that could have been resolved in under and hour lasted nearly twice as long due to the unfortunate weather impairing everyone’s vision and movements. the deck was simply too slippery, the waves were too high, and the ambush was too sudden.

you struggle to remember much of what actually happened after you slipped and fell overboard. all you can really recall is clinging onto the deck’s edge for dear life, Shanks reaching out as he cried your name, your fingers slipping from his desperate grasp, and then a bone-chilling coldness overwhelming your entire being. you remember gasping for air only to ingest a mouthful of salty water. 

then, you’d woken up in the infirmary.

now you find yourself standing outside your own locked bedroom door, knuckles sore from knocking for the past hour. 

“Shanks, my love,” you plead, “let me in, won’t you? i just want to see you.” you try to keep your voice steady but it gets harder with each subsequent word. “please? don’t lock me out.”

first you nearly drowned and now the love of your life is refusing to let you into your own room? tired and confused, you blink away the hot tears pooling in your eyes as you breathe deeply and slowly in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.

after a few more minutes of waiting, your sadness twists itself into some mixture of confusion and indignant frustration. it’s not like Shanks to cut you off like this and you refuse to believe that a single incident is enough to ruin a lifetime spent by each other’s sides.

it takes five kicks to break the lock of your bedroom door and four steps to reach the bed where your beloved husband lays curled into himself. just the sight alone melts away your anger; and when he lets out a strained whine, you feel your heart sink as your body enters autopilot.

you swiftly grab a bottle of ointment from the bedside drawer before crawling on the bed towards Shanks’ back. gently, you pull the blanket off him and reach over his body to roll him into a better position. thankfully, he doesn’t resist.

”is this why you weren’t opening the door?” you ask softly as you sit him up to unbutton his shirt. “was it too sore?”

oh how easy it would be to say yes and just leave it at that and receive your unconditional, undeserved forgiveness for my selfishness.

but i can’t lie. 

not to you.

”No,” he whispers, avoiding meeting your eyes with his own. you hum in response, focused more on gently rubbing the soothing ointment over his aching stump.

”then why?” you prod, though your tone remains soft and genuine. “why didn’t you want to let me in?” you scoot closer, your chest now brushing against his right shoulder as you reach around to apply more medicine. your other hand subconsciously rubs his back.

”you must’ve known i wanted nothing more than to sleep in my own bed and cuddle my own husband after being fished out of the sea,” you add on with a laugh that Shanks doesn’t reciprocate. 

ah, gotcha.

”so this is about me falling into the ocean, hmm?” you redirect your ointment-coated hand to his chin before tilting his face over to lock your eyes onto his own. “everyone knows it was an accident.” you offer him a small smile as your hand on his back travels up to rub at his neck. “aside from the shock of it all, i’m totally fine.”

”i should’ve been able to pull you up,” Shanks finally chokes out, lunging forward to bury his face into your chest. “i shouldn’t have let you fall into the water to begin with. the waves were so rough, we could’ve easily lost you.” he wraps his arm around your waist, fingers gripping tightly onto the back of your shirt; as though you would disappear once again if he wasn’t holding on tightly enough.

”but you didn’t lose me,” you coo, feeling your own heart twist and ache as you return the hug, holding him as close to you as possible. “i’m still here. it’s okay, my love.”

”i was fucking useless,” he exhaled, shoulders beginning to tremble. “i couldn’t even be the one to dive in after you. i wouldn’t have been able to swim and pull you up at the same time.”

you feel your eyes burn with tears for the second time today as you listen to Shanks berate himself.

”i couldn’t hold onto you. i couldn’t keep you safe. i can’t even dance with you like how we used to.” for the first time in years, he was losing it and it terrifies you. 

“stop! stop saying all that!” you can’t help but raise your voice as you pry his face away from your body, no longer allowing him to hide anymore. when he finally looks at you, you see that your teary eyes are mirrored on his handsome face. although he looks up at you silently, you feel his hand tremble from how hard he’s holding onto your clothing. 

“you—” you struggle to find the words. how were you supposed to reassure the most amazing man you’ve ever met that his thoughts of self-loathing are unfounded?

”Shanks, you’re…” you feel a fresh wave of hot tears run down your face when you see how tired he looks. it’s as though these thoughts have been running in his mind for longer than you think, and it’s exhausting him. 

“you’re perfect,” you finally say as you cup his face between your hands before leaning down to brush the tip of your nose against his. “you’re so perfect. i don’t care how many limbs you have or scars you collect. i’d love you all the same until the day i die.”

“you deserve more.” Shanks can’t help but say what’s been plaguing his mind for weeks. although the relief of letting it out feels good, he can’t help the tightness in his chest when he sees you frown.

”what more could i possibly deserve, you silly man?” you let out a choked laugh, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes to wipe away his tears, old and new. “i don’t think you realise how lucky i am to have had you for so long. i’ve been loving you since we were children, for crying out loud.” you pause to breathe. “and with all the beautiful women we meet at every new island we visit, who clearly want to take my place; sometimes i feel like it’s only a matter of time before they steal you away—”

you’re cut off by Shanks capturing your lips with his own. the hand that was previously crumpling your shirt now trailing up your body before stopping at your face. you lean into the warmth of his palm whilst keeping your lips on his, saliva mixing with salty tears.

“don’t be ridiculous,” he pants the words out the moment you pull away for air. “don’t ever say such a thing.”

”now you know how i felt when you said all those awful things about yourself.” you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm, smiling when you see how his cheeks flush redder than they already are. “but you shouldn’t hide these thoughts anymore, my silly boy. you need to talk to me so i can tell you how ridiculous you’re being.” your finger pokes his chest, drawing a warm chuckle from the love of your life as he smiles for the first time since you were pulled out of the ocean depths.

“i love you,” Shanks whispers, words muffling halfway when presses his lips to your forehead mid-sentence.

”love you, too.”

[toxicanonymity]

Hello, Toxy, my darling friend! I am here to bribe you and beg for more of your talent <3 I was so positively shaken by 'Spectators' and the glimpse of lore you gave us, that I just neeeeeeeeeed to know Joel side of this beautiful taboo relationship 🥵

will you be so inclined to tell us more? maybe this gif will inspire you? *slides a battered 20$ bill and all of the change i got in my pocket across the table*

concessions

Joel Miller x f!reader, 1k @iamasaddie ... this gif 🧎‍♀️🫡 ilysm 🪺 WARNINGS: 18+ degradation kink, infidelity, manhandling, jealousy, pussy spank, object insertion, incest mentions. after spectators.

You were just about to walk away when Tommy announced, “Joel's got a second date tonight,” and a pang of jealousy stopped you in your tracks. You turned around, making your short dress twirl out almost a little too high in the breeze.

Behind the bleachers, Joel smoked a cigarette in front of a small, brick building with his feet spread, one arm crossed, hand tucked under his bicep. As you came into view, he mumbled, “here comes trouble.” He threw his cigarette at the gravel and used his boot to smother it before retreating into the concessions kitchen. He started putting a pot of popcorn on.

A group of four women in the bleachers looked down their noses at you and murmured amongst themselves. Their lives must have been so boring. Two men in front of them stared at you until one of the ladies snapped her fingers at them.

Judging eyes be damned, you proceeded confidently around back of the building and let yourself in without knocking.

Joel didn't bother taking his eyes off the stove as he greeted you with sarcasm. “Come on in, make yourself at home.”

“Hey, big boy.” You stood there looking pretty, and finally he glanced up.

“Popcorn won't be ready for a minute, but you can get in line outside,” he said as if he didn't have his cock in you hours ago.

“You know that's not what I'm here for,” you said saucily.

“Bored of terrorizing my brother?” Joel asked.

You scoffed. “That asshole wouldn't even let me sit down.”

“Bet he was nicer than he coulda been,” Joel said with a bit of a snarl, then met your eyes and ranted, “Who do you think you are, showin’ up here tryin’ to give him a goddamn lap dance in front of Maria's friends? In front of his kid, for chrissake.”

“Public game last I checked,” you said.

Disgust tinged Joel's voice. “You get some kinda sick pleasure outta bein’ a homewrecker?”

“Not my fault he can't keep his dick in his pants,” you pointed out.

“No, but it's your fault everybody gotta know about it” Joel snapped.

“You think everybody knows about it?” you asked.

“Anybody with two eyes and two ears,” Joel said.

“Mm” You replied as though in thought. “They don't *really* know, though.”

“They know enough.”

“They know y'all like coatin’ your cocks in each other's cum? Eatin’ each other outta me? You think they know that?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Joel snapped. He abandoned the stove as he got in your face, neck vein throbbing.

Turned on by his anger, you hooked your hands into his belt and dropped to your knees.

He hesitated for a moment, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring with each rise of his chest.

“Ain't doin’ this,” he grabbed both your wrists and shoved them backwards, making you lose your balance and fall to the side.

“What's wrong? Afraid ya can't cum without your little brother's cock smashed against yours?”

“Get up. Get up now.” He grabbed you by your arm, and manhandled you to your feet.

“Just pretend I'm your sister,” You taunted.

He opened his mouth wide and over-enunciated, “Go… home.”

“You know… I dunno who you think YOU are. Couple hours ago you were balls deep in my pussy talking ‘bout the two of you splitting me open tonight. Now you want me to disappear.”

He shifted his weight onto one foot and rested his hands on his hips. “Ain't happenin’ tonight." It sounded more decisive than degrading. As if he did have a date.

And for a moment, pity flickered across his face before he hardened his gaze again.

“Shouldn't make a promise ya can't keep, brother,” you said. “Our mama raised you better than that.”

“God damnit, get off the floor.” He manhandled you to your feet and eyed the bin of empty beer bottles in arm's reach.

He turned you around and shoved you against the counter so you were both facing the sink.

He held you by the back of the neck. “Always runnin’ that whore mouth…”

You spread your feet and tilted your hips for his access, and he announced, “There she is. Jackson's most used hole. Ain't even gotta lift your dress to see it.”

He gave your pussy a spank, and the sting of his fingers between your legs felt like such a relief.

He grabbed a bottle and warned, “If you don't smarten up, next time it's gonna be two of these.” He pressed the lip of the bottle against your cunt then wiggled it into your entrance.

Once the first inch was in, he slid the rest of the bottle neck into you with a twist, making you gasp when the body of the bottle pushed at your entrance. Joel's cum from earlier began to drip into the glass.

“Savin’ that for Tommy?” you asked.

“God damnit.” Joel sighed and slipped the bottle out of you, wrapped a rag around the neck, and turned it upside down. He held by the neck and used his other hand to spread your swollen pussy lips. You were dripping arousal and cum. Bottom-first, he wedged the bottle into you with help from his fingers. When your walls were stretched around the glass circle, he pushed with a grunt, making you whimper with the pressure.

“You don't act right, we’ll find out if you can take two of these. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” you agreed, butterflies in your chest. As if he’d pass up a chance to share a cunt with Tommy.

“Tommy sure as hell won't fuck ya later. Not after that display out there…” He pushed the bottle a little further. “And if I'm gonna bother, gotta know you're tight enough for me to feel somethin’.”

“Felt it earlier didn't you?” You asked.

“Yeah, then I wrecked ya. And if this bottle falls out, I know she's still wrecked.”

He pushed the bottle further into you until your cunt had swallowed the whole fat part of the bottle, and only half the neck was sticking out. It was a remarkable fullness.

“You better pray this dress is long enough, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Though I reckon you'd get off on it, huh? Get off on the whole town seein’ ya walk around with a bottle hangin’ outta your cunt?” He pushed just a little further, and the curved glass of the bottom was flush against your cervix.

“Ow.”

He chuckled darkly, left it there, and stepped back to admire his work. Hands on his hips, he watched you stand upright and tug down your dress–God, it was obscenely short.

“Joel?” A woman’s voice called from outside.

The popcorn was burning.

“Go on,” he nodded toward the door. Get.” He subtly turned his attention toward the stove, and turned the burner off.

With a few slow steps, your cheeks burned at the sensation that your body wanted to push the foreign object out of you, birth it right onto the ground.

“Joel?” the voice was closer

You tried to tighten your muscles to keep the bottle in place, but it was slipping.

You reached down to feel almost the whole neck was out, and the thought of people seeing it under your short dress made your cunt spasm and gush, sending the bottle onto the concrete just as the door opened.

“There you are–Oh!” the woman said as the bottle shattered into a few pieces onto the cement floor.

Face on fire, you looked at the bottle, then glanced at Joel. His eyes met yours with a half smile and he said, “I got it.”

You looked the woman up and down and thought about telling her to enjoy your sloppy seconds, but you left her with an amused half smile. The same one Joel was wearing.

-

-

-

double play

Ty for reading 🖤

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage

— Synopsis: Where you and Minghao parents had this grand scheme to merge their companies by marrying you off, thinking it'd be a brilliant business move. Determined to stake your claim and keep your marriage intact, your make a bold move during a business party—planting a lipstick-stained kiss on Minghao's lips and yanking him by his tie, leaving no doubt that he's yours and yours alone. — WC: 5.5k — WARNINGS: Smut, throat fucking, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex, public make out, jealous kiss, angst, forced marriage, mentions of diets.

You're standing there in this fancy white dress, all sparkly and shiny, making your way down the aisle to where Minghao's waiting. He's looking all sharp in his suit, with his hair on point and a little smirk on his face. But as you're walking towards him, you can't help but remember the last time you two really talked was at some boring company event.

Now here you are, about to say your vows like you actually mean them. But deep down, you know it's all just a bunch of lies. You and Minghao both know it. It's all for show, to make your parents' company look good. And the worst part is, everyone at this big fancy wedding knows it too.

The party's huge, like a wedding and a business conference all mashed together. People you've never seen before are milling around, probably part of some shady business deal your parents cooked up. It's like this whole thing isn't even about love or unity anymore. It's just one big networking event disguised as a wedding.

But you go through the motions anyway, smiling and nodding like everything's perfect. You exchange vows that are as fake as the smiles plastered on both of your faces. And as the night goes on, you can't shake the feeling that this whole thing is just a sham. A pretty, expensive sham, but a sham nonetheless.

You watch as people schmooze and mingle, making deals and connections left and right. And you can't help but wonder if this is what your future holds too. A life of pretending, of smiling for the cameras while behind closed doors, it's all just business as usual.

But for now, you paste on your best fake smile and dance the night away, pretending that everything's okay. Because that's what you do when you're part of a family like yours. You put on a show, no matter what's really going on behind the scenes.

You're feeling suffocated by the crowd inside, like the tightness around your waist is almost causing claustrophobia. So you slip away to the backyard, sneaking a slice of cake from the waiters. Your mom had you on some ridiculous diet for a whole week leading up to this wedding, all so you could look "good" in your dress.

You plop down on a wooden bench, the dress spreading out in a big poof around you. Just as you're about to take a much-needed bite of cake, you're interrupted by a voice.

"Why isn't the bride inside enjoying her own party?" The voice belongs to Minghao, hands in his pockets as he stands there, looking at you.

You scoff, shooting him a look. "I'm sure no one's noticed. They're all too busy discussing the stock market or whatever." Your tone is sharp, the underlying tension between you and Minghao palpable.

Minghao snorts, clearly not impressed by your response. "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent less time worrying about your parents' company and more time actually enjoying life, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of anger rising within you. "Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Last time I checked, you were just as tangled up in all of this as I am."

Minghao's expression darkens, and for a moment, you worry you've gone too far. 

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-eaten slice of wedding cake. You watch him go, feeling a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite name. Maybe it's just the champagne talking, but for a brief moment, you can't help but wonder what life would be like if you weren't tied down by expectations and obligations. 

You stare at Minghao, disbelief written all over your face as you take in the sight of the one hotel room your parents booked for the both of you. A single queen-sized bed sits in the center of the room, effectively splitting the space into two halves. You shoot a glance at Minghao, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell he's just as shocked as you are.

The tension between you is palpable as you both stand there, sharing silent but deadly gazes. Finally, you break the silence, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Our parents booking us one room to 'get used' to each other. As if this whole shit wasn't enough already."

Minghao lets out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because nothing says 'happily ever after' like forcing two strangers to share a bed on their wedding night."

You bite back a retort, opting instead for a more diplomatic approach. "Look, I think it's only fair that I take the bed and you can sleep on the couch."

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And why is that?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation bubbling up inside you. "Because I'm the bride, for one," you retort, "and two, I've been on my feet all night, walking around in a dress that weighs a ton and heels that could rival skyscrapers. I think I deserve a decent night's sleep."

Minghao lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, please. Do you even know how exhausting it is to be the groom? I've been dealing with people all night, pretending to be someone I'm not, just like you."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms defiantly. "Fine," you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, "then let's settle this once and for all. Who's more tired: the bride who's been carrying around twelve kilograms of dress and heels all night, or the groom who's been putting on a show for hours on end?"

Minghao looks at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's trying not to smile. But then he shakes his head, a look of resignation crossing his face. "You win," he says, finally relenting, "you can have the bed."

You smirk triumphantly, feeling a small sense of victory despite the absurdity of the situation. And as you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

The next day rolls around, and before you even have a chance to properly wake up, you're thrown into a meeting. Brunch with both families sounds nice in theory, but when Minghao's dad starts putting papers on the table and declaring, "Let's get to what matters," you realize this isn't going to be a typical family gathering.

You try to maintain a facade of composure, but the discomfort gnaws at you like a persistent itch. So you do what you've gotten used to doing – you look down, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Minghao notices immediately, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. His cheeks flush with embarrassment from his father's directness, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet his eyes. The weight of expectation hangs heavy in the air, and you can practically taste the tension swirling around the table.

As Minghao's dad starts talking about business deals and partnerships, you try to focus on the sound of his voice rather than the sinking feeling in your stomach. But no matter how hard you try to block it out, you can't shake the feeling that you're just a pawn in someone else's game – a game you never asked to play.

You steal a glance at Minghao, but his expression is unreadable, his mask firmly in place. And in that moment, you realize just how alone you really are in this world of high-stakes deals and empty promises.

You're lounging on the couch, the TV blaring in the background, but your mind is miles away. The penthouse feels emptier than ever, despite being filled with all the trappings of luxury. You and Minghao live under the same roof, yet it feels like you might as well be living on opposite ends of the earth. Separate rooms, separate lives, with only a perfunctory "good morning" or "good night" exchanged between you.

The loneliness weighs heavy on your chest, suffocating you with its presence. You long for something more, something real, but it feels like an impossible dream in this gilded cage you've found yourself trapped in.

You're lost in the numbing glow of the television when your phone buzzes with a notification. It's Minghao, informing you of a press conference he's scheduled for later that night. You furrow your brow, puzzled by the sudden announcement.

But it's his last message from the previous night that catches your attention. "Can you at least put on your best smile tonight?" he'd asked, a request that feels more like a demand. And you can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his presumption.

You make your way to his room, finding him hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watch him for a moment before speaking up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Put on my best smile? What's that supposed to mean?"

Minghao looks up from his computer, his expression unreadable. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he replies coolly, his tone clipped. "We both know how important appearances are in our world. So why not make an effort for once?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you. "I think you mean that you want me to play the dutiful wife once again, to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything's fine," you snap, the bitterness seeping into your words.

Minghao's jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to argue back. But then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly tired and defeated. "Look, I know this isn't what either of us wanted," he says, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "But it's what we have to do. For our families, for the company."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is that really all that matters to you? The company? "But fine," you say through clenched teeth, pushing yourself away from the doorframe. "I'll put on my best smile tonight. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

You sit in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car, your gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. The skyscrapers blur into a haze of steel and glass, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside your mind.

Minghao breaks the silence with a casual remark, his tone tinged with amusement. "You don't look like someone who agreed to the terms of our agreement," he observes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You let out a frustrated huff, tearing your eyes away from the window to glare at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I need some time before I can fully commit to this whole acting profession," you retort, your words dripping with bitterness.

Minghao presses his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at your expense. The corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he looks away, pretending to be absorbed in the passing scenery.

You bristle at his reaction, feeling a surge of indignation coursing through you. "What's so funny?" you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.

Minghao shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he replies casually, his tone disarmingly nonchalant. "I mean, take all the time you need… Just try not to look too pitiful when we walk through those doors." 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the chauffeur stops and opens the door for you, signaling your arrival at the event, Minghao's voice cuts through the silence.

"Hand," he says simply, holding out his hand towards you.

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. "Excuse me?" you reply, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk as he repeats himself, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I said, hand," he repeats, his tone playful yet insistent.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his audacity, but begrudgingly, you reach out and grab his hand, almost aggressively. His grin widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the touch surprisingly delicate despite the underlying tension between you.

As you and Minghao step into the event, hand in hand, you can feel the weight of your parents' surprised stares on you. Their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the sight of you two holding hands, a rare display of unity between the two families.

Minghao squeezes your hand gently, a small smirk playing on his lips as he catches your parents' reaction. "See?" he murmurs softly, leaning in close to you. "It's easy. A little thing like this makes them happy."

You can't help but feel a surge of resentment bubbling up inside you at his words. Easy for him to say, you think bitterly. He's always been the one who effortlessly falls into line, who knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants.

But despite your inner turmoil, you force a tight smile and nod in agreement, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your parents. "Yeah, easy," you echo, your voice strained as you try to keep up the facade.

As the long-winded speeches from the ambassadors drone on, you find yourself sinking deeper into your chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. Minghao leans in close, his voice a soft whisper against your ear as he asks if you want something from the bar. You shake your head, declining his offer with a tired sigh.

He nods in understanding and excuses himself, disappearing into the crowd for a moment. But as the minutes drag on and the speech finally reaches its conclusion, Minghao still hasn't returned. Your eyes scan the room, searching for any sign of him, and that's when you spot her – a woman leaning in close to him, her body language oozing with flirtation.

Your stomach churns with a mix of anger and disbelief. What does she think she's doing? That's your husband she's flirting with, for crying out loud. You glance down at your wedding ring, then back at Minghao, then down at your ring again, the weight of it heavy on your finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stand up from the table, your movements cautious as you make your way over to them. Fuck, you hate that you're doing this right now, but you can't just sit idly by while some random woman tries to make a move on your husband.

Minghao's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of your determined gaze, and for a brief moment, you almost feel guilty for interrupting. But then you remember who you are – his wife – and the guilt fades away, replaced by a steely resolve.

"I have a wife," Minghao's voice cuts through the air, firm and unwavering, as you approach him and the woman who's been flirting with him. His words send a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily halting your steps.

But before you can even react, Minghao continues, his tone tinged with irritation, "And she's storming over here, so please, just leave me alone."

"Hi, Hao," you greet Minghao as you finally reach him, unable to hide the hint of irritation in your voice. "You took a long time. What happened?"

Minghao's eyes widen slightly at your abrupt approach, and he stammers for a moment before the woman beside him interjects, "Oh, she's your friend?"

Minghao's response is immediate and almost defensive. "No, I don't know her," he says quickly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

You can't help but suppress a smirk at his awkwardness, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at seeing him squirm. "Nice to meet you," you say smoothly, extending your hand to the woman. "I'm Mrs. Xu."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise as she takes your hand, clearly caught off guard by your assertive introduction. "Oh, um, nice to meet you too," she replies, her voice slightly shaky.

You turn your attention back to Minghao, noting the relief in his eyes as you come to his "rescue." Poor Minghao, you think to yourself, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him despite your earlier annoyance. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, and the sight of you coming to his aid seems to help him breathe a little easier.

The woman walks away, leaving you and Minghao standing there in the aftermath of the awkward encounter. You turn to him, your expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Come on, Minghao," you begin, your voice low but firm. "You need to know how to handle situations like that. What if people who know our family saw that? It could cause all sorts of rumors and complications."

Minghao's jaw tightens as he meets your gaze, a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. "I didn't ask for her to approach me," he retorts, his tone defensive. "I told her I have a wife. What more do you want from me?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your temper in check. "I just want you to be more aware of how your actions reflect on both of us," you reply, your voice tinged with exasperation. "We're married, Minghao. That means we have to think about each other's reputations and how our behavior affects them."

Minghao's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a stubborn set to his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know that," he says, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "But sometimes things happen, and I can't control them."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of frustration rising within you. "That's not an excuse, Minghao," you say firmly. "We both have to do better if we want this marriage to work. We have to be a team."

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk of his own, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he steps closer to you. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Xu?" he replies, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "And what exactly would it take for me to earn back the privilege of being called by my first name?"

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his cheekiness. "Maybe if you stopped getting yourself into awkward situations with random women at parties," you shoot back, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful jab.

Minghao feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Hey now, that wasn't entirely my fault," he protests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, you were the one who came to my rescue, remember?"

Minghao's playful grin falters as you shoot him a pointed look, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Am I wrong now? What should I do then?" you challenge, your tone laced with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression sheepish as he searches for an answer. "You need to make them know I'm your husband," he suggests vaguely, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

You narrow your gaze, a surge of determination coursing through you as you follow his line of sight to the woman who had been eyeing him earlier. She's still watching him, her gaze lingering a little too long for your liking.

"Fine then," you declare, your jaw set in determination. Without another word, you reach out and grab Minghao by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Before he can protest, you press your lips to his in a firm, possessive kiss.

For a moment, Minghao freezes, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But then, as if realizing what's happening, he responds eagerly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as the kiss deepens.

You trail kisses along his neck, feeling a low hum of satisfaction reverberate through him. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as you continue to explore the sensitive skin of his neck with your lips.

When you pull back slightly, his eyes meet yours, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. You reach up and gently tug on his bottom lip, a silent invitation for him to surrender completely to the passion between you.

Minghao's lips part in response, his eyes darkening with desire as he leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both.

As you finally break the kiss, your lips swollen and tingling with the taste of him, you look at his face, satisfied with your handiwork. His lips, jaw, and neck are adorned with smudges of your red lipstick, a visible testament that being arranged or not, he is your husband.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reach out and grab Minghao by the tie, tugging him gently but firmly in the direction of the exit. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but he follows your lead without hesitation.

As you walk through the party, you make no effort to hide the fact that you're leading Minghao out by his tie. You want everyone to see, especially that woman who dared to flirt with him earlier. With each step, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you're marking your territory, making it abundantly clear to anyone watching that Minghao belongs to you.

People turn to look as you pass by, their curious glances met with a confident smile from you and a sheepish grin from Minghao. You hold your head high, your grip on his tie unwavering as you guide him through the crowd.

Finally, you reach the exit, and with one last glance around the room, you pull Minghao outside, the cool night air washing over you both. Alone at last, you turn to him with a victorious smirk.

"Well, that was fun," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you release his tie. "But I think we've made our point. Shall we get out of here?"

Minghao chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he takes your hand in his. "Absolutely," he replies, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "Anywhere you want to go, Mrs. Xu."

As soon as you step through the door of your home, you're wrapped up in a frenzy of passionate kisses with Minghao. Clothes, shoes, and his tie fly off haphazardly as you stumble towards the nearest surface, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Between kisses, Minghao pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I didn't know you were that jealous," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hiss in response, your breath catching in your throat as his lips trail along your skin. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, your voice tinged with frustration. "I was just...rescuing you, you bastard!"

Minghao laughs at your outburst, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, just like a predator," he teases, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound confidence.

You scoff at his comment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You've seen nothing yet," you reply, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Minghao's eyes light up with excitement as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah," you confirm with a smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

But then, his hand moves to the top of your head, gently guiding you downwards until your knees find the ground. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and anticipation, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you eagerly await his next move.

With a shaky breath, Minghao pulls himself free from his pants, his cock standing proudly before you. You wrap your hand around it, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your touch. A wicked grin plays at your lips as you tap the tip of his cock against your face, biting your lip in anticipation.

Minghao lets out a shaky moan at the provocative sight before him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. "Fuck, you're so damn sexy," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You smirk up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you tease him with your lips. "Mmm, maybe," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me, Minghao."

His breath hitches as he meets your gaze, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you closer to him. "I want you more than anything," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "I need you, baby. Please, show me how much you want me too."

You eagerly lower your mouth onto Minghao's throbbing cock, sucking greedily as you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. You can feel him thrusting his hips, the need for more driving him to move against you.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, giving him the freedom to move as he pleases. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he sets the pace, his hips rocking against you in a rhythm of his own making.

As you take him deeper, you close your eyes, relaxing your jaw to accommodate his length. Minghao's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his words a gentle reminder of his concern for your well-being.

"Tap if you need to breathe," he murmurs, his hand tightening in your ponytail as he continues to move his hips.

You press your hand against his thigh in affirmation, letting him know that you're okay as you continue to take him deeper, your throat working to accommodate his length. Minghao lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips moving in tandem with your movements as you both chase the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Between thrusts, Minghao's voice fills the air with a husky whisper. "God, you feel so fucking good," he moans, his words driving you to take him even deeper. "You're amazing, baby. Just keep going, just like that."

As Minghao's cock throbs in your mouth, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Drool drips from your chin, a testament to your eagerness and arousal, as you continue to take him deeper, your mouth working tirelessly to please him.

With each throb of his cock, you can feel the tension building, the heat of his arousal radiating through you. Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in a haze of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Minghao's cock pulses in your mouth, you know that you've pushed him to the edge, his release imminent. With one final throb, he cries out your name, his body tensing as he spills his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him. You moan softly as Minghao's lips meet yours again, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he slowly guides you towards his room.

As you fall onto the bed, Minghao's fingers trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath his touch, unable to hide your arousal as he gazes down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so wet…" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

Minghao's lips curl into a smug grin as his fingers trailing lower until they reach the damp fabric of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he begins to peel them away, revealing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he whispers, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leans in close. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

You arch your back, aching for his touch as you meet his gaze with a sultry smirk. "I want your fingers inside me, Minghao" you breathe, your voice dripping with desire. "I want you to make me come so fucking hard"

Minghao's eyes darken with lust as he hears your words, his fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he plunges his slender fingers deep inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, he finds it – that deep spot that sends electric jolts shooting through you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in response, a desperate attempt to hold your orgasm.

But Minghao isn't finished yet. With a wicked grin, he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers his intentions. "You're not going to cum yet," he murmurs. "Let me hit that spot with my cock, then you can cream around it as much as you want."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, with the promise of what's going to come. With a nod of agreement, you bite your lip in anticipation, eager for the moment when Minghao will fuck you with his cock.

As Minghao positions himself above you, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of pleasure to come, you sneak a peek at his cock. It's long, with bulging veins and dripping with pre-cum, making it clear he's rock hard and ready to go. The contrast with his slender body just makes it look even bigger.

Before you can even think of a response, Minghao speaks up, his voice low and husky. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can get a word out, his cock is stretching you out, leaving you breathless and speechless as he fills you completely.

As soon as Minghao finds your g'spot, your pussy immediately tightens around him, milking him with such intensity that he has to hold himself back from coming right then and there. His pretty moans only serve to heighten your own arousal, making it even harder for you to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he tries to control himself. He hopes that you'll stop clenching, but as soon as he hits that spot again, he hisses in response, the sensation driving him wild.

Realizing that he's in danger of cumming too early, Minghao decides to focus on fucking you in just the right way, hitting that spot with precision and intensity. He squirms, desperate for you to climax first, knowing that your pleasure will only fuel his own.

With each thrust, each movement, the pleasure builds between you, reaching a fever pitch that threatens to consume you both. Minghao's hips move in a steady rhythm, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, his own pleasure mounting with each passing second.

And then, finally, it happens. You reach the peak of ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as pleasure washes over you in relentless waves. Your pussy clenches around Minghao's cock, milking him for all he's worth as he loses control, his own release crashing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a tired groan, Minghao collapses beside you, his body spent from the intensity of your shared passion. He turns to you with a lazy smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

"If I'd known all it took to get you to kiss me was making you jealous, I would've done it ages ago," he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "Imagine if you were then" he scoffs, his tone teasing. "I don't think we'd be here right now if you weren't just a little bit jealous."

You huff in mock indignation, but deep down, you know he's right.

ou nudge Minghao playfully, a smile dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for you, a little jealousy was all it took," you quip, teasing him.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you. "I guess I'll have to remember that for next time," he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, so there's going to be a next time now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Minghao grins, leaning in closer to you. "Count on it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he brushes his lips against yours.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (final part) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 9,000+

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4/5

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: I can't believe it's been like two years since I started writing this? Here is the final part of the this little mini fic. I don't even want to tell you how long I have had this sitting in my drafts. I've been so back and forth, but finally I just gave in and decided to share what I was originally working on. I got the idea to have them be wedding guests from an anon message, who wanted to see Suguru look at reader in a fancy dress / gown of some sorts. I hope you guys enjoy this final part, and thank you so much for bringing life to this little one shot! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; first time; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; penetration; lovemaking

 Flowers burst in bright pops of color around Suguru. He slips one hand in his suit pocket, the other reaching for the petal of one of the pink flowers on the bush. He caresses his thumb and index finger against the delicate skin, his mind far off to a different place and different point in time. He can hear the crowd chattering, pick up on the sporadic laughs echoing from the joyous conversations. The live band are playing music, but out here in this beautiful garden, the beats are muted and dulled. 

And the quiet is exactly what Suguru needs. 

A small bird chirps in one of the trees then flies off in surprise when the click of heels echo.

“There you are,” you call out. 

Suguru’s whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice. 

He lets go of the flower, and takes a single glance over his shoulder to find you walking towards him. 

A vision. 

His heart can’t stop stretching with every beat - he hasn’t been able to contain himself since he picked you up to take you to your friend’s wedding. Your gown is the perfect shade to compliment your skin, and the fabric bathes over your body like water. The material accentuates your figure in all the right places, making you look ethereal in the hour of twilight. 

Suguru meets you halfway. 

You are both tucked away in a secluded part of the garden, but can still see the wedding venue from where you are standing. “I didn’t want to interrupt you dancing with your friends,” he informs, extending both arms to hold your waist as he lures you into his frame. 

You are looking up at him with all the affection that the world can possibly hold. 

The shorter layers of his long hair is slicked back into a neat bun, and the rest falls down his back in a glorious waterfall of black. His three piece suit is snug on his broad frame, and the color brings out a purple hue in his eye. 

“It’s a bit chilly tonight,” you point out, shivering into his biceps as the breeze kisses the parts of your exposed skin. 

“It’s lovely. I like the venue…” he replies, “you want to take a walk with me?” 

You perch your chin on his chest and smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Suguru links his hand between your fingers, the bracelet on his wrist grazing over your skin. You love that he never takes it off, no matter what the occasion might be. 

The two of you follow the paved walkway, passing by a variety of trees and plants. There are small lamps lighting up the stoned path, guiding you both through as night settles in. “The wedding was beautiful,” you speak in a daze. “I’m so happy for them.” 

“Yeah,” Suguru answers with a sigh, “it was…nice…” 

Despite how calm he sounds, you instantly catch the hesitation in his reply. 

When you received the invite to this wedding, you were ecstatic. You were allowed to bring a date (and, of course, you asked Suguru). What you didn’t expect was for the invite to spark a long and drawn out conversation about marriage in general. In the thick of the discussion, your boyfriend revealed that he doesn’t understand the fuss behind a wedding celebration to begin with. 

“Marriage doesn’t equate to a commitment,” he blurted mindlessly with a hint of annoyance. “And weddings just seem like a waste of money to parade a relationship around for no good reason…” 

You aren’t sure what caused the outburst but you respected that Suguru had his opinions. 

Despite his indifference towards the night, he still attended for your sake. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if his commentary stemmed from a place of fear. 

Long term commitment is something new for him, and maybe the subject of marriage just spooks him a little. 

“Look, I know weddings aren’t ideal for you, but I do appreciate you coming…” you state with gratitude. “I’m really happy for them because they’ve been together for a long time. I guess it’s nice to see them have their moment…” you add on, hoping to unscramble the uneasiness in your lover’s mind. 

“So, you’ve said…” Suguru exhales, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm behind your waist. “Best thing to come out of tonight is the dress you’re wearing. Would you be sick of me if I repeat you how utterly gorgeous you look?” 

You smile, “Only if I get to tell you that you should wear suits more often…” 

“With the way you reacted earlier, I just might…” 

Your laughs filters between the trees and the leaves. The path leads you both to a small bridge. You step over the curved arch, and are suddenly surrounded by a pool of water. You can hear the gentle ripples sing from the pond underneath your feet. You release yourself from Suguru’s hold to stand on the edge, placing both hands on the rail to look own. “Look at the fish!” You squeak, noticing the bright orange and white koi swimming. Their scales shimmer under the warmth of the small bulbs lighting up the entire area. 

Suguru places both hands just outside of yours to cage you from behind, then drops his chin to meet your shoulder. The quiet settles in once again, the two of you posed like statues studying the sea creatures, and your breaths sync up. 

“When I was a kid, I was convinced that koi fish came from oranges because of the color of their skin. I had no idea who planted that idea in my head…but my mom caught me stealing oranges from our kitchen and putting them in a bathtub full of water. She scolded me because she couldn’t figure out who was taking them to begin with-” 

You laugh at the tidbit of information that he shares. “That is adorable…” 

Suguru smiles, his large hands finding your own as he clasps over them gently. 

He strokes his thumb over the back of your hands, his brows furrowing in contemplation. 

“My dad egged it on for a while,” he whispers quietly in your ear, “told me that if I keep trying, maybe one of the oranges will hatch…” 

Your body freezes that very second. 

Suguru never talks about his father. 

He mentioned him briefly in passing, like he was this presence that existed but had no real substance. All you know about his dad is that he left the family. Suguru’s mom was dependent on him for everything, and after he was gone, all the responsibility fell on Suguru’s shoulders. 

Your heart pounds. 

“One morning I went into the bathroom and found a koi fish in the tub. I was fucking ecstatic…” he huffs out a laugh. “Turns out, it was my dad who put the fish in the tub. He was trying to placate my mom about the oranges, but he also didn’t want to see me so disappointed that my theory wouldn’t work out. He figured if it worked, then I would stop my experimenting…” 

You press your back deeper into his chest, molding your spine close to his heart. 

“How old were you?” you ask softly. 

“Five or six…” Suguru answers, but there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes your heart ache. 

You flip your hands over and allow Suguru to trace his thumbs inside your palm. He follows each line that slopes up and down like it’s a drawing. His hands are one of your favorite features about him - his fingers long and slender. They looked even better with the silver accessories he had on.You trap his thumbs in your grasp, and mindlessly caress him with reassurance as you wait for him to continue. 

“My dad was charming. My mom says I get that from him. And he…loved my mom,” Suguru confesses. “At least, I thought he did. He used to carry their wedding photo in his wallet, and would show it to me sometimes…” 

You let go of his thumbs, and lace your fingers between his. You stare at the smooth surface of his silver ring, catching the small reflection of you both from the surface. 

“I…” he breathes, “We…didn’t see it coming. The night before he left, he kissed my mother while she was cleaning up dinner, and hugged Mimi and Nana. He ruffled my hair and told me to help my mom before I went to bed. He went upstairs and when I woke up the next day, he was gone.” 

A lump forms in your throat but you do your best to remain firm. You hold your strength because you recognize just how much it is taking for Suguru to be this vulnerable with you right now. But in the back of your head you see the face of a broken hearted teenage boy who knows that his world just fell apart. 

“A week later he calls my mom to tell her that he isn’t coming back. That this…that we, weren’t the life he saw for himself,” the words spill out of him with a true grit of anger, and in a sinister tone that makes goosebumps form across your back and arms. It’s a hatred so unfamiliar to you. A voice so dark it sounds like it doesn’t even belong to him. “It destroyed her. She wouldn’t get out of bed for months. I did everything I could to protect Mimi and Nana from it…” he sighs.

But who was protecting you? 

The thought rushed through your mind, but you bit back those words. 

You didn’t have to remind Suguru of something he already knew. 

“Suguru…” you breathe out, only then shifting so you can face him. Your hands find his jaw first, and you cradle him protectively wishing you could do everything in your power to take away the hurt. 

He circles his hands over your wrists and clears his throat. “I wasn’t telling you this to make you feel bad, but I’ve been acting like a dick about this wedding…” 

“You’re entitled to your opinion…” you answer back with a gentle grin, hoping to ease his grievance. 

“I just feel like I was sold this lie my whole life, you know? Once in a while, I find myself wondering what the hell he was doing, what the hell he was thinking…and after how I turned out? I didn’t want to be tied down to anything or anyone…” he huffs out a laugh, “I guess the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree. Sometimes I just want to know what was convincing him to think otherwise…”  

You pull his face closer, and peck him softly against his lips. 

“I have a hard time trusting happily ever afters…” he continues with a sigh. He drops his hand back down to the rail, and pushes his chest against yours.

One of your hand falls to his shoulder, while the other moves to hold his cheek. “Do you remember how nervous I was on our first date?” 

Suguru’s attention flickers to your pretty irises, and he holds the stare as the memory resurfaces. 

He nods his head.

You nip at your bottom lip. “That night when we almost kissed, I didn’t realize how easily I had let my guard down around you. Even after Shoko warned me to be careful! When we went on our date, I was just waiting for you to prove everyone right. For you to pull a fast one on me, to catch me off guard again, to love bomb me or try to take advantage of my naivety… ” 

Those feelings seem so distant to you now - a blurry detail of an old photograph that you couldn’t quite place. “By the end of our first date, I got to see a side of you that I didn’t even expect,” you carry on with a smile and a tilt of your head, “You’re not the man people make you out to be. And I don’t think it’s fair that you let yourself believe how everyone else perceives you…”

Suguru lets you fiddle with his tie, but his chest tightens at your words. “You are the only one who ever says that to me…” 

“You’ve always been honest, Suguru. You don’t play with people’s hearts intentionally, you’re a lot more sincere than you think you are. You’ve never lied to me about where you stood regarding relationships, and you follow through with your actions. From what you’ve told me, you’ve never been dishonest with others either. You said it yourself, you never promised commitment to anyone but they would force it on you. And, I don’t think that’s fair to you either. I don’t think it’s fair for everyone to paint you as the villain. I’m not saying you’re perfect - but no one in this world is. But…you would never abandon the people you care for so recklessly…”

You both gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, and the stillness blankets over you both to guard the serene moment. 

Suguru finds your hips, and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, remaining careful not to smudge your lipstick. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who really sees me…” he murmurs . 

His hands smoothly move back up to your waist, and Suguru brings his mouth to kiss your temple. Your arms stretch out to wrap around his, and he holds you in the sweet embrace. “I’m not really against marriage, just for your information…” he murmurs into your hairline, and you do your best to hide your amused reaction. 

Your hearts knock at one another, the muscles in your chests willing to rip skin just to get closer to the other’s soul. 

“Oh?” You ask, feigning innocence behind your reaction.  

“Look, I could truly go without. But I would be willing to give it a shot if…my partner wants that…” 

He doesn’t say it outright, but your stomach flips because you know he’s talking about you. 

Because you’re the only person he’s ever addressed with a title. 

Girlfriend, partner, significant other…  

It’s overwhelming knowing that he makes you the exception to all his rules, that he wants you to be a part of his forever. 

Time passed since your fight at Yuki’s home, but your relationship has flourished into something even better that it was before. There are no questions on where you both stand, no room for petty jealousy or hesitations. You are still learning from one another, but it only made your commitment stronger. Your mutual confession of being in love hung over your heads like a daunting shadow, but you both aren’t ready to acknowledge it again just yet. 

Love isn’t linear to either one of you, but you are okay not following a trajectory path that was supposed to make sense. 

Instead, you both relied on your intuition and desire to lead the way. 

But there is now a new hunger that stirred from within - a patience that’s wavering the longer time passes. 

The thread is so fine, it’s barely holding it together, but the will to rush that final snap was weak. When these moments bubble and boil over is when you and Suguru have found yourselves entangled in intimate scenarios for the sake of indulgence.  There was the steamy make out session which happened at a party which Satoru hosted. The place was packed with Satoru’s friends, and you both snuck away to lock yourselves in a bathroom, a little tipsy as your bodies pulsed with heat.  Suguru’s lips were sucking on your aching nipples, and you were grinding up against his thigh hoping to keep your desperate moans down. You were both cooped up in there for a while, and didn’t split apart until someone knocked on the door to interrupt. 

There was the night where you slept over at Suguru’s place. He was a bit on edge, and you offered to help him get some much needed release while you both snuggled under the sheets. his hot breath was on your neck while your hand was wrapped around his impressive length. 

There was the lazy afternoon where Suguru had you pinned to your couch. The two of you ditching your plans to stay in. Your cheeks were wet with tears from how long he chose to go down on you that day. He was drunk on desire, and you can still recollect image of staining the cushion with your arousal from how wet you were.  The noises you made were unnatural, but it was the most pleasure you’ve ever felt. 

There was the morning where he woke up to your lips wrapped around his manhood, his voice breaking when dawn cracked through the horizon as he released his passion for you on your tongue. You don’t even know what came over you, for you to wake up with this intense urge to have your lover on your mouth. And especially after Suguru gave you permission in passing, you really wanted to take him up on his offer. 

Every single time you both dipped your toes back into it, you could hear a tiny little snip of string. 

You’re not even sure what’s keeping it tethered, but it feels too big to ignore that all it will take is one more thing, before the bind will finally break. 

Footsteps approach in the distance as other guests start to meander out into the garden. 

They remind you both that you are not alone right now. 

But all you can think about is just how much you want to be. 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Suguru is charming. 

That natural charisma is what you drew you to him in the first place, and you watch all the other guests flock towards it, witness how his seduction transcends every boundariy. But you’re no longer insecure by this anymore. You don’t look at his confidence and shrink with intimidation. Now you gaze upon him with admiration and pride because Suguru’s energy is alluring and enticing, and you get to bask it in to your heart’s content. 

The venue shrinks in size when you both stop for a few slow dances, the two of you hooked on one another like an unruly knot. 

“Where did you learn to dance?” You whisper with curiosity. 

“Mimi and Nana were obsessed with balls,” Suguru responds with a hint of embarrassment. “They needed someone to play lead for them…” 

The way he talks about those girls makes you light up. Suguru was so doting towards them in every way. Even now, you have proof of just how much they rely on him. Suguru has cut a couple of dates short to bail them out of their rebellious antics or lose himself to hours on a phone call just to listen in when they need advice about life and love. 

To those girls, he was there rock. 

While listening to the toasts from the wedding party, Suguru reaches under the table to hold your hand in his. At some point, he just glances in your direction to smile at you, and you feel the whole world move with him. 

You think about forever with him - picture a life where this would be an every day occurrence. While you ate dinner, you caught his eyes squinting adorably when he laughed at one of your jokes, and it reminded you of why this side of Suguru is your favorite. 

It’s the playful side of someone who isn’t taking himself too seriously or curating a fantasy. 

You can’t stop fixating on him; at the way the tip of his noise points a little upward, and how the tendons in his neck would flex with subtle gestures. You’re so lost in this man, that life around you starts to fade, and suddenly there is another pang in your chest. 

You really didn’t want to be here anymore. 

You really wanted to be alone with him. 

As the two guests sitting beside him politely excuse themselves, you feel Suguru pin his shoulder to yours. 

Your lips find his ear, “hey,” you murmur, “you want to head out?” 

“It’s a bit early to leave. Are you getting tired?” He wonders thoughtfully. 

“I have cinnamon rolls back at my place,” you answer, feeling selfish for even suggesting this. “I wouldn’t mind dessert…” 

“Not a fan of wedding cake?” 

You shake your head no. 

Suguru grins. “Alright, let’s go…” 

You say goodbye to the bride and groom and thank them for the invite. When you exit the premises you feel like you’re walking on clouds. Suguru takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders before leading you to the car. Once inside, he strips off his vest and rolls up his sleeves. You can’t help but ogle him as he relaxes, and watch the way his expert fingers unfastens his tie. The veins on his forearms pulse, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. 

“You’re such a tease…” you scold playfully, “I wanted to do that…” 

He shifts his attention seductively in your direction, but his grin is as cheeky as ever. 

“I’ve still got clothes on that you can take off, sweetheart.” 

You pout in response. 

Suguru has one hand on the wheel, but the other slings around the back of your neck to pull you in. He doesn’t stop himself when he kisses you this time. Your lips part as his tongue slips into your mouth. There’s no reason for him to be considerate of you looking prim and proper now that you are both leaving for the evening. 

You moan into the kiss, and he hums in return. When he pulls away, your lipstick is stained all over his mouth, but you instantly catch his face. “Hold on, Sugu…” you giggle, grabbing him with one hand and reaching for the tissue in the glove compartment with the other. 

“What? The color doesn’t look good on me?” He teases. 

You shake your head as you wipe his mouth. “You’re shameless.” 

“Nothing about you gives me any reason to feel shame,” he answers matter of factly. 

Your whole body seizes, but you glance down to his mouth to avoid the intense way his eyes were piercing into yours. 

You’re still contemplating your relationship on the drive back home. There is music playing from the station, and Suguru is humming along to all his favorite tunes while keeping one of his hands nonchalantly on your thigh. It’s these moments that make your heart quiver - the quiet, mundane things that you get to share with the man of your dreams. 

And he really is the man of your dreams. 

Suguru always talks about how lucky he got with you, but you can’t help but feel the same way too.

“You know, I don’t need a wedding or marriage to prove I love someone,” you say mindlessly, “I wouldn’t force it on someone who doesn’t want it…”

Suguru squeezes your thigh, but keeps his eyes on the road. 

“Oh?” He says, his voice breaking at the abrupt statement. 

You trace your index finger over his knuckles, “I believe that love should make you feel safe. You don’t really need anything else if you have that…” 

Suguru Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. He lets your words marinate over his soul before asking, “do you feel safe with me?” 

There’s a sense of uncertainty in his tone, like he’s expecting you to deny that fact even though it’s clearly not true. He walked into this relationship thinking he was a sinner and you were a saint. You half wonder if he thinks you’ll tell him that you’re still unsure, and that he will still have to keep working to earn your trust. You clasp your hand over the one that’s resting on your thigh, and turn to look up at him. 

He’s avoiding you this time by keeping his eyes on the road. 

This is…too much for you both. 

“The safest,” you answer softly. 

He breathes out his relief but there’s a small, prideful smile resting on his lips. 

“Good to know,” he acknowledges, his voice smoother than liquid gold. 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Sugar and cinnamon permeate the corners of your apartment, and the aroma makes your stomach grumble. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs excitedly as Suguru pulls out the plate that was in the microwave. 

The roll is fat, fresh and fluffy - a perfect swirl steaming as the glaze melts between the layers. 

Suguru grabs two forks from the drawer and hands one to you. 

“Dig in, angel.” 

He lets you take the first bite, and you moan loudly as you close your eyes to savor the delicious, most perfect taste of spice and sweet. Suguru just chuckles at the response then takes a bite for himself. 

“It’s so good,” you sing. 

“It is,” he hums. 

You hook both your legs around his to tug him in, keeping as minimal space as possible. 

“So much better than cake,” you share in secret, and Suguru just gives you a knowing glance. 

“What?” You ask, gently poking the prongs of your fork on his shoulder. 

Suguru flickers his eyes down, right through the plate and straight to the space between your legs. The fan of his lashes open up beautifully, and he quirks his brow with mischievous intent. 

“I know something else that tastes even better, but I’m behaving myself…” 

Your cunt clenches with need, your body clawing at you with its reactions. It’s begging you to do something before it combusts. You ignore the demand, and dig into the cinnamon bun, only this time you bring it to his lips. “Simmer down, lover boy…” you coo. 

Suguru smiles, flashing you all his teeth before accepting the bite from your hand. “I can’t around you. That’s the problem…” he says in between chews. 

You both continue eating your treat until there is nothing left but the crumbs and drizzle. You swipe some left over frosting along with some powdery bits, and bring it up to Suguru’s mouth. He places the plate by your side, and sucks on your finger, licking it clean. You tap him playfully on the nose, and in turn he leans down to kiss you once more. 

The kiss is perfect and easy, and it makes you feel like you’re malleable in every way possible. He turns your world into pink stains and rosy pigments. Your body vibrates like it’s heeding an unspoken call, and you know for a fact that you’re not the only one feeling this right now.  

Suguru pulls away, but cups your jaw in his palms to cradle you like you’re a precious stone. He looks deeply into your eyes, a sense of uncertainty burning between that same strong gaze that was rendering you weak. 

“I never thought,” he begins to speak, but pauses for a second to collect his thoughts. You notice he does this whenever he has anything serious to say, like he is trying to make sure he’s considerate of his words. “I never thought I would have this…” 

His voice is low and hushed, and you bring two hands to wrap around his wrists. 

“Fuck, I didn’t even think I wanted this…” he adds on. 

You smirk, “I never thought I would have this too. I’ve been on my own for so long…”

“When you rejected my first kiss, ” he speaks, “I thought about backing off. I told myself not to fuck around with you. But…I couldn’t walk away.” 

“I almost thought you would,” you added on meekly “when we had that fight at Yuki’s…” 

“No matter how angry or upset I get, I’d just come crawling back to you. You have me on my knees without even knowing it…” he sighs, his thumb strokes your cheek but the way he was looking at you has you holding your breath. You can see the gears turning in his head. “I’m safe with you too,” he confirms. 

Your heart flutters, it nearly soars its way up your throat and out of your own mouth. Tears prick your eyes, but your try to ignore them. “I’m glad,” you say with a shaky breath, and attempt to clear your throat when it constricts. “I want you to be.” 

The muscles on his face pull into a sincere expression, one that’s pensive yet warm. Suguru breaths out your name, and the way it rolls off his tongue feels like a prayer. 

“I love you.” 

You were expecting it, but when those three words struck you still didn’t anticipate how deep it would puncture through your heart. You blink back the forming tears, a little sniffle leaving you as you maintain your smile. Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, his gaze softening as he arches forward to bring his mouth closer. 

You press your fingers against his lips to stop him, your dewy irises seeking out his own. 

“I love you too,” you whisper before he can carry on, and a single tear falls unexpectedly which Suguru quickly catches with his thumb. 

Your lover presses his mouth to yours with a kiss that fully unravels you. You move to grab onto his shirt, because it feels like you’re turning into dust. His mouth finds your cheek, the tip of your nose, and then moves back to your lips once again. His hand falls to your lap, his arms extending to wrap around you and engulf you in his frame. 

And you wanted to be consumed by every part of him. 

He picks up your legs and wraps them around his waist, keeps you secure against his chest before lifting you up from the kitchen counter. Your mouth leaves his and finds his neck, your lips licking over the spot that you know makes his cheeks turn a certain shade of red. 

He grunts out a curse, and hurries straight to the bedroom. 

He shoves his shoulder against the wooden frame, leading you both inside. He carefully perches you on the mattress, then kneels on the ground right in front of you. You wipe the mouth with the back of your hand, your body burning from the layer you still had on. You shrug off Suguru’s jacket, and watch as he carefully clasps your ankle. He places it on his thigh, and removes your pointed heel from one foot.

He arches forward to kiss your knee before switching to your other leg. 

One of your hands reaches for the shell of his ear, and you trace the curve all the way down to his piercing. 

“Sugu,” you call out to him, as he takes off the second shoe. He lifts his head to find your desperate eyes. “My dress…” 

He crawls up your body and hoists you back so you were standing upright on your bare feet. He spins you, so you are facing the bed, making your stomach flip as your eyes stare down at the pillows and slightly rumpled sheets. 

It feels different this time. 

Your stomach erupts with butterflies. 

His expert fingers find the zipper of your dress, and he tugs at the seam and draws it off. Your body exhales from the release, and Suguru kisses the curve of your shoulder as the material drops to your feet. 

You turn to face him, and rush to find the buttons of his shirt. 

Your hands are shaking. 

You unlatch the first button and the second, but by the time you get to the third you feel one of his hands grasp over yours which jitters. 

“Baby,” he speaks affectionately, “we don’t have to…” 

You shake your head, “no, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just…a little nervous. We waited so long-” 

He loosens his grip when your voice breaks, making it hard for your to speak. His hand meets your naked waist and he interrupts you with another kiss. 

“I told you once that I would take such good care of you,” he states, “And I will…” 

Your fingers linger over the button of his shirt. 

“Don’t rush. We will take it nice and slow,” he ensures, “we’ve got all the time we need.” 

He lets you catch yourself; lets you find a minute to breathe from the whirlwind of emotions that  have compounded into you. You release a shaky exhale, and try to ignore the way your knees tremble and the back of your neck pricks with warmth. 

He taps you underneath your chin, “weren’t you the one giving me the hard time earlier about taking off my clothes?” 

The casualness of his delivery makes you puff out a laugh, but the comfort gives you the push you need to continue undressing him.  He slips off his shirt, and your hands touch at the surface of his hard torso. You’ve seen Suguru naked countless times now, but he still takes your breath away no matter what. Your hand grazes over the front of his pants, and his eyes flutter close as you touch his hard-on. You unfasten his belt, and unzip his trousers. The fabric falls to the floor, leaving Suguru in just his boxers. 

You both step out of the puddle of clothing, and stand half-naked in the middle of the room. 

Suguru reaches to hold your hands in his. “If anything, anything…” he speaks quietly, “makes you uncomfortable, just tell me. If you want to stop at any point, we will stop”

“You’ll tell me too?” You respond innocently, and Suguru almost chokes back his reply because no one has ever asked him that question before. 

Who knew that such a simple gesture would cause something to pricks his own eyes. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll tell you…” 

“I want to make sure…” you sigh, “that I do this right” 

He smiles against your lips. “Practice makes perfect, right?”, he says with a kiss. “But for tonight, I want this to be about you, okay?” 

“But…” you resist, and gaze up at him affectionately with an expression that forces himself to hold back from ruining you right then and there. “but it’s about us. I want you tell me what you like. I want to know what you enjoy. So, I will know for next time…”

“I’ve got you,” he breathes as he bites at your bottom lip with his teeth. “That’s all I need…” 

Your head feels so light, you think it’s made of air. “Why does this feel so different from everything we’ve done before?” You gasp, pushing away from his face as your noses bump. 

“Because it is different…” Suguru adds, his fingers tucking under your chin to stop you from hiding. “It is.” 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Tangled between another kiss and between more sweet caresses, you find yourself on the mattress once again. Suguru brings his mouth to your ear, his fingers hooking underneath your damp underwear. 

“I need you wet,” he informs under his breath, pressing the pads of his digits to your slick slit.  “Really, really wet…” 

All you can do is whimper at that. 

“You’ll be good for me, yeah, angel? Let me prep you just right?” 

Your thighs spread wider. “Yeah, I’ll be good for you…” 

Suguru snags your lobe with his teeth - the heat of his mouth travels down your neck. He licks his way down the slope, pausing to suck on the tender, sensitive areas he’s grown to love so much. He moves lower to the mounds of your breasts, and he peppers your chest with soft bites and kisses. 

“Unhook your bra for me, love…” he adds, his fingers working your pussy the whole time. 

He rubs you gently, and at such a languid pace it makes you want to relax. 

You arch your back up, and he separates himself just enough for you to remove your bra. 

Your breasts spill out on display for him, and you toss the lacy material over his shoulder which makes his eyes squint with amusement. When it catches on to a lamp and you almost jerk with worry thinking you knocked it over. 

“It’s fine,” Suguru soothes, and you cover your mouth to hide your own laugh. 

His heart sighs at the response, at the comfort you have with him by your side. 

He is the only man in the world who gets to see you like this. 

You truly belong to him in every way possible. 

Your laugh stutters into quiet pants, as his fingers spread your lips to gather your arousal. He moves up to find your clit, and rubs over the hard little nub carefully. 

You sigh into his touch, and only then does he lean to kiss your nipple. 

He drags his tongue across the pointed end, his lips circling around the tip to suck. Your arms drape over his shoulders, keeping him in place as your body trembles with desire. Suguru bites and tugs at your nipple, his hand spreading your lips to tease the entrance before returning back to your clit. 

Your nails drag down his back, and he groans at the touch. 

All you can hear is quiet squelches from between your legs and your pants echoing around you. 

Suguru slithers his body lower and lower, his tongue tasting the mid-line of your stomach until he makes his way to your pubis. He presses a kiss to the middle, the heat of his breath getting closer and closer to your clit. 

“When you masturbate, have you been doing what I showed you?” He asks. 

Your body ignites on fire, and you see his mouth hover of your clit as his fingers pause its movement. 

You swallow the thickness in your throat. 

Suguru taught you how to finger-fuck yourself. The same night you gave him a hand job, he returned the favor by perching your back against his chest and spreading your legs wide. He guided you and showed you how to carefully press your fingers inside you. 

He wanted you to get used to the sensation. 

“Yes,” you say with a nod. 

“Atta girl,” he answers with pride, then clasps his lips over your clit. 

A sound comes from the base of your throat, as your head falls back. 

His tongue flicks back and forth over the bud in measured movements, and his fingers spread the lips of your labia. He uses his middle finger to prod at your entrance, grazing over the hole teasingly for a second at first. As your body opens up for him, he pushes it in, and slowly pushes his digit in until it reaches his first knuckle. 

You quiver from the sensation - it’s so foreign having someone else penetrate you. You’ve grown use to your own touch, but Suguru’s hands were different than your own. 

He drags it back and forth, keeping his mouth over your clit. 

The second your breath evens out is when he picks up the pace and pushes his finger even further. Your hips buck gently as he pushes all the way down to the base, a cry leaving your throat as two hands move to grip the pillow behind you. 

You can hear him slurp, and lick, and suck. Hear the “schlick” sound that his finger is orchestrating. 

He pumps faster and faster, his other hand moving to rest on your lower belly. 

Your toes curl, and your legs spasm from the electric shocks that ripple down and up your body. 

“Suguru~” you whine, and he just nibbles at your clit in acknowledgement. 

Your nose gets a little stuffy, your eyes shut close as white little sparks flash from behind your lids. Your lower back arches as he curls his finger, moving in a come hither motion that makes your belly flutter. 

You shake and moan, a string of vowels leaving your tongue. 

You tense around his finger as your orgasm pulses through your body, shaking out of you necessarily. Suguru releases your clit with a pop, but only slows his finger inside you. He keeps maintaining his movement, his gaze catching the daze of your own. 

He’s insatiable. He doesn’t even know if a lifetime would fulfill him from how badly he craves you. 

“I love how you say my name right when you’re about to cum,” he coos, the hand on your lower belly moves further down to touch your tender clit.  He massages the bud with his thumb, his other finger fucking you with calculative precision. “The way your voice gets all breathy and light,” he adds on with a purr, “god, it’s my favorite fucking sound…” 

You’re besotted by him; your eyes glowing with only love as you feel him work his affection between your legs. 

“Going to make you cum again, alright, baby?” He informs, his head dipping back down to replace his thumb with his mouth again. 

You nod your head - you told him you would let him lead, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Suguru alternates; sometimes his tongue would be on your clit, and others it’s buried between your folds. The way he’s making love to your body right now has you liquifying. You’re not sure where his touch begins and where your pleasure ends. 

It feels so good, too good. 

You can barely tell when Suguru starts prodding in a second a finger, only when the stretch expands and your breath carries with it. 

“Oh, f-fuck…” you shiver against his mouth, and Suguru uses two fingers this time to pump out your second orgasm. 

He’s a bit rougher with his movements, allowing his fingers to dip and out of you at a pace that relieves some of his own tension. He pulls his mouth away, and lifts his body slightly up as he sees your thighs splay further apart. His other hand comes down to massage your clit, and you can feel your wetness drip down his fingers and between the line of your sex. 

Your belly clenches tightly this time, and your heart skips every other beat. 

“Feel good?” he checks in. 

“Yesyesyes,” you reply eagerly, your hips lifting from the surface. 

“I can see that,” he hums, as he presses more firmly on your clit to swipe back and forth in a quicker motion. “You’re a fucking vision right now…” 

The sound you make is pathetic but you don’t even care - you’re so overwhelmed by what’s happening right now you are not considering how untamed you look. Your hips lift up higher, and you buck against Suguru’s ministrations despite how relentless he is. 

If that man wants you to cum on fingers or tongue, he will make it happen, regardless of how you respond. 

Your second orgasm is sharper, and when it hits, Suguru instantly pulls his hands away and rests it against your hips. Your cunt contracts and pulses in beats, and your spine tingles from the sensation. He arches back forward to snag your a nipple poking against the air. He sucks on the bud, and licks over it once, before sliding his tongue back up your neck until he finds your mouth. 

You can smell yourself on him. 

Taste yourself on him. 

His hands link with your own and he wraps it around his neck so you’re holding him. 

He gives you a few minutes to steady yourself, but your breath is being stolen by his lips and tongue. 

“One more,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you whimper in defeat. 

“You’ll be okay, angel,” he responds as he sits upright. 

He unties his hair, his mane surrounding his face in a dark halo. He pulls back the entirety of its length into a single bun, keeping it out of the way as he watches you pant to steady yourself. 

It occurs to him then that he forgot to put down a towel, but he’s too far gone to stop. 

“We don’t need this anymore,” he instructs, reaching for the string of your panties. 

He takes them off you and drops them to the side. 

His cock strains against his boxers, the bulge making your eyes widen with anticipation. 

He removes them next, allow his dick to spring free as it smacks against him with dribbles of pre-cum leaking from the head. 

“Touch yourself,” he instructs, keeping his eyes on you to make sure you follow through. 

You tweak your nipple with one hand while the other slithers down your stomach. 

God, you were wet. 

Suguru gets up from the bed only to reach for his pants. He pulls out his wallet, and finds the condom that he slipped in just a few months ago. He used to have them on him all the time, but stopped carrying one around after you both got together. But ever since things started heating up, he thought it would be good to have one just in case. 

“Sugu~?” You call out. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Can I-” you request, and point at the rubbery material with your other hand. 

He nods his head and settles back on the bed. 

He rips the condom open for you, and you take it. After you position yourself, you proceed to stroke his length, moving back and forth over his shaft and you feeling yourself dripping for him. 

Every part of this man is a blessing. 

Suguru grunts, and stammers “c-condom….” 

But you keep stroking him and lick your lips. “Want you in my mouth…” 

He hisses at that, his abdomen flexing when your thumb drags over his slit. 

He does everything in his power to keep it together, musters up all the will he can to ensure he doesn’t release himself on your hand right then and then. 

“Wait ’til I’m inside you,” he begs, “please, angel…”

You give in because you want it just as much too. 

Once you roll the condom on, Suguru grabs onto your ass and pulls you in for another kiss. This one is a little more sloopy, a little more animalistic. He sucks on your tongue, and leaves a mark of bruising adoration on your bottom lip. He slots his knee between your legs, and situates you down so your pussy was pressed against his thigh. 

“Grind up against me,” he breathes into your mouth. “I like to feel how wet you are…” 

He has one hand on your ass, the other on your nipple which he tweaks and pulls. Your hips start gyrating in thrusts against his thigh, and just as you find a steady pace, he moves to kiss you once again. 

The bed creaks and the springs mewl, but you hump his thigh like you’re in insufferable heat. 

Suguru flexes his thigh against your cunt, and you claw at the front of his chest as you moan into his mouth. 

“I can’t wait to have you riding me,” he smiles into another kiss, and pinches your nipple as you start climbing up yet another peak. He slaps your ass playfully, his teeth biting your bottom lip. “Faster.” 

You oblige, and increase the movements. 

You pull away from his mouth, and press your forehead to his. Your hands brace yourself on his shoulders until both your legs clench around his thigh. 

There’s a tear that leaves you when your orgasm hits this time, but you’re shaking in his arms and he kisses your cheek lovingly. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he praises against your ear. 

His thigh is sticky with your arousal, the glittering strings clinging on both your bodies. 

Suguru kisses you once more, and pushes his weight down so you fall back to the mattress. He keeps you lingering in the act until he aligns himself. “Don’t tense up,” he instructs, “I need you open for me…”

Time goes still with neither of you really breathing. You both focus on the point of contact, watch as Suguru presses the tip of his cock to your entrance. The initial push of the fat head feels like a breach, but you try to do your best to relax. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he sighs like he’s in disbelief, “my pretty pussy…” 

And with that, he breaks you. 

The stretch makes you scrunch up your nose and brows, but Suguru manages to get the head in with no complications. 

“That’s the tip, baby. You’re doing well. Breathe for me, okay? Just relax…” 

You nod your head, and follow through. With every exhalation you tell your muscles to relax, and allow your body to turn into something that your lover can mold. Suguru pushes in another inch, moving carefully as to not shock you. 

One more now, he counts, watching as you slowly suck him in. 

But you hiss when the stretch starts to burn, and the man drops to his forearms to keep you in a close embrace. 

“Suguru, wait,” you beg worringly, and he halts his movements instantly. 

He kisses your cheek, and then your neck. He kisses your collar bone and then your jaw. He finds your lips and pecks you softly. “Angel,” he soothes, “look at me…” 

Your eyes are brimming with tears. He can feel that you’re fully tensed up. 

When you meet his gaze, you soften, and sniffle as you try to relax your upper body first. 

One of Suguru’s hands finds your hips, and he tenderly rubs gentle circles against your pelvis. 

“I know, baby. I know it’s not comfortable right now, but I promise it’ll feel good. You’re taking me in so well…” he ensures, “but I need you to keep breathing, please.” 

You release a shaky breath, and nod your head as you lick your lips. 

“Nice and slow, remember?” Suguru reminds you. “I’ll only move when you tell me to…” 

A few deep breaths in and out, and you finally give him permission to carry on. 

He guides you the rest of the way, guides you through the painful breach and stretch of him of finally taking your virginity. Your body doesn’t know anyone else but him, but in turn he realizes that he never wants to be inside anyone else other than you. 

You can’t manage his full length at the moment, but that’s okay. 

He isn’t going to hurt you. 

Not ever. 

Goosebumps ripple on your skin. Your head falls back to the pillow as one hand circles around Suguru’s forearm. He kisses your neck with so much care it almost makes your heart shatter to be loved this way. He starts thrusting, his movements so gentle and sweet. His body is connected to yours, his weight heavy as the heat of his cock spreads your gummy walls for him. You tilt your face so you were in line with him, your eyes opening sleepily as you find his set. Your lids are heavy, your body adjusting to the transition from pain to pleasure. Your legs grow weak as they spread further apart from each side, and the more Suguru moves the more he can feel you taking in a little more of him. 

“Feels,” you sigh dreamily, “feels good now…” 

“Think you can take all of me?” He asks. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, try…” 

Suguru braces himself, because he knows he just might bust a nut on the spot from how you are squeezing him. He leans down to kiss your temple and your parted lips, then readjusts his position. 

And then he thrusts. 

Your vision goes white as he buries himself to the hilt. All you can feel his hot heat breath on the side of your neck, the room starting to spin as your body grows to understand this new form, this new feeling. 

He stays still for a few minutes just simply cock warming you. It breaks him then, just how long he’s waited with such determination to have you here in his arms like this. You can feel something wet on your skin. Suguru draws in a deep inhale through his nose, far too overwhelmed by his own emotions. “Heaven,” he murmurs into your neck,“you feel like fucking heaven.” 

When you meet his stare again, you see that his own eyes are glossy. 

Suguru leans down to kiss you, capturing the intimacy on his tongue. “I love you so fucking much,” he exhales once more, and slowly starts moving his hips again. 

“Love you too, Sugu~” you whine back and wrap your arms around his shoulder to keep him as close as possible in your embrace. 

He presses into you, fucks you like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched, as he makes love to you for the very first time. There is no more words that follow after, just your panting breaths and quiet moans in between. The bed frame hits the wall from his weight, the sheets gathering away from the mattress. You taint the condom with each of his thrusts, both of your hips stuttering from the sensation of your bodies becoming one. Suguru rests his forehead against yours, one hand reaching to lace between your own which he presses down feverishly against the sheet. Your lips hover over one another, sharing each erratic breath. You close your eyes and feel your body blending into all of his angles. 

Suguru kisses your cheek, then slips his tongue back inside your open mouth. 

You’re tangled and knotted up in every way possible, and your hips begin to spasm as your orgasm builds. You can feel your clit brushing up against him, and the sensation makes you shake as your body comes apart. You break away from the kiss just to look down at the point where your bodies meet, and your toes curl as you consider just how perfectly made you are for one another. 

When your orgasm rips, you almost pass out. 

Suguru holds you in place, his movements more careless when gives in to his last few thrusts. 

He groans loudly when he finally cums. 

Your bodies collapse into each other, your form pulled into strings as if you are swimming in a black hole of love. You’re clinging onto him out of need, still attempting to come down from this euphoric high. Meanwhile, Suguru doesn’t pull out just yet, but instead rolls over to his side and keeps you tucked in his frame. 

When you meet his attention, you see life bleed back into your little bubble of love. 

His hair is tousled, his cheeks a little blushed. You trace your fingers against the crimson blooming underneath his skin, notice that his eyes are still glittering from when the tears formed. 

“Hi,” you whisper.  

“Hi,” he answers back. “You okay?” 

You prod your face into his neck, nuzzling him and gathering his scent. The air smells of your love for each other, and you just wanted to take it all in. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, before returning back and meeting him eye to eye. 

Suguru reaches on hand up, and slowly outlines the shell of your ear. 

He can’t stop staring at you. 

He’s so in love with every part of you. 

But this time, there was nothing guarding that fact, it’s written so plainly on his face. 

The way he’s looking at you, you know nobody has ever seen such an expression before. 

This is a first for him too. 

And how lucky are you to be the only person in the world to witness it. 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @gradmacoco @labelt-san @bloomix00 @fleurni

[homestylehughes]

bed chem.

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.

wc: 1.5K

an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)

as always, much much love <3

He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him. 

He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good. 

“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream

“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you. 

“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you

“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic 

“Nope,” she says, popping the p.

“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically 

“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys. 

“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you 

“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer. 

Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends. 

“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble. 

“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction. 

“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm 

Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends. 

“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you” 

“I don't even know if i'll see him again”

“Never say never.” 

You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor. 

“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor. 

– 

After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face. 

Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away. 

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes. 

“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.

“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator. 

“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator. 

“And you're the guy” you say

“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes. 

“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues 

“I saw” you spoke 

“Almost had you too” he says 

“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes. 

“Well we’re here now” he replies 

“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off 

“Quinn. My names quinn” he says 

“Yn. my names yn” 

“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.

The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.

You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly. 

Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you. 

“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper

“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator. 

“Mhm” you mumble to him

“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move. 

You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need. 

Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch. 

“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door” 

“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body. 

“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks 

“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key. 

“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear. 

Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open. 

Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other. 

“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips 

“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt. 

“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you

“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders. 

Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.

[monkebearness]

A Cold Summer Fling

Lynn (tripleS) x Male Reader

Tags: smut, angst, (light) fluff, heartbreak, first love, fling

Word count: 9.5k

a/n: this one is more on the angst side, so it may or may not be for you. regardless, if you do wanna give it a try, I hope you like it.

Neither of them knew how he’d reached this point. They did, but the ‘why’ still keeps on running in his mind while Junghoon has his arms wrapped around Lynn’s waist as they lie down on the couch, staring in front of the television playing a music show in the past half an hour. Idols dancing has never been his most favorite content to watch in general, but he has always admired their singing, hard work, and overall talent.

Nuzzling her head on his chest, the woman turns to his direction. “Oppa.”

He looks down—seeing her face him—with an earnest and clueless smile. “Hmm?”

“I know I've mentioned it a few times before, but we have a performance coming up at the Summer Festival. If, uhh, you have the time—”

He hesitates for a second. “Of course! I’m sure that I have time to watch. Maybe I'll finally get to see what you and your crew have been cooking up for months.”

“Hmmm… I don't think it's too different from what you're seeing,” she teases him, her fingers delicately trailing from his chin down to chest. “Well, except for one thing.”

“What's that?” He entertains her suggestive cadence with his soft and suave delivery, his fingers trailing across her smooth shoulders to match the mood she’s setting up.

Her smile turns into a smirk, leaning closer. “Only you can touch me,” she whispers.

With a wide smile, the woman closes her eyes and lovingly leans her lips into Junghoon, which he welcomes as she turns the rest of her body around to face him, deepening the kiss while he tightens his arms around her, with his fingers trailing down her curves.

“I want it now, oppa,” she gasps in-between their kiss, holding his chin. “Please…”

“Of course,” he grunts as he continues taking over her mouth with his dominant tongue. 

With Lynn’s fingers ticking his crotch, excitement drives him to use one hand to slide off his joggers, unveiling his hog right before Lynn's eyes, further amplifying her excitement towards him in an instant. She quickly takes her skirt and panties off and gets up to sit on his lap. Their timing couldn’t have been better—sensing his cock erecting in almost an instant at the same time she takes off her top, revealing her plump breasts without a bra to hold them. With his salivating mouth, he prowls straight to her mounds, inciting a prolonged yelp that she can't contain. “Nggggghhh, so good… Fuck! Opp—augghhh...”

“Jamkkanman.” He parts from her breast, holding her hand. “I’ll just get a condom—”

“No need,” the woman piles her hand over his, her smile glowing with lust. “I'm safe tonight, oppa…” She leans closer to his cheek, giving it a cool lick before whispering. “Just do it.” next to his ear.

Within seconds, he aligns his member into her entrance without hesitation and struggle. Sliding in her tight hole. With his rod now inside throbbing her tight walls, a determined Junghoon holds onto Lynn’s hips and begins thrusting in and out of her. In seconds, his movements find Lynn's sweet spots, as he usually does. Hearing his sweet whispers, the woman can only respond to him through her growing moans, matching the movement of his robust rams with her smooth grinds. Until now, this act hasn't gotten any older, even though it’s what they’ve been doing almost every time they hang out here.

The woman’s nails dig through his skin, her grinds on his member intensifies with each second until her tits begin to bounce. “You're so… fucking goooo—auugghhhppa!” With such a spectacle in sight, Junghoon falls into the temptation of taking a second dip with his mouth, feeling the vibrations while sucking. “Su…ssugoi!” she howls out of the blue.

“W–what… is it?” he mutters, himself still powering through their strenuous movement while feeling the contrast of pleasure of his balls deep inside her at the same time. The woman can only giggle playfully—as if she’s lost all her sanity while being impaled.

The ticking of the clock and their skins sync to their ears. The woman looks up, gasping for air as her eyes roll back to the side. “I’m… I’m close!” she groans from the top of her lungs, closing her eyes and bracing herself for her own juices to slowly spurt out. At the same time, her thirst slowly forces her tongue to stick out, her jaw opening like a shark.

“Me too,” the man huffs, tightening his embrace around his partner while his mouth continues to nibble and suck on her neck, triggering a note that prolongs her moans while they maintain their movement with every powerful thrust against each other. Finding her own primal noises as harmonious to his lust-driven senses, Junghoon cannot help but relish by rewarding Lynn a sloppy kiss as their movements begin slowing down with their stamina.

With three more thrusts, Junghoon stops and shoots his load into Lynn’s womb while the latter squeals with jubilation with her back arched, unable to contain herself from basking in the wave of pleasure which is now transmitting across her quivering body.

They stay in place on the sofa, only left with a smile of satisfaction on their faces. Lynn lays her head on his shoulder, giggling, while Junghoon steals a kiss on her cheek. As they catch their breaths beside each other, the wall clock strikes nine in the evening.

After wearing her top once again, Lynn puts her panties back on as she gets up from the sofa and heads to the kitchen. “I’ll just have a glass of water. You want a glass too?”

“I’m good.” From his seat, Junghoon looks back at her. “But thanks, Lynn-ah.”

He reminisces about how he’s gotten to this point, with this wonderful woman beside him. He has promised to sleep over her place for the night, though he was hesitant to decline her offer at first. Needless to say, he’s quite glad that he didn't turn her down.

They’ve been seeing each other for three months, not long after Junghoon returned to the university campus after a year, although he wasn’t the only one who has made this decision in mind. He simply took advantage of the situation, and now, he’s reaped the fruits of his labor. For better or worse.

His eyes glance at the calendar on the wall, it’s already May. His graduation is coming up in less than a month. Slowly, his smile fades as his mind goes blank, but it will turn out to be a calm right before the thunderstorm of his misgivings has come flooding in.

= = =

Four months earlier, the campus of Seoul State University reopens after winter break. Tons of snow have accumulated on all of the building rooftops, yet that doesn’t stop students from reuniting with their buddies in this first week of classes of this new semester, especially the ones they haven't seen even before the long, cold break.

“You two have grown up so much!” Kotone coos each of her two friends with a quite melodramatic, motherly pitch. She pinches Honggi’s shoulder, before moving on to pinch Junghoon’s left cheek. “Aww… There’s not much I can pinch there anymore.”

Their hairs have grown inches since they first enlisted, still a few inches halfway to their usual look. Their overall body shape appears more ‘toned,’ as their posture is straighter.

“Yeah, yeah,” Junghoon politely pushed her touchy hands, although the sight of his friends warms his heart. “But, I gotta say, I am glad that we’re back with you guys.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Honggi places his palm on his shoulder. “But we’re mostly gonna be on our own for this year, bud. But again, I’m glad we still have each other.”

“Yeah, but I think it’ll be fine. I don’t think being a senior should be any different.” Kotone and Myungsoo can only smile at their close friend’s wholesome optimism.

“Except for our thesis,” Honggi adds as he forms a smirk, which weirds out Kotone and Myungsoo with their raised eyebrows and tilted heads. Who even smiles at the mention of the word thesis? As Honggi nudges Junghoon’s shoulder, he only rolls his eyes with a chuckle, knowing exactly what his friend is insinuating. “Isn’t that right, Jung-ah?”

“Yah, yah… Is it what I think it is? Just because we’re all friends, you better not dare freeload our maknae!” Kotone exclaims, raising her fist right at Honggi. “Both your grades and graduation will be at stake here if you ever mess up his concentration.”

“As if I’ve ever!” He raises his hands in the air. “We rarely get paired up because most of our classes were different, but whenever we were partners, I was the only one who stood up to him. I have only met up and worked with him, whenever he wasn’t busy working!”

“That’s fair, but then again, you’re not Sohyun-sunbae,” Kotone shoots back.

“I’m pretty sure she was the freeloader to Junghoon, remember?” Honggi counters her.

“Come on, guys! Enough arguing,” Junghoon burns their fuse with his voice, something that he rarely raises. At least not when he really has to. “It’s already past noon and it's still freezing here… Plus, I’m kinda starving. Aren’t y’all?”

“Finally, someone’s thinking straight!” Myungsoo backs him up, lightly holding onto his shoulder. “You heard the soldier. Today, we’ll have the almost-veterans take their pick.”

That day, seeing his closest friends was the start of his routine going back to normal.

“Oppa!” He hears the cheery greetings from two familiar voices he hasn’t heard in the last several months since they visited him at their training center with all his buddies.

Gong Yubin and Jeong Hyerin would catch on to his return later that afternoon. They may no longer have a little club to meet up, but they didn’t want to miss out on their sunbae and old friend returning. “Omo! It’s been long, you two. How’ve you been?”

“Still kicking through a couple of semesters now… And somehow, Mad Money has yet to reunite!” Yubin confesses, running her hands through her hair. “The rest of us anyway.”

“Well… I’m sure the spirit of the club still lives on with you girls,” Junghoon hopes, even though he understands what she meant. The more their unnies and fellow members had left or graduated, the rest could no longer keep up with the passage of time and stacks of priorities weighing them. “From what I heard, you’d still meet even without the club.”

“We have.” A warm smile leaves Hyerin’s face, just before a sigh of  weariness follows. “By next week, Kae-chan and I are gonna practice all night for some event our leaders aren’t even telling us about yet. Yubin-unnie here is probably gonna be sent off by her parents to culinary school in the summer.”

“Wow…” They’ve come this far. Deep down, he feels a sense of pride for them. “I don’t know what else to say, other than I know that you’ll do well.”

“And you, oppa?” Yubin chimes in with curiosity. “Were things well at the center?”

“I mean… I did pretty okay?” He answers with half the confidence, shrugging at her. “All things considered.”

“We’re just glad that you’re back,” Yubin admits, playfully squishing his shoulder. “Even if you still have the rest of your semester.” She counts with her fingers, starting with her pinky. “To finish your training, your internship, and your thesis.”

“I'm sure it's doable. It just takes a little planning and a lot more effort,” Junghoon humbly retorts. “After all, I've learned from the best club.”

Yubin only exhales a smile, shaking her head as a few blissful memories of their old crew flashes back to her.

“We know, but whenever you’re having a problem, you better ask for our help!” Hyerin slowly points her finger at Junghoon as if she’s giving him a threat, which scares him a little. “The club may be done, but we wanna repay you somehow for being there for us, with our unnies.”

“Gomawo…” Looking back, he believes more that, without the Mad Money Club, and the considerate people in it, he would not even be here, and he’ll always wear that mentality.

“By the way, your cousin has been a handful, you know that?” Hyerin adds, inciting a nod and chortle from Yubin while she crosses her arms.

“Yah… You’re the ones who volunteered—begged me even—to take her the moment she got here,” he defends himself, keeping his cadence relaxed while holding in a somewhat smug smile. “Even though Tone-yah was the first one who offered to give her a tour.”

“Oh, she still joined unnie’s club since they’re still hanging around,” Yubin corrects him. “And we’re pretty sure it was Yooyeon-unnie who really got to her without doing much.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “I guess she gets to have the best of both worlds.”

But joyous reunions aside, he knows that not everything is the same. And it won’t be. Still, even with this truth, he moves on with his life in many ways he can. Sentiments about the past will not help him get through it. If he has to do it alone, he’ll have to.

Back to being a senior, awaiting his graduation in the following year. Despite him having stepped down from the student council, he was able to win over his old batchmates since they knew his capabilities as an aide. By the end of the month after his return, Junghoon managed to land a gig at their University Library, agreeing to shift for two to three times a week due to his ongoing service. Afternoon and night shifts, to be precise. It pays a little, but it's enough for him to compensate for his old part-time gigs. He’s even surprised that it pays at all.

From six to ten, the library gives him a haven to study and spend more time outside his dorm so he can work on his academics in their counter without much of a disturbance.

“Annyeonghaseyo, sunbaenim. I'd like to borrow these books.”

For the most part. Though, it's not this process that bothers him, since it's his job after all. Rather, it's this familiar person right in front of him.

“Soomin-ah… What are you doing here? It’s late.”

Thankfully, his patience is better than most folks.

“Come on. I’m exercising my rights as a recent college sophomore, oppa!”

“Do that elsewhere then. Namely, your dorm.”

She pouts at him, placing her knuckles on her waist, like a whiny kid. “Hmm… That’s not a nice way to treat your little cousin.”

“Your brother does that too,” he shoots back. Of course, he can’t be angry at family.

“Hmph. That’s the problem.” She crosses her arms. “You're not Hyungmin-oppa. You’re you, which I need... And I’m here to support you on your late shifts! You didn’t complain whenever we came to visit you at your training center.”

She's done it. Talking her out of going home is no longer an option. She’s not in middle or high school anymore. “Well, you’ve proved your point. But… you can start ‘showing your support’ by keeping your voice down first, arasseo?”

“Hwaiting!” She keeps her voice down, but not without making herself sound sardonic. A few minutes later, Soomin would venture to another area in the building. The lounge where she can still bring herself out of her boredom with her laptop and a few manhwa books. Meanwhile, Junghoon is given a new task from his superior.

“Junghoon-ssi… Do you mind returning the books to the shelves? I know we still have an hour left, but it’d be better if you only got a few things to do before you wrap up.”

“Not at all, ma’am,” he complies in an instant, walking to the book cart with alertness. “I'll get to it now.”

It took him about ten minutes to return all fifty books to seven sections, but as soon as he finishes his task, his eyes catch something else that's lost. Walking inside the Korean Literature Section, he sees an I.D. has been left lying on the floor. Approaching the item forward, he picks it up, finding the face of a woman. By the looks of her identification number, she’s more likely a junior. Kawakami Lynn, from the Department of Dance. Feeling that privacy has just been violated, he quickly looks away, only for his gaze to land back at the counter, seeing three women talking to the main librarian.

The first two women are about the same height, though the one that stands out with her strangely high pitched voice, while the other’s hair is dyed brown. But finding familiarity with the third woman unleashes a surge of relief over him. Thank God she hasn’t left the building. She faces him just as he walks to her. Astonishment towards her height arises. Seeing the woman a few meters apart, she appears to be about two centimeters shorter than him, but still tall nevertheless, he almost forgets how to initiate the conversation until the woman’s friends shift their gaze towards him, giving more pressure to him.

He gives a few light taps on her shoulder. “Ma’am..? Jamkkanmanyo…”

In front of his presence, her gaze remains just as stunned as he was. “Ne?”

He raises his hand. “May I ask if this is yours?”

“Ne!” she almost raised her voice in surprise. “That is mine. Omo! Kamsahamnida!”

But she's not done. “May I ask what your name is?”

He offers his right hand to her. “My name’s Geum Junghoon. I'm a senior.”

But something tells him his own gesture might be too much. His own hesitation.

“I know you already saw it from my I.D., but…” She catches his hand quickly before he can pull it back. “I’m Kawakami Lynn. I am a junior.”

Her rush of explanation makes him chuckle. “I have, but it’s nice to meet you, Lynn.”

Whether or not her memory was shrouded in her own romantic butterflies swarming her mind and body, Lynn definitely remembers feeling a spark of electricity the longer their hands touch and slowly shake. Scanning Junghoon’s appearance from head to toe, she notices his I.D., instinctively comparing both faces in front of her eyes. His nose. His lips. His physique. Her common sense knows they're the same person, yet she can’t help but give him a second look, in awe with the finding. Junghoon awaits her response with a simper. On her left, Lynn’s brown-haired friend nudges her on the shoulder. “Psssst!” while the black-haired one giggles, shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Mianhae! It’s, uhhhh, nice meeting you too, Junghoon-sunbae…” Her smile widens the more her butterflies start to fill her stomach. Still beside her, Lynn’s friends can only shake their heads while holding their grins and chuckles. “And these two are my friends, Hayeon and Sion,” she continues, hoping it will conceal her sudden fit of panic.

Did she just check me out? is the immediate question that pops up, since meeting her that night, but her presence has already enticed him just as well. Her smile. Her eyes. Her height, still. But he reciprocates her formalities, bowing to both her friends while such intrigue about her still lingers on. “It’s nice meeting all of you. I’ll just be here.”

Even before they leave the counter, Lynn steals a glance at her sunbae from a distance. Whether it's through his peripherals, senses, or both, Junghoon also feels her gaze from afar, but the moment his hands look back, he finds her rushing to her friends as they all exit the room. A snortle exhales through his nose, shaking his head in disbelief while he returns the book cart next to the counter desk.

= = =

Weeks have passed. Junghoon thought it was a silly encounter he and his friends would look back on and have a laugh at or wonder about what ifs. He couldn’t be more wrong, considering how the same woman would often cross paths with him since that night.

Several meetups on campus might not be the fanciest dates they’ve had in mind (even though they weren’t dating), but they made the most of their time. Aside from his bud Honggi with their thesis revisions, Junghoon didn’t have anyone else visit him in the library except for Lynn, which he didn’t mind that much. Discomfort is far from the word he would describe her presence. It was more or less fascinating. She’d ask for books whenever she can’t find something. He would comply in almost an instant.

“Have some, sunbae,” she hands him a cold bottle of caffeinated green tea.

In fact, he appreciated it, even before he realized what her moves were suggesting. He is that slow, but he managed to catch it, for her own sake.

“Oh…” He takes the bottle with some hesitation, but his own thirst has compelled him to crack it open with a sense of urgency. “Kamsahaeyo, Lynn-ah.”

Having someone as company wasn’t new to him. But it was refreshing, to put it simply. Not just because she’s a new face, but it is because she stayed with him during his late night shifts when anyone else in his life was occupied with their own personal affairs.

“If you’re gonna be here every night, you don’t have to keep calling me sunbae.”

She places her finger on her chin as she ponders. “Soooooooo… Junghoon-oppa, then?”

His sip hits the wrong pipe, causing him to let out a few coughs. Lynn rushes to her bag, unzipping the lowermost compartment to get a pack of wipes.

“Gomawo,” Junghoon takes them from her hand, quickly wiping the juice off his lips.

“Mianhaeyo, sunbaenim,” she can't help but slightly bow her head out of guilt.

“Gwenchana, gwenchana, Lynn,” he waves his hand. “It’s not your fault, it’s just…”

She keeps her hands clasped. “It’s because I like you, Geum-sunbaenim…”

And there she goes. The man’s been silenced by her words, mentally and verbally.

Her heartbeat grows even louder, having confessed those words to him. Junghoon’s heart is not that different—his palms slowly sweating around the already damp bottle. Lynn’s eyes suddenly become more captivating. Her lips appear redder. He knows well that her body isn't his business, but his eyes are already trapped by how striking, even a bit more revealing than before, her dress is; not to mention her stronger and enchanting spring-themed perfume. The woman’s confidence has captured him, and he’s more than willing to surrender to it. “I, umm, I like you too, Lynn…” Slowly, his lips curve upwards.

= = =

April and May became their courtship period, if that's still even a thing that people call.

For a start, proper dates have started to become a weekly thing for them after classes or outside their part-times. The first one was like most first dates. Awkward at first, but it ended smoothly. What made it more special was the fact it was on Lynn’s birthday. The second was a bit rough, not because of either one’s faults, but it’s more on their personal priorities clashing with their plans. It ended with their first kiss, so that compensated for it. The third date was better, even though they've only met up on campus that night.

Within those two months, the two learned a few more things about each other. Their mannerisms, habits, favorites. Junghoon would open the door for her whenever they entered the same building; Lynn would often buy him drinks or snacks whenever he’s working late. Still they always preferred meeting at affordable diners outside campus.

Now on their fourth date, they're no strangers to surprising each other with flirtations while facing each other on their table—but everything diverges the moment Lynn asks him the question: “Do you wanna head into my place?”

Junghoon’s eyes can only grow at the same time as he feels his parched throat.

As far as most of the dorm rooms he’s visited, Lynn’s place is pretty tidy, definitely more organized than most of his friends, Kotone included, though she lives with her family, so hers doesn’t count. Besides them, he hasn’t visited a tidier place since… The Mad Money Club. He brushes them off, reverting his attention back to his date while she’s watching the television… And stealing a few glances at him beside her… Just waiting and hoping for something, anything, while they’re on the sofa in the last seventeen minutes.

Lynn’s look has always enthralled him. Even if he couldn’t read her mind, something in Junghoon’s body pushes him to make the first move—leaning closer into her lips in the silence. With the remote control still in her hand, she extends her left hand without looking and presses the off button before tossing it on the floor, as her focus now shifts on his lips by placing both hands on each of his cheeks. Only following the desires of their bodies, Lynn’s lustful curiosity compels her tongue to stick out and touch his lips. Immediately sensing the sticky and slithery yet irresistible sensation from the woman’s mouth, Junghoon complies by widening his mouth, allowing his partner to initiate a dance between their tongues, having a taste of each other’s meals and drinks tonight.

With Lynn’s arms wrapping around his neck, their bodies lower down on the sofa, inadvertently pushing two pillows on the carpet below.

“Can I?” He asks first, even though the woman’s hands have already reached his crotch. Still, she nods at his question, allowing him to take the lead this moment. Taking off her shirt, he allows her to do the same to him. Junghoon leans to give her another kiss while his fingers trail up to his bra, unlocking them as they lock lips. Her breasts astound him, a reaction that even garners a giggle from Lynn herself. “Don’t just look…”

“Oh, majayo…” he stutters, forming an embarrassed smile. “Mianhae.”

He gives each mound a kiss, which tickles the woman with a titter. He stops to stand up from his seat, much to her confusion until she sees him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants in front of her, also encouraging her to unzip her skirt while remaining seated, lifting up her legs in the air while taking her panties off.

With all their clothes on the floor, both parties are now in their bare forms, awaiting for one to take the other to the next step. Junghoon’s pubic hair is slightly trimmed, but his partner can't take her eyes off it nonetheless. Seeing something real up this close is just different from whatever she has watched through her phone screen, accidentally or not. Her cunt is also unshaven, but it doesn't faze him. Yet, a sudden thought is only making him hesitate—because of one unresolved question.

Before going in, he wants to make sure. He has to. “Is, uhh, this your first time?”

With a look of hesitation and embarrassment, Lynn only nods in silence a second time while turning her eyes from her partner, whose mouth slightly opens at her revelation.

“Gwenchana...” Deep down, he knows he has to say those words to her. “I’ll be gentle.” Hoping to provide more comfort and assurance, Junghoon slides his right hand across her shoulder, inciting a relaxing yet tingling sensation to Lynn as she braces herself with another nod, instinctively biting her lower lip, as Junghoon reaches to his pants lying on the floor. Pulling out one packet of condom—he can only thank his overthinking self that he even bought one from the convenience store on their way here. Lynn’s eyes are mixed with excitement and hesitation as she watches him wrap the latex around his erect shaft. He guides her on the edge of the sofa with his hand on her head, holding his other hand.

His cock has aligned with her entrance. “I’m putting it in, okay?” he reminds her gently. She nods for the third time, just as he slides inside her. “Auuuuggghhhh,” Lynn moans, unable to contain her mixed sensations of discomfort and arousal, her walls tightening around this foreign object as a quarter of it has entered her. It’s as tight as—No—don’t compare, he snaps into his thoughts, fixing his eyes only to this mesmerizing woman.

“I’ll start,” he reminds her again. “Just let me know if it hurts—”

“Just do it, please,” she whispers. He senses tension and desperation in her voice.

Junghoon nods and, with his hands gripped on the sofa’s arms, he makes his first thrust. “Nggggghhh,” Lynn’s teeth tightens its grip on her lower lip, mirroring the sensation of her cunt’s response to the movement of his shaft, feeling the motion around her walls. Her hands latch onto his waist before begging “Keep… going” with her soft cadence.

The longer he maintains his rhythm, the more he can feel her walls loosening. With this, her growing pleasure gradually diminishes the pain she initially felt upon his entry—her body finally giving into her libido. Now that Junghoon is reaching deeper with stronger and faster thrusts, he finds more of her sensitive spots, as if his tip was able to find and plucks invisible strings with every plunge, triggering moans from Lynn as their volume grows by the minute until pleasure overwhelms her senses. It’s a sensation she never expected she’d feel with someone. “Oppa… I–I can feel it. I'm c--close!” she howls.

The man triples his own speed, desperate to catch up with the woman’s nearing climax. Without much thought, he leans into her face, latching on his lips with hers in hopes of slowing her down until he begins to feel the buildup rising on his shaft. As his voice of reason strikes fear through his mind in the final thrust, he tightens his grip on the sofa arm—before pulling his cock out with a grunt, spilling his seed inside the condom. As he examines it, it's soaked with little blood. Thankfully the latex didn't break, he concludes with a sigh of relief. But, I’ve gotten a little rough than I should have. He takes a look at Lynn, as she huffs and puffs with her eyes half closed and a smile on her face. Seeing her cunt also leaking with fluid, Junghoon leans close to her forehead, giving it a smooch.

Both gasping for breath in the afterglow of their hard night work, having overcome their own lingering misgivings and hesitations and felt each other’s bodies for the first time.

Aside from her smile, Lynn's eyes appear to water, yet no tears are pouring. “H-how… How was I, oppa?” her smile remains uncontained.

“You were… amazing… Lynn,” Junghoon wheezes in disbelief. “I hope… I didn’t disappoint… You,” he continues, still voicing his concern for her. “Or hurt you.”

She places her hand on his left cheek, feeling each other’s warmth through her touch.

“You didn’t…” she chuckles. “Oppa, I'm glad… my first time… was with you.”

She moves her head upward, reaching his lips one more time, fueled with more passion, expressing her exhilaration, now that they have reached this point in their relationship. It may have been her first, but it’s the first of their many private adventures, exploring almost every corner of their bodies inside this safe space in the months that followed.

= = =

Two months later. The Seoul State Summer Festival has begun. It’s only been an hour since Lynn’s performance with the rest of her team had concluded, a special event that received a thunderous series of cheers and applause from the audience. And no thanks to his own training and errands outside campus, Junghoon barely managed to make it in time, but even up to this point, he still can’t get that sense of discontent off his skin, holding a red cup and standing inside a clubhouse living room, where dozens of other students have been celebrating in the past half an hour.

“You made it!” Lynn cheerfully runs to him with her wide smile.

“Thankfully, I did,” he chuckles. “But I almost missed your performance, Lynn… I didn't want that to happen.”

“It didn't, oppa…” she reassures him, reaching out to his hands. From her eyes, his face radiates uncertainty, perhaps discomfort, trying to be concealed by his usual easy going gestures. “But, I know what’ll make you feel better,” she softens and deepens her voice.

He raises his eyebrow, sensing the strands of his hair stand up at her tone. “What will?”

She leans to his ear, whispering “Follow me.” Without another word, the woman walks out of the almost crowded room, compelling Junghoon to start following her before he can lose track of Lynn amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces.

This afternoon has been a wild celebration for everyone present. As they walk outside the living room, he finds the pool filled with crazed and naked folks, some of whom are drunk under the sunlight. After a minute of following the leader, Junghoon tracks Lynn down inside a storage room.

She locks it in as soon as he enters, surprising him with a new look, albeit one he's already seen earlier. The rest of her clothes are hanging on the coat rack next to the shelf. “You like it, oppa?”

Under her attire, she’s wearing the same outfit from her performance. “I saw how wide your mouth was when I had my solo performance…” Junghoon tries to deny it, but his stutters have gotten in the way. “So I thought, why not give you a little surprise..?”

Without his restraints and through her kittenish move, he gives his answer by hungrily pouncing on her lips, mindlessly pinning her into the shelf of cleaning supplies behind her, immediately moving her to the wall on their right before they break something.

While their lips remain locked and their tongues tangled, Lynn gently pushes him to the other side of the room, pulling down his cargo pants from his garter in anticipation just as he also pulls down hers. At this point, it's open season with what they’ll do, with the only restraint that’s been holding themselves back being their own imaginations. Lynn makes her next move; the heat within the closed space compels her to take off her top.

“If it's alright with you,” Junghoon stops Lynn with his gentle hands, guiding them until their clothes are only halfway off her chest, accentuating them. “Keep ‘em… Like this.”

His move intrigues her, but she welcomes it nevertheless. She looks down on her own breasts, making her lips curve upwards. “Where do you get these kinds of ideas?”

“I’m not sure,” he confesses. “I just thought you'd look good in it. Try something new.”

As minutes have passed, Lynn keeps her hands gripped on both the edges of the shelf, while her lover gives her cunt a wild and somewhat rageful pounding. He takes turns putting her breasts into his salivating mouth, as he nibbles on both nipples while his hands make their way to her ass, doubling the volume of her moans. Alerted by her, Junghoon takes one hand to cover her mouth while continuing his deeper plunges. Eventually, he catches her mumbling through his hand. “What is it?” he whimpers, releasing his hand to fix her scruffy and now sweaty hair to the side of her left ear.

“I’m safe—today,” she murmurs before mustering enough breath to yell, “Please, do it!”

Holding her onto her tender cheek as firm as he can, he gives a final thrust and fires his load inside her womb. Lynn’s final orgasm-triggered holler stops as her voice creaks into silence and heaves with peace—exchanging each other’s breath without complaint. Their bodies remain in embrace, with his member still inside her. Lynn tightens her hold of her, with her arms wrapped around his back, feeling the warmth of their seeds leaking while their chests are compressed together.

Junghoon leans in to give her another long kiss, which neither of them hope would end, if only his phone didn’t start flickering and buzzing loudly inside his pants, on the floor. He pulls his shaft out of her carefully to reach the device, leaving his partner with a look of concern towards him.

Putting his right ear on the phone, Lynn can only watch and listen to his polite responses. “Ne, ne, I understand. I'll be there in five minutes… Joesonghamnida, gyosunim.”

As the call ends after half a minute, Junghoon faces her with a face that she has and can only read as one expression. “We’re supposed to have a consultation with our thesis advisor. Mianhae.” Disappointment emerges on both parts, albeit different ways of expressing it. “I promise that I'll make it up to you next time, okay?” he tells her while putting on his underwear and pants. “I'm really, really sorry, Lynn-ah.”

“It’s…” She wants him to stay. Just a couple more minutes. Introduce him to her friends. Have a late lunch, even by themselves. Hang out back at her place. “It’s okay, oppa. Just work on your final requirements. Hwaiting!” she cheers on him with a raised fist.

“Gomawo,” he tells her. After giving Lynn a quick peck to her lips, Junghoon walks out of the storage room, caring little about any passersby in the hallway, and rushes outside the venue. Thankfully, there aren't any, for Lynn’s sake while she dresses up.

Left inside the room, she stares right at the door, with her mind going blank. Her index and middle slowly touch her own lips, forming only one deduction. His lips don't feel as warm as they used to. On the other hand, her sense of optimism hopes that this will be the only time she’s felt him ‘like this,’ but hope… It can only get someone so far.

= = =

June. Only a month has passed since their most intimate time, yet things between them have become… Colder, to say the least, as it’s blistering through the summer heat. Their routines would continue, but not always together. Junghoon ended his library duties. They would only text each other. Lynn finds more time to hang out with her closest friends, at least more than she usually does in the past few months. And despite his physical absence, Junghoon kept lingering in her mind the longer they parted in person. As her patience runs thin, Lynn would ask around some of his friends whenever she crossed paths with them on campus.

“I haven’t seen him today, no. Not even last week,” Hyerin told her on Monday, moments after their practice. “Is everything alright with you two, unnie?”

“Unfortunately, no, Lynn-ssi. We’ve only been texting lately, ‘cause our schedules are too different.” On Tuesday, she asked Kim Myungsoo, whom she only knew was taking his masters degree. “Do you want me to call him up? I can tell him you—” She politely declined, realizing that she’s not the only one who he has been seeing a lot less lately.

“Oppa’s been very busy, unnie.” Soomin didn’t have much to tell her on Wednesday. “Even after his thesis with Honggi-oppa worked out, he kept working and working. My parents tried to talk him out of it, but I’m not sure if he even listened... Wait, did he not tell you?” Of course, she wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t have told her either. But Soomin is his family. She’s his cousin, her mind justifies.

On Thursday, she spotted Honggi outside the Tourism and Hotel Management Building. “He didn’t tell you? He’s been cooking for the training center for a month now. Most of his training ended in April, but he wanted a gig until graduation.”

On Friday, she stopped when Sion and Hayeon had asked to meet up at a campus café.

“I know I said that I liked you with him before, but I also said it to you before, unnie. With what's been going with you lately, I’ll say it. Junghoon-sunbae may not be that different from other men.”

She’s in a state of limbo, stuck with unresolved and unanswered questions about him.

“Hayeon-ah!” Sion slightly raises her voice at Hayeon, snapping Lynn back to their concerning conversation. “This isn't helping anyone.”

“It's okay, girls,” Lynn tries to de-escalate the tension between the two with her gentle tone. “He must have been working and training a lot...” She remembers all the things Junghoon’s friends have answered, yet doubt already takes over her mind.

“So have you,” Hayeon interjects, maintaining her firm tone. “You're a freaking dance major. You’ve been practicing for almost three years now, and yet—you still spent most of your time meeting up with him for three months, for some reason! Where's his effort to meet with you?”

“We’ve gone on a few dates this—”

“All you do is go on dates or ‘hang out’ elsewhere… But are you guys going anywhere?”

Not even Sion can keep raising her tone. She heard Hayeon loud and clear. “As much as Hayeon is too out of line… she still has a point. We just don't want you to get hurt.”

“Majayo, unnie,” Hayeon adds, lowering her voice out of respect as her eyes beg Lynn’s. “Think about yourself too, unnie.”

“I'm doing fine, Sion-ie… Hayeon-ah, we’re doing fine.” She keeps telling them, just as she keeps telling herself those three words.

Unbeknownst to the two, Lynn has seen a few glimpses of Junghoon having his own nightmares to deal with, but she was too hesitant to ask him about it. And he's not letting her in while his own phantoms and nightmares tear him up from the inside, making it more burdensome for her since her frantic mind can't help but speculate and speculate for days and weeks, while her friends can only watch her make up excused and voice out their worries for her during their hangouts or virtual conversations.

Ding. She finally receives a text, opening it within a second.

[Junghoon-oppa: Hey…]

[Can we talk?]

The woman swallows her throat, feeling mixes of relief, irritation, and nervousness.

Both the two senses her unease. “What's the matter?” Sion asks first.

“Is that him?” Hayeon asks, before taking another sip of her milk tea. Rolling her eyes, Lynn only types her response to him in silence. Sion slowly shakes her head at Hayeon, only glancing at their friend with concern while she takes a smaller bite of her croissant, unlike she usually does. As much as they’re compelled to help, they let this one play out.

[Lynn: Sure, oppa]

[Where do you wanna meet?]

= = =

Later that afternoon, they meet up at the restaurant. One they had their first ‘proper’ date in. There's no orders from either, only each a glass of water on their side of the table. Awkwardness and uncertainty spread across the air-conditioned atmosphere.

She takes a risk by shooting a certain question at him. “Have you been cheating on me?”

“No,” he answers. She looks deep into his dead eyes, he doesn’t seem fazed by her interrogation, even if they both know it came out of nowhere. “I wasn't.”

“Who is Hyerin-ssi to you?” she continues pushing through. “And that other woman?”

She herself has known Hyerin. But not as much as Hyerin knows Junghoon. As much as she knows Junghoon from Hyerin, or any other friends he’s had on campus. Since their second date, a lot of new things she’s heard and learned about him were from them.

“Yubin? They’re both my friends… Lynn, I've known them since I was a sophomore.”

Lynn is aware of that, considering Junghoon has told her since they first got acquainted. Nothing she’s learned about him seems to raise a red flag, because she’s witnessed those things about him, and it’s what’s been bothering her for a while—eating her from inside.

She knows this won't lead anywhere else, even if she keeps accusing him of things. Even if he is only opening up now and answering all her questions, it is not helping her regain her trust towards him. Towards herself. If they’ve only talked about these things earlier.

“Oh…” She freezes in silence, slowly realizing her own misstep. “But I don’t know if I can believe that. Believe you.” Yet her pride keeps her going. Going past her voices of reason.

“You don’t have to…” he shoots back, maintaining his lower tone. Her eyes slowly darted at him, trying to read his face. Through his soul, it’s as if she feels Junghoon’s loneliness. “And I know we haven't spent more time lately, but can we just talk—”

“Talk about what?” A hint of annoyance and bitterness mixes in with her tone, having had enough of his innocent voice, which kept on enticing her since the night they met.

“About this,” he sighs. “About whatever’s going on with us.”

Her eyes widened. Hearing those words It's inevitable, he realizes. “What about us?”

He clenches his hands under the table, mirroring the feeling of his own tightening heart. “What do you feel about us..? About me?”

She wants to tell him how much she has loved his company. His touch. His voice. His presence. “You've barely opened up to me.” She’s realized what his question insinuates. “I just, I don’t even know how to feel because you wouldn’t tell me what’s been worrying you whenever I see you worried… I don’t even know how you're feeling or what you have been up to lately.”

The moments they’ve had throughout the months, she’s explored every corner of his face and body. Yet as a person, she knows little of him, beyond some of his favorite things or his interests. Just this point—a realization strikes her. She doesn't know what they are. Everything in the last couple of months has felt mundane, overindulgent—incomplete.

“I know,” he mutters, still holding his stone cold front together with her. “I messed up.”

“Why are you agreeing to everything I'm saying?” almost raising her voice, clawing the wooden surface of the table. As her hands clench, her long nails leave their marks. The customers nearest to them can only peek a glance at them, but this pair can’t care less.

“Because you're right…” His voice almost cracks. “You didn't deserve any of this. You're a sweet and kind woman, Lynn-ah. And I took you for granted… I was being selfish. I’m at fault for not paying attention, for not finding and making more time to be with you as much as you have with me. For not being open with you enough.”

Silence follows their table for a moment. He has taken her words right out of her mouth, and she can only let him speak out with a disheartened spirit. He’s given up, she dreads.

“Look me in the eye… And tell me if this is still something that you wanna keep going.”

Through his eyes, she catches a glimpse of his soul. There’s nothing to read between the lines. Just hints of fatigue, loneliness, insecurity. There are no words for her to counter. Her beating heart yearns to say ‘yes’ till her mind stops her from doing so, encouraging her instead to consider his sincere words. For her to listen to her own reason.

“You know too,” he surmises in her absence of a response. “There's nothing to have from this. I don't want you to keep getting hurt and disappointed because of my excuses.”

“They weren't excuses,” she tries to defend him, quickly picking up the shrapnel of his crumbling façade, even if his continuous barrage of discouragement keeps on prickling and piercing her confidence from the inside. “They’re not even lies.”

“What do you call them then? False promises?” he sighs in discontent. “In the last few months, that’s all I could give you while you gave more than company and attention.”

Even if her mouth can’t say it to him, her heart doesn't regret any of it. ”So have you. Did you just throw away all those memories, all those moments we’ve had, from your mind?”

“I didn’t…” he looks down, still racked with guilt. “But will those things be all that we do? Will you be fine with that, Lynn? Will your friends even be okay with that?”

A burning sensation surges through her voice. “Why the hell would my friends care if—”

Lynn halts herself, realizing the error of her own words. Even Junghoon is in disbelief. The woman can only cover her face with both her palms—groaning at her own actions. Sion or Hayeon will let it slide if they hear her say it, but she won’t ever forgive herself. She knows that leaving her best friends for some guy she’s seeing is the last thing she’s doing. Even if it’s someone like Junghoon.

She lets out a chuckle. “We've been pretending like things are fine, aren’t we? At least, I am. And we still kept on going, dinners, sleepovers, sex, and all that... For a second, I’ve forgotten my friends, while we forgot how to act like a normal couple. I’m not even sure if we were one to begin with.”

Junghoon himself doesn't have an answer for her last sentiment. He can only hear his own heart beating faster.

“What am I to you, oppa?” she continues, her deepest, more hopeful yet desperate self craving words and phrases. Someone he wants to spend more time with. Someone he wants to fight for. Someone he wants to make up with. Someone he wants to love.

But he looks up to her, his eyes now radiating with guilt and sorrow. “I—I’m not sure…”

She feels a pang in her heart, hurting with every beat the longer she faces him. Voices in her think in various ways to cope with the inevitable, as facts and her speculations clash. Cheating would have been better. Maybe he is, we should keep going. It doesn't matter. He's leaving, anyway. But that doesn't mean we can't stay together! I hate this feeling, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels like shit right now, even though I’m the one getting dumped after all. There’s no point in fighting him over this. She thought she’d felt something special with him. Now, she realizes… They’re not different from others.

Yet, with all the conflict going on in her mind and heart, she simply straightens her posture and looks up to him with a soft smile on her face. “Geurae… Let's end this.”

Her response confounds Junghoon, contrary to what he’s been bracing himself for. Her smile doesn’t match with her watery eyes, racking him up with more guilt as he pushes through, feeling that whatever he could’ve done better wouldn’t make much difference.

“I felt like I was using you, and I didn't keep up with you… I'm sorry for not being—”

“You weren’t,” she interrupts him. “I could argue the same thing with myself… I know you weren't my first, but you were still the first one who treated me like I was enough. Like I was worthy of being loved.”

His eyes widened at her confession, the impulsive region of his mind urging him to say that she’s worthy of love. But not the other way around, as it's something he can't give.

“Still, I understand what you mean,” she continues. “About us not spending too much time together. Our lives haven't been aligning with our plans, I get it. With whatever I wanted to see ourselves... With whatever we don’t… I think it’s better this way, oppa.”

They both knew whatever they had wasn’t love. But they’ll have to live with that truth. They rushed in, and they made a fool of themselves for not handling the consequences now that they’ve reached this point.

She offers his hand, much to his surprise. “It was nice knowing you, Geum Junghoon.” She has nothing left to gain if she keeps up this front, only what remains of her pride. Even though it's already been shattered by their cold and rough yet honest exchange.

Junghoon hesitantly takes her hand. Slowly, he gets up from his seat, his somber face remains as he looks down to face her. “Take care, Lynn-ah…”

Lynn gives him one final look, hiding through her smile. “You too, Junghoon-oppa...”

Without him around, Lynn slowly feels moisture building up on her vision while the beats on her chest slows down, becoming heavier—like an anchor plummeting on the seafloor, over and over again. She knows this feeling will pass; she knows there was no love between them, but she has already been overwhelmed by the silent yet tumultuous clashing of different emotions in her heart. Outside, Junghoon walks along the sidewalk as his tears drip down, yet his face remains stone cold. He knows he's broken someone's heart, and he can't take that back. Inside the restaurant, muffled whimpers grow louder.

The sun starts to sink on the horizon as the purple skies hover above a sleepless Seoul.

= = =

A couple of weeks later, Junghoon finally graduates with flying colors, accompanied by his closest friends and relatives with a humble smile. Lynn goes with her morning class with her friends, but not without catching his presence from afar. From the fourth floor of their building, she looks at the window, seeing the outdoor stage, still swarming with graduates yet somehow, her eyes catch Junghoon walking with joyful faces she can only recognize as Kotone, Honggi, Myungsoo, and Soomin, while the rest appear new to her. She barely knew any of them. Maybe in another life, that was the case. In a warmer, less rushed, and more balanced season, she’d probably get along well with him and his small social circle.

Such a wishful thought allows a soft smile to form on her face, trying to ease the pain that is now simmering through her still recovering heart.

“Lynn-chan!” She hears Sion’s high-pitched voice before turning around to see her and Hayeon standing next to the pair of doors, waiting for her while the remainder of their classmates flock outside. “It’s lunch break… You coming with us or not..? They have a new milk tea at the bakery. I don’t wanna miss out on their restacked soufflés either!”

But enough what ifs… Enough of him and his friends. She has her own.

She chuckles out of embarrassment, pushing herself to wrap up her bags in a rush and rush to their spot. “Mianhae, mianhae, girls… It’ll be my treat, arasseo? Both of you.”

“Daebak! You should know that’s one deal we definitely can’t say no to now, unnie,” Hayeon cheers on just as she rushes out through the open doors while wearing her brown, spiky-textured backpack. “Gaja!”

Sion can only give her friend a comforting and empathetic smile, rubbing her back. Lynn expresses her gratitude with a smile and her watery eyes, yet not a drop of tear has fallen out of them. “You doing okay?” she asks.

“I—uhhh—I don’t know,” she admits. “But… I am feeling better, I guess.”

“It will get better, Lynn-chan,” she reassures. “Don’t hesitate to tell us about it, okay?”

“Gomawo,” Lynn nods, pulling herself and wrapping her arms around her dear friend. “You know, I don't think I can get through this without having you two around, right?”

“Of course,” Sion murmurs, offering the warmth of her embrace in hopes that it will heal Lynn's broken heart. “We’re always gonna be here for you, Lynnie… Whether you meet some tolerable bad boy or another nice guy with baggage, we’re not letting you forget your worth.”

They chuckle at her remark, before taking a glance at the hallway to see Hayeon still walking fast, now a few meters away from them. “Come on,” Sion takes a step forward. “You better not let Hayeon wait for us in the lobby downstairs... Otherwise, she’s gonna try and double your treat.”

“Hayeon-ah!” Sion hollers as they both follow Hayeon’s steps through the hallway. “Yah, just wait up, you hungry hedgehog!”

“The deal's off once you've made it to the elevator!” Lynn chimes in with a wide smile, remembering Sion’s advice just then. “Maja!” Sion adds. “You heard that, Hayeon-ah?”

Within seconds, they see their friend rushing back to their direction, prompting the two to slow down their pace as they cackle at Hayeon’s instant change of movement. “Fine!” she whines with a pout. “But now that I'm here, no more backsies, arasseo?”

To others, their short-lived relationship might as well be simplified as a spring and summer fling, and they’re not entirely wrong. But, to themselves, it is one that would shape their futures. Their seasons of memories and mistakes would mold them with their decisions on how they would perceive love, how they would act on it. How they would learn from it and live with it, even if it may hurt them in the end. Perhaps it’s better to feel the thrills of lust, the pains of heartbreak, and the hardships of romance—even if it may not be “true love”—than to never feel those things at all.

= = =

This went longer than I originally intended. it may also feel rushed in some parts, but I just wanted to get it done, even if it may not have come out amazingly.

Although this fic has always been my plan, I'll also write a lynn fic that's more hopeful down the line. I know it's a fic, but I still kinda feel bad lol, though this is my attempt at an angst-slash-smut fic.

Still, my next one (about someone else) will def be less angsty than this. However, for now, thanks for reading, and have a nice day!