#I know nothing about them yet but I have already decided girls' night out with all of the Phoraena sibs would be really funny

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

➸ masterlist

“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

➸ masterlist

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.

[hausofwoo]

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

[xprakzif]

tell him.

matthew sturniolo

parings: matt x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, mdni!!, cheating(i do not condone this), oral receiving, p in v, yea you know already..

summary: matt can’t keep his hands off of his friend, knowing she has a boyfriend. he tries to forget her but she keeps making an appearance.

lowkey inspired by tell your girlfriend by lay bankz

{the bf in this has a random name}

the first

being around the triplets since her junior year of high school created a close bond. nick being the one who introduced himself to her, seeing her alone sitting in the cafeteria mindlessly scrolling through nothing wanting to be anywhere but that place.

ever since, they’ve treated her like another sibling from what she thought.

“hi guys!” she exclaimed, walking up the stairs of their home. “this is my boyfriend, kian!”

a boy followed behind her appearing after coming up the stairs.

“y/n! hey, kian, i’ve heard so much about you!” nick came over to greet. she gave him a ‘stfu’ look, remembering all the facetime calls and snaps about her drooling over him.

“yoo! i’m chris, nice to meet you.” the pair joined matt on the couch where he greeted them with a smile.

“this is matt! he’s shy.” she poked introducing him.

“i’m not!”

“yea, even knowing them for years, i could tell them apart from the moment i met them.” she added to the conversation.

they were all sat at a table at top golf, eating and talking about things that made the others around them glare.

“i mean, there’s definitely features that y’all share, but i can tell-“ kian was interrupted by his phone loudly ringing. “my fault, excuse me.” turning away in his seat to not intrude on the side conversations as he answered the call.

the others remained talking about their looks and making inappropriate comments and jokes.

“sorry y/n, i have to go. my brothers car broke down again and he’s stranded.” kian explained gathering his belongings.

“again? he really needs to retire ol’ reliable. but that’s fine, just let me know when you get situated!” she replied receiving a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“it was real cool meeting you guys!” he farewelled, leaving the area after receiving goodbyes.

“wait.. now i have to uber home!”

“girl, you know you’re welcome to stay the night at ours if you want to.” nick reminded his friend as he wiped him mouth with a napkin. she smiled and nodded agreeing to his offer.

“you’re still hungry after all you ate at top golf?” matt teased at chris who was devouring the microwaved popcorn in his lap as the brothers sat around the living room with their friend as a movie lit up the room.

“mind your business!” chris remarked with a full mouth, throwing a handful in his direction accidentally hitting the girl beside matt.

“dude!” she screeched. he covered his mouth and looked away trying to play it off.

she poked matt quietly giggling as she pointed to nick on the loveseat who was fast asleep. chris took notice as well, laughing and decided to throw his snack at him.

nick jumped awake, searching for what just hit him. “chris- i swear! can’t even rest my eyes around you.”

nick stood up with the blanket wrapped around him.

“i’m gonna go lay down, y/n you can come in when you’re ready.” with that disappearing to his bedroom.

eventually, after finishing his snack, chris went to bed after the movie finished. matt glanced at his friend who was indulged in her phone.

“how aren’t you tired yet?” he asked.

“oh trust me i am.” she put her phone down and rubbed her eyes. he smiled, quickly looking away. she got up, making her way to nicks bedroom before quietly shouting, “night, matt!”

reaching nicks door, she softly turned the knob incase he was already asleep. the knob became stiff and wouldn’t turn fully. it was locked.

confused, she assumed nick just wanted to sleep.

the lights in the living room were off. she thought about going to chris but soon remembered he was most definitely knocked out.

matt couldn’t have been asleep that quickly. she tip toed to his door, lightly patting on the door. almost immediately it opened revealing matt in just his underwear. his eyes became wide unexpecting her to be at his door.

“um.. nicks door is locked. can i sleep with you?”

it wasn’t unusual, they all slept in the same bed once when their manager had messed up their hotel booking. this time matt felt different.

“sure, cmon..” he let her in the room. going straight for the bed, she layed down on the left side getting under the covers as he joined her with a slight dip in the bed.

the room was silent. the blowing of the air conditioner and occasional traffic noise cutting the silence. she trembled from the coldness even under the thick comforter.

she didn’t even know her actions were obvious until matt spoke, “you cold?” with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“a little- sorry.” she whispered turning to face him. “i usually cuddle with my plushies at home, don’t judge.”

his breathing picked up suddenly as he thought about his next question.

“do you wanna.. um- cuddle with me?”

she hesitated, but thought it was a good idea so she shifted closer indicating agreement. he wrapped his arms around her gently, taking in the various smells of expensive shampoo and sweet perfume. her head lied under his chin smothered into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

neither of them knew why their anxiety skyrocketed in the moment.

he couldn’t help but notice the subtle lighting from his window glistening on her face. it was so faint, he didn’t even realize she was staring at his gaze.

thank goodness for the angle, otherwise she would see his pink washed cheeks from embarrassment as he looked away. she tilted her head upwards, grinning as he drew his focus back to her, admiring her distinguished features.

something sprung his confidence strong enough to overpower the racing of his heart as he placed a hand under her chin, bringing her face closer. she didn’t react, assuming she was okay with the actions, he placed his lips onto hers.

the kiss was soft and loving. it almost felt like electricity through their bodies. she didn’t even think she liked him. maybe she just ignored the feeling, knowing his popularity wouldn’t allow them to form a decent relationship. she felt grateful enough to be as close with him and his brothers. forcing herself onto them was never the intention.

matt on the other hand knew from the start. they way she showed no deeper interest made him hesitant. he loved her personality and how she was introverted. it was easy to talk to her. once she announced her new relationship, his heart stung knowing he’d lost his opportunity.

she pulled back first. he thought he’d fucked up.

“i’m- im so sorry, y/n..” she was still in his embrace, not tense but comfortable and safe. he was confused.

“it’s okay. goodnight matt” she smiled and nestled into his chest.

he knew he wasn’t gonna get any ounce of sleep after that.

“chris! go get some napkin, i am not cleaning this up!” nicks voice was loud enough to wake matt up after hazily falling asleep a few hours later.

he had forgotten for not much longer about what had happened when he realized y/n wasn’t in his bed. he checked his phone on his nightstand seeing it was noon.

“where’s y/n?” he made his way to the kitchen where nick sat on his laptop while chris was soaking up an orange liquid off the counter with paper towels, seemingly close to nicks workspace.

“goodmorning to you too, matt!” chris mocked.

“she left early this morning. went to breakfast with kian to make up for yesterday or something. she didn’t tell you?” nick spoke not looking up from his screen.

matt leaned his body over the counter, “no- she slept in my room last night, since you were sleeping.” he felt a hot flash in his body remembering the moment before you fell asleep.

nick finally looked matt in the eye, “i wasn’t sleeping? i waited for her and she never came.”

“what? she said your door was locked!” he grew confused. did she lie? no she couldn’t have, it’s not like she meant to sleep in his room.

nick stood quiet for a few seconds. his face displaying confusion as if he was trying to solve the hardest equation ever. he grew excited once he figured out the answer.

“oh! i must’ve forgot to unlock it after i changed.” he exclaimed as calmly as he could.

“dude!”

matt thought he was angry for a second. this whole situation could’ve been avoided. was it a good thing? did he ruin everything?

the fall

“happy birthday dear y/n, happy birthday to you!”

her friends were gathered around the kitchen island of her cozy apartment. kian planned a small surprise get together for her birthday since she was far from her family and would celebrate with them separately.

she thanked the group and blew out the gold number candles as she cheered for herself gaining giggles from around her.

she went about the room, hugging each of her guest and thanking them for being there. once she got to the triplets she embraced them individually as she got to matt and he stopped her.

“y/n, i got you something- i think you should open it right away” he held a pink box with a white ribbon. it was oddly shaped and seemed fragile so she had him bring it over to her small brown sofa.

he placed it on the seat before sitting opposite to her to watch her reaction. the other brothers followed along standing over her to see what was inside.

she slowly pulled the ribbon until matt spoke, “i really hope it’s not too much, i just know you’ve been wanting one for this longest..”

the flaps lifted on their own as she jumped back, revealing a small gray kitten with green eyes.

her jaw dropped as her eyes began to water with joy. “no- you didn’t!” lifting the kitten free from the box. “matt! you’re unbelievable!” she pushed the container to the rug and moved closer to hug him.

“you’ve been posting a lot about wanting a kitten and i really didn’t know what else to get you- oh, and he’s a boy by the way..” he laughed watching her childlike expression.

“kian! come look what matt got me!” she called for her boyfriend who was chatting with some of their mutual friends. he made his way over as she held the kitten up in the air.

matt’s heart sunk slightly as she shared her happiness with kian instead of him.

no one was paying attention to nick and chris’s shocked reactions.

“aww, how cute.. damn i kinda look like a shitty boyfriend now!” kian joked obviously as she giggled along with him.

“what’s wrong?” she looked to the two brothers who were still confused.

“we had no idea he was getting you that!” chris mentioned as nick agreed.

“honestly, i didn’t want you guys to ruin the surprise with your big mouths!” matt argued playfully.

the night grew old as the guest died down leaving just the triplets and kian in her apartment. it wasn’t long until kian bid farewell explaining his early morning work schedule.

she already changed into plaid pajama pants and a white tank sweatshirt as she curled up on the couch petting her new addition.

“still not over this!” she referred to her present.

matt grinned feeling warm and accomplished knowing he made her happy. he couldn’t help but watch as she stroked the bundle of fur, giggling at each movement he made.

each person in the room jumped as a sudden clap of thunder roared. the rain was unexpected and loud enough to tell it was dangerous driving conditions.

“guys, you can’t drive in that. it’s storming,” her voice was of concern. “just wait until it dies down.”

just as she spoke the room became black as everything went silent. the power went out.

“shit! that scared the hell out of me.” nick yelled from his place on the couch.

“dude it’s freezing in here!” chris complained, although he wore the most layers than anyone preset. she had an idea.

“i’ll go get us blankets.” standing and turning her phones flashlight on.

“i’ll come help you..” a voice behind her spike as she shined the light right into his face making him cover his eyes.

“thanks, matt! chris hold my kitty.” she placed the kitten on his lap with no warning. he giggled at her choice of words as nick scoffed.

“okay, do you think that’s good enough?” matt was holding atleast 10 blankets in various fabrics and materials.

“definitely- why do you even have so many?” matt asked struggling to balance them all.

“i’m just a girl, don’t ask me!” she closed the closet door when her flashlight turned off on its own. she stumbled to find her phone before tripping over it on the floor, falling into matt causing him to drop all the blankets. they both landed on the bed not being too far a distance from the closet.

“i- ow, i’m sorry..” she apologized.

a flash of lighting shined into the bedroom window giving them both a view of each others face.

matt felt the familiar feeling in his chest, as well as a new one in his pants. she was lying right on top of him.

this time it was her who initiated it.

leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his lips to see his reaction.

he was taken back but knew what he wanted. he gripped her waist lifting her off of him and placing her fully on the bed. this time he placed his weight over top of her gently and moved his lips onto hers.

the kiss was different this time.

instead of loving and warm, it was lustful and rough.

it didn’t stop there, she wrapped her legs around him pulling his hips to hers. she felt his crotch solid against hers as he grinded into her.

they were so hungry for eachother they didn’t notice the light pattering of little paws stumble into the room.

continuing to make out, matt tugged on her tank top begging for it to come off. just before she started lifting her arms for him to remove it, larger footsteps entered the dark room along with a hushed voice.

“shadow- come back!”

matt leaped onto his feet after hearing his brothers voice. light beamed into the room as chris walked in flashing his phones light to find the kitten that hopped off his lap to explore his new home.

“there you are! oh- and there you are too” chris aimed the light to his brother and friend who was sitting on her bed. the blankets were scattered on the floor, but it was too dark for chris to realize.

“did- did you just name my cat?” she asked remembering him calling for shadow.

“i mean.. it’s fitting..” he said picking up the small feline.

“i love that! his name is shadow.” she cheered walking over to pet the kitten as if nothing happened. she didn’t want to act suspicious so she quickly changed her demeanor while matt stood frozen in his place unsatisfied.

a buzzing sound took place as the lights began to flicker back on along with the air system.

nick could be heard shouting in relief in the living room. “well.. i guess that’s our cue.” chris joked walking out the bedroom after handing y/n her kitten.

she glanced at matt, a soft expression on her face. he was flushed with red cheeks and puffy lips, his hair messy. she decided to walk out the room, leaving the awkward silence as he followed behind her.

“okay, i’ll see you boys soon- text me when you get home!” she demanded watching them collect themselves ready to head out.

chris and nick were already out the door just when matt was leaving when she called, “matt!” he turned with sudden movement, “hm?” he responded.

“um.. thanks.. for shadow” hesitating at her words.

he nodded. a grin forming on his face as he quickly turned away to leave her apartment.

the following

ding

the chime of her phone was loud and the light lit up the room. she was a light sleeper, but she always made sure her phone ringer was on full volume at night, in case of emergencies.

groaning, she turned on her side. grabbing her phone from her nightstand to check as shadow moved away from her chest to lay down at the foot of the bed, annoyed at the movements she was making.

matty: y/n?

she grew fully conscious seeing a text from him. eyes flickering to the left corner reading 3:15AM.

:yes?

the message bubble popped up almost immediately after being read.

matty: can we talk

she knew this would come eventually. though she wasn’t quite sure what part he wanted to discuss. it’s been 3 days since her birthday. 3 days since the incident in her room. the room she was currently in, on the bed she was currently laying on.

:??

matty: about thursday y/n

she sighed.

: matt it was a mistake

matty: in person

matty: can we talk in person

:it’s 3am

matty: i’ll come get you

matty: please

matty: i can’t sleep

she felt guilty. he couldn’t sleep, too busy having her run through his mind. she was tired, but if she didn’t settle this now, it would ruin everything.

: alright fine

the time flew by quickly. she found herself in an oversized gray hoodie, waiting for his text. it was long enough to cover her down to her knees, so she didn’t bother wearing pants thinking it would be a quick chat in the car.

headlights shined through her window before she received a message telling her matt had arrived.

she grabbed shadow and held him close, his little bell chiming as she bounced with each step down her apartment complex stairs. he was too young to be left alone, and who knows how long this talk would be.

the car door opened as matt nearly broke his neck to see her coming in.

“hey.. it’s cool if we go to my place?” he suggested, reaching over to pet shadow who was on her lap.

she wasn’t expecting a trip. nor did she dress for one. but it was a better idea than staying out in a car at 3AM. she nodded.

the drive was silent besides the radio playing lowly.

he let her in. “let’s go to my room- nick and chris are asleep,” whispering as he placed a hand on her back making her shudder.

matt and y/n were sat in the red sheets of his bed. shadow never left her lap, afraid of being in a new house.

“y/n.. i r-”

“it was a mistake, matt.” she assured him sternly. why did she feel like crying? she loved kian. though she was forcing herself to think about him in that moment.

“i don’t think it was.. i don’t think it was a mistake” matt pleaded. his voice was low but his tone made her swallow a her feelings down.

it was quiet.

“i love him-“ she chocked.

he shifted closer to her causing shadow to scurry off the bed.

“i.. i know.. but i can’t help it y/n, i want you.. crave you.” his tone softened as he cupped her face.

her eyes were glossy staring into his as he brushed his nose against hers wanting more.

she did it again.

it was her who pushed her lips to his. moving slowly with rhythm. now it was different again. this time they both felt careless. kian was far back in her mind, ignoring any thoughts of him.

matt was in a rush. he moved in front of her making her lay back. it was like her birthday all over again. he hovered over her between her legs, not asking this time and pulling her hoodie over her body.

he pulled back a little shocked as he scanned her figure in just a bra and panties. pupils enlarged with lust as he felt himself stiffen in his sweatpants.

she was flustered feeling so exposed to him. tugging at his clothing now, begging for his exposure so she wasn’t the only one.

he leaned back and undressed fully.

she was going crazy. he looked down her figure to her clothed heat, glancing back at her glistening eyes as he moved down on the bed. he was positioned between her legs, face above her area.

“can i..?” he asked, warm breath against her thighs as he gripped them.

“mhmm” she hummed eagerly.

he buried his head in her legs leaving kisses and bite marks all over. he slid his finger over her panties feeling her folds through the thin material.

he felt his nerves in his stomach, unsure if he really wanted this. he knew he did, but the thought of her ghosting him for kian raced his mind as he sat there hesitantly.

shadows bell snapped him out of his thoughts as he realized where he was. he knew he had to fall through, this was his only chance.

he hooked his fingers onto the waistband of her underwear, sliding it down her legs painfully slow.

placing them next to her, he moved her legs up spreading them wide.

she was sweating from the anticipation when he used two fingers to spread her folds, dragging his tongue from her entrance to her clit.

he sucked on the sensitive spot gaining a moan from the back of her throat.

“shhh, nick and chris are asleep..” he hushed. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

her head shook vigorously as she covered her mouth. he dove back in, continuing his previous actions. she whined behind her hand.

he removed a hand from her leg and sucked on his middle and ring finger before sliding them into her hole. he groaned at how tight she felt just on his fingers.

pushing them in, he licked her clit in circles quickly making her arch her back and roll her eyes. helpless to the whimpers that escaped her vocal cords muffled from her hand.

“‘s so good, baby- fuck” he grumbled against her setting her on edge.

her legs trembled and squeezed his head near suffocating him. she grasped the bed sheets tightly and her mouth flew open with no sound coming out.

he shook his head in a fast motion in between her legs helping her ride out her orgasm.

panting and trying to catch her breath when he came back up to hover over her body and kissed her with her own juices all over his face.

she pushed him away, forcing him to lay on his back and climbing over to straddle him. taking hold of his dick and aligning it with her entrance as he watched with his bottom lip between his teeth.

she sunk down with a whine. his eye brows furrowed at the tightness around his member and groaned.

“holy sh-” he could barley get out as she bounced herself on him.

they tried so hard to be quiet during the whole experience but couldn’t help letting out a few moans here and there. the bed was creaking with her movements. he felt his core heat up while his dick started to tingle with sensation as he lifted his hips harder into her.

he knew it wouldn’t be right to cum inside of her when she was with someone. she wasn’t his after all.

but the way he was feeling he couldn’t stop.

he threw his head back on his pillows letting out shaky breaths and grunts as he emptied his load into her feeling her clench around him.

she slowed her movements after realizing what he’d done. finally climbing off of him and laying down next to him.

it felt.. weird.

not awkward, but not wrong either. matt slowly got up from the bed and into the connected bathroom. she watched as the light flicked on and the sink ran.

he came back out with a white rag in his hand, “open,” he demanded getting closer to her legs as she bent her knees to spread them. he cleaned her up as well as himself.

when he went to toss the rag in his sink, he came back out to see her covered in his sheets fast asleep, shadow already curled up by her chest.

he admired how she looked so peaceful even after the unholy events that just took place.

he joined her carefully in bed, exhaustively forcing himself to fall asleep before he regretted what happened.

“yo, matt have you-” the door to matt’s room busted open as the pair in bed jumped out of their sleep snapping to the commotion. sunlight took over as they realized it was the next day. “y/n?”

chris was stood in the door frame. luckily she was fully covered by the blanket for him to see she was only in her under garments and gain suspicion.

“bro- what! what do you need?!” matt’s voice was mixed with annoyance and fear, a little embarrassed that chris came in the room.

“i was looking for my blue hoodie, but what’s up, y/n?” he seemed concerned at the fact she stayed the night, something she would do with nick when she was going through something.

“yea- i, um-”

“it’s behind the door man- her air wasn’t working in her apartment so i brought her over last night without waking you or nick” matt made up a story shooing chris away.

“ohhh- shadow!” he spotted the gray kitten who was now on the floor after hiding when chris scared them.

“dude- go!” matt shouted, still tired in his voice.

chris scoffed leaving the room when he took his hoodie from the rack behind the door, slamming it shut. he was definitely going to nicks room to tell him y/n was there.

the pair looked to eachother. she looked away to find her phone on the nightstand checking to see the time was past noon.

“shit! i have to go..” she almost tripped over her own feet trying to find her clothes not remembering she showed up in just a hoodie.

“wait- let me give you a ride,” matt insisted.

“it’s fine, um.. kians picking me up..” she tried to whisper but it was loud and clear.

matt’s heart sunk. he didn’t know why, he should’ve expected her to go back to him after this but he wanted so badly for her to just forget him and stay.

he didn’t say anything while she gathered shadow and gave matt a quick hug, something she always did before she left their home, and walked out.

it’s been 6 days. no texts. no calls. not even a post on social media.

he hadn’t heard from her at all. he didn’t wanna intrude either. his heart kept telling him to call her, call her and tell her to just love him, not kian.

but he knew better.

or did he? because he found himself driving to her apartment.

the whole ride he wanted to throw up. he was so nervous and didn’t know why. he pulled up to her complex, seeing the parking spaces in front of her building were empty besides her car that he recognized. it was still early afternoon and people were at work. but there was on car. he payed no mind to it, pulling into the spot next to hers.

he sat in the car a few minutes to collect himself.

mentally hyping himself up and making his way to the door, he pressed the buzzer.

nothing.

he tried again, sure he had the right one.

finally hearing the clicks of the lock, the door slowly creaked open revealing her face.

“oh.. what’s wrong?” her voice was a bit hoarse yet filled with confusion.

“i-i missed you..”

she leaned against the wall, her body came into frame enough for him to see she was wrapped in a blanket. clear that nothing was underneath.

“matt, i’m a little busy-“

“who is it, babe?” a voice echoed in her apartment.

matt wanted to break down when he recognized the voice. it made sense now. the other car was kians.

“you should go..” she whispered. he peered over her head seeing shadow stop in his tracks while walking through the living room and stare at him.

matt nodded. he felt crushed and defeated.

maybe he should just let go.

the finale

“hello?” matt answered a facetime call from his brother.

“heyyy, you good?” chris asked.

him and nick went to a party while matt stayed home.

“yeah i’m fine” he had a little attitude in his voice.

he had a rough week. after he left y/ns apartment, he cried in his room. he couldn’t hold it in anymore. he hated how she loved kian and not him. he wished he wasn’t too late. he wished he told her how he felt before she got with him. then fucking her just made him more attached.

“matt?” nick said through the phone, music blared loudly in the background. he snapped out of it.

“what?”

“i asked if you wanted us to bring you fo- oh look who it is!” nick was interrupted, seen hugging someone in frame. a small girl. oh great it was her.

he wanted to just hang up until chris pointed the phone at her. she turned to see matt on the screen.

she almost punched chris in the arm. she felt disgusting. she knew what she did and she knew it was wrong. she couldn’t stand to see him and it wasn’t his fault.

“hi, matt..” she tried to sound as polite at she could but it came out a bit shallow.

all he did was nod his head in return. seeing she went off with nick, he told chris he was going to sleep and to not bother him before hanging up.

“girl- be quiet, i think matt is sleeping,” nick whisper-yelled. matt could hear him from his room. he ignored it knowing he would probably bring a friend home from the party. he went to back to sleep.

he woke up again. this time feeling hungry.

he didn’t bother checking the time, it was still dark out. he made his way down the hall until he bumped into something hard, jumping when he realized it was a person.

“ow- sorry,” he heard a girly voice from the darkness. a sudden light beamed as she turned on her phone flashlight. it was y/n.

he almost gasped in her face. her eyes went wide.

“i’m sorry, i was just going to pee..” she explained. still standing in front of him.

neither of them moved, just staring at eachother.

he couldn’t take it anymore. he grabbed her waist and pressed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her passionately.

her arms wrapped around his neck.

why did she keep doing this..

matt dragged her by her hips to his room, pushing her to the bed as he shut the door. she tossed her phone somewhere on the bed, he was already in just his underwear from when he went to sleep so he forcefully removed the shirt she had on that belonged to nick.

he was on top of her now, sucking on her neck sure to leave marks. he was fed up with the games she would play.

this time he didn’t care, he was rough and demanding. “turn around, ass up”

she waited as she contemplated her movements. not for long when he raised his voice, “now!”

she jumped, getting into the position where her bare chest was squished into the mattress. she could feel his fingers roam her area until he pushed two digits into her hole making her gasp.

he smacked her ass while he fingered her, the slippery sounds as she clenched around them. he pulled his hand away and used her juices to coat his dick as a lubricant. he pumped a few times grunting at the wet feeling.

she sat in anticipation until feeling his tip finding its way to her entrance, he slowly pushed in once found.

“matt- please!” she moaned into the sheets.

he smirked and slammed fully into her gaining a moan from both their mouths. the feeling of him in her lower abdomen had her nearly screaming, if it wasn’t for nick and chris being home.

the sound of wet skin slapping against eachother filled the room as matt thrusted into her from the back at a fast pace.

suddenly the sounds of a electric tune caused them both to flinch while her phone lit up indicating a call. she wanted to just ignore it. matt leaned over her body to see who it was as his breath hitched in his throat nearly making him choke on his own saliva.

he seen a photo of y/n and kian cuddled up on the screen along with his name flashing with a heart emoji next to it.

“pick it up.” he demanded. was he insane? maybe just a little. feeling euphoric in the moment he didn’t care if kian found out, he kinda wanted him to.

she ignored him and pushed her hips backward trying to get him to continue but he pulled out fully.

she reached for her phone sliding the call button over.

“hello..” she whispered.

kians voice could be heard over the silent room. “hey- you alright? why do you sound like that?”

matt didn’t know if he was pissed or jealous. probably both as he decided to push back into her while she was on the phone.

she held her breath, “i- i’m just tired-“ she let out while matt was pounding into her. she clicked the mute button on the call.

“oh, how was the party? you’re at the triplets house i see” kian noted as he checked her shared location before calling. he just wanted to check on her and make sure everything was good. nothing was wrong about that but what was wrong is she was being unfaithful on the other line. even worse, she enjoyed it.

clicking to unmute, “mm- it was good- it was good i had fun and yea- i’m here,” she drew out trying not to sound too wasted in matt.

she felt her core growing tighter with each blow knowing she was close. she hit mute before his next line.

matt grew impatient, gripping her ass intensely digging his nails in making her whimper, “tell him, y/n”

something about his words made her feral, her eyes rolling back.

“that’s good. i’m glad you have such good friends that’ll take care of you,” kian spoke. oh they took care of her that’s for sure.

“tell him” matt repeated in a more demanding tone, “tell him how good i make you feel”

still thrusting into her, she couldn’t take it much longer feeling the knot about to snap inside of her.

“you there?” kian asked with a yawn.

she unmuted finally, “yes! yes- i’m sorry- i’m so- so tired” stuttering while holding back moans.

“alright i’ll let you go, i love you”

she almost didn’t make her words out in time, “i love you too” hanging up immediately as her orgasm washed over, making her moan loudly and tremble beneath his touch.

he did the same, pulling out right before his load spurted out on her back and ass, dripping down her legs. they both were panting and sweating.

neither of them moved.

“i’m sorry..” her voice cracked with each syllable, “but i can’t..”

this took me way too long to write bc i kept putting it off LMAO

to be continued..

sequel

[sweetdispatch]

Written by a woman - L. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Written by a woman - Mae Muller

pairing: Luke Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Moments in Luke and his girlfriend relationship that made them realised, they are made for each other

warning: NSFW, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.3k

note: i had so much fun writing this! hope you're enjoy it as much as i do haha

---

She and Luke met in Michigan. Both were students searching for fun and nothing more. She had been in terrible relationships and lost all her hope to find a right man, especially during her college years. Luke was scared to open his heart because every girl was using him to get into his brothers. They were two teenagers with trust issues, terrified of another disappointment in love.

One party changed everything. She opened herself for Luke and Luke felt that she’s not gonna go for his brothers. Casual conversation turned to dates and later to relationship. They were soulmates despite coming from different environments and not sharing much of common interests. Their love can be summed up as right person, right time.

So cool but so kind

With that look in your eye

When she laid eyes on Luke, she saw the spark in his eyes. He was stoic yet cheerful. She couldn’t keep her sign out of him. He wasn’t blind. He felt her piercing eyes on him and decided to approach her. Luke was talkative and flirty. He was telling her stories to impress her, but he didn’t know that she’s already gone in him.

Luke was respectful, he hasn’t pushed his luck with her. He was way different from other guys who made her feel uncomfortable the minute, they started to talk with her. She found Luke as a very intrigue person. She wanted to know more about him. She asked him the most random questions.

After couple minutes of their conversation, she started to tell him about herself. Earlier it was all about Luke but now, she was the center of attention. She was telling him about her origins, her major and her hobbies. She thought that she might bored him. He was a popular hockey player, and she was just an ordinary girl but when she saw the sparkles in his eyes, she fell in love.

She felt so safe telling him all the stories. Luke was grateful that someone was looking at him as a person and not athlete. They spent all night on talking. He asked for her number and the next day, he asked her out. They say eyes are mirror of the soul and their eyes were showing it. Both were obsessed in each other, and they could communicate with each other just by looking into eyes.

And you ain’t scared to cry, what a rare breed

She was growing up in household where men weren’t crying. They couldn’t show their weak side. That’s why she always thought that women can cry. All her exes also never sheer a tear in front of her. She believed that they can’t show proper emotions.

For her, crying was like a release. When she was felt weak, mad, panicked or tired, she was bawling her eyes. It was helping her to settle her emotions down. She always wondered what men are doing to calm down.

When Luke picked up a shoulder injury and told her about it, he cried in front of her. For the first time, she saw a man crying. She was confused, she didn’t have a clue what to do. She froze in spot when this happened. She wanted to cheer him up, but she didn’t know what to do.

She asked him what to do and Luke told her that he just needed to release his emotions. He felt comfortable to do it next to her. She explained him why she hasn’t reacted and apologized but he laughed. He promised her that it’s normal and he’s doing this a lot of times. In that moment, she knew, he’s the one.

Your shoulders, your hands, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

Luke was lanky. Despite being an athlete, he wasn’t muscular. This changed when he joined New Jersey Devils. He started going more and more on the gym. His shoulders and arms became wider and gained more muscles. She loved him previously but now; she loved him even more. She loved dragging her nails down his biceps.

The thing she adored the most in Luke were his hands. They were so big compared to her. His fingers were insanely long. He knew about her kink on his hands and he used it to his advantage. He always had his hand on her. When they were on a walk, he held his big hand on her lower back or were holding hands. In a car, he always placed his hand on her thigh.

Their sex life was superior. She adored when he was fucking her, and she could mark his strong shoulders, later admiring the marks on his back. He loved to make her cum just by his fingers. With her, he learned that he has a thing for choking. When he was seeing his long fingers on her throat, he was going insane.

You can be rough

But it’s never too much

She trusted Luke, especially in the bedroom. He was caring and loving while they had sex. Although, they had unwritten rule that if he’s angry, he can use her. He was always giving her heads up so she wouldn’t be surprised. The minute he stepped back into their apartment, he was all over her.

She loved this side of him. She knew Luke would never hurt her, so she was letting him to have his way with her. Most of the times, he was deepthroating her and fucking in doggy style. When she felt freaky, she was acting like a brat just to see how it’s gonna end up for her. Luke wasn’t into punishment but when she was getting on his nerves, he would spank her.

After he was done with her, his priority was aftercare. He knew how important it is to show her love and respect, after he fucked her like a whore. He was always helping her in the shower and feed her so she could get back in strength. Later, he was cuddling her in their bed and whispering sweet words thanking her for this.

All day, all night

You’re on my mind

Since she and Luke started dating, they’ve been all the thinking about each other. Back in Michigan, when the lectures were boring, they’ve been daydreaming about what another one is currently doing. He was bad texter but on her message, he was responding immediately saying that he was about to call her.

When they were forced to live for a year in different states, they had been all the time thinking about each other. She was wondering how’s Luke doing in new environment, how his life looks like and how does he feels living with his brother. He was reasoning about her classes and exams, how she’s feeling being there by herself and if she’s still wearing his clothes all day.

After her graduation, she finally moved to New Jersey, and they rented an apartment. Living together hasn’t stopped them about thinking about each other. If she was working, Luke was thinking what’s going through her head. When he was watching hockey games, she was wondering which part of the match he’s currently analyzing.

All their thoughts were spiraling about each other. She could never get bored of thinking about Luke and Luke could never get bored of thinking about her.

You got me down bad, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

She knew she fell hard for her when all her future was going around his career. When Luke went to New Jersey, she wanted to go with him. How much he loved this idea, he knew that her education is more important. He was the one to force her to graduate university because she was ready to pack her whole life and go after him.

When she finally ended up college, she moved to New Jersey. She had better work options in Michigan, but she wanted to be closer to him. Luke felt bad that she’s sacrificing her career for him but at the same time, he was grateful to have her by his side. They were made for each other.

Luke knew she’s the one and despite their young age, he decided to propose to her. He saw a future with her and that’s all what matter for them.

[crushpunky]

drew tells actress!reader how he feels

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this takes place when they first confessed their feelings + contains some minor references to new girl, but you don’t need to have seen it

Madelyn and Chase sat on one end of the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting between the two of them and their eyes glued onto the TV. Y/n sat on the opposite end, snacking on whatever snacks they had ransacked the pantry of Drew and hers’ apartment to find. Drew, however, was in the shower, leaving y/n alone with the couple.

“Looking back at it, it was so obvious Nick was in love with Jess.” Y/n pointed to the episode of “New Girl” that was playing on the TV.

“What do you mean?” Chase asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I mean… the way he looks at her. It’s so obvious.” Y/n said, her mouth full of pretzels. Madelyn and Chase shared a quick glance between each other before giggling.

“What?” Y/n scowled as the couple continued to look between each other and laugh mischievously at some sort of joke she clearly wasn’t in on.

“No it’s just funny because…” Madelyn stirred her drink absentmindedly, “that is exactly how Drew looks at you.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. Drew? Drew Starkey? As in her roommate and best friend? The guy who was almost annoyingly handsome and charismatic? The guy she had been crushing on for the past few months? Haha. No. She knew Drew like the back of her hand, and she knew that he most certainly did not look at her, or think of her, like that. 

“Very funny, Mads.” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” A voice said from behind the couch. Y/n turned to see Drew, fresh out the shower, his damp hair styled messily and still dripping water onto his topless torso. He climbed over the back of the couch, reaching over y/n’s head to steal a handful of Goldfish. Once he settled, he glanced around at everyone, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Nothing, Drewseph. We’re just watching New Girl. Quietly.” Y/n said eyeing Chase and Madelyn harshly. The two of them raised their hands in surrender before returning their attention back to the screen. Drew slung an arm onto the back of the couch, his arm perching just behind y/n’s head and hand brushing her shoulder gently. Her body felt like it was on fire, electrified just from his casual touch. She tried her best to focus on the TV, focus on whatever was going on with Nick and Jess, but she just couldn’t.

She spared a glance at Drew for a second, hoping he couldn’t tell how much she was freaking out right now. However, she wasn’t expecting his soft blue gaze to already be looking at her. Their eyes met each other for a moment before both of them quickly turned back to the TV. Y/n heard a small chuckle and peered over to Madelyn and Chase, who both had big grins on their faces.

Told ya. Madelyn mouthed with a smirk and teasing raise of her eyebrows. With a sigh, y/n turned back towards the TV, her mind racing as she felt Drew’s fingers dance along the bare skin of her shoulder.

Once Madelyn and Chase had left, y/n and Drew decided to watch one more episode before heading off to bed, both of them not quite ready to end the night yet.

“What was going on with you and Chase and Mads?” Drew asked, his fingers absentmindedly twirling a piece of y/n’s hair.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked, silently cursing Drew for being so observant. Admittedly, that was one of her favorite things about him. How he always managed to just know what was going on with her, whether she was sad or happy or hungry or tired, he just knew.

“You guys were like shooting glares at each other all night and giggling.” Drew said, his eyes scanning over y/n’s face slowly, taking in every detail within the glow from the TV. Y/n lips parted for a second to speak, trying to think of what to say.

“I— they—” Y/n stammered before swallowing harshly, her gaze falling to her lap, “they’re convinced you have a crush on me and I told them that that’s not true.”

Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers stop playing with her hair and hesitantly looked up to see his face. His cheeks were a soft pink, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked back at her.

“Would you… like it if that were true?” Drew said gently. Y/n could feel her heart hammering, her eyes unable to tear away from Drew’s.

“It doesn’t matter how I’d feel, Drew.” Y/n whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

“Of course it does. I care about how you’d feel.” Drew replied, his eyes trailing down to y/n’s lips.

“Why?” Y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible.

“Because I wouldn’t want to make myself look like a fool when I tell you how I feel.” Drew whispered. Y/n felt herself let out a harsh breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. The skin of her shoulder where Drew’s fingertips brushed erupted in goosebumps, traveling down along her arms.

“And how do you feel?” Y/n asked, her hands trembling.

“I… feel like I can’t live without you, that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and that… I like you. A lot. A lot more than just a friend should.” Drew murmured, peering at y/n’s face nervously. Y/n gulped harshly, her eyes trailing along Drew’s expression.

This can’t be real. Y/n thought, her mind swirling as it felt like time slowed. She had thought of what it might feel like to have Drew look at her like this, to talk to her like this, sure. But that was only in her wildest dreams that she could conjure that up… but yet, here he was. In front of her, his blue eyes so sincere and his lips parted ever so slightly, his breath slow and warm on her face.

“Drew…” Y/n trailed, her voice barely more than a whisper as their lips finally touched. Drew’s fingers entwined in her hair slowly, pulling her closer to him as if she was going to blow away. As if he was going to lose her. Y/n snaked her hands up his bare chest, her thumbs running along his throat before softly running along the sharp angle of his jaw. Her eyes were screwed closed, too focused on savoring the feeling of his lips on her, his arms on her, his breath on her, his taste on her…

They both pulled away with a gasp, their chests heaving and lips swollen.

“How would you feel if I… felt the same way?” Y/n panted, her hand still resting along the hollow of Drew’s throat. A smile danced its way onto his lips, causing the dimple she loved so much to appear.

“I would like that. Very much.” Drew whispered, pressing his lips to hers once more.

[rogersideup]

I'd like to drop a prompt:

The avengers have a night off in Las Vegas after a mission. Thor makes sure Cap has his fair share of Asgardian liquor so Steve ends up drunk and wanders off alone. He meets our dear reader who just got dumped by her friend group and is equally drunk. They hit it off and decide to get married. The next morning both of them are confused but decide to make it work as memories of the night before come back to them. (Surprise surprise dear reader is from New York too)

‧₊˚✧⚁⁠♧777♤⚄✧˚₊‧

Steve Rogers X Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Steve gets himself into some trouble while having a night off in the city of sin.

Word Count: 4,717

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

"Miss?"

Flashing lights separated and splayed through the drying tears in your watery eyes, music and ringing from hundreds of slot machines overstimulated your senses as you simultaneously pulled your dress up and down in different places.

"Excuse me miss? Can I get you something to drink?"

Coming back to your senses, you turned around to face the bartender. "Yeah, uh..." really, you tried your hardest to think of something, literally anything to help move along the buzz you were already riding but no proper words made it to your brain. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. Can you just make it strong and fruity?"

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed, already grabbing bottles off the shelf.

Watching him masterfully work helped you zone out and relieved all of your overwhelmed senses. Pouring, shaking, more pouring, a garnish, then a fruity elixir of a bunch of liquids you most definitely could not pronounce was placed right in front of you atop a cocktail napkin. Not a single drop was spilled, even the ice was perfect.

Reaching into your purse, you handed the bartender your card and shouted to try and compete with the volume of drunken gamblers and rolling dice. "You can close the tab."

"Don't worry about it. This one's on the house, you look like you need it." He kindly denied your form of payment.

You chuckled to yourself. "That bad, huh?"

"No, but I know a sad chick when I see one." He noted. "Happens pretty often in Vegas."

"Well, thank you, I appreciate it." You raised the glass. "Cheers to you and all the bartenders making the world go round."

"Amen to that" He smiled before walking off to serve yet another drunken customer.

You sat at the bar on a little leather stool fully contemplating how you ended up in this situation as you looked out into the hotel casino and nursed your drink. It didn't take long for you to realize that the Vegas bartenders didn't take the word strong as a joke. Because every sip stung your throat and swirled your thoughts around in slow motion.

The speed at which your thoughts came at you didn't help the fact that every single one of them revolved around nothing but yourself.

What were you going to do now? Where should you go from here?

Drinking wasn't the answer, but not drinking wasn't the solution. Finding shelter in the Caesars Palace hotel was a good enough temporary fix to your problems, so you ignored that you were on the complete opposite side of the Las Vegas strip that you actually needed to be on.

However, getting to your hotel on the complete opposite side was the problem. Your shitty friends completely ditched you, or maybe you ditched them. The details were all so unclear, but the fact was they were all making stupid choices and you couldn't stand to stick around long enough to see the end results of them.

But now you were all done up in high heels and a small little dress in a city you had never been in before, notorious for sex, drugs and alcohol. Luckily, pepper spray in your purse and a back pocket full of self defense techniques that have been drilled into your head ever since you were a little girl were amongst some of the better choices you made tonight.

Then came along all of the dumber choices you would make tonight in the form of yet another fruity drink, and a tall, blonde man looking painfully confused at the roulette table right in front of you.

He was tall and broad, even more handsome than the massive statues of Roman men all around the hotel. But much like the statues around you, he looked like he was carved from marble. The muscles you could see sculpted through his suit jacket could've only been a result of a piece of fine art.

It was easy to pick up his wholesome sweetness behind his big blue eyes, that also did a lot to tell you how drunk the man was. He towered over the table and watched a few rounds, trying his hardest to understand what was happening. Much like him, you watched the ball spin round and round before landing in a slot.

Some of the players would moan and groan at their fate, while others would cheer happily and exchange loud laughter and high-fives.

Mesmerized by the game, you missed the glances the blonde man snuck of you. He really couldn't help it though. His friends had left him all alone while his capacity to make good decisions was at an all time low, and you were just so pretty and maybe a bit sad.

Another round was about to start, so the dealer started taking bets. Everyone around the table started placing their chips on a color and number, and the blonde was still confused.

He looked around again before his eyes met yours, and a stupid invasive smile smeared across your lips. When he noticed your friendly demeanor, he took a few stumbles over to you.

"Do you have any idea how to play this?" The man asked you.

Now you could smell the expensive yet deliciously pleasant cologne he was wearing, and you could take in all the details of his black suit.

Giggling at his cluelessness, you swallowed down the sip of cocktail in your mouth. "I do. Would you like some help?"

"I'm assuming you have to guess if the ball lands on red or black?" He asked as his lopsided smile and squinted eyes told you everything you needed to know about his sobriety... or lack there of.

"That's exactly it, good job." You nodded. "But you can also guess the number, or a group of numbers it'll land on. The payout at the end is based on how accurate your bet is."

"So what should I bet?" He asked you, having already built a strong sense of trust for you in the few minutes he had been observing.

"Oh no, that's not up to me." You shook your head before taking another sip of your drink. "You gotta trust your own gut."

The man's eyes darted around the table once more before his arms motioned to it. "But look around! All of these men have pretty girls telling them what to do, and that's why they're all winning money. You guys are so much smarter than us, and I'm alone so I need you to tell me. Red or black."

Usually, a statement like that from a man like him would have you rolling your eyes and cutting the conversation short. However, either your gut or the alcohol was telling you that he wasn't an asshole.

For some reason, you felt calm and comfortable in his presence all while being unable to wipe the dumb smile off your face. Something about his hair that was once perfectly styled now being a little jostled, and the twinge of pink in his cheeks made him seem so distantly familiar.

"Well thank you for that backhanded compliment." You laughed. "I think you should bet red."

He nodded, trusting your opinion far more than he trusted himself. "Should I place a more specific bet too?"

You thought for a moment, but you were in Vegas so... fuck it. "Yeah. Give me your chip"

The man happily placed the roulette chip into your hand, you stood up in one big sweep and started walking away from the bar. "Woah, don't leave your drink!"

Pleasantly surprised that he had your best interest in mind, you mumbled out a statement of gratitude as he handed the glass to you too. Approaching the table, looked at it for a few moments and tried your hardest to contemplate the best number to place a bet on, but once again no rational thoughts occupied the empty spaces of your brain.

So, you threw the chip on your favorite number, lucky 25.

"There ya go!" You used your free hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Good luck, Blondie."

"What happens if I win?" He asked you, smiling as you let your hand linger. Even with your highest heels on, you were nowhere near as tall as him.

"Then it's your lucky day, and you'll get a shit ton of money." You giggled at his question.

"And if I lose?"

"Then you're unlucky and you're about to lose some money." You snorted.

"That's not going to happen, you're my good luck charm." He declared.

"I don't think anything about my night tonight is radiating lucky energy, so I doubt that."

"What? No way! I feel like I've been the luckiest guy in the whole world today, so maybe I'm your good luck charm."

"I guess we will let the roulette wheel speak the truth of the universe tonight." You shrugged.

"Should we place our own bets on the bet?" The man asked.

"Like what?" You questioned, hoping this wasn't the moment the sweet stranger turned weird and pervy.

"I think if I lose I should probably call it a night and go back to my room because this is the drunkest I've been in probably 80 years." He stated. However, his words flew over your head figuring his drunken words were exaggerated, and you found yourself to be a little sad that your time with the stranger would be cut short so soon.

"I think if you win, you should stay out for a little while and have another drink with me." You smiled, going way out of your own comfort zone.

If you were sober, or maybe even drunk in a bar anywhere other than Las Vegas, you would've been caught dead before being caught to be so bold. But he was pulling you in faster than you've ever felt, and something about him felt so natural and warm.

"Deal." He agreed.

"Look, they're about to spin the wheel." You pointed at the table.

The dealer spun the wheel, and the ball was moving so fast that you could barely even follow it. Even as it slowed down and started to tease each individual slot, the motion of following the sphere going round and round was quite honestly making you a bit dizzy, so you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

"No way." The blonde stated. "No fucking way!"

His arm wrapped around you from behind and his big warm hands very gently shook the tops of your arms. "Look! It's on red! I can't see the number, but it's on red!"

You giggled and tried your best to keep your balance as he shook you around. When you opened your eyes you could see that the drink in your hand was sloshing around and spilling over onto the impeccably maintained carpet beneath your feet. But the loss of some of your drink was a small price to pay when the dealer picked the ball up out of the wheel and announced "25 Red!"

Simultaneously, you and Blondie let out little screeches in surprise and joy when you realized you had actually placed a winning bet. In all your years on this planet, nothing like this had ever happened to you. You never even won $5 on a penny slot, let alone a fat wad of cash that was being placed into the man's hands.

After the cheering celebration and laughter died down, he turned to you. "See! I knew you were lucky!"

"You trusted your intuition, and you won!" You noted with a smile so big and long lasting it was starting to make your cheeks sore. "Good job."

"Here! This is yours." He placed the wad of cash in your hands.

"What? No. You bet your own money, it's yours." Not being able to accept it, especially when you saw it was all $100 bills.

"No it's yours! You placed the winning bet, you knew the magic number so I want you to have it." He explained kindly. "You said nothing about your night was lucky, so consider this your sign from the universe."

"I can't just accept all of this money from a complete stranger." You denied once more. "You're very sweet, I would feel so guilty taking this from you."

"Fine, if you can't accept the money for yourself, how about we go spend it together?" He offered. "I owe you another drink anyways, then after that the Las Vegas strip is our oyster!"

"That's a little better" You agreed with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."

"O-oh!" The man seemed to be taken back by that statement for a second. A look of momentary confusion furrowed his eyebrows before a happy smile returned to his kind face. "Sorry, I'm Steve!"

You made a small mental note of his initial shock that you asked for his name, but your drunken brain didn't hold onto that for very long.

"Alright Steve, here's the plan." You rocked up on your tippy toes and kept yourself braced with a steady hand on his solid shoulder so he could hear you better in the loud and chaotic environment. "Half my drink just ended up on the floor when you won, so I'm going to order another one. Then after that, I somehow need to end the night at my hotel on the complete opposite end of the strip without getting taken or murdered. So if we can somehow make it from here to there while blowing through that money you just won, then I'd be more than happy to help you spend it."

Steve's eyes went wide in concern at your statement. "Where are you staying?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "My gut is telling me not to tell a strange man where I'm staying."

"Smart girl, but I'm not letting you walk down the strip alone at night. The people here are crazy." He challenged. "No funny business. Pinky promise."

Steve raised his pinky for you with a genuine look of promise and concern on his face. "Do people often trust you to get them to safety?"

His cheeks turned pinker, and he let out an adorable giggle. "Yeah, I think most people find me to be very trustworthy."

"No funny business." You lifted your hand and wrapped your pinky around his with a quick handshake. "I'm staying at New York, New York."

"Oh wow, we have a long way to go with lots of chances to blow through that stack." He smiled. "What are you drinking? I'll order you another one."

"Honestly, I have no idea." You admitted, smile coming back to your face.

"Okay great! That helps me a lot" The blonde laughed.

"Excuse me" You politely flagged down the bartender. The same one from earlier coming back, you showed him your glass. "Can I get another one of these please? And whatever he wants?"

You looked to Steve who looked between you and the bartender. "Just two waters please."

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed.

"What? You're not going to have a drink?" You questioned.

He pulled a copper flask out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "I'll drink more, but this is stronger."

"Oh, nothing here is strong enough for you?" You raised a brow, your smile growing just as lopsided as his.

"Nope. This stuff is special, it comes straight from another realm."

Laughing at his joke, as you handed the bartender cash straight from the wad Steve gave you. "That's funny, because I hope this is strong enough to make me feel like I'm no longer in this realm, so cheers to that!"

You and Steve sat at that bar for a solid two hours as conversation topics flew at the two of you unexpectedly fast. Each one new topic was short lived as an enthusiastic response would happily slip off one of your tongues, so excited that the two of you had so much in common.

Then, Steve decided to start the shopping spree. He offered you a hand to help you off the stool, which quickly turned into a protective arm around you, or ushering you the entirety of your time together. He knew that the men on the Vegas strip were pigs, but he underestimated how bad it really was.

But the cat calls, whistles, and lingering eyes were drowned out by the city sounds and the big flashing marquee lights that littered the sides of every building you passed. It was just as mesmerizing as the night before, skipping down the streets in a drunken haze with your best friends.

Now you were mesmerized by not only sin city, but the mysterious man you were following around as if you'd known him your whole life.

With a sense of childlike wonder the two of you ended up in silly places like the M&M's store, and the Coca-Cola store, but you also ventured into more classy designer establishments where you convinced him to buy a lovely new belt at Louis Vuitton.

It looked good, he looked good. You had to work really hard to contain the drool in your mouth as you watched him take off his old belt to replace it with the new one.

He tried to buy you a new bag, but once again you were being stubborn and were having a hard time accepting such a generous offer.

So, you suggested another drink. Just one more.

More sitting and chatting with Steve, you swallowed down the liquid in your cup while he shot the rest of the liquid in his flask.

That last drink was the worst of your poor decision making that night, or so you thought.

Because the last memory you had was sitting at that bar and really admiring him.

The alcohol had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy pink color that somehow made his blue eyes shine even brighter, and add to the wholesome energy you felt radiating from him.

Sweet, silly, carefree, handsome, safe.

Then, you woke up.

Slowly at first. Your eyes opened and the dull pounding at the back of your skull wasn't nearly at bad as you deserved. The air conditioning did wonders keeping you comfortable, the light peaked through the black out curtains, and your belongings scattered across the room confirmed that you were definitely in the right place.

You looked around more. M&m's bag, Louis Vuitton bag... Converse bag? You didn't remember buying shoes. Wait... how did you get here?

Only then did you wake up FAST. You sat up, and your heart pounded as you realized that Blondie was in your bed. The sudden movement made your head pound even harder, but the good news was that he was fully clothed and was sleeping above the covers.

You were also asleep and fully clothed, but both of you were in different clothes than you had on last night. That's probably what those shopping bags in the corner were...

Carefully rolling out of bed to try and make yourself somewhat presentable and aid along trying to process what happened last night, you walked into the bathroom.

Wash your face, brush your teeth, fix your hair.

By the time you came out, Blondie was sitting up in bed with his legs on the floor, shooting you an apologetic look. He was apprehensive, scared to gauge how sick and unenthusiastic you would be by his presence this morning.

"Good morning." He said quietly, voice deep and raspy from inhaling the dry air and residual cigarette smoke.

"Morning." You tried to be polite, clutching the side of your head. "What happened? How did we- how did any of this-"

"Nothing happened." Steve reassured you. "I would never take advantage-"

"Okay, okay." You nodded slowly, feeling slightly relieved. "Advil. I have Advil."

Waking over to the table in the hotel room, you grabbed the bottle of painkillers and a water. You opened both and popped two little pills in your mouth, washing them down with water.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember much either. It's been a really long time since I've gotten drunk. This is really out of the ordinary for me." He explained.

"I guess we're on the same boat then." You agreed with him before a couple pieces of paper catch your eye.

"I guess I should probably go?" Steve stated, but it was more of a question. This was the first time he ever found himself waking up next to a stranger.

"No, you stay right there." You insisted frantically, picking up the piece of paper.

Certificate of marriage.

Your name signed at the bottom next to another signature that read Steven G Rogers.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

You studied the signature, looked at his face, looked at the signature, then his face again.

In the table, there was a picture of the two of you kissing. Him in his suit, you in the dress you wore last night but also a veil.

"Oh my god" You exclaimed, so much information to process.

"What?" Steve questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Oh my god!" You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.

"What happened?"

"You didn't tell me..." You puffed out a breath, then an unexpected giggle left your throat. Of course, this would happen to you the one time in your life you didn't behave like a perfect angel. "Captain America?"

"Oh... Guilty?" Steve's shoulders sunk. "I introduced myself, no?"

"As Steve." You exaggerated.

"Yeah, I'm Steve." He agreed.

"Well, at least I was safe." Finding the benefit of the doubt. "Do you remember getting married last night, Steve?"

You passed the paper and the picture to him, and his face contorted into an expression you couldn't quite read. "...wow."

"Wow?" You questioned. "I unknowingly married Captain America last night and all you have for me is wow?"

"Holy shit." Steve looked up at you.

"That's better." You nodded.

"You don't look panicked" Steve noted.

"I'm not panicked because at least you're a superhero." You explained. "That counts for something right? Like people won't think I'm totally inane for marrying a stranger when they find out it's Captain America? And like... a superhero means you have people who come and clean up after you right? Someone can fix this right?"

You watched the gears turn in his head. "... I have to call Tony."

Tony. Who's Tony? Think. Superhero, avengers, Steve, Captain America. Tony... IRON MAN.

"Stark?" Your eyebrows raised. Steve nodded, pulling out his phone. "Now I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out."

"It's okay, give me a second." Steve said calmly.

You nodded, the remembered you should check your phone too. As he spoke quietly to Tony, you looked around for your phone before finding it on the night stand, flooded with dozens of missed calls and texts from friends wondering where you were. You quickly sent off a text in a group chat saying you'd explain later, and that you were okay.

Eventually Steve ended the call. "He said he'll be here in a minute or two."

"Oh, okay great." You said exaggerating your nonchalance. "No biggie. Iron man coming over to read my marriage certificate to Captain America."

Steve giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "My mother would be over the moon to find out I'm married."

"My mom might have me 6 feet in a grave if she ever finds out about this." You sat back down on the bed next to him.

"When do you leave Vegas?" Steve questioned.

"My flight is at nine tonight. What about you?"

"Flying home at six thirty." He informed you. "Where do you live?"

"New York" You said simply. "Queens."

"We both live in New York and we’re staying in a New York themed hotel? What a small world." Steve noted. "Maybe we don't have to fit in a divorce before this evening."

"I mean... you are very handsome so I definitely wouldn't mind staying married to you for a few days until we get this figured out." You grinned.

A small blush stippled his cheeks at your compliment. “You’re so pretty I would’ve never had the courage to talk to you if I wasn’t drunk.”

Just like him, you blushed at his admission, and giggled at his words. “This doesn’t feel like real life.”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a ring instead of whatever the hell we bought last night.” Steve thought.

You looked down at your left hand, and sure enough, there was a pretty ring on your finger. You lifted it up to show him. “Looks like you were two steps ahead of yourself”

“Oh, good.” He chuckled. “At least there’s that.”

Then, there was a knock at the door.

You looked at Steve with wide eyes and nervousness building up in your tummy at the thought of being in the same room with one third of the Avengers.

“I’ll get it” He reassured you, standing up to answer the door.

Before you knew it, Tony Stark confidently barreled into the room. Firing some teasing words at Steve, you knew the poor guy would never hear the end of it.

“Oh look, here she is!” Tony announced.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Stark.” You shook his hand.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled.

“Tony” Steve warned with a glare.

“Where’s the paper work?” Tony asked.

You quickly handed him the picture and the signed document that was on the table. Steve stood right next to you as you both watched him read over it, and evaluate the legitimacy.

Tony took out his phone snapped a few pictures, and made a weird face. Nervously, you his your face in Steve’s arm and he instinctively rubbed your back to comfort you.

Then, Tony started laughing. “Rogers you’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware, but what’s so funny?” Steve complained.

“It’s fake.” Tony said.

“What?” Your head popped up.

“Little white chapel, married by Elvis just for the gag type of thing. There’s no marriage license, it’s not a legal marriage.” He explained, handing you the papers back.

Both you and Steve let out a huge sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not that much of an idiot after all.”

“No, you’re still stupid.” Tony denied. “Out of all the people in the world I would’ve never expected this from you, Cap.”

“This is Thor’s fault.” Steve pointed his finger.

You didn’t understand how the god of thunder had anything to do with this, but you had no mental capacity left to even ask.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Just be on time for the flight home and stay out of trouble.” Tony told him. “Hope to see you around again soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

And just like that, he was out faster than he came in.

“I know Tony made it seem like everything is okay, but it’s not and I have a giant mess to clean up with the team.” Steve explained to you.

“Yeah, I’d assume so.” You smiled.

“Which means I really should go.” He let you down. “But regardless of this fiasco, and from what I do remember, I had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you want to exchange phone numbers and maybe hang out again when we get home?”

“I would love that, Steve.” You agreed.

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours. Both putting in your phone numbers and names before swapping them back.

At the same time, you both burst out laughing at the contact names.

Unplanned, he put his name as Husband, and you put yours as Wife.

“Ridiculous!” You laughed, walking him to the door.

“Maybe we really were meant to be.” Steve pondered.

“Maybe.” You agreed. “But in all seriousness, thank you for getting me home safe last night. I was really lucky to run into the right person at the right time.”

“Of course.” Steve grinned. “Travel safe, and let me know when you get home so we can set something up.”

“You got it.” Rocking up on your tippy toes, you kissed his cheek. “Have fun cleaning up that mess, Husband.”

“Don’t tell your Mom about this, Wife.”

You locked your lips and threw away the key. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 

“Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he���d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

[wholoveseggs]

Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt

Family Man

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff

ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...

In the early hours of the morning you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.

You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.

When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.

"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.

"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"

You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.

"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.

"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.

"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.

"We don't know yet," you replied.

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.

"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.

She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.

"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.

"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.

"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.

"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.

"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.

"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"

"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.

"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.

You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.

"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.

"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.

"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.

He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.

His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.

"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.

"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.

"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.

"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.

"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.

His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.

"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.

"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.

"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.

"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.

"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.

"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.

"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.

"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.

The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.

You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.

"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, they have," you sighed.

"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.

Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.

"How is Bex?" you asked.

"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.

"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.

"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.

"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.

"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked.

"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.

"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.

You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.

He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.

He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.

Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.

You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.

His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.

"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.

"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.

"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.

"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.

Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.

"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.

"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.

"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.

"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.

"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Can we play after?" she asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.

Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.

"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.

"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.

"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.

"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.

Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.

"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"This was my favorite," you pouted.

"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.

"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.

You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"You are very welcome," he hummed.

"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.

"Let's," he smiled.

When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.

"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.

She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.

"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.

Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.

Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.

"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.

"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.

"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.

"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.

"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.

"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.

"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.

"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.

Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.

"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.

"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.

"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.

Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.

You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.

"As are you," he smirked.

"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.

"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.

"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.

He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.

You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.

"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."

"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.

His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.

"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.

"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.

He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.

"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.

"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.

"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.

You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.

The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.

When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.

"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.

"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.

"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.

"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.

"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.

"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.

You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.

"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.

"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You read my mind," you grinned.

You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.

You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.

"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.

You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.

"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.

"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.

His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.

"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.

He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.

"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.

"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.

"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.

"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.

"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.

"As if that is possible," he laughed.

He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.

"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.

"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.

"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.

He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.

" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.

You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.

"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.

You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.

He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.

"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"

You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.

A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.

"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.

"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.

You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.

"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.

He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.

Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.

He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.

"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.

His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.

"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.

He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.

It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.

You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.

"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.

Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.

He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.

"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.

He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.

"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.

"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.

Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.

It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.

You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.

He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.

In the next life, and all the ones after that.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

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[pali-writes-atiny-bit]

Who You Belong To

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Summary: when you're at an after party and Chan doesn't show you enough attention you start acting up. OR wherein you learn actions have consequences Chan fuck the brattiness out of you

WC: ~1.95k

Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Established relationship, Dom/sub dynamics, degradation, spanking, spreader bar, name calling (Babygirl, princess, slut, sweet girl , pretty girl, baby, daddy), unprotected piv sex (please practice safe sex irl), hair pulling, overstimulation, squirting, aftercare (let me know if I missed any, please and thank you)

A/N: this just kinda popped into my head last night and I really needed to get it out there. Kinda sorta proofed but not really.

You're at an awards show party with Chan and the rest of Stray Kids. You've been there for a couple of hours now and you're growing bored. You're all dolled up but Chan has been too busy mingling to pay you much attention.

In your boredom you decide to flirt with some of the other male idols. Surely that will catch his attention. Although you've been nothing but appropriate, you're pushing the boundaries. When you catch him watching you with his jaw clenched, you smirk. You meet his eyes and see the dark warning flashing in them before turning away.

You're standing talking to Hongjoong, your hand resting on his arm when Chan comes striding over. He greets Hongjoong with a nod before excusing the both of you. He drags you by your arm to the side of the event hall with a grip just shy of bruising.

"Chan! I wasn't done talking to Hongjoong!" you turn to face him and try to pull your arm free. A muscle ticks in his jaw and instead of letting go, he tugs you closer causing you to stumble over your tall heels.

He hisses into your ear, "I think you've done plenty of talking for the night. Don't think I don't know what you you've been doing. I'll deal with you when you get home. You have 10 minutes before we leave."

A frisson of equal parts fear and anticipation surges through you. When he releases you and strides off, most likely to bid goodbye to the other members, you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Just what you gotten yourself into.

The car ride home was silent but you could feel the simmering energy crackling between the two of you. When you get back to your shared apartment, he ushers you in. When the door closes, he cages you against, hands on either side of your head, and kisses you deeply until you moan.

When he withdraws, he fixes you with a stare. "I think I need to remind you who you belong to, babygirl. 5 minutes. I want you naked and on the bed on all fours." He swats your ass as you scurry off.

You're undressed and in position within the first minute, but he makes you wait. You can't help the wetness that's already gathering between your thighs in anticipation.

After 5 minutes are up, you hear him enter the room. The bed dips down behind you and he sets something down. You feel the familiar sensation of a leather cuff being wrapped around first one ankle and then the other. He slides a few fingers under the cuffs to check the tightness. Satisfied you won't lose circulation, he clicks open the spreader bar and you gasp.

This is something you've only talked about, and not actually tried yet. The bar has wrist cuffs too, and he draws your wrists between your legs and attaches first one wrist then the other. Without your hands, you're forced to rest on your chest and shoulders. It's not exactly comfortable on your neck, so he props you up on a couple of pillows, then steps back.

"Princess, you look so pretty all trussed up for me."

You runs a hand over your perfectly presented ass and your shiver. "You were flirting with all those other guys, with Joongie, but they don't get to see you like this, do they, slut?"

When you don't answer, he lands two harsh smacks in quick successions, first one cheek then the other.

"No, they don't," you bite out.

Another smack, "no what?"

"No, daddy!" you squeal.

He caresses your flesh with his palm, lovingly. Reverently. "That's right. I think 15 more ought to remind you who you belong to. Count!"

He brings his hand down and you bite out "one!"

He strikes again in the other cheek. "Two!"

He alternates sides, sometimes hitting the top of your ass, or the bottom where it meets your flesh. By 10, you're sobbing and your make up is ruined with tear streaks. "Please! I'm sorry, daddy!"

"Oh, you will be," he growls.

By the time you reach 14, your ass is a beautiful red and warm to the touch but your cunt is absolutely dripping. He soothes your skin with his palms and you moan.

"One more, babygirl," he says. Your thighs quiver with anticipation. You steel yourself for the strike, but this time he slaps your pussy, finger tips just grazing your clit. You jerk in shock and scream "Fifteen!"

He runs a few fingers through your folds and moans. "Fuck, princess, you're absolutely soaked. Did you enjoy that?"

You shake your head vehemently, and he chuckles. "Your head says no, but your body says yes."

"Who does this pussy belong to?" he asks as he sinks two fingers into your wet heat. Your mouth falls open and you let out a filthy moan.

"You, daddy! My pussy is yours. Please fill your pussy," you beg.

He withdraws his fingers and you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling. He quickly sheds his clothing and your feel the bed dip behind you again as he lines himself up.

His hands grip your hips so tightly you're sure to bruise. You both let out a hiss as he pushes inside you, taking his sweer time entering you. You're soaking wet, but he knows he's big. You moan when he is fully seated. His girth stretches you deliciously while the tip of his cock presses against your cervix.

"You take me so well, baby girl," he says as he draws his hips back. Your walls grip his length, trying to suck him back in.

He draws back until just the tip is inside, before slamming back into you. He repeats these motions again and again, slowly increasing the pace until he he's pounding into you.

You cry out and he says, "Is this it? Is this what you wanted baby girl? You wanted me to remind you who this cunt belongs to?"

"Y-y-ye-yes!" you wail.

"I'm going to make sure this pussy is molded to my cock, pretty girl."

His words make you clench around his cock. "I want to cum... I need to cum," you beg, pulling against your bonds.

"You'd better hold it until I say, baby girl," he says slowing his thrusts. "If you cum without permission, you'll be cumming until you beg me to stop."

You want to be good for him, for your daddy. You're trying your hardest to hold on but his fat cock is hitting your gummy spot just right with each thrust.

"I can't! Please, daddy!" You beg. "Please can I- fuuuuuuck!" You scream.

Before he can grant you permission, he delivers a particularly sharp thrust that has you falling apart on his cock.

"Oh babygirl... you were so close. But you still came without permission."

He continues driving into you as your walls flutter and pulse around him. The sensitivity from your first orgasm has you quickly climbing to a second peak.

You mind goes hazy with pleasure. Each snap of his hips punches a moan from your lips which are parted and drooling. It isn't long before you fall apart a second time.

He stops thrusting, and places a hand on the base of your skull gathering a handful of your hair. Taking care not to pull your roots too much, he hauls you up against him.

Your eyes are closed and you're panting. Your walls still quivering around his cock with aftershocks.

"Color, babygirl?"

"Green," you moan breathlessly.

That's all he needs to hear before he begins thrusting into you from below. With the change in angle he's hitting a new spot inside you.

He threads his other hand in front of you and gently presses against your lower belly. He groans at the feeling of his cock pressing against his hand each time he bottoms out. The added pressure makes you feel so full. You're hurtling towards your third orgasm.

He can feel how your cunt is tightening, bearing down around him. He slides his hand down and circles your clit.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my cock again!"

You jerk at the contact and scream as your vision whites out and your hearing fades. You cum around him again, squirting and flooding the sheets below you.

You're shattered. Your soul scattered. You don't think you've ever cum so hard in your life.

When you come back to your senses, you're lying on your back. Your wrists and ankles are unbound and Chan is kneeling between your thighs, rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

When he sees you coming back to earth, he wraps your legs around your waist and presses a thumb to your clit. You hiss at the overstimulation, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

He pauses and looks at your with his brow furrowed in concen.

"Color?"

You're so tired and truthfully you don't know how much more you can take. You take a deep breath and whisper, "yellow, daddy."

"Okay princess. You've been so good. Do you think you can give me one more? Daddy wants to cum with you."

You let your gaze roam over him. You know that if you say no, he'll stop immediately. But you look at his cock which is red and angry, covered in your cream and twitching with need. He's so good to you. You want, no, you need him to cum with you.

"Please fill me with your cum, daddy."

"My sweet girl," he moans as he sheathes himself inside your core once more. He closes his eyes and tips his head back. "Shit, you feel so good princess."

His thrusts are slow, almost gentle. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He begins rambling as his thrusts grow erratic.

"You took your punishment so well. Fuck. My perfect girl. You're made for me."

You moan and clench around him at his praise causing him to groan in response. "I love you, babygirl. I'm going to fill you up!"

He thrusts two more times before he stills deep inside you. You feel his hot cum painting your walls and the feeling triggers your own release. You cum around him a final time with a wail, "I love you too, daddy!"

You cling to him as your contracting walls milk his cock. When your orgasm fades, you all but slump to the mattress, exhausted.

Chan extracts himself from your limbs and pulls out. He walks to the bathroom and you hear the sounds of water beginning to fill the tub. He returns with a glass of water and a warm, wet washcloth.

He helps you drink the glass of water and then begins cleaning you up, taking care with your sensitive, swollen folds.

You're mostly asleep by the time he finishes and picks you up bridal style. He carries you to the bathroom. With your eyes still closed you murmur, "I'm sorry for being a brat, daddy."

He kisses your head whispers "I love it when you're a brat."

He places you on the toilet so you can pee and then settles you into the bathtub. He changes the sheets while you relax before sliding into the tub behind you.

He holds you and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. And when you fall asleep, he dries you off, dresses you in one of his t shirts and tucks you into bed.

He kisses your forehead and whispers how much he loves you. He loves when you're a brat. And he loves when he gets to fuck it out of you.

@daydreams-after-dark

[bonkhrnyjail]

desert eagle

pairing: young joel miller x f!plus-size!reader (age unspecified, no specific physical descriptions other than plus-size and able-bodied) summary: joel gets reluctantly dragged to the strip club after a long day of work. god knows he wasn't expecting to meet someone like you... rating: explicit 18+ mdni word count: 8.8k (sorry) tags: thigh riding, oral sex, so much oral sex, ass play, 69, reader is a stripper, joel is down horrendous, JOEL MILLER LOVES BIG GIRLS, gentleman!joel, until he's not, sub!joel if you squint, joel and reader are both aggressively texan, i'm midwestern so i do not take responsibility for inaccuracies i did my best a/n: soooo this is based off of the beyoncé song desert eagle, the first time i heard it i immediately thought of this idea and i couldn't get it out of my head and i was having literal sex dreams about it so i decided to write it. this is my first time writing joel too so i'm scared :P anyways i love writing about confident beautiful fat women but i think anyone can enjoy this fic so yeahhh anyways you should listen to the beyoncé song and then read the fic or vice versa ok love you bye

Joel didn’t want to go to the strip club. 

In fact, Joel wants nothing more than to be alone tonight, and yet he finds himself uncomfortably perched on the edge of a half-crescent booth, dragged along by Tommy and some of the idiot twenty-somethings he’d met on their most recent project.  

“Loosen up, old man!” one of the cocky landscapers barked at him when he tried to decline. “A pretty pair a’ tits in your face’ll turn that frown right upside down!”

He almost did say no, almost played the foolproof dad card; unfortunately for him, Sarah had already planned to stay at her best friend’s house the next few nights, taking advantage of the last week of winter break. But he saw the premature wince forming in Tommy’s eye, waiting for the inevitable sting of Joel ruining his chances at making some semi-decent friends in this town—friends that wouldn’t land him behind bars on the weekend, anyways. So Joel surrendered with a begrudging grunt, under the terms that he could stop by home to shower and change clothes. Miraculously, he convinced the other guys to do the same.

Inside, violet and teal spotlights cast a thick fog across the large stage. It illuminates the performers whilst somehow clouding them too, their bodies winding and whirling in a periwinkle haze. Joel’s skin feels humid and suffocated beneath the clinging fabric of his flannel shirt; the glass of Jack Daniels he’d spent the last ten minutes nursing only abets the formation of dew trickling down his neck and spine. The only thing keeping him cool is the wet curls he slicked back sitting at the base of his skull, providing a momentary chill with any slight breeze. He feels claustrophobic, displaced; like his presence was altogether a clumsy wedge into somewhere he didn’t quite belong. 

Nothing another glass of whiskey couldn’t fix.

Joel excuses himself from the group without much notice. The boys are hovering over a meaty stack of ones, attempting to divvy up the bills in even increments without having to count them out individually. He strides across the room with a languid ease, scanning the room and the scattered clusters of men, appeasing his unconscious instinct to confirm safety wherever he is—and to keep tabs on the people he should keep Tommy away from. He stops short for a moment, palming his pocket to confirm his wallet and keys haven’t left his side.

“Pardon me, honey.” 

A soft, seductive drawl takes him by surprise as a hand on his lower back guides him inches to the left. It takes a moment for his vision to focus, the crisp snap of his neck to follow the voice leaving a slight dizziness in its recoil, the trailing scent of cinnamon and honey wafting beneath his nose. 

When he finally sees you, actually sees you, Joel finds himself powerless to avert his gaze. Your body is awash with exquisite peaks and valleys, velvet curves clad only by precarious strings and swatches of fabric covering mere inches of glistening skin. The clack of your heels leaves him hypnotized as you leave him in your wake. His jaw slackens and his lungs become paralyzed as he witnesses the way your body moves like water with every step; like the current that flows across the edges of your figure, rippling as you step onto the stage and coil yourself around the silver pole.

Good god.

The bones in Joel’s knees suddenly turn gelatinous, a huff of air escaping his mouth as he stumbles backward into the bar, bracing himself with flat palms against the polished marble. He steadies himself, blinking out the sting beneath his lids, trying to moisten the dryness in his eyes—a consequence of his bulging stare.

A soft giggle lilts from behind him, piercing through his trance and hammering his conscience back into the earth. Joel turns to the source to find the bartender, shaking her head with laughter as she drags the rim of a glass through a bowl of salt.

“Don’t worry, ain’t the first time I’ve seen a man nearly lose his footin’ around Paloma,” she jeers, a smirk threatening the corners of her mouth. “She’s really somethin’, that girl.”

Joel nods, clears his throat, and swallows the saliva that pools at the back of his tongue. Somethin’ was an understatement, an insult to the ethereal vision twirling before him. The fog and dusky lighting prevents him from capturing a defined image of your face, only catching glimpses of soft cheeks and plush lips as you spin and float with ease, but he’s certain you’re breathtaking.

“You want another Jack?” the bartender offers, pouring out a picture-perfect margarita, the lime hue nearly fluorescent in the lowlight.

Joel grunts in affirmation, his eyes not once straying from your direction.

“Not much of a talker, are ya?” she ribs, chuckling as she reaches for the whiskey.

“Sorry, long day,” Joel winces, suddenly painfully aware of how rude he’s been. “Is she, uh, new ‘round here?” 

“Who, Paloma? Been ‘round for about… six months or so? She’s done real well for herself, honestly blew all us away with how much she was able t’make from the jump.”

He bites down on the tip of his tongue, a sharp, electrifying pain searing through his nerves. It does nothing to fracture the beguiling spell you’ve somehow cast upon him, and Joel finds himself staring again, studying your every move, knowing nothing but need.

“Do you know if she… when she’s done here? Her shift, I mean.”

The bartender laughs exuberantly, a wide smile revealing a far-too-pristine row of pearly veneers that nearly glow under the lilac beams.

“Well, I don’t think I can tell you that, sugar,” she coos, sliding Joel’s drink across the space between them. “But you can ask her yourself! I promise, she don’t bite. Sweet as honey, that one.”

Honey. 

It still lingers in the air, thick and cloying in a way that grips like a hand wrapped around his throat, like a demanding croon singing over and over: Eyes on me. He can taste it too, a whisper of it stagnant on the back of his tongue, a lurking craving impatiently waiting to be satiated.

Joel thanks her in a low gravel, and strides back towards his table with newfound urgency nipping at his heels. He arrives at the booth with no reaction from the boys, the party too enveloped in counting their stack to be stirred by his presence. It’s only when Joel clears his throat, the force of it deep and thunderous, that the men take any notice.

“I’m gonna need me some of those.”

.   .   .   .   .

You didn’t expect the club to be busy tonight. 

In fact, you practically relied on Wednesdays being the slowest day of the week. You often used the opportunity to practice new routines, test out new outfits, try something different with your makeup; pretty much anything you didn’t particularly prefer for a crowded audience to behold.

Tonight you find yourself testing the limits of a string-bikini-esque number, the laces doubled around your torso and triple-knotted in the hope of extra security, and the triangular fabric cutouts stuck down to the curve of your breasts with double-sided tape. You climb the pole with ease, perfectly-formed calluses on your palms and heels aiding you with improved grip. 

It took just a month of pole classes for you to develop an addiction to the burn of sleek metal sliding across your skin. Something about the sting of it, alongside the quiver of your core, the aching clench of your thighs; it was a remarkable blend of pain that spilled through you like pleasure. It soon became an unholy replacement for Sunday worship—melding yourself around the pole; bathing in the sweltering beams from the spotlights; inhaling the musky scent of crumpled bills lying at your feet. It was entirely meditative, and you’d found a sort of spiritual enlightenment amongst it all.

You let your head fall back as the rod swings you around in tight circles. Normally you let your eyes close when you spin, but tonight you feel called to the fuzzy warmth that pools behind your brows when you get good and dizzy. Your surroundings bleed and curve like an Expressionist painting, and an unmoving figure lurks amongst the brush strokes, appearing and disappearing and blending until it’s a constant image: a broad, stoic, masculine body, melting into everything you can see.

The invasion peeves you. Sure, you know you should be pleased that a customer is watching, clearly interested and coming closer, but for Christ’s sake, you’ve been out for less than five minutes. At 6pm. On a Wednesday.

You carefully bring your body to a halt, slowly inching down the pole until your shoes meet the hardwood. Your vision lags far behind you, skipping like a scratched disc, and it’s enough to nearly knock you from your feet. A lightness billows through your blood and tries to whisk you away, but you sink against it, sitting on your heels and fastening your grip on the cold steel.

Lines begin to gain their sharpness again, and the figure in your peripheral starts to look less and less like a Van Gogh portrait. The man’s face is still muddled, dimly-lit and shrouded by the bill of a baseball cap. You smile at him on instinct, and you notice his chest jerk, like he was entirely unaware that he too was being observed; like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

You also can’t help but notice how broad he is, even from this distance. The plaid lines of his button-up sprawl across his chest, his arms, his waist, and though the shirt clearly isn’t skin-tight, you can tell the expanse of him fills it out with ease. With a slight tilt of your head you motion for him to come closer, and your balance finally stills enough for you to trust your feet again.

The man strides across the room with a glimmer of urgency—not fast per se, but with a spirited buoyancy hot beneath his heels. He parks himself at the table nearest to you, pulling the chair from its nestled nook under the table, and makes himself comfortable, splaying his knees and crossing his arms tightly atop his chest.

God, he’s big.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round here before,” you lilt, descending the stairs from the platform and taking a seat on the table in front of him.

One of his hands peeks from beneath the sleeve of his flannel. It looks gruff, firm, and tightly grasps a palmful of ones, and the sheer width of his fingers make the bills look like Monopoly money. 

“Ain’t really been ‘round here before,” he shrugs, his voice exactly as deep as you expected, and steeped in what you immediately recognize as a born and raised Texan.

His eyes are noticeably shifty, ping-ponging between the floor, the stage, your shoes, his watch; anywhere that isn’t your gaze. The majority of his face is still shaded by his cap, and even this close his features remain more vague than you’d like them to be. You realize he must be new to this, and you’ve heard that drawl before; the drawl of a man who was raised to mind his manners.

You don’t make him ask.

“You want a dance, baby?”

You graze your fingers over his, and have to bite down on a grin when his chest hitches sharply against the row of buttons resting over his sternum.

“I… um… no, thank you sweetheart—”

“What’s your name?”

He clears his throat with a stifled, nervous cough.

“Joel,” he blurts, a sober assuredness possessing his voice. “Joel Miller.”

He finally meets your gaze, just as a whirling spotlight dances over his face. A split second of illumination reveals a whiskey-brown stare, dripping with warmth, glinting with a sedated hunger. You bite down on the flesh of your cheek and extend your hand to shake his.

“Paloma,” you croak, imitating his baritone husk, pausing to repeat his cadence. “Paloma Blue.”

A dimple appears amongst a veil of brown scruff, the faint edges of a charming smile peeking through the shadow from his hat. His shoulders remain rigid, hiked with an invisible thread tugging them toward the ceiling.

You really can’t read him.

“Can I do somethin’ for you, honey? You seem tense,” you question.

“I was… I was wonderin’ if you might be interested in lettin’ me buy you a drink. When you’re done workin’, f’course. Wouldn’t wanna get you in any kinda trouble.”

You find it impossible not to let out a chuckle. It’s not the first time you’ve sent a man into a flustered mess of shifting-eyes and stuttering words, though that would usually come after he got too bold and you needed to put him in his place. Joel Miller doesn’t look like those men; college-aged hooligans or machismo cowboys that are all bark and no bite. He doesn’t look like a man who gets nervous; yet here he is, fidgeting profusely with his watch, and you’re quite relieved he’s sitting down.

“Well, ain’t you a sweet one…” you drawl, half-teasing despite the truth to the statement. “I’m s’posed to work ‘til close tonight, but if you can convince my boss to let me leave early, I’m all yours.”

You don’t miss the swell of Joel’s pupils at your affirmation, a look of determination you had yet to witness on the man. The chances of getting out of your shift tonight are next to none, considering there’s merely three of you working the floor and a new hoard of howling youngsters just came tumbling through the entrance.

You point out your boss behind the bar and Joel follows with his gaze, nodding and starting towards her without a word.

You’re a bit shocked at his immediate action; not to mention the lack of the typical prying you’ve accepted as routine. He’s been extraordinarily polite; a man of few words but refreshingly direct despite the subtle shake in his voice, and the honesty alone makes your cheeks flush.

You’re far more used to taking control and providing entertainment for the countless men that frequent the club, always catering to their needs first and foremost, smothering them with flattery—or degradation, if you notice a well-timed “good boy” summons a bigger bill from their pockets. It’s work, but it’s undoubtedly started to bleed into your personal life. The lines between you and your Paloma persona have blurred these days, making you unsure of what you’re supposed to want and what you actually want. You find yourself lost in thought, gazing at the black and white tile as your legs swing underneath you, until the interruption of two dirty boots break your trance.

“Boss said you’re good to go. F’you still want to.”

How the hell did he manage that?

Your jaw hangs slightly in shock, racking your brain to make sense of what he may have done to convince her. You can’t help but be impressed by his vigor, by all of it, and a smile lifts your cheeks to the heavens as you recognize the feeling stirring in your tummy, a feeling that has laid dormant for far too long. You want him.

“I’ll go get my stuff, just hang tight.”

.   .   .   .   .

Joel stands by the exit of the club, waiting for you to grab your things. He hadn’t thought a damn thing through before he asked you out, and his voice of reason was nowhere to be found when he forked over 200 bucks to the club owner to get you out of working for the rest of the night. Any semblance of forethought vanished when he saw you, all sashayed hips and strut and so undeniably, deliciously Texan. And your face—oh—once he saw that sweet face of yours… he didn’t stand a fucking chance.

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know where exactly he should take you to get a drink. Should he have asked you to dinner instead? The last thing he wants is you to think is that he’s trying to buy you for the night, or that anything is required of you just because he got you out of work. He just wants to know you, be near you, bask in your presence. He wants to treat you like a gentleman, like he was raised to, because he’s damn sure the kind of men who wind up at that club don’t give a damn about chivalry.

You emerge from the narrow hallway leading towards the exit, clad in gray sweatpants and a flowy white tee that somehow still clings to the most feminine parts of your figure. You shoot him a beaming smile, a playful glint in your eyes as you haul a small duffel bag over your shoulder.

“You’re not takin’ me anywhere too fancy I hope,” you snicker.

Joel offers one hand to hold your bag and swings the door ajar with the other, holding it for you as you pass through. The trail of your perfume—that soft, sugary scent—leaves his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tightens his grip on the doorframe.

“You need somethin’ to eat? We could get some supper,” he suggests, offering his arm to you.

“Yeah, actually, I usually wait ‘til after my shift, considerin’ work ain’t too far off from a non-stop Tilt-A-Whirl ride. Y’get used to it after a while, but—”

“Better safe than sorry, I bet.”

You look up at him and nod with a half-grin, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

With just a single look, Joel’s stomach flutters and dick twitches at the sight of you. The glow of your face beneath the warmth of the streetlight; your soft features and the intensity of your persistent gaze is beyond mesmerizing. You’re pretty, the epitome of it, all batting lashes and pillowy lips; the very definition of divine feminine. You’re the spitting image of the hazy being that appears behind his eyelids when he touches himself and lets his mind wander; the body he craves to wake up tangled with every morning. 

He follows you to the passenger’s side of the car and opens the door for you without a thought, leaning in to his tendencies and muscle memory. You hum a sweet thank you as he extends his arm to help you into his elevated truck, but you barely need the support, your strong legs lifting you into the height of the car with ease. 

As Joel turns the key in the ignition, the scream of the roaring engine sends a full body cringe snaking down his spine.

“Sorry, uh, she’s a lil’ noisy,” he winces with an apologetic brow. “She’s fine, runs great, just—”

“A bit of a talker?” you blurt.

He smiles diffidently and nods. You’re better with words than he is, and he finds himself thankful for that—lord knows he needs all the help he can get in your presence.

Joel flicks on the radio, an old Willie Nelson tune lilting from the rear speakers. You let out a hearty grunt of approval.

“Haven’t heard this one in forever,” you slurred. “Practically grew up on this music. ‘M sure you did too, I can hear it in that drawl f’yours.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches his arm around your seat, crooking his head back as he shifts the truck into reverse. 

“That bad, huh?”

“Not bad! Just strong. Just how I like it, really,” you admit, pulling your lip between your teeth, doe-eyed and eager as you catch his gaze.

God, he’s absolutely fucked.

He dials up the volume as he clears his throat and starts down the jagged road. You relax into your seat, curling one of your feet up to tuck beneath your thigh as you hum along to the radio.

He knows exactly where to take you.

.   .   .   .   .

A twenty minute car ride with Joel revealed that he wanted to know as much as he could about you. He asked question after question, about your life, your hobbies, your family, and not one thing about your job, which was honestly quite refreshing. Not that you had any shame about your occupation, but most men were more fascinated about what it was like to be Paloma, and most importantly what it could mean for them at the end of the evening. Not Joel, though. It seemed as though he was almost afraid to breach the subject; out of politeness or avoidance, you weren’t sure. You crossed your fingers that it was the former.

You arrive at a little shack of a restaurant, some sort of fusion between a diner and a sports bar. It looks as though it should be empty, the exterior of it run down in a way that makes it appear frozen in time, but it isn’t. Clusters of customers sit in long-stretched booths that fill the width of the windows and the entrance is shrouded with people; some smoking, some chatting, and some seemingly waiting to get in. You scan the crowd and find that everyone visible to you appears quite innately blue collar, down to the sea of Levi’s Jeans and scuffed up boots, extra-illuminated by the cheap plastic solar lights haphazardly stuck into narrow beds of mulch.

Joel hops down from the truck before you can even say a word, and with a quick shuffle he’s arrived at the passenger door. You have to laugh at the absurdity of it, how it seems he has—cover to cover— studied a textbook of how to be a perfect gentleman. Alongside the frequency of nerves you can sense radiating from beneath his skin, you know you need to get a drink in him. 

He offers his arm as you hop down onto the pavement and swiftly rests his palm on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd of patrons with ease. A cheap, crackling doorbell sound chimes as you pass through the doorway. The hostess offers a wide and toothy smile, hollering to announce Joel's arrival, by name, towards the kitchen. She appears surprised but delighted to see him, making a point to let him know how much she has missed him with a cringeworthy attempt at a bit too much physical contact. She asks about a Sarah, and your stomach tightens with concern—you hope to god she's anything but a wife. He requests a booth, a cozy, curved table in the shaded, sheltered corner of the restaurant, and the staff oblige him immediately, one waitress clearing the tabletop of dishes and the other wiping the surface down in one clean swipe.

“Hope this is ok,” Joel says. “You’re definitely not the only one wearing sweatpants in here, if it makes you feel at ease.”

“It’s good, seems perfect,” you slip the innermost part of your bottom beneath your teeth and let your eyes do the smiling. “They sure are treatin’ you like royalty in here.”

Joel seems to relax a bit, his spine softening into the back of the cushion and legs splaying wide. He isn’t looking at you as you observe him; his eyes dart around and he musters a casual wave to anyone visibly moved by his presence. The constant, worried scrunch of his brow smooths out for a moment, just as the beams of passing headlights rake over his features, and you finally realize:

He’s fucking gorgeous.

You could see him before, sure, but you didn’t actually see him, not with the lingering luminescence of the warm white that shines through the outspread window behind you. He was steeped in shadow, but now he’s colored in, every detail and curvature entirely yours to behold.

The bend of his nose draws your attention first, strong and angular, demanding your eyes pay it mind. Your gaze follows a natural map, a sporadic trail of sun spots that dance across his cheek, conspicuous evidence of long days working outside in the relentless Austin heat. A few silver hairs are sprinkled amongst his umber scruff; a well-kempt beard and mustache sits just above the soft curve of his lips, flushed with ruddy hue.

He’s gorgeous, plain and simple. 

The waitress brings Joel a whiskey before even saying hello. Joel asks what you would like, calls you sweetheart in a low, thick growl. You order a vodka cran and try to ignore the hostess currently staring a hole into the side of your head. 

“You gonna tell me why they treat you like royalty ‘round here?” you tease.

“Not royalty—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “They just ain’t seen me in a while. Used to bring my little girl here for breakfast every Sunday.”

“Ah,” you release with a sigh, the ball of tension sitting in your chest following behind. “Sarah?”

“Mhm,” he hums.

“Was worried she might be a wife for a second there.”

“Oh, no, I- I’m not… I wouldn’t…”

“S’alright. I’ll admit though, I’m real glad she ain’t.”

Joel’s face turns a soft shade of pink and a whisper of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicker, lingering on your lips, a flame dancing behind his pupils, before meeting your gaze again. You can’t control the smile that possesses your face, nor the simmering heat that blankets your chest, and you can’t recall that last time a man made you feel like this. 

Every facet of Joel’s appearance exudes an air of dominance. He dresses much like the hordes of men who approach you with their usual excessive bravado and unwarranted sense of ownership over your body, but he seems to act entirely the opposite. He seems apprehensive, wary, like he’s trying desperately to be the right kind of man around you, to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

You decide to try what Joel orders, some sort of off-menu special order the waitress jokingly calls “The Miller Deluxe”. It isn’t long before you finish your drink, and another appears before you can even ask. You inquire more about Joel’s daughter, his life, his work; returning the line of questioning he surveyed you with in the passenger’s seat of the truck, and you find yourself mirroring his smile as he tells you all about Sarah. He rambles off a brief explanation of his business and Tommy; you immediately know who he is, a somewhat troublesome regular visitor at the club. Joel apologizes for Tommy before you even say a word about him, and your food arrives at the table before you can explain that he’s more of an occasional nuisance than anything else.

The whiskey seems to unwind the tension in Joel’s stature, and words begin to flow with much more ease than they did before you arrived. A natural, charismatic charm seeps through, sticky sweet, until it’s all but enveloped his demeanor, blanketing his palpable apprehension with an earnest geniality that radiates warmth like a fireplace. It washes over you, clinging to every inch of your skin, seeping through to your veins and igniting a flame low in your belly, a flickering heat that demands to be noticed.

You’re fairly certain he won’t be the one to cut through the guarded distance between you. Despite the unmistakable hunger in his eyes, he remains heedful, taking extra care to keep his hand from grazing yours as he reaches for the chip basket and keeping his body at least a foot away from yours. You want—desperately want—to shatter the glass partition he seems to have placed between you, to destroy the self-imposed barrier keeping his temptation at bay.

You start by sliding closer, closing the gap between your knees until they touch. That gets his attention, but he doesn’t retreat, he only meets your eyes with a look of inquiry, curiosity, and a hint of apprehension. You flash him your most doe-eyed, encouraging smile, sanctioning the proximity of your bodies, silently divulging that you want this, that you like him, that he can finally release the imprisoned breath he’s been holding beneath his sternum since he uttered his very first words to you. 

Joel swings an arm around your shoulder, resting against the wooden panel atop the booth seat, leaving a few inches between your skin and the sleeve of his flannel. He doesn’t have to tell you a thing; you oblige him immediately, leaning your shoulders back and relaxing into his forearm. You fit seamlessly into the crook of his elbow, and the warmth emanating from his body makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.                       

The second vodka cran—the one that you nearly shotgunned—possesses your will for a split-second and you find yourself reaching for his face, whisping the pad of your thumb across his wiry scruff. Despite the rough tickle it leaves behind, you immediately crave the sensation elsewhere, certain that the drag of it across a more delicate area might just feel like heaven.

“Can I be honest?” you whisper in a low lilt, tracing the brim of his cap with lazy fingers.

Joel nods with a thick swallow, his Adam's apple jumping almost comically in his throat.

“Yeah, f’course,” he responds with a strained attempt at nonchalance.

“I don’t like this hat.”

You grip the bill of the hat, wiggling it back and forth playfully. Your actions are outrunning your thoughts by a mile now, and you’re unable to keep your hands from wandering towards Joel’s magnetism. His face transforms into a bewildered, amused grin, one brow furrowed and the other cocked toward the ceiling. 

“Mm,” he hums, a low, resonant sonance from the pit of his chest. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t see you,” you whine. “Can’t see that pretty face of yours, s’all hidden by a shadow.”

“I, um—” he whisks the hat off, running his fingers through a slicked mountain of curls. “My hair’s still wet.”

Christ. The light bathes his face, every detail revealing itself to you in absolute glory. He’s fucking beautiful, his features demanding of your undivided attention, an impossible balance between striking and soft. The flicker of need at the base of your core spreads at the speed of a wildfire, setting you ablaze with a hunger you can no longer ignore.

“Joel?”

His name spills from your throat, sliding off your tongue like a siren’s nectar. Your fingers find their way to his mane, weaving through the strands with a gentle tug. His inhale catches in his lungs, the air held prisoner as your nails trace along his temple and jaw. His eyes finally meet yours as the pad of your thumb drags across his lower lip, and it’s only then that you will his breath to freedom, a stuttering exhale pulsing with anticipation.

“I think we should get the check.”

A momentary shock quickly turns to realization, and with widened eyes and a stifled smirk he nods, wasting no time to flag down the waiter and ask for the bill. Neither of you speak; you find it almost impossible to do so, your gaze spellbound to the curve of muscle and veins that lay beneath his collar, and you swear you can see his pulse jumping beneath his skin.

You want nothing more than to feel the rush of it beneath your tongue.

Joel offers his arm to help you out of the booth, his flannel rolled to his elbows, exposing his thick and freckled forearms and a modest watch strapped to his wrist. He wastes no time whisking you towards the door, his palm flat against your lower back, waving a few rushed goodbyes to the folks he chatted with on the way in. You can feel his heat, his fervor, singeing your skin through your shirt, his fingers curled into the soft skin just above your ass. He holds the door for you as you lock eyes; you’re met with primitive opacity in his gaze, the desperation of it surging straight to your cunt.

You grasp his hand, and book it towards his truck, counting down the seconds before you lose control.

.   .   .   .   .

Joel hums with surprise as you twist the neck of his flannel into your fist, tugging him into you and colliding your lips savagely with his.

Fuck, you taste better than he could’ve possibly imagined.

He didn’t intend for the evening to end like this. In fact, he almost wanted to avoid it, wanted to take you out with the crystal-clear message of no expectation whatsoever. But he’s just a man after all, and the second your eyes started talking and hands started wandering, he knew there was no way he could resist giving you what you wanted.

His hands find their way to your hips with magnetic force, slipping under the hem of your shirt with ease and grasping at the softness that lies beneath the fabric. The strength of his hands is enough to push you flat against the passenger door as he tilts your pelvis towards him, easing your knees apart with an effortless nudge of his leg. 

You gasp into his mouth as he pulls you onto his thigh, grinding you into the thick denim. The sound of you, breathless and needy, stirs a ravenousness in his chest that Joel had thought was long laid to rest, an avidity that only you have managed to awaken. You, in all your glory, drenched in honey and cream, calling out to him to come and taste.

As he bucks your hips a second time, you whine, your hands shooting up and tangling in his hair. You tug his head back, distancing his lips from yours, and he can’t help but groan at the loss of contact. Your gaze bears into his eyes with a newfound ferocity, a determination that leaves him straining against the confines of his jeans.

“You gonna give me what I need, Joel Miller?” you speak against his mouth in a hush.

Goosebumps litter the better part of his neck and chest as his eyes struggle to keep you in focus. The sting of pain at the back of his scalp only swells his desire, a sensation so staggering that he finds his breath caught, full and tight in his lungs, escaping only through labored, silent sighs.

“M’gonna give you whatever you need baby, whatever you want,” Joel pants, slurring his words against your gluttonous smirk. 

Suddenly you’re diving beneath his jaw, dragging the heat of your mouth across the pattern he knows follows a prominent vein in his neck. Fuck, it feels euphoric, his pulse jumping against your tongue, every rush of blood to and fro delivering another wave of want straight to his cock. He gives in, letting his eyes roll back into his skull, no longer able to maintain any semblance of insouciance as he’s damn near collapsing under your spell. He can’t recall the last time he’d been touched like this. On the rare occasion he’d bring a woman home he found himself falling into routine, taking control because that’s what he sensed she would expect, fulfilling some sense of duty as a man that he never quite understood. He’d always felt a sort of magnetism toward assured women, but somehow they were never the ones who ended up in his bed, only wavering ladies who looked to him wide-eyed, waiting for instruction.

He’s quite sure he’ll never go back.

Joel drags your hips against him once again, this time increasing the friction, bearing you down on his thigh enough to feel the damp spot that’s pooled between your legs. You yelp, biting into his neck, the sting of your canines against his skin bordering on vampiric. Joel hisses, the pain once again blossoming into some sort of pleasure, twitching and crying from the head of him. 

“Babydoll—shit—” he curses, stunned as you drag your lower teeth towards his ear, undoubtedly leaving behind a sketch of crimson. “You wanna get in the truck baby? Plenty’a room in the backseat.”

You hum in agreement, your lips wrapping around his earlobe, flicking it against your tongue before giving it a feeble nip. Joel fumbles in his pocket until he manages to unlock the door with his key, wasting no time as he pulls you tight to his chest, swinging the door ajar before offering a hand to help you inside. Despite his lust-stricken haze, his gentlemanly charm seems to be beaten into the very fiber of his being. You step into the car, gracing him with a personal view of the perfect splay of your hips and ass, only revving his hunger as he follows suit.

.   .   .   .   .

You don’t allow Joel but a second before you’re caging him in between your legs, straddling his thighs against the backseat of his truck. The rough grip of his hands on your hips, grinding you down on his knee, kneading into your curves; it was enough to set you entirely ablaze. No more matchstick flickering at the pit of your stomach, every cell in your body is pulsing with need, pleading for release by the hands of Joel Miller.

You can’t help but glide with a sharp rock of your hips across his lap, desperate to return some friction to the pounding ache within your walls. Your eyes lock with his as your clothed cunt skims the sizable tent of his jeans, observing him feverishly as he groans at the sensation.

“Fuck—” he grunts, his chest heaving as you slowly drag away again. “Easy, easy baby…”

His hands find the valley of your waist with ease, slowing your pace to an achingly languid speed. With each brush of your throbbing clit against the seam of your panties, another gush of slick floods from your core. It’s filthy, obscene, soaking all the way through the thick material of your sweatpants and onto Joel’s denim. You can’t even remember the last time you were this wet. It makes you burn that much more, the way his mere presence alone was enough to turn you into a sopping mess.

“Joel—” your palms cradle the curve of his jaw, holding him still to allow you to study him in the lowlight. 

He’s so fucking beautiful, positively mesmerizing, his pupils blown wide with a raptured stare, the sharp curve of his nose like something carved from ancient marble. The pad of your thumb snakes across the pout of his lower lip, pressing down until his jaw goes slack, parting his mouth with an exhale.

Joel seems to lose himself in your gaze, his eyes not once leaving yours as you slip your thumb between his teeth and force him even wider, applying pressure to the tip of his tongue and feeling the muscle flex against your fingertips. You need his mouth, need it anywhere and everywhere and right fucking there, you need him to clean up this mess he’s made of you.

“You know how gorgeous you are, sugar?” you hum, spreading the slick from his tongue across his lower lip and down his chin. “You know I don’t do this for just anybody, right?”

“You’re the gorgeous one, baby, so goddamn gorgeous,” Joel pants, snaking his hands higher, up the bend of your waist until his palms reach the yielding skin that cloaks your ribcage. His thumbs trace the band of your bra; smooth, fluid motions that send chills crawling up your spine. “So beautiful I reckon’ it might jus’ kill me.”

You can’t help but smile at his sweetness, his accent reduced to a slurry of words, appearing to be drunk on your aura. It seems you’ve managed to reduce him down to his very core, the heat from your body melting through the hardened layers of gruff masculinity to reveal an almost desperate eagerness to please, a yearning to relinquish control.

“I can’t have you dyin’ on me, honeypie,” you allow your hands to wander, your fingertips finding their way to the uppermost button of his shirt. “I got far too many plans for that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You lean down to kiss him once again, your thumbs making quick work of the trail of remaining buttons. Your lips move sloppily against each other, the both of you unable to stifle your muffled moans, swallowing each other’s pleasure as your tongues waltz in the in-between.

“Tell me what to do, baby,” Joel croons against your cheek. “Fuck, want you s’bad, jus’ wanna make you feel good.”

Your fingers nestle into the damp mess of curls at the back of his skull. With an innocuous little tug, you guide his lips to the expanse of bare skin on your chest, his mouth settling at the heart of your sternum. You don’t even have to ask, his tongue darting past his lips, savoring the taste of you with a deliberate torpor. The graze of his scruff against your thumping heart feels better than you could have possibly imagined, sharp yet soft, ticklish enough to make your breath catch in your throat. You blanket the backs of his hands, your fingers settling in the spaces between his, maneuvering the wide expanse of his palms to splay across your breasts. You can’t believe the sheer size of his hands, enveloping your tits entirely, calluses harsh against the sensitive peaks veiled beneath the mesh of your bra. 

“Touch me here,” you sigh, unable to keep yourself rocking slowly against his thigh. “Taste me. Show me how bad you want me, pretty boy.”

Something akin to a growl claws from his throat, and you gasp as his nails hook around the seam of your bra, exposing the peaks of your breasts with a relentless tug. He wastes no time, pulling your nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking at the sensitive bud mercilessly.

“Fuck, oh fuck, that’s good baby,” you bear down into his thigh as his thumb finds your other nipple, rolling it between his forefinger. Your core surges with another wave of need, crying for attention, spilling her tears from your center and dampening the denim-clad thigh beneath her. “I need— shit— I need you lower, Joel.”

In your hungered haze, you push Joel flat against the seat of the truck, his eyes wide and wild as you climb atop him, his chest hiking and falling against your bare tits. He looks downright enraptured, licking his lips like a kid in a goddamn candy shop, fiending for a sugar high.

“You wanna taste me, sugar plum? You gon’ let me feed you?”

“Christ—” Joel curses, his hands wandering along your torso, lifting your shirt above your head and flinging it across the dash. He unclasps your bra with his free hand, sending it flying the opposite direction. “Please darlin’, need’ta taste you.”

You manage to kick off your sweats while Joel holds you steady by the hips, his eager words somehow igniting even more fervor in your movements. His thumbs knead into the give of your lower tummy, meandering beneath the waistband of your panties and twisting the elastic around his knuckles, slack-jawed and nearly possessed by the sight of your bare curves alone.  

Joel gives you a nod, cupping your ass to ease you forward as your knees find a home adjacent to his ears. He pets along the length of your thighs, damn near drooling at the sight between them.

“Don’t hold back on me now,” Joel slips a finger beneath the seam of black lace, teasing against the soft damp skin closest to where you need him the most. “M’a big boy, can handle myself.”

You gasp as he shoves the soaked cloth covering your cunt to the side, brushing your desperate clit with his knuckle as he does so. You’re bare to him now, surely glistening and ripe and ready to be devoured.

“Don’t doubt it, cowboy,” you croon, raking a hand through his curls before lowering yourself onto his eager mouth.

A rocket of white-hot pleasure shoots straight through you as Joel latches on to your clit, nestling the bud between his lips. The searing sensation is enough to make your hips twitch forward, sending your hands to scramble for purchase to keep you upright. You can’t even make a sound; the release of euphoria coursing through you stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving you to choke on empty inhales until Joel finally gives your bud a moment of reprieve.

His tongue dips into the pool of your center, sending another swell of nectar from your core, coating his scruff in sweet slick. You hear him groan, muffled between your thighs, as his arms lock around your hips and push you down even further. 

“Fuck, Joel—” you hiss, trying to keep yourself from grinding against the sharp curve of his nose, pulling yourself away slightly.

You swear you hear a hum of disapproval from between your legs as Joel chases you with his mouth, his grip tightening and his fingers digging mercilessly into the give of your thighs. His tongue is deep, drinking straight from the source of your arousal as his arms begin to rock you against his face, his nose grazing against your clit with an impossible precision; sending wave after wave of pleasure coiling up your spine. It seems dangerous, the way he’s devouring you without a single breath, but he holds you steady, bearing the weight of you onto his mouth with no hesitation.

“Baby, shit sweetheart— you gotta breathe,” you manage a fistful of his hair, pulling him off you with considerable force. 

He looks thoroughly dazed; glassy irises and pink parted lips glistening with your dew, like a man who’s been given a taste but is nowhere near satiated. His chest swells and shallows rapidly beneath your ass, each breath bringing more color to his cheeks and a myriad of pearls forming across his hairline.

“Need more,” Joel pants, his fingers weaving around the lace stretched across your hips. “Need these gone, angel.”

You oblige him with a swiftness, pulling the garment to your knees, dismounting him to allow you to slip it past your ankles. His palms cup your ass and squeeze, his thumbs spreading you open to reveal even more of yourself to him. The stretch feels good, the sensitive muscles fluttering with the shock of the exposure, sticky and soaked from the steady drip seeping from your sex.

“So pretty…” he kneads into your pliable cheeks. “Can I taste it? Please sugar, need’ta taste all of you.”

God, his desperation is like a siren song, your desire burning hot and full in your throat. You hum with approval, mounting him once more but reverse this time, a wave of goosebumps skittering across your skin in anticipation. 

He starts gentler this time, licking a languid stripe from your taint to your tailbone. His tongue splays across your skin, wide and flat, making sure not to miss a single inch. A guttural moan escapes your lungs; an uninhibited response to the forgotten feeling of heat in that region, an entirely distinctive kind of pleasure that sends your eyes spinning to the back of your skull. Your nails dig crescents into the cushions your hands are so violently clinging to, your back arching, matching in a manner to match the little moons left behind by your fingers. 

Joel groans in response to your noises, biting at the supple flesh gathered in his hands, his hunger surely spurred by the sweet sounds of your euphoria. Like a switch, his mouth turns greedy again, lapping against your puckered skin with a ferocity that makes you cry out his name. He gives you no moment of respite, jerking your hips toward him and seizing your clit with his curved tongue and pulling you into him, his nose practically fucking your cunt.

“Ohhh, that’s…” you trail off, your eyes beginning to water from the sheer intensity of it. “Christ, you’re heaven.”

At that, Joel seems to lose control, seemingly possessed by a determination to make you meet God. His palms jerk your hips back and forth, your clit never once escaping the grasp of his lips, his nose delving into your pussy with reckless abandon. Pleasure ravages the whole of you in a frenzy, wave after wave surging in your belly until you’re all but crying, quivering as you white-knuckle the headrest holding you steady. Your orgasm topples through you, your vision blasting with light as your walls clamp again and again, squeezing the length of Joel’s nose buried in your cunt.

Joel doesn’t release your clit from his mouth until you’re yelping, twitching and gasping from overstimulation. His grip softens as you fly forward to your hands and knees, your chest heaving with exhaustion, your muscles bearing through the aftershocks of your release. His lips find the backs of your thighs, trailing sweet, slow kisses across the expanse of skin. They feel like praise, almost like he’s thanking you without words; a mellifluous tempo of graciousness that you had yet to experience from him. 

Part of you wants to linger in the divinity of this moment, but from your position you find yourself face to face with the bulging mass beneath his jeans. It looks painful, the outline of his shaft straining against thick denim and a sturdy zipper. You manage to unbutton the pants with your one free hand, slipping your palm beneath the waistband effortlessly. 

“Jesus, Joel,” you chuckle, astonished by the way his cock fills your palm, heavy and thicker than you would have ever anticipated. You begin to stroke him above his boxers, softly and slowly, swirling your fingertips across the head of him as you feel him groan beneath you, dampening your fingers with his weeping tip. “Lemme help you, sugar.”

Joel grunts out his approval, his palm splayed across your ass, seemingly as a means to ground himself to this mortal plane. The callused pads on his fingertips clutch you relentlessly as you free his dick from the confines of his clothes, holding the base of him steady as you glide the tip of your tongue across his glistening slit.

His hips jerk forward at the sudden contact, sending the length of him thrusting into your open mouth. You welcome him wholly, savoring the salty musk that coats your cheeks and the sting in your jaw as you stretch to accommodate him.

“Fucking—shit—” he growls, his breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “C’mere, god damn—”

He tugs you back onto his open mouth, burying himself into you once more with a reignited ferocity, drinking the remnants of your orgasm. You yelp, your throat flexing around his tip as he flicks your overstimulated clit, the blend of pleasure and torment accosting your nervous system. 

It’s downright mean, the mercilessness of his tongue sending you straight into overdrive. Two can play at that game.

You take him as deep as you can manage, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue around his girth. He groans into your pussy, licking you faster, pulling your lips apart with his tongue and spreading them like angel wings. You can’t help but grin, the unspoken competition between you revving with intensity with each passing second, sending the both of you toppeling into bliss, warmth spilling down your throat as you cry out against his cock. Your thighs begin to shake as you reach your peak, tears beading in your eyes as you grasp tightly onto the flexing muscles in Joel’s legs. You choke on his name as his dick falls from your lips, bearing through surge after surge of euphoria. The pleasure is so consuming that it coils itself around your windpipe and renders you mute, holding you hostage until it’s had its way with you and leaving you dizzy when it finally relents.

Your arms give out on you and you collapse, exhaustion possessing you for a moment until your consciousness returns. You feel Joel pressing soft, sweet kisses to the back of your thigh, and suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re likely crushing his dick beneath your weight. You ease off of him slowly, your legs quivering with the effort, turning to face him as he shifts himself to a seated position and fastens his jeans.

The moonlight catches the sweat beading at his hairline; the glassy whites of his eyes and the dew on his lips beaming under the cool-toned hue. He looks like art, soft lines and harsh edges painted exactly where you’d want them; masculine shadows dancing across his skin as he shifts his weight, daring you to watch them move. You’ve never been so completely mesmerized by a man. Not once in your life has a man rendered you speechless, but here you are; irreversibly hypnotized and a stranger to the English language. You’re aware of yourself—painfully aware of your staggering silence and your gawkish gaze—and you shake your head, laughing at the unbelievable effect washing over you.

Joel’s cheeks turn ruddy, his irises shifting between you and his lap as he drapes his arm across his chest, giving his own shoulder a hearty squeeze. 

“What’s funny?” he breathes, insecurity creeping in his throat.

You come to suddenly; the stark realization that you’re probably making the man nervous is enough to break you from your trance. You crawl towards him, your fingertips grazing the underside of his jaw, tilting him towards you until your lips are merely an inch apart.

“Nothin’ sugar,” you hum, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “You’re just one hell of a cowboy.”

[artsninspo]

"TIKTOK PRANK 📱" - RIO X READER

🎁 here's a present - holiday fic

Summary: This short one-shot explores the viral TikTok prank and how Rio would react to his woman telling him she cant cover this months mortgage.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word-Count: ~900

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

You never once thought the charismatic and elusive man that you met at the gas station would become everything to you. The more you got to know him the less you expected this. He was home every night for one, which was a grand departure from your chaotic beginnings. He’d always been a man, dominant and uncompromising in his vision but somewhere along the way things had changed. 

“Whats up baby” he rasps coming over to the living room to kiss you.

“Nothing much, dinners in the microwave” you smile and he nods warming it up. Your beginnings were full of charged and passionate arguments about everything under the sun. Followed by the best sex you ever had. Rio had fought hard for the position he had now in your life and your heart and you're grateful for it. Seated at the table with his drink and cutlery his eyes close over his food before he starts eating.

“So fucking good” he nods packing the food away for a man as slim as him. “Thank you baby” he praises.

“You’re welcome” you smile.

“Come sit with me” he calls out. This is the part of him it took months to get to. The man that doesnt even want to eat dinner alone. Getting up you head to the dining room table as he scoots his chair back making it clear if there was any confusion. He wants you in his lap and not on your own chair beside him. His right arm hooks around your waist securing you to him as his left continues making quick work of his dinner.

“How was your day?” he asks and you snuggle into him, happy your man is home. 

“Better now” you admit and he scoffs. 

“I bet mama” he says and you know he’s smiling when he kisses the top of your head. 

“Did you ask Marcus what he wants for Christmas?” you ask knowing he spent the day with his son.

“New phone, computer and camera - kid wants to be a streamer. He talks in tiktok half the time. I don't understand the shit he’s on!” Rio says making you chuckle.

“I ordered him the phone and phone cases already” you tell him when it hits you. The newest tiktok trend that has been making you giggle, is the perfect harmless prank for Rio.

“Cool, I gotta call his mom to make sure shit is straight, then we can go pick up the computer tomorrow” he says. “You decide what you want yet?” he asks.

“Haven't decided yet” you tell him and he sits back chewing his last bite as he watches you skeptically. His phone rings and you get up to give him privacy. Heading into your bedroom you set up a hidden camera and start on your nightly routine. You’re sitting in bed scrolling when he comes in heading into the shower. When you hear the water shut off you make sure the cameras are recording and get back into bed. You tell yourself to stop smiling in preparation for his emergence but you want to laugh already. A straight face is necessary to reel him in. He comes out a few minutes later in black pyjama bottoms, getting in bed beside you.

“Rio, I have to tell you something…” you swallow pretending to be nervous.

“That’s why you got down today in the kitchen huh?” he comments already annoyed. Instead of smiling you look at your hands twisting them in a nervous gesture. His frustration turns into concern.

“Who’s life is coming to an end?” he asks calmly. His attention is piqued and he reaches over, rubbing your thigh in a comforting gesture. “Baby, tell me” he says softening. You take a breath to keep from laughing and swallow hard.

“I can't pay the mortgage this month” you say and he blinks in shock. “I’m sorry, I went crazy on black friday and there’s no more money” you continue.

“Pay what, when?” he asks, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry” you whisper, keeping things going.

“You bump your head or something? You think I’m someone else? One of your ex’s maybe because when have you ever paid the mortgage?” he asks absolutely thrown.

“I’m serious”

“Babe, when have you ever paid any bill?” he asks, annoyed at the thought.

“So it's okay?” you ask and he shakes his head again making you smile.

“Stop playing with me, can’t pay the mortgage” he mocks.

“It’s a prank from tiktok,” you laugh. Rio shoot’s you an annoyed look.

“Better be, had me worried for bullshit” he says.

“Who’s life is coming to an end” you mock, laughing at him.

“That’s the difference between us mama, I’m not playing about you and you want to prank me” he comments and you pepper kisses onto your mans face. When Rio deepens the kiss pulling at the knot in your robe you pull away.

“Wait a minute I was filming the prank for Marcus.” you laugh.

“You and my son better stop neglecting me for tiktok” Rio says as you turn off the cameras. 

“Let me make it up to you” you smile, taking your robe off and straddling your man.

“I’m always gonna pay the bills for this place as long as you're in it” he says kissing you hard and you smile against his lips knowing he takes care of all your needs just the way you need.

hi my loves! back with a quick little holiday fic based on a tiktok trend. let me know if you guys like this and I can continue with little tiktok trends.

: ̗̀➛ Loved the story? ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog, ☑ vote —it all helps me so much! 💌

tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

[cameronluvr]

JAILED PART 2 — toxic!rafe x fem reader

summary: part one here — rafe gets out of jail the next morning after his dad bailed him out, and he is forced to apologize to you.

warnings: none in this one! rafe is much less toxic than in part 1.

after spending a few hours in jail, rafe’s dad bails him out after signing tons of paper work and hours of talking to the officers.

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“come on, cameron. you’re free to go” an officer begins opening the cell, watching as rafe grabbed his stuff and walked out. he greeted his dad at the end of the hallway, who looked less than amused.

“hey dad” rafe says, but ward didn’t have a response. the disappointment look on his face said it all. “really? nothing?” rafe asks as the pair begin heading out of the building and into ward’s car.

“rafe, it’s 6am. do you really think i wanna be here right now?” ward replies, swinging open his car door and angrily shutting it after he got in. rafe got in the passenger side. “i’m sorry” rafe says in a non-meaningful way, but at least he said it. “don’t say sorry to me, say it to y/n.” ward tells him, turning the engine on and driving away.

“y/n? is she at the house?” rafe asks, looking at his dad who isn’t looking back at him. “yeah, she’s at the house. she came in last night crying her eyes out because of you” ward says, taking a quick glance at his son. rafe doesn’t respond, he just looks down in his lap to rethink about what he did, and how he made you feel.

“huh, you gonna say sorry to her?” ward asks, almost in a demanding way in which rafe doesn’t have a choice. “yes, dad” he nods. “good. she’s staying in your room, so don’t go in there until she’s awake.” ward tells him, making him frown.

“but it’s my room..?”

“don’t go in there until she’s awake. you hear me?” ward repeats, not owing his son an explanation. “fine” rafe rolls his eyes, finally agreeing.

“she’s a good girl, rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” ward asks, needing to know the reason as to why his son is abusive towards the girl he loves, the girl who cherishes him.

“i don’t know, dad, alright? we just had too much to drink.” rafe blames it on the alcohol, but he’s just as much the same when he’s sober. “so you got in your car and proceeded to drive with her shit scared in your passenger seat? begging you to stop?” ward argues.

rafe sighs loudly and rolls his eyes, not knowing what to say now. “you could’ve killed her, and yourself!” ward continues to argue, wanting to know why his son is the way he is. “yeah, i know!” rafe argues back. it’s done now, it’s in the past you could’ve died, but you didn’t.

the rest of the drive home was silent. neither of them wanted to speak to each other, nor about the situation to avoid more arguments. when they finally got back to tannyhill, it was around 6:30 am, rafe got out and slammed the car door moodily.

“hey, watch it.” ward scolds him, pointing a finger at him as they both walk into the house. rafe avoids his bedroom with you in it, walking past it to get to the guest room. he didn’t get any sleep all night, so he decided to have a nap.

when he woke up, it was almost 10 am. he got out of bed and left the guest room, checking if his bedroom door was open yet. and to his surprise, it was. he peeked into the room, only seeing you nowhere. moments later, he hears the sound of your voice coming from downstairs.

he makes his way down the stairs, where your voice gets closer and closer. finally, he spots you in the living room, sitting on the couch with his sister, sarah. you were really close to sarah, so obviously you’d already told her what happened last night. when you both saw rafe come into the room, your mouths fell silent. sarah’s eyes darted at rafe, giving him a look of disgust.

“hey y/n” he says, “can i talk to you?” he asks, eyeing his sister to get her to leave. “whatever you have to say to her, i wanna listen” sarah says, not moving from her seat. “no, get out” rafe bickers with her.

“no, i wanna listen too.” ward’s voice suddenly says as he walks in from the kitchen. rafe rolls his eyes at the fact his dad and sister wanted to hear his apology for themselves. he accepts that they aren’t going to leave, and he sits down next to you.

“y/n, i’m sorry” he says, more sympathetic than he was with his dad in the car. you didn’t know what to say, because it certainly wasn’t ok, but you still loved him regardless. “i didn’t mean to scare you like that, or hurt you…” he went on. after a little, sarah and ward could see he meant his words, and they didn’t need to be there anymore. they both got up and walked out, leaving you to be alone with rafe so you could talk it out.

“i know…” you respond quietly, looking down at your lap and fidgeting with your hands. “no, hey, i really mean it. i love you, i didn’t mean to act like that…” rafe grabs your hands, holding them which made you look up into his eyes. “i love you.” he says again.

“i love you too, rafe. i just wish you would’ve said sorry before you got arrested and spent the night in jail. i stayed up for most of the night feeling guilty.” you huff, knowing you shouldn’t feel guilty but you were unsure if you made the situation worse or not.

“don’t feel guilty, baby. none of it was your fault” he tells you, which calms your mind a little. “i didn’t mean to make you mad at the beach, it’s just, i—” you begin to explain, but he cuts you off. “no, no, shh. i shouldn’t have gotten angry at you, it was my fault.” he says, his hands still holding yours and rubbing them softly.

“i’m sorry baby, do you forgive me?” he asks, watching as you struggle to find the right words to say. “…yes, i forgive you. just, don’t do that shit again. you really scared me” you sigh, tearing up just thinking about the whole situation.

“hey, i know. shh, come here” he comforts you, pulling you into a hug. you rest your head on his shoulder, side hugging him back. after a few moments of silence and just hugging each other, ward walks back into the room to see how it went.

“everything ok in here?” he asks, seeing rafe nod in response. though he isn’t looking for rafe’s answer, he wanted yours. you look up at him, sniffling and wiping your tears away. “yeah” you tell him, he watches as rafe rubs your back to comfort you.

ward nods, seeing as you put your head down to look into your lap, he looks at his son with daggers to remind him to behave. you dread to think what he would do if rafe did something mean to you again.

THIS WAS SHORT. but as requested, here’s part 2! rafe is much less toxic in this one, obviously:) hope you guys enjoy! <3

@cameronluvr

[sageworld]

if ur doing req for other players not just paige fans u do the nsfw alphabet but for kk? also congrats on the lesbianism 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

NSFW alphabet • KK Arnold

A • Aftercare

okay so boom, after sex is a lot of small talk, about each others days, how basketballs going for her, how schools going for you. even when you’re super sleepy, falling asleep mid sentence if kks not ready for sleep yet she’ll try and get you to keep talking to her.

B • Body part

YOUR THIGHS, kk is obsessed with them. grabbing one while she drives, rubbing on them while she eats you out, leaving hickies all on them, she can’t get enough.

C • Cum

she prefers cumming in your mouth more than your fingers, thigh, strap or pussy. she loves grabbing on your hair when she’s cumming. same in turn, she loves you cumming in her mouth, dripping all over her face.

D • Dirty secret

okay this isn’t even a secret but kk is so baby. she loves being topped by you, she’s bottom 95% of the time, even when she’s using strap on you, you’ll be riding her and she’s fucking whimper listening to you praise her.

“feels so fuck good baby, you make me feel so good kk.” you moan out, squeezing her tits from above as you ride her strap like no tomorrow. “oh my god kk, i’m gonna cum.” and she’s just a whimpering, moaning, stuttering mess while holding your hips

E • Experience

kks been with her fair share of girls before, she’s had her one nights, serious relationship or two, she knows what she’s doing & even if it’s your first wlw relationship she’s more than willing to help you learn.

F • Favorite position

she’s a ✂️ lover through and through, she likes being on top with this though. she loves watching your smaller body fall apart under her and being able to control the pace.

G • Goofy

pleaseeee this girl is hilarious, if you wanna top her when she wants to top you or vice versa she will straight up “girl boom” you and just start doing whatever she wants, (with consent ofc) making you giggle the whole way through with random little meme references.

“kk you got cum on my dress.” you whined, you guys decided on a quickie before leaving to meet up with friends at the bar, we’ll kk insisted she needed an orgasm or she would be nagging you all night to leave early. “shhh, it’s okay baby girl no one has to know.” she giggles, caressing your face from in between her thighs.

H • Hair

like i said on the paige alphabet, WE DO NOT CARE :P

I • Intimacy

while she can be serious there’s times where she locks in, whispering how much she loves you & couldn’t imagine her life with out you all while your in between her legs, a face full of pussy. she’s be playing with your hair, legs shaking, eyes slammed up with her head thrown back speaking about you like some type of goddess before crumbling apart to your tongue.

J • Jack off

she gets really shy about it but she does it often during her time away, often asking you for a picture of video when she’s gone.

New Message:

Kk<3; baby i know it’s really late for you but i need something.

you already know what she’s referring too, this falling into your regular schedule when she’s gone, you’re surprised she didn’t text sooner actually.

you; give me one second pooks

kk<3; i’ve been thinking about you all day baby, i’m so wet rn.

her words make you shiver, thinking about your poor baby having to take care of herself.

you; i wish you were here baby.

*1 attachment image

K • kink

def has a marking kink, loves seeing you covered in her hickeys, clothes, fuck it shes even gonna put her bonnet on you. she just loves letting others know your hers.

L • location

she loves your room, it’s so cozy and always smells so good. your pillows feel so soft under her head when you ride her strap & your blankets are so warm when you’re all done, naked and wrapped up in them.

M • motivation

one thing that gets her going like nothing else is seeing you in your momo, she loves your granny gowns, the sight of your perky nipples under the fabric knowing all that’s under is a dainty pair of panties.

N • no

you’re not strapping her up, simple as day. she is a bottom but it’s just not for her. she doesn’t like the feeling of it.

O • oral

she’s such a giver, but loves both. the feeling of your nose rubbing against her puffy clit while your tongue fucks her hole has her on a different planet. feeling your squirt fall down her chin? she’s in heaven.

P • pace

when Kk isn’t bottom, she’s fucking the shit out of you, rough and demanding. it’s usually like that when she’s jealous or had a bad day. when she’s bottom it’s slow and sensual, loving and tender.

Q • quickie

she loves them! they help her get through her day. she loves them anywhere, the car, your room, her room, at the bathroom in a party. she can get so needy at any time and just needs it out of her system.

R • risk

while she’s willing to do it just about anywhere somewhat out of view, she does get nervous and prefers doing it in the comfort of privacy. the riskiest you guys ever did was in a target parking lot at night when she ran out of tru fru.

S • stamina

this girl is fucking all night. when she has time she won’t stop. your pussy will be puffy and abused & she won’t stop until you start showing signs of discomfort.

“you alright, mama?” she comes up from between your legs, tears running down your face just seconds ago you crying for her to stop. “s’just too much.” you breath. “oh, im sorry baby.” she puts her face in your neck. “let me clean you up.” she rolls out the bed, going to grab a towel.

T • toy

you guys love your toys!! her favorite to use on you is a strap that has a vibrator for her attached. your favorite to use on her is a small blue vibrator, she doesn’t like anything in her but your fingers and tongue so she always reacts so pretty to it.

U • unfair

when it’s top!kk it’s so different. she’s mean and rough. she’ll edge you for what feels like hours.

“why dont you have your other girlfriend make you cum?” she hovered over your body, three fingers deep in you. “she’s not my girlfriend kk, only you i promise.” it had been at least 30 minutes since you first felt the tightening in your tummy, kks touch was gone as quick as it came. “i don’t know, seemed like it.” she pulled her fingers out, denying your release once again. “kk, please baby.” you whine. “i’ll think about it.” fingers ghosting your clit.

V • volume

she’s so loud, so vocal. she’s not afraid to voice what she wants either which you always appreciated. sometimes when you guys are playing rock paper scissors you find yourself having to cover her mouth because it’s so late and you don’t wanna wake your neighbors.

W • wild card

when you met kk, you guys were one night standing after a sigma kai party but, when you woke up in her bed and tried to sneak out she woke up. offering you a shower, some clothes that weren’t your micro dress and heels and some breakfast in exchange for your number.

X • x-ray

coochie meow meow 😸

Y • yearning

she’s so needy, she always wants you. it can be more than just sexually, she loves skin to skin, the feeling of having you so close always itches that special part in her brain

Z • zzz (sleepy)

yeah no, like in the start she does not wanna go to sleep. she tries to get you to stay up with her and talk. on the rare occasion she is sleepy, she’s fighting it, mumbling out random things to you before eventually falling asleep.

[badabidiboo]

see you again ꩜.ᐟ

pairing: guitarist winter x reader

wc: 3.4k

a/n: wrote most of this like 2 months ago and absolutely did not read over what i wrote so if anything’s incoherent i apologize 😞

the day of the concert

the concert in itself wasn’t very important for you, so you decided to wear quite a simple outfit which consisted of a short sage green summer dress paired with your favorite doc martens, along with a black leather jacket.

you decided to let your hair down and didn’t bother with a complicated hairstyle, choosing to simply use your hairdryer and style it into a blowout.

you hurriedly finished doing your makeup for the night and ran out the door, realizing you were running late as the venue doors were supposed to be opened in only 10 minutes, and you lived 20 minutes away from it…

after having to run down the stairs because of the elevator coincidentially being on maintenance, almost tripping multiple times,

you reached the parking lot of your apartment where your friends were waiting in their car.

‘’where were you for god’s sake?’’ areum yelled from the driver seat of her car. you ran to the backseat and got inside, areum backing out of her parking spot almost instantly. ‘’sorry i lost track of time’’ you spoke apologetically as you knew how important this concert was for your friends, even if it wasn’t for you.

‘’if we end up being late and can’t get in i swear i will end you y/n’’ harin spoke, sitting next to you on the backseat. ‘’don’t worry girls, i’m sure we’ll be there on time’’ juwon spoke cheerily from the passenger seat, only because of how proud she felt that she had managed to convince you to come to the concert with them.

indeed, you refused to go to this concert with your friends juwon, areum, and harin. you were usually always up for hangouts, but the band that the girls were going to see at that concert was one you knew nothing about.

the girls begged you for two weeks straight until juwon convinced you (bribed you) to come to the concert in exchange for the camera that you had dreamt of owning for the past three years.

so here you were, on your way to the concert venue. ‘’what was that band’s name again?’’ you asked as harin rolled her eyes in annoyance, she had told you so many things about the band, yet you seemed to be so uninterested that you were unable to remember any of it. ‘’it’s aespa, how come you can’t ever keep it in mind?’’

‘’well why take me to this concert if i don’t even know the band’s name?’’

‘’i’ll play some of their songs so you can get to know them before the concert then!’’ juwon declared as if she was on cloud nine.

as areum drove as fast as she could, you listened to a few of aespa’s songs, and you couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed some of them.

you finally got to the venue and saw a long line forming in front of the doors which were meant to open any second now. the girls ran to avoid being any further in line than they already were about to be, dragging you with them in the process.

after endless pushing and pulling, you eventually entered the venue and managed to find the spot you had bought tickets for. you looked up at the stage and realized you had actually gotten pretty good spots with an open view on the stage.

the venue filled up and the band members’ arrival was announced. the crowd was wild, jumping cheering loudly as the four members stepped on the stage.

after a few words, the concert started with the first song that the band played, which was called ‘’drama’’. you found yourself bobbing your head to the song from time to time as you recalled listening to it in the car on the way to the venue.

the band’s songs were mostly in the rock category, sometimes switching for an indie or even an rnb sound.

you gazed at each member, admiring their talent for singing, but also for playing instruments. you managed to identify each member, giselle being the drumist, karina at the bass, ningning as the vocalist, and finally winter at the electric guitar.

none of the members particularly caught your attention, until you started to catch one of them consistently staring at you each time you stared at her, it was winter.

why does she keep looking at me? you wondered silently. no, i’m probably mistaken, you convinced yourself, only to find her staring at you once again the next second.

you opted to do the best thing you could ever do, which was to pretend like you hadn’t noticed anything. you absent-mindedly bobbed your head and vibed to some of the songs you seemed to like, mainly to not seem like you were forced to come here (even if it was the case).

after a few moments of interacting with the fans, the band members bid their goodbyes to the audience and left the stage. however, you caught winter in your peripheral view turning her head to glance at you one last time before she disappeared backstage.

the concert eventually ended as the venue quickly emptied. you followed you friends to the exit and found your way to the huge lobby where drinks, food, and even merch were being sold.

the line to the merch stand seemed to be never-ending when you joined, since the girls viewed it as a living necessity to buy the goodies and the pieces of clothing that were sold.

‘’hey i’ll go to the bathroom real quick’’ you told the girls to which they nodded understandingly, since the line was still long ahead of you, and you weren’t gonna buy any merch anyway.

the bathroom was thankfully empty as everybody’s priority was to obviously buy merch at the stands. you left within a few minutes after washing your hands and fixing your hair and makeup in front of the large mirror on the wall.

as you walked out, you accidentally bumped against a girl, knocking your shoulder against hers. ‘’oh i’m so sorry i didn’t see you there!’’ you quickly apologized to the girl who seemed to be slightly older than you. ‘’it’s all good, don’t worry’’ she smiled brightly before walking past you to leave.

you were about to walk down the wide hallway to join your friends in the lobby, until you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

‘’what do you think you’re doing?’’ the person interrogated with a husky voice.

you turned around and saw the girl you had bumped into just a second ago looking up with eyes full of fear. you looked at the person who had just spoken and realized it was the girl who couldn’t stop staring at you during the concert. wait, what was her name again? you suddenly couldn’t remember.

you watched as she held the shorter girl by the arm, her grasp preventing her from walking away. she looked down at her with piercing eyes as she waited for the girl’s response, who started speaking with a wobbly voice ‘’i-i… what do you mean?’’ she smiled guiltily.

‘’then what did you just take from her? i’m pretty sure i saw you… stealing something’’ my eyes widened as i patted myself down and realized something was missing in my pocket, it was my wallet.

‘’hand it over, or i’ll have you banned from ever attenting any of our shows’’ the taller girl spoke with an ice cold voice, her eyes reciprocating that same feeling.

out of fear, the girl you had initially thought seemed sweet reached into her jacket’s pocket and took out your wallet which she had stolen by purposefully bumping into you.

she handed it to me as i took it and instantly checked that everything i had was still in it. after being sure that nothing was taken, i looked up and saw the girl briskly walking away in embarrassment.

‘’nothing’s missing right?’’ the girl asked with her usual low voice. ‘’n-no, everything’s still in here’’ you spoke with an unexpectedly quiet, almost brittle voice.

you didn’t know how to act since you knew she was a member of the band, but somehow couldn’t remember her name. ‘’i saw you in the crowd, you didn’t really seem to enjoy the show’’ she stated as she leaned against the wall.

you felt slightly guilty as you answered ‘’o-oh no i was, sorry if it didn’t look that way’’ you quickly apologized, debating within yourself whether you should tell her the truth or not.

‘’it’s just… i’m not really a fan of your band. my friends really wanted to bring me here so i ended up saying yes but-‘’ ‘’but you don’t actually know us, am i right?’’ she spoke almost teasingly with a smirk. you felt blood rush to your cheeks after she guessed what you were about to say, as you could only hope she wouldn’t see it. ‘’yes… but i do know some of your songs! rock isn’t quite… my cup of tea, but i do like a few songs my friends introduced me to!’’ i smiled, trying to save myself from the slightly awkward situation.

you realized you still couldn’t remember her name, and decided it would be best to just ask instead of humiliating yourself later on. ‘’i’m so sorry this is gonna sound so stupid but i forgot your name. i had everyone memorized but somehow i can’t remember yours anymore’’ i admitted all in one breath, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

to my surprise, her smirk widened as she snickered ‘’don’t worry, my name’s winter’’ she answered to which my eyes slightly widened as it finally hit me, and i clearly remembered the moment where harin was teaching me the band members’ names.

‘’that’s right i remember now!’’ i exclaimed, not noticing how winter looked me up and down. i looked up and saw her tongue slightly sticking out from the side of her mouth, until she realized i could see it and quickly fixed her face expression.

‘’what’s yours?’’ she asked while crossing her arms. ‘’oh, my name’s y/n’’ i smiled warmly ‘’that’s a cute name, suits you’’ she smirked once more.

did she ever not smirk? you started to notice how frequently she smirked even during the concert, even while she stared at you every so often!

winter seemed to be deep in thought for a few seconds until she reached into her pocket and handed me something which looked like a card.

‘’what’s this?’’ i asked in confusion as i slowly took the item in my hands. ‘’it’s a pass for everytime we have a concert, they’ll let you in if you show them this’’ she explained as she stuffed her hands into her pockets.

‘’oh t-thank you’’ i smiled. i didn’t quite understand why she had given me it, as i wasn’t even a fan. ‘’s-sorry why did you give me this? i mean i couldn’t even remember what your name was’’.

she smirked again, pushing herself off the wall as she stepped closer to me, making me look up to her as she was taller. ‘’i’d like to see you again, princess’’ she winked before turning around and disappearing behind a corner.

i stood there as if i was frozen in place, looking at the direction in which she left before i lowered my gaze to the card she had given me.

after joining my friends, we bought some food and drinks before we left the building.

a few days later

you had gone back to your daily routine, leaving your apartment early every morning to go to college where you had lectures everyday.

after hours of taking notes and focusing on the lectures, you exited the campus and decided to walk to your favorite cafe.

as you entered the nicely decorated cafe, giving it a cozy vibe, you sat down at the very back and took out your laptop to work on an essay you had to hand in soon.

you typed quickly on the keyboard while sipping on your coffee every now and then, the caffeine helping you stay energized and focused.

after a few hours, you finally finished your essay and decided to go home since it was getting dark.

while walking on the sidewalk, you were scrolling through your phone and came across a post about aespa, which showed the days and schedules when they would hold events such as fan meetings and concerts.

you noticed that the next concert was in just a few days, and that it was in a venue about 10 minutes away from where you lived.

thinking back on how winter had spoken to you and given you that card, you contemplated whether to go or not. after all, she did tell you she would want to see you again, didn’t she?

you took out the pass you had safely kept inside your bag and read the writings on it. just like winter had told you, the card had a qr code on it, probably to be scanned in order to prove its authenticity.

you reached the front of your apartment and entered as you kept wondering whether you should go to the concert or not. on the one hand, you felt like you also wanted to see winter again, but on the other hand what would you even do there? you barely knew any of their songs after all.

‘’i should probably not go, the girls would probably feel sad that i got to go without them, especially since i don’t even like the band as much as they do…’’ i thought to myself as i locked the door to my apartment behind me.

yes, this is the right decision to make, you convinced yourself.

the next day was a pretty calm one as you didn’t have any lectures, choosing to enjoy it with your friends. areum, harin, and juwon came to hangout at your place.

you had decided to order takeout and eat together while watching a movie we had all been wanting to watch, yet couldn’t seem to find an opportunity to do so together.

after the movie ended, aespa was brought up again, as it was the girls’ favorite topic. you didn’t know whether you should tell them what had happened with winter or not, until areum noticed how quiet you were.

‘’hey y/n, are you alright?’’ she asked as she searched for your eyes until you met her gaze.

‘’huh? oh yeah, why?’’ you tried to lie, but the three girls knew you all too well and instantly realized something had indeed happened.

after desperately trying to change the topic or even lie that nothing had happened, you ended up telling them the truth about you running into winter, and her giving you the pass. you even went into detail about the princess nickname she had used on you (frankly, it had you blushing a little and fighting the few butterflies that you had felt in your stomach).

the girls were shocked and even hurt that you had waited so long to tell them about all that had happened while you were away.

‘’and you didn’t tell us earlier because?’’ asked juwon with clear hurt on her face as she crossed her arms.

you didn’t really know how to answer, and finally decided to tell the truth.

‘’well… i thought you guys would be mad or jealous that i got to go to their other concerts on my own. especially since you guys are the actual fans-‘’ i got cut off by harin.

‘’what do you mean be mad or jealous? do you seriously think we would react like that?’’ she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

areum agreed with a quick nod ‘’yeah! look, if you wanna go it’s up to you, we wouldn’t feel hurt by it or anything’’ she reassured.

juwon finally spoke ‘’well actually only under one condition’’ she said as she got the three of us staring at her in puzzlement. ‘’only if you promise to get us their autographs’’ she stated with crossed arms.

the two other realized juwon was right and nodded, showing that they sided with her. i smiled at them and nodded ‘’okay then, i’ll make sure to get those autographs for you’’ i said which caused them to cheer happily as they jumped around in joy.

two days later, on the day of the concert, you started getting ready, somehow feeling like you had to look nicer than you did the previous time.

you chose to wear a black wrap skirt with a black halter top along with your favorite black kitten heels. you picked out the pieces of jewellery that fit the outfit best, and finished the look by curling your hair before styling it into a half up half down.

after doing your makeup with care, you left you apartment and this time, managed to take the elevator as it was no longer on maintenance.

areum, who was the designated driver, had insisted on taking you as she reassured it didn’t bother her. she left after dropping you off and promised to come pick you up again after the show, which had started to make you nervous as you couldn’t help but imagine winter’s reaction to seeing you again.

as you entered the venue, you looked for a good spot and ended up pretty close to the stage, only a couple of rows in front of you. slowly, the venue filled up with people, the room which was once quiet, was now loud with the excited chatters of the fans.

the lights slowly turned off as the crowd started to cheer. you looked up at the stage and saw the members appear on the stage one by one from being the curtain.

you looked closely and recognized winter, who seemed to be scanning the crowd, looking for something. she couldn’t possibly be looking for you, right?

after a short introduction, the music started playing, and the concert finally started. you noticed winter’s searching eyes constantly darting around the room, while trying to be discreet about it. everytime she lowered her eyes back onto her guitar, you could notice the disappointment on her face.

then, while she was looking at the crowd once again, her eyes met yours, a sudden sparkle making its appearance into her once dull eyes. she smirked, showing that she had noticed (and remembered) you.

you noticed her demeanor change right after you made eye contact with her, as she hyped up the crowd, which started cheering even louder.

the concert lasted for another hour until it was finally over. you were tired, yet you somehow didn’t feel like going home, not after having such a small interaction with winter, who was your initial reason for even deciding to go to the concert in the first place.

you walked down the hallway after waiting for a few minutes until the crowd left, and sighed, resigning to the fact that it was likely that you wouldn’t see winter, at least not tonight- until you heard a familiar voice echo behind you.

‘’hi again pretty girl’’ you turned on your heels and was met with the girl you were hoping to see, winter.

she was wearing her usual smirk on her face, along with a different outfit than what she had on during the concert. the comfier looking attire made her seem even hotter, you thought, the baggy hoodie and sweatpants giving to the interaction a lot more intimacy, almost letting you think she felt comfortable enough to let you see her with a disheveled appearance rather than the put together look she has in public.

‘’i guess you really came, huh?’’ she spoke lowly, stepping closer towards you until she was towering over you, looking down into your eyes.

realizing it had been a few seconds and i had still not said a word, only standing there in awe, i spoke up, failing miserably at acting nonchalant.

‘’uh y-yeah, i did’’ i mentally slapped myself at my stuttering and the palpable fluster in my voice. as if that was not enough, i started feeling hot in the face, and could only pray that it didn’t show on the outside.

winter stayed silent and seemed to observe me for a few seconds before she leaned in even closer, smirking wider than before.

‘’you’re blushing, it’s cute’’

should i continue writing this?? 😭